The Donor and the Owner

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/8916118.

Rating: Not Rated

Archive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: F/F
Fandom: The 100 (TV)
Relationship: Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Octavia Blake/Raven Reyes
Character: Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Octavia Blake, Raven Reyes, Anya
Additional Tags: Executive!Lexa, chef!Clarke, Pregnancy, Falling In Love, Friends to
Lovers, G!P, Girl Penis, Girl Penis Lexa, dash of angst
Series: Part 1 of Meeting Again
Stats: Published: 2016-12-20 Words: 36895

The Donor and the Owner

by KonstantineXIII

Summary

“I’m 33, and I’m not married, and I’m not seeing anyone,” Clarke started lowly, never
looking away from Lexa’s calm face, trying to gauge a reaction, “And I very much want a
baby before it’s too late.”

A scroll of astonishment rolled across Lexa’s eyes, but Clarke ignored it.

“I have a lot of friends, and friends of my friends, but when I mapped it out, I could really
only make a decisive list of a small few,” she kept burning blue eyes on Lexa, “Lexa, I’m
asking you to get me pregnant.”

HOLY HELL THIS IS LONG. Weighing in at a whopping 80 pages, here’s my gp one-shot.

Go easy on my grammar, as I don’t have a beta.

Definitely not as sexy as I’m sure you all would like, but I hope you enjoy it.

“Sorry I’m late, the traffic was awful,” Clarke panted briefly and sat fluidly across from Lexa.

“It’s no problem,” the woman reassured easily. She watched as her old friend placed a black cloth
napkin in her lap and settled. The years have certainly been kind to Clarke. The woman was
absolutely stunning. Lexa smiled, “Three minutes past hardly counts as late, I think.”
The recently seated woman nodded gratefully, her eyes smiling.

“It’s nice to see you,” Clarke said in lieu of answering. “How have you been since Polis?”

Lexa settled herself, weighing her answer. She always got very mixed reactions when she was
honest about ‘how she was doing’ and 20% of the time, her listeners were happy for her. The
majority was not so pleasant, especially in secret. She decided to be honest, as Clarke’s honest blue
eyes bore into her.

“I’m actually doing very well,” she said, allowing a small amount of the immeasurable pride she held
to shine through, “I started my own real estate agency once I got out of school, and I’m proud to say
Ark12 has been doing very well for itself.”

“Wow. That’s wonderful,” Clarke smoothed out, smiling gently, “Ark12 is enormous. That’s the one
with the golden shield, right? I actually looked into using your services, but,” she smiled good
naturedly, “the rates were out of my price range.”

Her cerulean eyes were delicately laughing, a sort of self-deprecating humor in them, and Lexa
smiled largely.

‘Hello, 20%’ she thought to herself.

“Well, the clientele enjoy the ‘selectivity’, as they call it,” she rolled out, her voice ringed with mirth,
“I prefer to call it ‘conceited’,” she gave a shrug that was as elegant as a ballroom curtsy, “but it does
pay rent.”

Clarke allowed a brief smile.

“What were you looking to buy, if I may ask?” Lexa continued politely. A waiter in a black shirt,
black slacks, and black bistro apron brought out a bottle of wine with glasses, and Lexa raised an
eyebrow.

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind,” Clarke cut in abruptly, “I thought you might like this one. It’s a recent
label, but excellent. Whitehaven.”

Lexa was impressed, and slightly amused. In college, Clarke had drunk nothing but beer and tequila.
She nodded her excited consent, and Clarke looked to the waiter.

“A platter? Fruit, olives, cheese.”

‘Where did this sophisticated creature come from?’

The waiter had taken off, and Lexa laughed lightly, her hands clasped lightly on top of the white
tablecloth.

“Do you come here often?”

For some reason, Clarke laughed as she poured Lexa her wine. The brunette woman was struck
suddenly by how pretty the expression was, and some part of her was sad at the rate of
disappearance. She shook it off in time to catch a dryly amused,

“You have no idea.”

The waiter returned in record time to set the platter in front of the women, and Clarke nodded her
thanks.
“Well you seem to know your way around the wine selection? Either you study the menu here, or
you’re an alcoholic,” Lexa teased, and the blonde-haired woman smiled wryly.

“It honestly would be easier to be an alcoholic,” she finished her pouring and picked the glass up, “I
opened a restaurant with Octavia Blake a couple years ago,” was her explanation.

“Octavia Blake? The one we went to college with?”

“The very same,” Clarke told her. “A couple of us stuck together after school,” she peered over her
glass and smirked, “Not every one ran away to get rich quick.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lexa said, her eyes glimmering. Clarke matched her
gaze. Was it just her or was there a hint of sexual tension in the air? Lexa sort of preened, her breath
changing the subject slightly.

“So, how are Octavia and Lincoln?”

Clarke raised an eyebrow.

“Wow, you really did run away. Was it to social Siberia?”

“Pardon?”

“Octavia and Lincoln broke up about a year after graduation.”

Lexa leaned closer to the table in shock, her crossed legs making the position slightly dramatic,
“You’re joking. I’ve thought this entire time that they’ve long since been married.”

The woman across from her shook her sun stained head, then tilted it considerately.

“Well, Octavia has actually been married for a while, now,” she allowed, lips twitching.

“Really now? To anyone I might know?” Lexa raised her wine to her lips, sitting back in her dark
wood booth seat. Clarke smirked, copying her, bobbing the glass before answering.

“Yeah, actually. Octavia married Raven Reyes.”

Lexa almost snorted her wine back into her glass. Thankfully, years of refined reflexes saved her,
and she swallowed harshly. Clarke raised an eyebrow and one corner of her lips.

“You alright there, Commander?”

Lexa laughed faintly and took a sip of water. Her eyes watered slightly and she blinked rapidly, lest a
tear ruin her eyeliner.

“No one has called me that in 10 years,” she said weakly, “And I’m alright. I suppose that caught me
the wrong way.”

Clarke merely continued to smirk.

“Shame, it really is damn good wine,” she said teasingly, and Lexa glared at her playfully. It was
odd, how relaxed she was. If this had been a date, she’d ask for another.

“It is,” Lexa agreed lightheartedly, “But I had no idea that happened. The last I heard of Raven
Reyes, she had mowed the front of Polis’ lawn into a certain part of the female anatomy,”
Clarke let out a full, unrestrained laugh, and Lexa laughed with her. Clarke had forgotten about that.
But she nodded her head, confirming the incredible turnaround in her friend.

“It’s true though, they got married… Let’s see,” she considered, “8, maybe 9 years ago?”

“You’re kidding,” Lexa stoked, impressed and a little bit shocked. Her eyes casually glanced to
Clarke’s empty left hand on her wine glass and dismissed the line of thought, “That’s quite a long
time. Do they have kids?”

Here, Clarke seemed to freeze, and Lexa’s keen eyes caught the pause of the already hard to read
woman. But after a millisecond, the woman resumed her cool demeanor.

“They have three, and are still reproducing,” She said, her eyebrows raised as if to give her friend
props, “But Raven said after the next one, she’s done.”

“Raven has carried their children?” Lexa replied. It’s been quite a surprising luncheon. Clarke
laughed at her incredulousness.

“Yep,” she finalized. Clarke’s smile died somewhat, and she looked out to the rest of the peacefully
dining restaurant. Here, Lexa felt the atmosphere shift, and the itch at the corner of her brain fizzled
madly, needing to be scratched.

“Clarke?” she prompted gently, her curiosity intensifying by the second as she observed the growing
discomfort on Clarke’s pale face. Clarke bit her lip and looked back into Lexa’s own beautiful face,
her intelligent green eyes sparkling with interest.

“Lexa, I realize I owe you an explanation for asking you to lunch so suddenly.” She started slowly,
then paused.

“I’d hardly call a week’s notice ‘suddenly’,” Lexa replied graciously. Clarke shot her a peculiar look
and dryly told her,

“After 11 years?”

Lexa smiled, tilting her head in acknowledgement.

“But,” Clarke wet her lips, looking away, and the emerald eyes didn’t miss the action, “Before I do
that, I’m afraid I need to ask you an incredibly personal question. I hope you’ll forgive me ahead of
time.”

Lexa raised an eyebrow and her glass of wine at the same time, and Clarke only grew more agitated
before her eyes. She was honestly confused beyond measure.

“As long as you provide an explanation for your question,” she said slowly. The atmosphere was
incredibly tense. The women were practically sitting ramrod straight in their seats. The blonde
nodded. She cast a sweeping glance around for any eavesdroppers, but the room was clear of them.

Clarke pulled a deep, slow breath.

‘Here goes’ she thought to herself, her stomach in knots.

“Lexa, are you, uhm, sterile?”

The woman’s eyes blew wide, and ice slid down her spine. Her chestnut curls fluttered as her head
whipped to check her surroundings as Clarke had.
“W-well,” she stuttered, caught off guard and left-footed. Clarke could have hit her with a shovel,
and she wouldn’t have been as surprised. The light-haired woman winced. Out of sheer stun, Lexa
looked back to Clarke and answered.

“Uhm,” she cleared her throat, desperately trying to calm down, “No,” she glanced about once more,
“No, I’m not.”

Clarke seemed to relax minutely, and Lexa’s eyebrows lowered, even more confused. She had
almost forgotten that her circle of friends in college were aware of her condition.

“Clarke?” she cleared her throat once more, “Why, ahem, why do you ask?”

The woman shifted under her gaze, but her spine was rigid.

“I’m very willing to explain myself, Lexa, but, please,” her husking voice was low and asking, “Wait
until I’m finished, and then I’ll leave you alone,”

Lexa felt a sinking in her stomach, but she nodded slowly, her eyes locked on Clarke. The pinned
woman peered closely into Lexa’s eyes, and was relieved to find honest confusion in them. She took
another breath and plowed forward.

“I’m 33, and I’m not married, and I’m not seeing anyone,” she started lowly, never looking away
from Lexa’s calm face, trying to gauge a reaction, “And I very much want a baby before it’s too
late.”

A scroll of astonishment rolled across Lexa’s eyes, but Clarke ignored it.

“For a few years, I’ve been considering each of my options as to how to conceive, and I believe I’ve
found my most favored way to do it. I was never interested in sperm donors, as there are too many
unidentifiable variables for my comfort. Invitro only has a 7% chance of taking, and I honestly just
don’t have the money to keep attempting. So my next option was the erm, old fashioned way?”
Clarke attempted, and Lexa remained perfectly still.

“I have a lot of friends, and friends of my friends, but when I mapped it out, I could really only make
a decisive list of a small few,” she kept burning blue eyes on Lexa, “Lexa, I’m asking you to get me
pregnant.”

The woman in question felt her lips part. She was stunned.

“You won’t have to do anything at all,” Clarke rushed. “It will be like it never happened, and you
can happily move on with your life, I promise you. Completely no strings attached,” she attempted a
strained smile at the perfectly astounded face of Lexa Woods, “It could even be kind of fun for you?
It would be a huge favor,” her voice sort of died, and Lexa reboot her brain.

“Clarke,” she fell silent, staring at the woman. Absently, or deliberately, Clarke didn’t know, she
reached for her mostly full glass of wine. Lightly gripping the base, she brought it to her lips and
tipped the entire thing into her mouth.

Even in the wire taut feeling between them, Clarke felt herself smile a bit. She cleared it just in time
for Lexa to look at her, and she could practically see the racing thoughts.

‘No’. Was Lexa’s first reaction. ‘No.’ And then it was an internal debate, seemingly the classic devil
and the angel, but Lexa had no idea who was who.

‘Well why not?’

‘You don’t want to be a mother!’

‘Didn’t you just hear her? You won’t have anything to do with it! You’ll knock her up, then never see
her again.’

‘You’ll have conceived a child!’

‘That you won’t have any ties to.’

‘Genetics!’

‘So? Genetics doesn’t make you family. And why not, you haven’t gotten laid in ages.’

‘That’s true enough. And Clarke was the hottest girl at Polis.’

‘Now she’s the hottest woman you’ll have had in bed.’

‘Wasn’t she on the track team?’

‘Must be incredibly flexible. Wonder if she can-‘

Lexa snapped out of her thoughts before they could get any more lewd. Her stomach was filled with
electric butterflies, and she watched as the slim, beautiful woman across from her tried to look
uncaring.

“You… really want a child?” was her first question. Clarke’s heart double-timed. Lexa was actually
considering it!

“I do,” she said seriously, her low tones soft, “I have for a long time, and I’m finally in a position
where I could comfortably support one.”

Lexa nodded, trusting the answer. She didn’t know Clarke as well today, but she had always been a
free spirit. In her studies, and in her personal life. She wouldn’t arbitrarily wake up one morning and
decided to knock herself up.

“And you want me to,” Lexa made a roundabout motion with her hand while she pinched the bridge
of her nose, “to, help you with this?”

Clarke seemed to suffer a flicker of a smile at Lexa’s wording. This might actually turn out well. She
was hoping and praying. She had waited a long, long time.

“I do,” she quieted out, fiddling with the bottom of her glass. She stilled her hands and buckled
down, “I know you to be wildly intelligent, and gorgeous, and focused to almost a fault,”

Lexa lifted a brow. Most people just called her a bitch.

“But you have always been an incredibly kind individual, with the best interests of people at heart. I
think your personality and traits would be excellent genetic material.”

“I see,” Lexa said carefully. Clarke studied her intently until she replied, “Alright then.”

Clarke paused for a long moment.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Lexa smiled, slightly amused.

“I said alright. I’ll do it. Only if you’re being honest with me.”

“I-I am!” Clarke said, taking her turn in being surprised. Lexa sort of liked the expression on the
woman’s normally brilliantly-expressional face, “I’m so happy to hear that,” she said, voice still light.

Lexa nodded her head.

“So, when did you want to start?”

“Start?”

Lexa checked her watch, “We could start tonight if you really wanted. I have a couple things I need
to finish at the office, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Uh, erm, sure. Tonight.” Clarke’s brain was scrambling to catch up. Lexa agreed? And she wants to
do it tonight? She watched as Lexa started to shift to gather her purse and coat.

“Would you like my phone number?” Clarke offered, her brain starting to turn over once more.

“Excellent idea,” Lexa said evenly, taking her phone out and putting in the numbers Clarke recited,
“Send me your information. It was nice having lunch with you, Clarke, see you tonight!”

“Er, see you!” Clarke said, waving at the tall woman as she walked away in a power suit and heels.
As soon as she had exited her line of sight, Clarke leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes,
breathing.

“So?”

Her eyes opened, and she observed her best friend and co-owner, Octavia. The grin started in her
eyes, and touched her mouth. Before long, a brilliant smile had taken Clarke’s face, and the married
woman laughed.

“Wow. I can’t believe it. She said yes?”

Clarke breathed.

“She said yes,”

Octavia watched her best friend wander off in her own elated world. She was truly happy for her.
Even if her wife thought this was a terrible idea, Octavia was glad Clarke was finally getting
something she wanted.

“Ms. Woods?”

“Can it wait?” The woman replied, eying the glass of scotch in her hand. An observer would assume
she was speaking to an empty room, but the telephone on her office desk blinked otherwise.

“Of course Ms. Woods, it’s only Mr. Smythe delivering the report.”

“Thank you, Harper.”

“Yes, ma’am.”
A click.

Lexa sipped the amber liquid and took a glance at the clock. 6:40. Clarke had texted her her home
address, an apartment complex Lexa drove by every morning. She was expected to be there at 8
o’clock.

“Relax, Lexa,” she said, this time actually speaking to an empty room, “It’s not like you’ve never
been asked to conceive a child for an old friend before?”

She paused, letting the tick of the clock on the wall get louder and louder before she groaned.

“Great, now I’m talking to myself. I’m literally going insane.” She swallowed another burning
mouthful of alcohol, and leaned forward to tap her office phone.

“Yes, Ms. Woods?”

“Harper, will you get me Anya on a private line?”

“Of course,”

“Thank you,”

She waited a moment, observing her office. It was beautifully furnished, with certifications lining the
walls. Lexa wrinkled her nose. It was a cold room, honestly, and she found herself prisoner there far
too often to the jailer that was paperwork.

“Ms. Forrester is on line 4 for you, ma’am,”

“Thank you, Harper,”

Lexa stretched forward to pick the phone up off of the receiver and pushed the flashing ‘4’. Instantly,
dulled music filled her ear.

“Anya?”

“Lexa, hey. What’s going on?”

“I’m having sex tonight.”

Lexa swallowed another mouthful of scotch, the ice clinking, and Anya laughed over the sound of
her club in the background. She and Lexa had met a few years ago when Lexa found the lot to build
her club on in the perfect location. They had hit it off from the start, and were very close.

“Congrats,” the woman’s voice responded airily, “About time, too. You’ve been out of commission
for too long.”

“I’m going to get her pregnant,”

“Whoa, that’s the spirit! Sounds like she’ll be a tiger in bed. You go,”

“Anya, I’m serious,” Lexa sat back in her chair and put the cool glass to her temple, “She asked me
to get her pregnant.”

The line was quiet save for the steady thump of club music before the woman replied.

“Lexa, are you serious?”

“Completely,”

“And you’re going to do it?”

“I don’t see why not. She doesn’t want any help raising the child. I suppose I’ll have a nice time with
her, then walk away. Is that so crazy?”

“Of course it’s fucking crazy!” Anya shouted over the line, “You realize you can’t just hit it and quit
it, Lex? You’ll have to keep at it until she’s actually got your bun in her oven?”

“I thought about that,” Lexa said ponderously.

“It sounds like you haven’t thought about this at all,” the phone accused her, and Lexa sighed.

“And how does she know you can actually pull it off?” her friend asked.

“We knew each other in college,” Lexa replied.

“Shit, Lexa,” Anya sighed. “Well did you ever sleep with her then?”

“Well,” Lexa tilted her head at the ceiling and chuckled, “No. If I remember correctly, she's been
bisexual for a very long time,”

“She’s gay?”

Lexa hummed interestedly, “The last I heard, yes.”

“If she's been with primarily women, she’s probably tight as hell,” Anya snickered, and Lexa’s lips
quirked. She hadn’t thought of that. And now that she did think of it, she felt a familiar pulsating
between her legs.

“I just thought you should know,” Lexa said, slightly changing the subject. Anya laughed.

“Well, shit. Thanks, I guess. Although I maintain that this is a bad idea. She must be smoking hot,
right?”

Lexa considered, her lips pulling in a smile.

“She is,”

Anya laughed shortly.

“Knew it. Have fun,”

Lexa bid her adieu and hung up the phone. She really didn’t know what she expected Anya to say.
Perhaps she was looking for reassurance? Anya took it fairly well, though she wasn’t the type to
make a big deal out of anything. It was one of the things Lexa liked about the cynical club owner.
She glanced at the clock once more. 7:15.

‘Well, here goes.’

“Lexa!” Clarke stood in her doorway with damp hair and a silk robe wrapped around her, “You’re
early!”
Lexa smiled, not at all apologetic. It was 7:45, and that was even after circling the block three times.
Her stomach was in knots.

“Yes," she started smally, "I’m afraid it didn’t take me as long to get here as I thought,”

“Oh, that’s uh, fine,” Clarke ran a hand through her hair, “Shit, come in, please,”

“Thank you,” Lexa accepted, stepping through the foyer. She found herself in what she would
consider a dump. It was tidy, yes. But not to her tastes. Incredibly small, there was only a short
hallway, and the rest was open. The kitchen was easily the most impressive part of the apartment, but
it lacked a dining table of any sort.

“So, did you just want to get started?”

Clarke’s smoky voice called her attention, and Lexa was trying to figure out when the situation
would stop surprising her. But she took the blunt suggestion in stride and laughed at the look on the
shorter woman’s face.

“Why not?” she answered, shrugging, “I’m glad that was the most romantic way you could think of
to start the night,” she teased, and followed Clarke to – yes – the bedroom. The woman had thrown a
laugh behind her.

“Don’t worry, we can screw, then watch porn and high five later, if you want. We’ll keep it really
sophisticated.”

Lexa scoffed a laugh.

“Right, well, I’m gonna go clean up and I’ll be out in 5,” Clarke promised on entry to the room,
“Anything I can get you? Gatorade? Energy drink?”

Lexa rolled her green eyes at Clarke’s dry humor.

“Not being a teenage boy, I’m going to have to turn down those offers, thank you though,”

The blonde-haired woman smirked and disappeared into the bathroom. Lexa dutifully took her cue
and started to undress. Clarke’s bedroom was very neat, with a faithful set of drawers and vanity,
with the centerpiece being a queen-sized bed. The black sheets looked soft, and Lexa vaguely
wondered what the thread count was. A single lamp illuminated the room from a bedside table with a
few books on top.

Lexa stripped down to her underwear and briefly debated what to do. The most disturbing thing to
her was that she, oddly enough, didn’t feel odd enough. There didn’t seem to be a panic in her
stomach, and she quietly reflected that she trusted Clarke. The wild woman was funny, obviously
sane, but seemed to be hiding a slightly cute sort of dorkiness that tickled Lexa when she revealed it.

“Might as well,” Lexa spoke to herself, removing her bra and underwear as well. Her tucked penis
was freed from between her legs and she let out a generous sigh of comfort. She crossed to the bed
and slipped under Clarke’s sheets, throwing off the heavy comforter to the foot of the bed.

‘Very soft’ she thought, pleased, but the mattress wasn’t the best quality. ‘Ah well.’ She turned to lie
on her side, propped on her elbow, making sure the sheet draped over her curves sexily, revealing a
good amount of her bare breasts. Lexa was by no means ashamed of her body, but she didn’t want to
give Clarke a heart attack on the first night.

She waited a few extra heartbeats, watching the door, and strained her hearing. Nothing. Just as she
was about to call and check on the woman, the light flipped off, and Clarke emerged.

The women stared at each other, Clarke at the gorgeous and obviously naked woman in her bed, and
Lexa at the full, womanly build of the hottest woman she’d seen in a long time, in nothing but a very
skimpy set of blue lingerie.

“Glad to see you made yourself comfortable,” Clarke chuckled, breaking the suddenly hot air. Lexa
smiled in response, her eyes tracking over the slide of muscles in Clarke’s legs as she crossed to the
bed.

“My hostess left me to my own devices,” she said easily, feeling her cock start to harden at the sex
symbol climbing into bed with her, “It’s really her fault for letting me get up to no good.”

Clarke laughed and sidled up to come face to face with Lexa without much preamble. She wasn’t
wasting time, and apparently meant business. Lexa liked that.

“Oh, is this the part where I call you a bad girl and tell you I’m going to teach you a lesson?”

Lexa grinned, her face getting closer to the beautiful blue-eyed woman’s, “No, this is the part where
you kiss me back,” And she kissed her easily.

Clarke was a wonderful kisser. Really, she was. Lexa later reflected that it must have come from
years of going down on women, because the blonde had a mastery of her lips and tongue that blew
Lexa’s mind.

The brunette woman rolled Clarke onto her back and commenced with some heavy petting. She
wasn’t quite sure where the line was between what was appropriate or not for a ‘favor’, but Lexa felt
that as long as a good time was being had by all, it didn’t hurt.

When they paused to take a break, Lexa carefully watched Clarke’s intelligent eyes as she smoothly
situated herself on top of the woman. Clarke peered back into Lexa’s forest colored eyes and calmly
spread her legs.

“And you’re sure about this?” Lexa asked cautiously. Clarke snorted and nodded, somehow still
attractive. It might have had to do with the fact that Lexa had stripped her of her remaining articles of
clothing, and her breasts were perfect and full.

“I am,” the woman confirmed. She cast a wondering glance down their barely joined bodies below
the sheets, and put her hand in her hair, “Do you need to ah,” she seemed to search, “Ya know,
wake it up?”

Lexa almost choked on her laugh, “Er, no. It’s fine. I’m sufficiently warmed up. Are you… ready for
me?” She made a similar gesture to the covered lower half of their bodies, and Clarke bit her lip,
trying desperately not to smile. Instead she reached a hand below and Lexa watched, amused, as her
face flexed and flushed.

A moment passed, and Clarke retracted her hand.

“Now I am,” she said, trying so obviously not to show Lexa her embarrassment. She spread her legs
further and waited for Lexa to situate herself over her smaller frame. Lexa positioned the head of her
cock closer to the heat she could feel radiating onto her sensitive flesh.

This was it.

“Ow! Shit!” Clarke yelped, accidently snapping her legs over Lexa’s hips.
“What’s wrong?”

Clarke grimaced, “You’re too big,”

Lexa blinked, “I- I don’t think I’ve ever been told that as a complaint before,” Clarke gave a shudder
and rolled her blue eyes briefly.

“Just, go slow? Also, your hand is on my hair.”

“Excuse me,”

“Did you…”

“Uh, maybe next time?”

“.. Right,” Lexa was still catching her breath, listening to Clarke, less affected beside her, “I can go
again?”

“Oh, wow, that was quick,”

Lexa raised an eyebrow, swiveling to look at the wonderfully naked woman. Clarke backtracked,
“Shit, no, not like that! You lasted, ya know, a while. Shit, you know what I meant!”

Lexa laughed heartily and rolled back on top of Clarke, growling playfully.

“I do. But just in case, let me remind you just how long I can last,”

“Right,” Lexa said, later, “And this time?”

“I was closer?”

The brunette winced, “I’ve never encountered this problem before.”

“Uh huh,” was Clarke’s sly reply. Lexa glared at the woman, and Clarke only laughed whole-
heartedly, “So, are you done?”

“I believe so. If you want another round, I’ll have to request for that Gatorade and a sandwich,”

Clarke laughed and rolled to face Lexa, biting her lip. The worked out woman raised an enquiring
eyebrow at her hesitation. Clarke was really too much. They had just finished having sex, the most
intimate act between people, with the specific purpose of impregnating her, and she was still hesitant.

“Lexa,” she started, “You don’t have to sneak out like some kind of one night stand, you know. I’d
never make you do that,”

Lexa tilted her head, her sculpted face set in affected amusement.

“It would be nice if we could even be friends, I think,” Clarke finished, her vocals low.

Lexa smiled, “I’d like that,” she gave a small stretch, “Besides, you have incredibly comfortable
sheets, and I feel like getting everything I can out of them,”
Clarke snorted and settled back onto the bed, “Idiot,” she muttered petulantly.

“Clarke?”

“Hey, Lexa, what’s going on?” a slight shift in the phone line, and Clarke switched ears to hear
better, “Lexa?”

“Hi, I’m here, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, what’s going on?”

“I’m so sorry, it completely slipped my mind, but I have a terrible work dinner that I’m expected to
be at right now, and I’ll be ridiculously late coming over,”

Clarke laughed, “Wow, that’s actually incredibly convenient. Some asshole just put in a last minute
call to the restaurant and wants the private room for 30-85 people, can you believe that?”

Lexa grimaced in sympathy from where she was riding in a taxi, cell phone in hand, “The nerve of
people who want what they pay for,” she cajoled, and smiled when Clarke barked a laugh,
“Anyways, but speaking of coincidences, our dinner is at that restaurant you took me to lunch at,
isn’t that funny?”

The line went silent for a pause, and when Clarke answered, she seemed to be laughing, “Incredibly
funny. Hey, Lexa, I think I’ll just see you later, alright?”

Lexa’s nod went unseen, but she bade Clarke goodbye and secretly dreaded having to attend this
dinner. At least the wine would be good, she thought airily.

Her arrival was met with many professional welcomes, and she grit her teeth and asked the floating
waitress for a glass of the Whitehaven, smiling all the while. The girl instantly disappeared, and Lexa
suffered through a chat with Gary from payroll, before she reappeared.

“Ma’am, I’m happy to tell you that this bottle was bought for you. On the house,” Lexa raised an
eyebrow, but smiled.

“Goodness, such kindness, the house truly doesn’t know how saving they’ve just become,” she
laughed, and the waitress giggled with her. She had probably made her way through half the bottle
when a familiar voice called over the party of mingling coworkers.

“Hello, my name is Chef Clarke Griffin, and I’m one of the owners here at Ambassador's,” Lexa
turned, wine in hand at the low, husking voice. Clarke was dressed in a pencil skirt and a blue,
feminine button up blouse, “Thank you all for choosing to dine with us, and I hope you’ll enjoy
some complimentary appetizers,”

She flourished a hand, and a line of servers entered with plates of shrimp, crab cakes, ahi tuna,
bruschetta, and various others. Lexa caught the woman’s dancing eyes as the company applauded
their host. She felt her posture soften considerably and she laughed aloud, possibly looking deranged.

‘Of course this is Clarke’s restaurant’

When the party cleared, Lexa stayed behind, and Clarke re-entered the room to gloat at her. Lexa
rolled her eyes, crossing to the laughing blonde. Clarke treated her to an actual dinner, and bitched
about the party while Lexa defended her lack of control.

“Not for a second,” Clarke had said, did she buy that line. Dinner went famously, and Lexa invited
Clarke back to her apartment.

“Your mattress is the most God-awful thing to ever touch my spine,” Lexa informed the woman.

Clarke burst out laughing.

So their pattern began.

“And now?”

“I promise you’ll get there,”

“You’re kidding!” Lexa was starting to get upset, and Clarke only laughed at her, smoothing a hand
through the wildly curling brunette locks, free from a day's subjugation.

“It’s fine, Lexa! I swear,”

“It’s not fine,” she growled, only to have Clarke laugh at her and roll to click the lights all the way
off.

“Oh Jesus, Lexa, can’t you control that thing?”

Lexa glared at the whining blonde sleepily, entertained, “Mm, need I remind you that it is morning?”

Clarke let out a rusty chuckle against her pillow, “Your little friend already reminded me for you,
don’t you think?”

Lexa didn’t reply, simply resuming her activity of getting out of the warm, comfortable bed with
dragging feet, “It’s not little,” she muttered. Whether Lexa intended Clarke to hear her or not didn’t
matter – she had – and she laughed largely.

Clarke rolled to her front, stretching.

“I need to shower,” Lexa changed the subject, walking into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

“Shower here,” Clarke replied easily, “You can borrow some jeans and a shirt,” a look from Lexa
told her exactly what Lexa thought of that outfit, and Clarke smiled, “What? Don’t you give your
employees casual Fridays?”

At Lexa’s wincing facial expression, Clarke propped herself on her elbow and stared at the naked,
and steadily brushing woman, her half erection not phasing Clarke in the slightest.

Secretly, she considered Lexa’s morning wood a little bit cute, “Oh God, are you the bitch?” Lexa
raised a plain eyebrow, unable to respond, “You know, the married-to-her-work, laser pointer up her
ass, never eats lunch, doesn’t believe in casual Fridays bitch?” The blank stare said it all, and Clarke
simply sighed.
When Lexa had returned from a manager’s meeting regarding some HR issues and her newly
implemented casual Fridays, Harper told her a woman had come looking for her.

“Hopefully it’s not Kate,” she said dryly to her personal assistant, “I’ve rejected that property three
times,” but entering her office, it obviously hadn’t been Kate. Because Kate wouldn’t have left a
wrapped box of food with the digital image of ‘Ambassador's’ on the front, on top of her desk.

Lexa smiled as she picked up a note of a crudely drawn vagina, with a circle over a notch at the top
and an arrow labeled,

‘This is what you’re looking for, idiot.’

To the side, a chibi worker she assumed was herself wore a confused expression and a helmet with a
headlamp. Her green eyes sparkled as she grinned monumentally and folded the note, putting it in
her pocket before eating.

“Lexa?” Clarke bit her lip, knocking on the bathroom door lightly, “Lexa, come on, I told you, it’s
perfectly fine. I’m sure you just drank too much tonight.”

She waited nervously, listening for any kind of movement, “Hey, why don’t we watch a movie?
There’s a new episode of that one really terrible show you love on your DVR?”

Her head leaned against the doorframe, and she retied her hair, rubbing her bare arms against her
equally bare body, “Please, Lexa? It’s not so bad, I promise. I know it’s not your fault. We’ll just
skip tonight.”

Suddenly, the door opened and a livid Lexa stepped out, grabbed Clarke by the waist and pushed her
onto the silk-sheeted King sized bed in Lexa’s apartment.

“This doesn’t happen to me,” her throat was thick with irritation, and she strongly parted Clarke’s
legs and latched her mouth onto the woman’s sex. Almost immediately, Clarke came with a cry, and
Lexa grinned wickedly. Seems like Clarke had been feeling the pressure.

She dipped and swirled her tongue in perfect rhythms, and Clarke, smiling with relief, came hard.
Her moans were an aphrodisiac, and Lexa felt herself harden with triumph. Brandishing her now
beautifully erect length, Clarke laughed breathlessly.

“So, no TV?”

“Lexa, move over,”

“Clarke, you’re going to push me off the bed,”

“I don’t want to sleep in the wet patch!”

Lexa scoffed, “They’re your fluids,” she defended, and practically felt Clarke’s heated blue glare in
the dark.
“Do I have to remind you that you’re the one who ejaculates, Lexa?”

The taller woman huffed, “Fine, come here,” she reached an arm out and wrapped a hand to Clarke’s
hip, bringing the small blonde closer by rolling her back into Lexa’s front.

The two settled together and slept. In the morning, Lexa valiantly washed the sheets, and
Clarke smiled over her coffee at the continuous stream of grumbling.

Clarke broke her focus from the restaurant’s budget reports to check her phone, reading that she had
a new image message from Lexa Woods. When she opened it, she immediately dropped her phone
and covered it with papers, smiling innocently as Octavia raised an eyebrow next to her.

Clarke Griffin: ‘What in the hell is wrong with you?!’

While a couple investigated the property she was showing them, Lexa grinned at her phone and
texted back.

Lexa Woods: ‘What do you mean?’

Clarke Griffin: ‘I am at work. Why are you sending me porn when I’m at work?’

Lexa Woods: ‘It’s not porn.’

Lexa Woods: ‘I did some research. This is the position that allows sperm to get closest to the cervix.’

Lexa waited a full five minutes before her phone notified her of a new message, and she smirked.

Clarke Griffin: ‘We’ll talk about this after dinner, you nympho.’

“I’m sorry, Lexa! I couldn’t -”

“Right. It’s fine, Harper, thank you. Will you hold all my calls for now?”

The brunette assistant nodded meekly, and exited the doorway. Clarke shot her back a glare and
entered the office completely. She shut and locked the door, turning back to face Lexa with a
particular look.

“I’m ovulating,” she said simply.

Lexa’s mouth opened in shock, but she composed herself, “I’m at work, Clarke,”

“It’ll take five minutes,” she argued, crossing to Lexa’s desk.

The woman frowned, “What are you saying?”

Clarke rolled her eyes, “Lexa. You are incredibly satisfying, your dick is large, you last forever, and
you make me come. Okay. Is your ego happy now?”

Lexa huffed elegantly, standing and unbuckling her pants, stroking herself into hardness. It didn’t
take much. Clarke had hiked her skirt around her hips, pulled her panties down, and placed her
hands on Lexa’s desk.

When Lexa entered the woman, their height differences forced Lexa to lean into her thrusts. They
had gotten quite good at sex, but never standing up before, and it proved to be very, very nice. Lexa
groaned and rolled her hips decisively into Clarke as she held the woman’s slim hips, their skin
slapping together delightfully.

Clarke, honestly, was the best she’d ever had, and Lexa loved being inside of her. Clarke’s inner
walls were always slippery and hot, squeezing her dick from every side wonderfully. As for Clarke,
Lexa had proved to be incredibly skilled, she only had to tune her body to receive the channels Lexa
was emitting. After the adjustment, she saw stars every time.

Lexa pressed her breasts into Clarke’s back, and the woman moaned. Lexa really could have gone a
couple of hours and no less than two rounds, but Clarke had a goal.

So when she felt the first tightenings in her twitching dick, she relaxed into the feeling, and her slim
fingers found Clarke’s clit. Her timing won out, and they climaxed together. Usually, Clarke would
lie horizontally for at least 30 minutes after they had had sex to encourage a sperm to take, but here
she simply panted a few times and fixed her clothing, straightening. The woman used her panties in
lieu of the warm towel Lexa would normally bring her to clean up the aftermath of their coupling,
and dropped the garment into Lexa's trash.

Lexa watched her with interest, laughing at the overall turn out of Clarke’s visit. She tucked herself
back into her pants and kissed Clarke once more in farewell. Hopefully, Harper would assume they
had gotten into a screaming match instead of what really had just occurred. Clarke’s blushing cheeks
would surely give them away.

“Wow, I don't think that seared tenderloin agreed with me,” Lexa commented idly, riding herself of
her shoes while seated on the bed. On the other side, Clarke nodded.

“I think it wasn’t so much ‘seared’ as ‘microwaved’. Honestly, the thyme wasn’t even charred,” she
grumbled, removing her shirt and pants. That reminded her, she very seriously needed to have a
discussion with their beef provider about their new strip steaks. And the sous chef about who trained
the expo guy. Oh, and table 43 is no longer even with the floor…

Lexa had stripped down and slowly started to get herself hard, mind wandering. A staff meeting
needed to be arranged, but knowing one of her managers, the memo never was sent out. Which was
a problem because a new listing had opened, and he was depriving his agents…

She crawled to Clarke, and the women began to distractedly kiss. Eventually, Clarke pulled away
and grimaced, “Lexa, can we just sleep?”

The brunette executive jumped on the suggestion, “Oh thank God, I’m just not in the mood, Clarke,
I’ve got a million things on my mind,”

The smaller woman laughed and nodded, “We’ve had sex nearly every night for three months, and
I’m exhausted. Not to mention sore.”

Lexa hummed her sympathy, climbing under the covers and pulling Clarke to settle on her chest.
They kissed easily in gratitude to each other. It was reflexive, and neither paused to think about it
before quickly succumbing to sleep.
“She’s clearly going to leave Alex for Australia,” Clarke muttered darkly, glaring at the enormous
television in Lexa’s spacious living room. Behind her, Lexa laughed.

“Have a little faith!” she admonished, “And quit calling her ‘Australia’. Her character’s name is
Stella,”

“The most stereotypically Australian name in existence!” Clarke crowed, “They might as well have
named her ‘Sheila’ or ‘Kangaroo Jackie’.” Here, she giggled at her own joke, and Lexa laughed
shortly.

“Uhg,” Clarke groaned, “My cramps aren’t usually this bad on my period. My vagina feels odd,”

Lexa muttered her condolences, eyes focusing over Clarke’s head to the screen, “Perhaps because
you’ve had sex every day of the month and now you’re tightening?”

“Why do I feel like you’re saying that with hope?” Clarke murmured dryly.

“What? I have no idea what you mean. I’m perfectly satisfied with your vagina the way it is,”

“Really?” the woman replied, also focusing on the screen.

“Mhm,” came Lexa’s reply, “You feel absolutely amazing inside,”

“Huh. Thank you,” Clarke leaned her head backwards to turn into Lexa’s neck behind her, and she
itched her nose on Lexa’s tshirt, “You feel just fine as well,”

Lexa hummed, and watched as Piper Chapman organized a used underwear business on their current
favorite TV show.

“That’s disgusting,” she commented. She felt Clarke nod against her.

“What do you even do with that? Masturbate and inhale?”

“Why do you assume I know?”

Clarke shrugged, “I don’t know, you have a penis? And you seem to know your way around it,”

Lexa scoffed, “I would say you do, too,”

A burst of laughter, and Clarke head butted backwards into Lexa lightly, “That reminds me, what is
the deal with sending girls pictures of your dick? I just don’t get it. Do they expect the recipient to
immediately drop their panties and call a taxi?”

Lexa smiled but shrugged, “Your guess is better than mine. I’ve never felt the inclination to send a
picture to anyone,”

“No?”

“No,”

“Why not?”

Lexa thought, trying to word her answer specifically.

“Because the camera can’t zoom out that far,”

"Clarke, I don't understand-"

"Clearly!"

Lexa rolled her eyes and shut her apartment door behind her.

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" Clarke snapped, tossing her coat over the back of the couch,
Lexa's green eyes following the act shrewdly.

"Why did you just do that?" She ground, "I've told you a million times-"

"It doesn't matter, Lexa! I put it away after I change and you know that!"

"Why won't you respect that I like some things a certain way?" She growled, her voice raising
slightly.

"Some things?" Clarke repeated scornfully, "Some things? Lexa, you have a whole system for how
you fold your laundry! And put the dishes away, and you fucking pee in the middle of the night!"

The brunette blanched.

"What?"

Clarke huffed, deeply irritated.

"You always get out of bed to pee in the middle of the night, and for some reason, you never flush
the fucking toilet! And, Lexa, and you leave the seat up!"

The brunette's jaw worked angrily.

"Because I wake up before you and put it down anyway, and I don't want to wake you up in the
middle of the night with the noise!" She ran a hand through her hair, "Is that what this is really about,
Clarke?"

The blonde huffed and folded her arms, looking away.

"I know I sound crazy, but Lex," her eyes narrowed, "It bothers me so much,"

Lexa grit her teeth, "I don't know what you want me to do about it. I have to pee after sex to keep
everything, you know," she gestured vaguely towards her pelvis, "clean,"

Clarke raised an eyebrow, eyeing the woman's crotch, "Then why don't you just pee directly
afterwards?"

The brunette huffed sharply, "Because! You don't like it when I leave directly afterwards!"

"Oh my god, Lexa, I meant leave the apartment!" Clarke tried to calm down, "I can survive 5
minutes,"

The brunette scowled and looked away, "Fine then, I'll just fuck you, leave, piss, and then have a
glass of scotch and read the paper!"
Clarke's head reared backwards, and she eyed the pouting executive.

"Lexa," she started hesitantly, "Look, I'm sorry for not being direct to start with. But what in the hell
is wrong with you?"

Lexa bit her lip and crossed her arms, exhaling slowly as she scuffed the waxed floor. Clarke waited.

"I don't like to leave right after, okay?" Lexa muttered.

It clicked, and Clarke's expression cleared. She sighed deeply and nodded to herself. Uncrossing her
arms, she stepped toward the proud brunette and tilted her face up to meet her eyes. The keen
viridian orbs scanned the blonde's features and instinctively returned Clarke's embrace.

"Alright Lex," Clarke murmured soothingly, "I'm sorry. I like that you stay after we finish. I do. You
do that great impression of a drunk triathlete at the finish line that you know I'm so into," she grinned
at Lexa's scoff. "I won't mind being woken up for 30 seconds when you get up,"

Lexa hummed and dusted a kiss to Clarke's lips.

"Good," she kissed the woman again, "It's the least you can do after you racked me yesterday,"

Clarke laughed, and grimaced, "I said I was sorry about that," then, a wicked gleam came to her eyes
and she pulled backwards to cast a cursory glance at Lexa's lean frame, "Although," she husked, "I
could kiss it better if you wanted me to?"

Lexa smiled broadly, and bent slightly to ask Clarke to jump. Legs locked securely around the fit
waist, Clarke laughed all the way to the bedroom.

Lexa had no idea what the difference between iodized salt and sea salt was, so she got both. The
small basket was loaded with what Clarke had, almost in tears, called ‘essentials’. She’d then refused
to cook another meal at Lexa’s until the situation was rectified.

The tall brunette woman smiled to herself, remembering the horror and resulting take out dinner after
the smaller blonde had raided her pantry’s dark cherry shelves.

Clarke’s sister was visiting and currently staying at her apartment, so Lexa had woken up alone for
the first time in four months. A clammy sort of dissatisfaction had settled in her chest, but she had
pushed out of bed and showered it away. Now, she stood in the grocery at 9 in the morning, buying
things like olive oil and Worcestershire sauce. Presently, the selection of cooking utensils had caught
her attention, and she mused over what in the hell they each were for. Hearing a ring, she frowned
and reached into her back pocket for her work phone.

“Lexa Woods,”

“Er, Lexa?”

“Clarke! I’m at the grocery. What was that one thing that was a bowl but with holes? Coriander?”

Lexa bent to inspect a metal hammer but with spikes, when she heard odd sounds filter through the
phone’s background.
“A-actually, this is Clarke’s sister,”

Lexa immediately straightened, “Oh. I’m sorry,” she furrowed her brow, thinking quickly, “Is
everything alright? Is Clarke okay?”

“Er, Clarke’s fine, I think, but she’s actually throwing up in Ambassador's bathroom,” Lexa froze,
“She got really dizzy all of a sudden and told me to call you. I’m not sure why, she was pretty out of
it, but she kept asking for you,”

“I’ll be right there,”

“I don’t think you need to rush,” the voice was just like Clarke’s over the phone, but listening hard,
Lexa found that it was just a bit softer, “I think she’s – oh, no, never mind. I think I’m going to have
Octavia take her home,”

Lexa nodded slowly, her mind working over time, “Right. I’ll come visit then, just to see if she needs
anything,”

“Sure, I just thought I’d call,”

“I appreciate it,”

Clarke’s sister gave an affirming hum and said goodbye. Lexa let the screen of her phone go black,
forest green eyes staring at a turkey baster. Clarke had suddenly vomited? Was it morning sickness?
She hadn’t missed a period, she would have told Lexa. Still, Lexa read online that morning sickness
could start as early as 4 weeks.

She lowered the phone, mechanically walking toward the feminine hygiene isle. Lexa found herself
staring at the home pregnancy tests with even more confusion than the kitchen utensils. Vaguely, she
noted a stock boy must have had a laugh, putting the pregnancy kits next to the condoms.

As was apparently her wont, she wound up buying all seven tests. She threw the kits into her basket
and practically ran to the check out. On the way, she passed the baby isle and her head spun.

Her long legs got her there quickly, but there was no hurrying the 20-somethings girl behind the
counter. Lexa saw her check her lithe frame out, and any other day she might have looked back, but
it didn’t even enter her realm of possibility. Especially when the girl flushed, scanning the at home
kits.

Lexa didn’t know why; it just bubbled in her stomach. She gave an awkward laugh to the cashier
and glided out, “They’re for my wife,”

The girl’s eyes went a little wide before she smiled, “Are you trying?”

Her heart thudded, “Yes, we are,”

“Well, good luck!”

“Thank you,”

Lexa paid and exited the store. She shoved the goods in the trunk of her car and sped toward
Clarke’s apartment, her Porsche Boxster taking her from 0-60 in 5.5 seconds. But the muscularly
sleek car was slow compared to her thoughts.

‘What if Clarke is pregnant? Will she not see me any more now that I’ve fulfilled my purpose? What
will she do? Obviously, raise the child herself, but what about during her pregnancy. She’s a very
capable woman, but still. It will be my child inside of her, inconveniencing her.’

She shook her head, blonde curls bouncing.

‘Wake up, Lexa. You’re just worried you won’t get to sleep with her anymore. Right? Well, maybe
you’ll miss the closeness you’ve grown with Clarke? She is wonderful… ly fun to be around. Think
of her. Even pregnant, she’ll need a hand. So help her. Friends do that.’

“Clarke?” Lexa called into the apartment, the door left unlocked, “Clarke?” She walked through the
living room/kitchen, setting her groceries on the counter. Her jean-clad legs carried her into the
bedroom and she heard retching from the bathroom. She pushed the door open and immediately
went to Clarke’s side, taking her hair away from her face and cooing soothingly at the distressed
woman clutching the toilet bowl.

Lexa’s wide green eyes softened and she rubbed circles on Clarke’s back. After a few moments,
Clarke panted, spitting the acid inside of her mouth into the bowl and flushing the toilet.

“That’s disgusting,” she said evenly. Lexa helped her stand and waited with twitching hands for the
smaller woman to brush her teeth. When she had lain in her bed, Lexa sat next to her.

“Clarke, are you pregnant?”

The golden hair tumbled off her pale features as she shook her head, “I took a test four days ago and
it read negative,”

Lexa bit her lip, “Well, I bought you a couple just in case. Would you like to take another?”

Clarke’s eyes lit up and she smiled, sitting up and nodding, making grabby hands. Lexa laughed and
went to fetch the plastic bag, “Jesus, Lexa. A couple?” The woman shot her a bashful look, and
Clarke raised a pitying eyebrow at her, “You panicked, didn’t you?”

Lexa pursed her lips, rolling her eyes, “Hey, why don’t you make yourself useful and pee on that
stick, hm?”

Clarke chuckled and escaped to the bathroom. A moment later, she reemerged and heaved a sigh,
“And now we wait,”

“For how long?”

“Fifteen minutes,”

“Fifteen?” Lexa frowned, “That’s rather a long time, don’t you think? With modern medicine as
advanced as it is, you’d think-“

“Lexa,” Clarke was smiling at her wryly, and the taller woman breathed.

“What?”

The blonde smiled uncontrollably, her perfectly white teeth on full display and shook her head,
“Nothing. I’m gonna go make tea. You want some?”

“Please,”

“Right. Mind the clock, will you?” And she walked off, handing Lexa a re-wrapped plastic wand.
Approximately 14.55 seconds later, the women were seated on the edge of the bed, and Clarke
removed the cover of the test, the two of them staring at the results.

Lexa’s heart gave the tiniest sigh of relief. Negative. Clarke, however, continued to stare at it. She
shook it a little, but the single blue line remained.

“Well, there you are,” she murmured, smiling smally at Lexa, “False alarm. Probably just ate
something,”

The brunette woman frowned ever so slightly in concern, watching Clarke’s grip on her own knee
get tighter and tighter, her head down, until Lexa heard the softest of sobs. Instantly, she had guided
Clarke into her lap and held her.

“It’s got to be me,” the woman cried, her heart dropped through her stomach and seizing painfully,
“The sperm won’t take, it’s too late, isn’t it? Does my baby not want me?” she choked, and Lexa felt
her throat tighten, “There’s something wrong with my eggs. I- I don’t understand.”

Lexa’s neck grew wet, and she felt her eyes mist, “No, no, Clarke,” her voice was thick with
emotion and she buried her nose in Clarke’s beautiful hair, “It’s probably me. I’m so sorry, it’s got to
be my fault. I’m sorry. I promised you a baby, and I swear you’ll have one. Don’t cry,”

She shushed the other woman and pulled her back onto the bed to lay Clarke’s struggling form on
her chest. After a few deep sobs, Clarke fell quiet, sniffling occasionally. When she felt it was safe,
Lexa pulled her so they could make eye contact,

“I’ll schedule us an appointment at a fertility clinic tomorrow and get us both checked out, alright?”
Clarke opened her mouth to protest, but Lexa glared at her softly and cut her off, “Please? Just let
me?”

The light-haired woman looked incredibly conflicted, but the genuine request in those burning
green eyes forced her to swallow and nod. The smile she received as a reward made her body warm.

Lexa laid her head back against the pillows and breathed deeply, closing her eyes. Without opening
them, she aired lightly, “I bought a coriander,”

She felt Clarke’s body slowly relax before her rasping answer, “What for?”

“So I can drain pasta,”

Clarke snorted against her chest, “You mean you bought a colander?”

“Huh, so that’s what that is. No wonder the spelling didn’t make sense for me,”

The smaller woman smiled, “And to think you studied all those years, only to be stumped by a
bottomless bowl,”

“I’m ashamed, I really am,”

“So what’d you buy a colander for?”

“So that you can drain my pasta,”

The smaller woman laughed, “I see how it is. And why does that sound dirty?”

“Clarke,” Lexa playfully teased, “Get your head out of the gutter,”
The other woman smiled, “It’s rude of you to try and evict my mind from its home,”

The two laid in peaceful chatter for a while, neither one knowing when Lexa started to lazily draw
patters on Clarke’s lower back, skimming the skin between her shirt and pants. It was perfectly
natural for the blonde-haired woman to lay a kiss to Lexa’s jaw when she felt it was appropriate.

“How long will your sister be in town?”

Clarke hummed, considering, “Well, Ontari's actually here to get married. My mother would kill her
if she got married somewhere besides D.C.,” she chuckled, “and I think it’ll only be another day or
two that she stays with me. Eventually, she’s going to have her presence requested by Queen Abby,
on pain of death,”

“I see,” Lexa smiled, “Is her fiancée staying with your mother?”

“No, I think he's coming in a couple days,”

“Have you met your sister’s fiancée?”

Clarke nodded against her chest, her eyelashes tickling Lexa’s neck, “I have. Roan's a very nice guy,
a bit quiet, but they’re cute together. Roan would give Ontari the moon if he could. Which reminds
me, I have to set up her bachelorette party,”

“Oh?”

“She asked me to be her Maid of Honor,” she explained with a grimace.

“Are you having it at Ambassador's? That’s a little professional for a bachelorette party, Clarke,”

The woman shrugged, “Well, Ontari's getting married this month. Unless you know any club
owners, that’s it,”

Lexa felt a slow, mischievous smile crawl across her face.

“Actually, as a matter of fact, I do,”

“Shit, Lexa! I forgot how much of a fucking champ you were at this!” Raven was shouting over the
pound of music, even in the VIP room of Anya's club. Also, she had started drinking before
everyone had arrived and was two shots deeper than anyone in the room, her wife included.

Lexa grinned wickedly, winking at the onyx-haired mother of 3.

“Another round?”

“Hell yeah!” she crowed, smiling back. She glanced around at her old group of friends, most of
whom were sitting and chatting, sipping on a drink. It seemed like everything and nothing had
changed. The same people, but with all the kinks worked out.

“Hey,” Raven slurred drunkenly, “if you open a tab, I’ll tell you a secret that I think you’ll be
reeeeallly excited to hear.”

“Oh yeah?”
“Mhm,” Raven smirked, her eyes flashing lucidly, “Did you know that Clarke was a stripper in
college?”

Lexa’s jaw dropped, “You’re joking.”

“I was between jobs!”

Clarke had slid on Lexa’s other side, and Octavia took the seat next to Raven. The blonde-haired
woman was glaring at Raven, her cheeks were flushed prettily with red, fueled by both
embarrassment and alcohol. It was the first good look at her Lexa had gotten tonight, and the
executive was nothing but pleased.

Skin tight, low riding jeans, a black tank top with a form fitting black jacket. She wore black heels,
and Lexa approved. Her own outfit consisted of leggings, wedges, and a shimmering red blouse.

“You were between jobs for an entire year?” Raven taunted immaturely, and Clarke rolled her eyes,
not rising to the bait. She looked to her other side to talk to her sister, almost the complete physical
opposite of the woman, but with the same fire in her sister's eyes.

“Fucking punk. Oi,” Raven had leaned toward Lexa and whispered into her ear, “It’s never worked
for me, but I think you might be able to pull it off. Clarke’s a sloppy drunk with tequila. Get her on
one of those poles downstairs and ask real nice,” She leaned back, smiling menacingly, and flickered
her eyes to the unsuspecting woman, “You’ll see,”

Lexa was already way ahead of the redhead. Clarke? Stripping? She suddenly stood, and called
Anya over.

“How does everyone feel about shots?” she called with a wickedly sweet smile. Her green eyes
found Clarke’s and they smiled at each other, both no doubt trying to get the upper hand on the
other.

Thirty minutes later, Clarke was drunk.

Decently drunk. And Lexa was only moderately so, still in control enough to keep her eye on the
prize. She had rounded up everyone to shove out of the VIP area to the ground floor, and they all
scattered to find fresh drinks. Lexa kept her hand on Clarke, and guided her to where one of the
raised pole stages were.

Anya had two of them, just for fun. Some women liked to get drunk and brave, as was the case with
the woman currently dancing around the pole, giggling. She wasn’t really doing anything, but Lexa
cast a lidded eye over the show and smiled hungrily.

Clarke noticed and turned, her drunken inhibitions cleared away. She saw Lexa practically drooling,
and she scowled, pulling the taller woman’s face to look at her.

“What?” Lexa pouted, her eyes once more looking to the laughing woman on the pole. She and her
friends were just messing around, but Clarke didn’t know that.

“Stop it,” the smaller woman growled possessively.

“Stop what?” Lexa replied innocently.

“You’re staring at that – that wannabe!”

“Wannabe?”
“Yeah!” Clarke cheered, tipping slightly. Lexa smirked, and descended next to the woman’s mouth,
whispering.

“You think you can do better?”

Clarke smirked languidly, and she gave a cocky roll of her eyes.

“Easily,”

Lexa smirked.

“Prove it,”

And then she shoved Clarke toward the small staircase that led up the pole’s stage, and even seeing
Clarke grip the stripper’s pole and glare at the woman on it was enough to make Lexa’s penis throb
and start to harden.

Discreetly, she tried to arrange her erection up against her stomach. The music changed, and a new
song started. Clarke took that as her cue. It was dramatic. Like a flipped switch, the full-
bodied blonde-haired woman was all strutting legs and swaying hips, and Lexa grinned broadly.

Until Clarke began to dance in earnest.

She unzipped her jacket slowly, her back sliding down the pole, and the leather gripped it, practically
taking it from her body by itself. Relieved of it, Clarke circled the pole and jumped with momentum.
She swung, her body twisting and riding it, and Lexa felt her mouth dry out. She was instantly hard.

Clarke was stripping.

Her tank top was peeled off as her ass ground against the pole, and in a flash of golden hair and
flat abdominals, she was upright once more. People had gathered around her and were whistling and
cheering. Clarke seemed to think they were adorable, as she smiled at them all, lust in her eyes.

Sweat reflected the club lights off of her slender limbs, and Lexa could only watch as her body
reacted in unadulterated want. All she wanted to do was go up to that stage and have Clarke ride her
like she was riding that pole. Her erection throbbed, and the compression shorts she wore were her
only savior.

Clarke gyrated aggressively, rhythmically, her hands feeling herself up as she bit her lip, and they
teasingly made their way to her own pants. Lexa could only take so much. She was only human,
after all. But Clarke seemed to be lost in her dance, as she unbuttoned her jeans, and pulled the
zipper down. A highlighter pink thong shone through the triangle of unzipped jean, and Lexa briefly
considered stealthily rubbing one out in the bathroom. She had been inside the woman countless
times and ways, and was still this turned on. She needed to be inside Clarke again, or she would lose
her mind. Probably because Clarke had an ass like a 20 year old gymnast. Maybe she was just drunk
and horny.

The waistbands of Clarke’s thong were sexily pulled up and run under by Clarke’s thumbs, before
she dropped and ground back up the pole, clothed in nothing but her bra, jeans, and heels. Lexa’s
wanton lust was scorching her body, and she shivered, hard as granite.

Before she knew it, Lexa had marched up the stairs and yanked the woman down. She made it to the
floor before Clarke did, and the relapsed stripper was grinning. The crowd started to boo Lexa, but
she really didn’t care.
Deciding quickly, she yanked the captured arm again, and threw Clarke over a shoulder, carrying her
away. The crowd seemed to think this was an acceptable alternative and burst into horny cheers.
Lexa nearly slipped on a dollar bill someone had thrown onto the stage.

She didn’t know where she was going, but the first locking door she came to, she opened it, shut it,
and turned the lock so quickly she might have broken the key off on the other side. It was some kind
of supply closet. There was a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling, and she smiled grimly. She
set Clarke down.

“Take your pants off and bend over,” she snarled, working frantically at her own leggings. Clarke
smirked, and it only further frustrated her. Lexa was going to make this woman come. Right now.

Clarke wordlessly stripped off her jeans and underwear, throwing them away, bra still on, her eyes
alight and lustful. Lexa moaned as her dick was released from its confinement, and she stripped her
shirt off.

The shorter woman crossed the distance between them at a quick pace and jumped, not unlike her
mount to the pole she had just been on. But Lexa caught her, and their mouths clashed in teeth,
tongues, and teases. Lexa tossed her in the air for Clarke to readjust, and the woman wrapped her
legs around Lexa, her wetness rubbing over Lexa’s dick. They both moaned. Clarke’s back collided
with the side of a tall cabinet, and she hissed at the cold metal.

Without wasting any time, Lexa found her entrance and slid inside the woman. They both
shuddered. That sheer, velvet heat Lexa was growing addicted to enveloped her cock, and Clarke
was so wet and hot. Every time, she was tight, and Lexa moaned, bucking without thinking. Clarke
whined, burying her face in Lexa’s shoulder. The taller woman angled her hips, but couldn’t
penetrate too deeply. She tried to compensate by going for strength, but wound up pushing Clarke
against the cabinet too hard.

The woman yelped and clutched at Lexa while the cabinet behind her fell with a boom. But Lexa
was on a mission. She vaguely heard a couple other loud sounds, but was focused on how Clarke
was climbing onto a stool, a knee and both her hands on top. Her foot was planted on the ground,
and she threw a challenging smirk over her shoulder at Lexa.

“Come here,” she growled.

Lexa was already thrusting inside of her and God did it feel good. The smaller woman started
squirming and she came with many whines and moans. Lexa pulled out of her and knocked the stool
behind her, lying on the cold concrete floor. It actually felt good against her sweating back, and she
pulled Clarke on top of her.

The woman needed no prompting, and started riding her like a cowboy’s last rodeo. She rose and fell
on Lexa’s dick like she was being paid to do it, and she all of a sudden shivered from top to toe and
cried out, coming again. Lexa quickly held her thighs on the upstroke and braced her shoulders and
feet on the ground.

Her upward thrusts were perfect, and she bit her lip, so close to her own orgasm. Clarke fell forward
in pleasured shock, and Lexa grunted as she felt Clarke come for the third time. Her will power was
made of absolute steel. She wouldn’t last much longer, though.

So when Clarke took it on herself to dismount Lexa’s throbbing and wet dick, Lexa growled her
displeasure. She was desperate. But Clarke instantly turned and planted herself on her hands and
knees, lowering her heaving chest to the ground, Lexa nearly came.
Doggy style.

Lexa felt Clarke practically suck her length in, she was so wet. She pistoned in and out of Clarke at
her most favored fast pace, and the wet squelching of their fluids only furthered the appeal of
screwing in a supply closet along to the muted tune of club music.

She reared a hand back and spanked Clarke’s perfect ass, gripping her hips firmly. Clarke yelped and
moaned on the floor. They usually spoke during sex, laughed and teased some, but this was different.
This was desperate, needy, fucking, and Lexa loved it.

Without a word of warning, Lexa felt her balls tighten and she came inside of Clarke’s wonderfully
warm womb. Clarke felt Lexa stiffen against her, and her insides grew hot. She knew Lexa had just
ejaculated inside of her, and she came swiftly and suddenly at the knowledge.

Thanking God in heaven, the smaller woman felt Lexa’s cock soften slightly, and she collapsed onto
her front, breathing heavily, all of a sudden extremely tired. Lexa rolled onto the ground on her back,
and threw an arm over her eyes. The women panted like animals, most likely due to the fact that they
had just fucked like them.

After their breathing had settled, Clarke rolled to kiss Lexa sloppily, and the brunette was happy to
return the gesture.

“Anya's gonna kill us,” Clarke said nonchalantly, surveying the room. Lexa laughed, her eyes hazily
taking in the toppled over furniture and upended supplies. She spied the cheap desk in the corner and
pulled Clarke’s face to hers, growling sultrily.

“Hey, Clarke, want to bet I can fuck you through that desk?”

Her listless blue eyes sharpened and she felt Lexa’s dick harden against her thigh. Clarke chuckled
deeply, kissing her and rolling.

"Alright, I'm off," Lexa said, trying to simultaneously drink coffee and button her shirt as she
walked.

Clarke hummed and went to fix the woman's suit, "Right, well, try not to fillet Jason. You'll get
blood on your shirt,"

Lexa laughed swallowing her coffee with puffed cheeks, "I'd never do that. This is the shirt you
bought me for my birthday. I'd hire a hitman. Obviously," while Clarke laughed, she downed her
coffee and set it on the kitchen counter next to the sink on her way to fetch her brief case.

"I'm going to kill you," Clarke said loudly, staring at the cup.

Lexa reappeared briefly to look at what Clarke was talking about

"Eight inches more, and it's in the sink!" the blonde admonished pleadingly.

The brunette grinned and stepped to kiss the huffing woman.

"If you want eight more inches, you'll have to wait until tonight," she winked, and disappeared
before Clarke had finished laughing.
“So I told him that if he brought me another rancid shipment, I’d find a new dairy supplier,”

Lexa switched ears, looking the other way to turn right, “What a fearsome sight you most likely
made. Are you wearing your scary heels?”

“No. Those are only for when I feel like shoving one up your ass,” Clarke’s voice dried, “Which you
completely deserve for not listening to my story,”

“I am listening,” she said distractedly, pulling her Porsche smoothly into a parking spot.

“You could sell me a used car, that was so convincing,”

Lexa laughed and pushed the car door open, shutting it and locking the vehicle, “Why you’d ever
buy a used car is beyond me. You should have enough money to put even me in the poor house,”

“You know I wind up just dumping it back into Ambassador's,” Clarke’s voice shrugged, “And it’s
not like I have anything to spend it on. But I have been thinking of buying a house,”

“A house?” Lexa repeated, making her way into the entrance of the beautiful building.

“Mhm,” Clarke replied, “Once I’m actually pregnant,”

And there was that soft tone Lexa liked to listen to. It was a tone that she identified with Clarke and
the baby. It was… Maternal. Strong, but wistful and warm. Lexa waved a greeting to the hostess,
who pointed in a direction.

“Well, I’m working on that,” Lexa muttered, her heels clacking on marble flooring, expensive slacks
swishing around her ankles. She opened a door and leaned in, frowning as she inhaled. She heard
Clarke laugh.

“And so hard, too,” Clarke taunted over the line, “But you still weren’t listening to my story!”

“Of course I was,” Lexa picked an object up, “And I think you’re being ridiculous. There’s nothing
wrong with this milk,”

“What? How do you – wait, are you here?”

Lexa laughed as the line clicked, and she put her phone away. Really, the milk wasn’t off at all.
Soon, she saw Clarke garbed in her chef coat and pants, hair in a messy bun.

Adorable.

“Hey! Here, for dinner?”

Lexa shook her head, “We’re going to that new Bistro you’ve been talking about on 7th,” She shut
the fridge and almost slipped in some liquid a cook had spilled on the ground in the kitchen.

“Oh really?” The shorter woman grinned and started to remove her coat, walking toward the back
office.

“Mhm,” Lexa hummed her confirmation, “Harper was telling me about her dinner there the other
weekend, and said she had a Grilled Bourbon Salmon that was better than Ambassador's Honey
Mead Salmon,”

Clarke paused, her expressive blue eyes narrowing, “Come on, I’ll leave my car here. You’re ready
to go?”

Lexa smiled, “Apparently,” She lead the way out of the restaurant and back to her car, and she swore
she heard Clarke’s soft growl say something that sounded like, ‘traitor.’

“Don’t you dare,” Lexa glared up at Clarke, panting. The woman’s breasts were shifting and
bouncing as she rolled her hips on top of Lexa’s cock inside of her.

“That’s the fourth time,” Clarke gasped, bracing her hands flat on Lexa’s tensed abdomen for
balance, letting her thighs pull her off the length and then fall back down fluidly. Lexa wanted so
badly to roll them over and have her way with the woman, but Clarke was in one of her dominant
moods. While it turned her on like nothing else, it also drove Lexa up a wall.

Lexa was filling Clarke so nicely, and her insides were clenching at the fullness. She was sweating
and heaving on top of the brunette, eyes closed and head tossed back. The sound of skin slapping on
skin sounded through Lexa’s bedroom, and the bottom woman was thrusting up every time Clarke
sunk down.

Then, the rude pierce of Clarke’s cellphone vibrating on the wooden nightstand split the room, and
Clarke groaned. She was so close. But she had to answer it. It might be the restaurant.

“Clarke, I swear to God-“

“Hello?”

Lexa growled and blew air out of her mouth in distain. She was already so pressurized. Her cock
throbbed inside the velvet heat of Clarke, and she had only been resisting so far as to let Clarke
orgasm first.

“Clarke? Where the fuck have you been?”

“Anya?”

Hearing her best friend’s name, Lexa threw all reason out the window. She sat up and latched her
mouth onto Clarke’s neck, wrapped her arms under Clarke's thighs, and pumped her hips up and into
the woman sitting on her cock. Clarke bit her lip to keep from moaning. Oh, she was going to kill
Lexa. After this call. And after she came. Obviously.

“Seriously, I’ve been calling for 10 minutes! And – wait – why are you breathing so hard?”

“I-I’m running,” Clarke panted, shutting her eyes as Lexa kept thrusting into her, the head of her
dick rubbing over the ridge inside her that was almost an instant orgasm. She gripped Lexa’s
shoulder and helped bounce on the throbbing dick.

“Is Lexa with you? She’s not picking up,”

“Uh, I think she’s,” Clarke bit her lip. Hard. Lexa had pushed Clarke’s shoulders back, and the angle
change was intense as Lexa bottomed out, “uh, at her apartment,”

“Could you stop running? Jesus,” Anya's voice silkened out, “Well when you see her, since you’re
always over there, could you tell her I called? Like a hundred times?”

Lexa was fucking her in earnest now, and she put her lips in Clarke’s hair, “I’m going to come inside
of you, and I’d rather not do it with Anya Forrester listening,” she bit the sensitive ear she was
whispering into, and Clarke whined.

“Anyways, Clarke, I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you-” Anya blathered on, and Clarke put
everything she had into stifling a moan before cutting the club owner off.

“Anya, can you hold on?”

Not waiting for an answer, Clarke threw the phone to the other side of the bed and pushed Lexa
down, bouncing up and down on the hot and hard length inside of her.

“God, Lexa, I’m close,” she panted, her voice unusually high, “Just hold on,”

“Clarke,” Lexa complained, her toes curling as she watched the breasts above her bounce, "My foot
is cramping,"

"Hold on, hold on, hold on," Clarke chanted, chasing her well-earned orgasm, “Ah, fuck- Lexa!”

Clarke’s insides clamped down hard on Lexa’s dick, and she tossed her head, honey locks flying as
she came. Lexa curled her hips in the air, getting as deep as possible into the woman before she
came hotly in one, two, three strokes.

Clarke collapsed on top of Lexa, panting and sweating. Her mouth curled, and she kissed Lexa
soundly when the woman turned her head. Blindly, Lexa searched the sheets for the phone and put it
to her ear when she found it.

“Hello?” she rasped out, breaking from the wonderful lips. Clarke rolled off of her to pant on her
back.

“Lexa? Wait, I thought Clarke – oh my god. No. No,” the horror in the woman’s voice was evident,
“Please God tell me those sounds weren’t what I think they were. Lexa?”

“Is anyone dead, Anya?”

“What? No? I can’t believe –“

“Good night, Anya,”

The wide eyes stared at her phone as the line went dead.

“You’re sure you’re not pregnant?”

Octavia was biting her lip, watching Clarke rinse her mouth out for the third time in the staff
bathroom.

“Positive,” the woman sighed, “Lexa’s practically bought out the store of pregnancy tests. It doesn’t
help that I’ve never had a regular period, but… I think it might just be my body wanting to be
pregnant. I have no idea.”

“You’ve been doing this for a week, Clarke.”

“I know, I know,” she grimaced, “But I took the tests, Octavia,”

“Maybe you should go in to the doctor and have them see what’s up?” her voice was edged in
nervousness, “Because right now, you look just like Raven did when she was first pregnant with
Cece,”

“I’m not pregnant, Octavia,” Clarke stressed, and Octavia’s face hardened.

“Fine, but you’re not going back to work,”

“That’s ridiculous,” Clarke scoffed, “Even if I were pregnant, I’d still go back to work,”

The dark-haired woman grimaced, “Yeah, I realize that, but you’re not going to today because
Lexa’s going to be here any minute,”

“You called Lexa?!” Clarke shouted, and Octavia flinched but straightened fiercely.

“Yes! Now stop whining about it and just go with her,” she huffed and crossed her arms, “You don’t
listen to me, so maybe she can knock some sense into you,”

Clarke sighed deeply, “Aren’t you trying to have a fourth child? That’s way too many kids to still
have room to mother me,”

“Clarke?”

“Jesus…”

Lexa glared at the blonde-haired woman fiercely before thanking Octavia for calling her, “I’m glad
she listens to you, at least,”

To which Octavia laughed but only nodded.

“Clarke, please get in the car,”

“Oh for God’s sake,” the woman threw her hands up and stomped out of the bathroom, leaving
Octavia and Lexa to jointly roll their eyes at her adult-sized fit. When Lexa exited the building,
Clarke was leaning against Lexa’s German sports car.

While Lexa drove to the doctor’s office, Clarke chided her about leaving work to come pick her up,
“And what in the hell is wrong with Octavia?” She wondered, feeling slighted, “Calling you, and
then you actually showing up,”

“She was concerned, Clarke,” Lexa explained, almost to the hospital, “I’m concerned, too,”

“What if I didn’t get in the car? Were you going to call my mother?” Clarke grumbled.

Lexa breathed through her nose, “No, but your sister was a close second choice,”

The blue-eyed woman shot her a questioning glare, “You wouldn’t,”

“I’m glad you got in the car and we didn’t have to find out,” Lexa smirked. Clarke found enough
grace to actually laugh, and the two made their way inside the doctor’s office.

“Hi, Ms. Griffin, I’m Dr. Jackson, how’re you feeling?”

Dr. Jackson was a medium-sized woman with kind eyes and short, dark brown hair. Clarke trusted
her immediately.

“Well, I’m actually fine, I’ve just been experiencing some... odd symptoms for a week or so,”

“Okay,” the doctor flipped open a folder and sat at a rolling stool, preparing to take notes. Her
attention finally diverted to Lexa, who was seated on an observation chair. She looked to Clarke on
the exam table and back to Lexa, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. Ms. Griffin, is it alright if your...
guest, hears some of your health information?”

The woman waved a hand, “It’s perfectly fine. This is Lexa Woods, she’s… uhm-“ An odd pause
made Jackson lift a brow slightly. Lexa felt her throat constrict, and Clarke’s stomach turned over,
“My friend,”

“Alright then,” Dr. Jackson continued, her many years of professional experience telling her not to
ask. She then refocused on Clarke, “So what symptoms are causing you trouble?”

“Well, I’ve been trying for six, well, almost seven, months to get pregnant,” she stated, and Lexa’s
intelligent green eyes captures every movement she made in silent observance, “And while I’ve been
taking at-home pregnancy tests, I’m still experiencing some symptoms of pregnancy,”

“I take it those tests are showing up negative?” the doctor asked, writing. Clarke nodded, “And what
kind of symptoms?”

“I’ve been vomiting everyday with some regularity, and the smell of dairy makes me nauseous. I
own a restaurant, and even the kitchen smells different. For example, there’s a metallic sort of smell
to it that my other cooks don’t detect,”

The woman straightened her back, thinking, “and I’ve been more fatigued than I have been in a
while,” she offered, trying to notice any other changes in her behavior.

“She’s been urinating more frequently, and her breasts are incredibly tender,” Lexa supplied
gracefully, a leg crossed over the other. She was the picture of business casual, and Clarke briefly
mused if this was how she looked in meetings at work.

“Oh?” The doctor interestedly looked from Lexa to Clarke, and the latter felt her cheeks grow warm.

“A-actually, yes,” she replied, watching her doctor scribble that down.

“And how long have you wanted a baby, Ms. Griffin?”

“About three years now,”

“Okay. And are you using IVF, a donation, or sexual intercourse to conceive?”

“Intercourse,”

"And you're single?"

"Yes,"

“Have you been tested for fertility?”

“I have, and I’m clear. I was told that because I’m 33, it isn’t a concern that it’s taking a while to
conceive,”

“It isn’t. Has the donor been checked for sperm count?”
“Yes,” Clarke replied, the cold label of ‘the donor’ putting a frost in Clarke’s breast, “I believe the
count was toward the higher end of average,”

"Okay, and have you been using multiple donors throughout the process?"

Lexa's eyes flashed at the doctor, and Clarke panned a smile at the woman calmly.

"No, just the one,"

“And have you ever used any form of contraceptive?”

“In college, yes. I was on birth control. But I haven't used a condom in...” she reflexively sent a
trailing look towards Lexa, who was also counting in her head.

"Six months, two weeks," she supplied. Jackson gracefully schooled her features.

“Alright, Ms. Griffin, if you could lay on the table for me, I’m just going to do a quick physical
exam,”

Clarke complied, and the doctor pulled the woman’s silk blouse out of her slacks to tap and listen to
her heart, stomach, and lungs with her stethoscope. Clearing everything, she bade Clarke re-arrange
herself.

“Wonderful,” the doctor made a few last notes and looked up to the woman, “I’m sure you know,
but the body is an amazing thing. It’s possible that these are all phantom symptoms caused by the
brain subconsciously, which are right on the money for pregnancy. Still, we’ll run a blood test just to
be safe. It shouldn’t take more than an hour to get the results. Sound good?”

Clarke nodded, “Perfect,”

“Alright then” Dr. Jackson stood, “Well, I’ll see you in an hour. I’ll have a nurse come in to draw
blood,”

“Thank you,”

“My pleasure,”

The heavy door opened and shut, and the windowless exam room was silent. Until Lexa cocked an
eyebrow, “your friend?” she repeated, not being able to identify why she objected to the label. All
she knew was that it didn’t feel good.

“Well that’s what you are, right?”

Lexa kept her face perfectly neutral, “Well, it appears I have been demoted to ‘the donor’, now.

“Oh, Lexa, come on-“

The door opened, and a young nurse entered, a tray of vials and labels in her hands.

“Hi, I’m Kara,” she cheered, smiling, “Would you mind rolling your sleeve up for me please, Ms.
Griffin?”

Lexa’s work phone rang out in the stillness, and Clarke watched the woman curse tightly, reading
her called ID. Her green eyes wondered at Clarke in a silent question, and the woman nodded
indulgently and made a gentle shooing motion.
“Lexa Woods,” the tall woman answered and exited the exam room, her office once again sucking
away at her soul. At her exit, Clarke was left with the nurse, who took it upon herself to smile at
Clarke kindly and offer,

“You both make a beautiful couple,”

Clarke’s heart skipped a beat in her chest, and her blue eyes peered into the innocent nurse’s.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. The nurse nodded, finishing her work diligently and leaving the
room. Clarke absently rolled her sleeve down. What was going on with today? She reached for her
cellphone and dialed a familiar number.

A few rings.

“Hello?”

“Raven, is Octavia home?”

“Uh, yeah, I think she’s feeding Zoe, one sec,”

Clarke nodded, knowing just how much of a circus the Blake household was sometimes. She gave a
short, jealous smile. Octavia had it made, she really did.

“Clarke?”

The woman snapped her attention back to the present, “Octavia? Hey, how’s it going?”

“Hi! It’s fine, I was just putting Cece down for a nap. How are you feeling? Did you go to the
doctor’s?”

“I’m still here, actually. Waiting on some blood work,”

“Oh good, is Lexa there?”

“Yeah, but she stepped out…” Clarke trailed off, trying to think and talk at the same time.

“What’s wrong?” Even over the phone, Octavia could tell there was something on her best friend’s
mind. When they were in college, Octavia had been the first person to notice Clarke’s facade of
carefree nonchalance, and try to help her. Many years, and lots of practice later, Clarke was a much
more open person.

“It’s nothing to do with having a baby, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she reassured, “But… It’s
Lexa,” she bit her lip, “I- I just can’t shake the feeling that something about this isn’t normal,”

Octavia laughed shortly, and Clarke smiled, “Okay, none of it is actually normal, but in a larger way.
Just now, the doctor asked me if my ‘donor’ was healthy, and it just… hurt. I don’t know why, and
then Lexa made a comment about it when the doctor left and she seemed… not okay with it too,”

The line was quiet and Octavia responded, “I think it was going to be messy from the start, Clarke.
Especially because you picked Lexa Woods,”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for one, she’s from an incredibly proper background, right? And this is Raven’s theory, keep
in mind, but there might be some merit in it. I think Lexa is a kind, wonderful person. And those
things, together, I don’t think it’s far fetched to say she might someday ask to be a little bit involved
in your life,”

“Involved?” Clarke repeated, slightly stunned, her heart starting a wild rhythm at the thought.

“Mhm, especially when I think about how you two are around each other, Clarke. You told me
when you had this idea that it would be more of a business deal. Well, I’m just saying but, you’re my
business partner and I don’t spoon you and bring you chocolates during shark week, you know? I do
that for my wife,”

Clarke bit her lip, knowing the truth in Octavia’s words, “I know,” she said quietly, looking at a
chart on the wall, “I recognize that half of my clothes are in Lexa’s washing machine, with another
quarter actually in her closet. I mean, Niylah and I dated for a year and I never left more than a
toothbrush at her place,” she sighed, “I don’t know what’s going on, but this is the most serious
relationship of my adult life, and it’s not even real,”

“Don’t say that. It’s very real… But, Clarke,” Octavia spoke softly over the phone, “What exactly do
you want?”

The woman swallowed, “A baby,”

Octavia laughed, and Lexa opened the door, stepping back in, “I mean, what do you want from
Lexa?”

Clarke flicked her eyes to where Lexa was saying her goodbyes, “Hey, I’ve got to go. We’ll talk
later alright?”

“Is Lexa there?”

“Yeah,”

“Okay,” Octavia laughed, “Take care, and call me after. Bye,”

“Bye,”

Clarke hung up and looked at Lexa, who was smiling lightly, “What’s good?” the woman on the
table inquired.

“Nothing big,” she said slyly, “But I think I might have found you a house,”

Clarke cocked her head, “I didn’t even know you were looking for me. Is it nice?”

Lexa gave her a faux-hurt look, “Ms. Griffin, I Ark12 is a Fortune 500 Company. We do not deal in
properties that aren’t ‘nice’,”

The blue-eyed woman smiled wholly, calling Lexa an elitist and asking about the house. The women
started speaking easily, like any other day, and the time flew. Before they knew it, a knock sounded
on the door, and Dr. Jackson pushed her way in.

“Hey, hope you haven’t been waiting long,” she said lightly, smiling gently, and Clarke shook her
head in patient grace, “Well, your results are in, and I’m glad to say that you’re perfectly healthy,”

Clarke smiling smugly at Lexa.

“and congratulations, you’re pregnant,”

Her blue eyes blew wide and she snapped her head back to Dr. Jackson's earnest eyes.
“What?” she breathed, her chest constricting, “What did you just say?”

“You’re undoubtedly pregnant, Ms. Griffin. From your tests, I’d say as far along as five weeks, in
fact,”

Clarke was having trouble breathing, trouble thinking. Lexa was staring at Clarke, for some reason
finding herself all of a sudden standing.

“But, the tests…” the still seated woman whispered.

“The tests showing negative could be from any number of causes; your urine is too diluted with other
things, it’s the wrong time of day, anything that has to do with digestion, really. But blood doesn’t
lie,” the woman was smiling, “You’ll need to schedule another appointment within the next 5-7
weeks for your first ultrasound,” she rose with a professional flourish, giving the woman some room.

“You can schedule that out front. Have a nice day and congratulations, Ms. Griffin,”

And then she left.

Clarke was stunned, and she immediately put a hand to her stomach. She stood and pulled her shirt
up, as if expecting to find a distention on her flat abs. Her eyes clouded as she slowly pieced her
mind together.

“I’m pregnant?” she whispered, and then whirled to face Lexa, “I’m pregnant,” her smiled overtook
her face and her eyes burned with joy, her heart soaring. She threw herself into the taller woman’s
body, “I’m pregnant!” She half cheered, half sobbed.

Lexa’s warmth enveloped her, and the sound of the taller woman’s heartbeat was pressed against her
ear, rapid and thundering. The woman had yet to say anything, and Clarke pulled backwards, tears
streaming down her face.

“Thank you, Lexa,” she bit her lip, but immediately continued to smile, “Thank you so much,”

Lexa felt like she was dreaming. Clarke was pregnant, finally, really pregnant. She had gotten Clarke
pregnant. She, Lexa Woods, had conceived a child with this wonderful woman. She had conceived a
child. Clarke’s child.

“C-Clarke,” she smiled, “Congratulations, Clarke,” she felt her eyes tear up as well, but the tightness
in her chest didn’t know what emotion it was from, “You’re going to be a wonderful mother,”

Clarke’s smile was beautiful, “Thank you,” she was flushed with pride and love for her newly
discovered baby. She hadn’t removed her hand from her stomach the entire time, “Alright,” she
breathed deeply, the air feeling cleaner somehow, “Let’s get going, shall we?”

Lexa nodded numbly, her brilliant mind Dial-Up slow. She vaguely took note that Clarke was so, so
happy, and the date that her ultrasound was on. It wasn’t until she was seated behind the wheel of
her car did she feel clarity return to her.

“Dr. Jackson said I was five weeks along, so that was when, exactly? Ontari's wedding?”

Lexa found the date calculation calming for her mind to mess with the numbers, “No, that was four
weeks ago. Five weeks ago was your last period, I believe,”

“That can’t be possible,” Clarke frowned, turning to Lexa in confusion. The woman turned the
sports car over and backed out of the space, “We couldn’t have had sex on my period?”
Lexa paused, thinking hard, and then she remembered, “You got off of it the night before
Ontari's party!”

“You’re right!” Clarke exclaimed, then frowned, “Wait. So you’re telling me that we made my baby
at Anya's bar?”

Lexa’s heart twisted at the wording, but she laughed at the idea, “Well, I think it’s possible. The
timing does add up,”

“I can’t believe this,” Clarke bemoaned, “After all that careful planning, and the painstaking effort I
put into narrowing down a list of people, and then actually putting it into action, that I’m pregnant as
a result of a drunken hook up in the supply closet of a club?!”

Lexa was full-out laughing, and Clarke leaned an elbow on the window ledge to put her face in her
hand, but Lexa could see the curl of the woman’s lips. When the green-eyed driver had collected
herself, she reviewed Clarke’s words, and frowned slightly.

“Wait, I never actually asked,” she started, and looked at Clarke in careful questioning as she pulled
up to a red light, “Who else was on the list of possible candidates?”

Clarke looked back, tilting her head, contemplating the safety of the question. Not safe, her mind
screamed at her, “Well, you were my number one choice, if that’s what you’re asking,”

“It is, a bit,” Lexa replied, tapping the steering wheel, “But who else?”

“Well," Clarke hesitated, hand drifting toward her stomach, "number two was, uh, actually,
Bellamy Blake,”

“What?!” Lexa exploded, whipping her head to stare at the smaller woman, “You would have asked
Bellamy to, to-“

“Lexa, the light is green,”

The woman gunned the gas, muttering, “I don’t see how that could have been a viable option,” she
frowned, “Not only would it have been entirely inappropriate on Octavia’s behalf, but no doubt you
would have contracted some kind of venereal disease, that man has slept with so many women,”

Clarke was smiling in amusement, watching Lexa frown and speak mostly to herself, “He never
would have been as gentle with you as I was. Not to mention he has a horrible personality, and
honestly, he’s conceited and arrogant. So full of himself,”

“Oh? And you’re saying you’re not full of yourself?” Clarke cut in, teasing and entertained. Lexa
eyed the smirking woman and rolled her eyes, grinning a bit.

“I’m saying I can make you full of myself,”

Clarke laughed, “Didn’t you hear Dr. Jackson? You already did,” her voice was light, and Lexa
smiled brilliantly.

“Mm, that is true. But I am a creature of habit, you know,” here, she winked, and Clarke laughed
once more.

“Don’t I know it,” she smiled, then bit her lip, “But you don’t have to worry about that anymore,”

Lexa felt her smile slide off her face almost instantly, “Of course. Yes, you’re right,”
Clarke peered at Lexa, her features etched in concern. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know
what Lexa was thinking: didn’t know herself what was going on. All Clarke knew was that Lexa re-
entered her life at her request to fulfill a single purpose. And now that purpose was realized, and her
presence was no longer strictly required.

But Clarke knew that her heart still required the charming brunette woman. She had practically lived
at Lexa’s apartment for six months, and going back to the life before, without Lexa in it, made her an
aching mix of saddened and nervous. She had fallen asleep to Lexa’s steady breathing and woken up
to her thick throated wish for her a good morning, and had grown used to it.

When Ontari had occupied her apartment for even those few days, Clarke had found the sheets a
little too cold, the bed a little too big. Only a few nights, and Clarke had missed her.

“Hey, Lex,” Clarke started, her tone soft and nervous, “I don’t want you thinking that this means that
we’re…” she searched, and didn’t miss the tightening of Lexa’s fingers on the steering wheel, “that I
don’t want to be,” she bit her lip, and the air was thick with tension.

“Friends?” Lexa supplied softly, and Clarke sent a softly conflicted look to the brunette, who stared
at the road.

“Yeah,” Clarke replied, her heart saying no.

“Thank you,” Lexa said politely.

The blonde-haired woman breathed in deeply. Well, that fixed absolutely nothing. But what else was
there to say? To ask anything of Lexa right now would be… selfish.

So they drove in silence. When they neared Clarke’s apartment, her mind made quick steps forward.

“Are you hungry?” she offered Lexa lightly, and the woman sent a searching green look. Then, Lexa
cracked a smile.

“Yeah. I’m starving. Lunch?”

Clarke, trying, smiled back, “Yeah. I’ve also been waiting to watch that new Disney movie with the
emotions,”

Lexa laughed, “Don’t you think you’ll get your fill of Disney movies in the next couple years?”

“Psh. Not while we can make it a drinking game,” Clarke shrugged, then blanched, horrified, “Oh
God, I can’t drink anymore!”

Lexa only laughed at her and pulled into the lot. When they entered Clarke’s apartment, she made a
show of opening a beer from the fridge and sighing in pleasure after taking a long drink. The
disgusted noise Clarke made was monumental, muttering something about poor tastes.

The two ate lunch and Lexa drove them to the theatre. After a day out, they picked up some Chinese
take out and ate it at Lexa’s apartment, where the entertainment system was better.

Clarke fell asleep on the couch, and Lexa nudged her from her position behind her. They had
developed a very specific seating arrangement for lying on Lexa’s couch, and it involved Clarke
lying backwards against Lexa, between the woman’s legs, her head on Lexa’s shoulder, and the
taller woman’s arms wrapped under Clarke’s. It had only taken them one unfortunate Italian night to
figure out trying to eat like this wasn’t a good idea. Clarke had complained the entire time she
washed the marinara out of her hair.
Lexa turned the television off and suppressed a smile. Clarke was the absolute worst morning and
night person. She was either completely awake, or completely asleep, and for her, there should exist
no in between.

Lexa patted the sleeping woman’s hip, “Clarke,” she hummed. She only received an exhalation in
response, and she smiled, rolling her eyes. Then, she noticed where her hand was. Over Clarke’s
stomach. Her throat dried out, and carefully, she moved her hands to lift the sleeping woman’s shirt.

Just like Clarke had in the doctor’s office, she didn’t quite know what she expected to see. But her
mind tried to picture Clarke ballooned out and 38 weeks pregnant. It didn’t work very well. She was
just so slender.

Keeping her breathing steady, Lexa extended her hands in tandem to set on Clarke’s lower stomach.

‘There is a baby in here’ she thought, absolutely amazed. Clarke held life inside her. She was now a
home for a living, growing, thing. A beautiful thing. And that beautiful thing would grow and grow,
and call Clarke Mom someday.

But that was a long time from now. A long time to grow into some beautiful child from the fragile
little sprout under her hands. Would Clarke be alright? Would the baby? Who would be there to help
her? To get food when she had cravings? To bend and lift when she was too pregnant to do it? She
would be a single mother. Sometimes lonely, sometimes helpless.

‘I could be there.’ Lexa thought. Her fingers stroked the warm skin, and she bit her lip, her eyes
misting for a reason that escaped her. She had made a child. A baby. She had been a half that created
a whole.

She wanted to be there. For the sonogram, the first kicks, the cravings, the lifting, everything. But
that wasn’t an option. That wasn’t what Clarke had asked her for.

Lexa swallowed hard, replacing Clarke’s shirt over her stomach and shaking the woman awake
gently. Like a zombie, Clarke shoved herself upright off the couch and drug her feet toward the
bedroom, leaving Lexa to pick the food containers up to throw out. It had been an emotionally tiring
day, and Lexa really just wanted to lie in bed. A sentiment Clarke seemed to share.

Lexa walked into her bedroom, stripped to her boyshort underwear, and replaced her bra with a soft
tshirt. She threw her clothes in a hamper and noticed Clarke had done the same, but the smaller
woman had apparently woken herself enough to use the restroom.

Climbing under her silk sheets, Lexa sighed and relaxed against the pillows. The normalcy was so
calming for her, and the only difference between tonight and any other was that Clarke wasn’t in bed
yet.

She opened her eyes, feeling her dick twitch. It was almost Pavlovian; this was their pattern. They
went to dinner, a concert, shopping, stayed in, whatever. They would have a nice time, come back to
Lexa’s, and have sex. Then, they slept, woke up, went to work, and started again.

So when Clarke turned the light in the bathroom off, Lexa’s length was hardened and pulsing,
bulging against her underwear. It was incredibly distracting, and her body was confused as to why
Clarke had climbed in bed, but not crossed to Lexa yet, even if her brain knew why.

Similarly, Clarke knew this was the time she’d be kissing the gorgeous woman in bed with her, her
hands wandering, stroking Lexa into firmer hardness. All right before Lexa gently pushed her length
inside Clarke’s drenched entrance, connecting precisely and wonderfully. She was already incredibly
wet, despite having no stimulus. Clarke heard Lexa roll over and sigh deeply.

The bedroom air was tense, and Clarke was suddenly wide awake. She listened as Lexa tossed and
turned, and she finally rolled to look at Lexa’s profile.

“What’s wrong?” Clarke asked her, pulling the sheets under her arms and over her breasts.

“It’s nothing,” Lexa said gently, quickly.

“Really, what is it?”

“I’m hard, and it’s driving me crazy,” was the mild response, “It should go away on it’s own,”

Clarke winced in sympathy. Lexa had once described to her the painfully uncomfortable feeling of
blue balls, and she had gained a whole new level of respect for the woman.

But she bit her lip and nodded, humming in sympathy. She so badly wanted to touch Lexa. To feel
her warm skin slide across her own. But she couldn’t, not now. Clarke felt her heart sink, her mind
wondering when the last time they had kissed had been. When she had last traced Lexa's jawline
with her lips. If she had known it would be their last kiss, would she have done it differently?

She rolled, her back to Lexa, and shut her eyes.

‘Yes.’

“Lexa, stop it,” Clarke giggled, fighting the wandering hands playfully as she cooked. Her pregnant
stomach forced her to stand away from the stove, but her cooking skills were still more than top-
notch.

Lexa, for her part, sighed but accepted the kiss Clarke offered as a peace treaty. She stepped away
and shrugged her coat on, eyeing Clarke’s curves as the woman moved about the kitchen.

“Clarke, I’m off now, darling,” she called, collecting her case.

“Oh, actually, Lexa, could you reach the coriander up there?” Clarke was straining slightly to reach
the top shelf of the cabinet, “It’s too high for me,” she turned pleading blue eyes to Lexa, who simply
tilted her head in confusion.

“No,” she gilded out, “You’re supposed to take care of yourself. I suppose I could watch, though?”

“Uhm, okay,” Clarke replied, unsure. That wasn’t like Lexa at all. But she shook it off and turned to
the cabinet once again. The top shelf seemed to move further and further away as she reached for it.
She strained, stretching, leaning against the counter on her toes.

Her teeth grit and she continued to struggle, breaking into a sweat. She braced a knee on the top of
the counter, and heaved, one hand on her belly, the other still striving to skin the spice.

She finally broke, and jumped off her foot planted on the ground, and yes! – her fingertips brushed
the bottle.

But then she felt her center of gravity shift. Too late, she realized it. She was going to fall. And she
did. In slow motion, the kitchen tilted, and it was like Alice falling down the rabbit hole to
Wonderland. She saw Lexa’s face, expressionless, watching.
And then she hit the floor, face first, stomach first, and she opened her mouth to scream for her baby.
But the world turned upside down, and she was looking at her baby.

In a plastic safety tank, hooked up to wires and tubes, monitors attached to every surface of her too-
small baby. She could just see enough to notice the shock of curling blonde hair. And she wanted to
die.

Her body broke, but she felt strong arms catch her. She turned into that familiar chest and cried,
leaning back to look into Lexa’s sad, sad eyes. Then, with some sort of somber obligation, Lexa took
up one of Clarke’s hands and guided her to her right, to where Bellamy Blake stood in a tuxedo.

Clarke’s blue eyes were wide as she watched the tortured expression on Lexa’s face, and her
emerald eyes were so, so, sad. Those perfect lips parted,

“We could have been in love,” she pleaded, but Clarke didn’t listen. She just saw those bleeding
green eyes, and looked to her baby in the corner. Just as Bellamy tugged her hand to walk down the
altar, she saw her baby’s eyes open.

And once more stared into fresh, liquid green eyes.

“Pity,” Bellamy said carelessly, looking on the baby in distain, “If only you hadn’t fallen,”

But Clarke looked to her own stomach, to find she was pregnant again, and still perched on the
counter, and her center of gravity shifted one more time. And she screamed.

“CLARKE!”

Blazing, anxious green eyes poured into her soul as Clarke woke up. The air was cold, and she
breathed heavily, Lexa’s warm, worried, weight anchoring her body to the present.

“Clarke, you were having a nightmare,” her silken voice was concerned and even in the darkness
with just the moon to light the room, Clarke knew she was beautiful.

“Lexa?” Clarke choked out.

“I’m here,” she whispered back.

“Lexa, will you…” Clarke placed a hand around Lexa’s beautiful jaw, “I don’t want you to just be
the donor,”

Lexa’s heart thudded, and caught up with her mouth, “I want to take care of you,” the woman rushed
out, shifting to lay on top of Clarke, “You and the baby,”

Clarke was nodding, and she felt a smile flicker over her face. Lexa wouldn’t have said it if she
didn’t mean it, “Thank you,” she whispered, her other hand coming up to trace Lexa’s lips.

“I just want to know you’re safe,” Lexa told the woman under her seriously.

“Okay,” Clarke nodded, pulling Lexa’s head down to her own, “Okay, Lexa,” and then they kissed.
Lexa stiffened at first, but soon her body had relaxed, and she kissed Clarke for everything she was
worth. Clarke was pregnant, and she couldn’t think about anything other than how much she wanted
to care for her.
Slowly, their tongues traced familiar patterns into their mouths, and Clarke’s mind relaxed in a bliss
more addictive than heroin. Who needed heroin when Lexa’s hardness was pressing into her
stomach?

She reached inside Lexa's underwear and ran a hand over the stiff length, the thin, sensitive skin so
smooth in her hand. Lexa gave an expulsion of air. Under her boyshort underwear, Clarke rubbed
the head of Lexa’s cock and massaged the underside.

The women kissed, and Clarke was guided Lexa out of her underwear and shirt until she was
completely naked. Lexa licked and kissed until she had captured a nipple in her mouth, and Clarke
hummed, stripping herself of her own remaining clothes. Clarke's breasts were heavy and lovely in
Lexa's hands, and Clarke used the time to quickly arrange Lexa's hair into a messy tie, keeping it out
of Clarke’s face.

Kissing, Lexa shifted, and her erection sprang upwards, directly slapping Clarke’s hot center. They
both moaned, and it felt like it had been far too long. Equal desire in equal measure.

Lexa searched with her hips to Clarke’s tight entrance and pushed at the soft heat. Clarke hissed.

"Be gentle, Lex," she whispered, "I missed you,"

Lexa grunted deeply, knowing exactly how Clarke felt. She lifted a hand to slip two fingers inside
Clarke, and the woman gasped out her nonsense approval. A few moments of work passed, and a
plead 'Lexa' drove the brunette to try again. She directed her cock to Clarke's pussy and slowly
slipped the swollen head inside, Clarke whined, and Lexa continued to push. Simultaneously, the
two sighed in sweet relief when Lexa slid inside the wet, waiting entrance, the base of her erection
connecting fully.

“Lexa,” Clarke murmured, reaching for the woman, and Lexa readily made herself available to the
reaching hands. They kissed, deeply and soothingly, some frayed portion of their hearts healing over.

Lexa drew up to hold her body over Clarke’s and drew out slowly, pumping back in easily. The
slim, well-worn hands of a chef traced over her shoulders, triceps, and breasts. The moonlight
allowed their eyes to adjust well enough to see each other in the darkness, and they both felt their far-
off orgasms. This was not a rush, not a race. Not a means to an end. Cerulean eyes stared into
glowing emeralds, and it was profound, the emotions flickering like water in the sun.

Continuing to flex her abs and ass, Lexa lowered her body on top of Clarke’s, and she kissed up and
down her neck, not missing a beat. Clarke sighed in total contentment, wrapping her arms around
Lexa, her legs spread for the deeply thrusting woman.

“Lexa,”

Lexa turned her head and they kissed intimately. She pushed onto one elbow, allowing her to piston
in and out as well as access Clarke’s face, using her other hand to run over the woman’s ribs, hip and
ass, hitching one of Clarke's legs over her shoulder.

Clarke cupped the woman’s jaw, loving how Lexa continued to move even more deeply inside of
her, pleasure spiking up her spine from every thrust. She didn’t look away from Lexa’s eyes.

“Lexa. I'm pregnant," she whispered into the quiet of the steaming room, "We made a baby." Lexa
didn’t pause her straining length in the process, but she stared into Clarke’s eyes, seeing the
unbridled joy, and love for her baby. And yes, fear. Fear of the unknown future, but faith, too.

“We made a baby,” her thick voice repeated, her hand moving to cup Clarke’s beautiful face,
“You’re pregnant, Clarke. You're pregnant with my baby,” she hushed out, her voice clipped and
grinding. Exertion and emotion, both, in her tone.

Clarke felt her insides jar at Lexa’s phrasing, but it melted into something hot and prideful, an edge
of deep-seated satisfaction around the corners, “Yes. I’m pregnant. You’re my baby’s mother, Lexa.”

Her hands carded through Lexa’s soft hair, and her legs wrapped around the thrusting waist, her
ankles locking. She twisted her hands open and swiped her thumbs over Lexa’s sculpted high
cheekbones when two uneven tears spilled from the wide, forest green eyes.

“Lexa, stop,” She whispered, and Lexa pulled out immediately, her erection sliding wetly across
Clarke’s stomach as the woman pulled her face to meet her own. She kissed Lexa, once, twice, and
looked at her hard.

“Do you want to be a Mom, Lexa?” Clarke breathed, her voice made of candle smoke and velvet.

Lexa’s insides twisted, and she bent back down to press her lips to Clarke’s. The woman felt
something in between her heart and her stomach release, like a padlock on a gasket depressurizing.
As soon as Clarke had put the feelings into words, Lexa knew.

She moved back to let Clarke see her clearly, and her vocal chords were wire taut, but her heart
stayed lucid.

“Please,” she held one of Clarke’s hands on her face, “Please let me be a mother,” the
brunette woman’s eyes shone in a pyre of determination and weight, “We made a baby, Clarke. And
I want so badly to take care of you and this baby. But more than that,”

Clarke didn’t interrupt, and she watched as Lexa was swept away by passion and an aching sort of
wonder she knew all too well. And Lexa wore it so gracefully.

“More than that, yes, I want to be a mother. To love her, and teach her right from wrong, and watch
her grow. Because she’s so beautiful, Clarke, I know it,”

She rested her forehead against Clarke’s collarbone, “Clarke,” she whispered, like a plea, "Clarke,"

Clarke held the woman and despite the tense atmosphere, she smiled. Lexa was just… perfect. She
was confusing and simple, and Clarke had only dared to think a whisper of this being a possibility.
Like some bright star lighting her life from an infinity away.

“Lexa,” she hummed, and fingers stroked over where Clarke hadn’t noticed Lexa had placed them
on her flat stomach in acknowledgement.

“Lexa, be our baby’s mother?” she said, her voice a requested statement, “I never knew you wanted
to be. I guessed, but I didn’t really know. But I’m telling you now, Lexa, I want you. Because we
made a baby together,” Clarke smiled, amazed, and Lexa had lifted to observe her with bright,
shining green eyes, “We made a baby, and you’re going to be an amazing Mom,” she hushed out.

Lexa took Clarke’s lips with her own and slipped back inside the woman, her thrusts faster and
deeper than before. Clarke gasped, delighted. The brunette's erection was solid and unyielding,
making Clarke’s orgasm roll and approach her like a storm.

When they had kissed, licked, nipped, and touched enough to work their orgasms closer, Clarke
repeated Lexa’s name like it was a prayer. Clarke came with a spine curling shudder moments later,
and her insides twisted and unknotted in pleasure. Lexa all at once ejaculated deeply inside of
Clarke, and she savored the warm feeling.
Lexa gathered the mother of her child in her arms and laid kisses everywhere she could reach. When
she settled, her head was on Clarke's stomach, and the woman smiled at her.

“You said ‘her’.” She commented.

“Yes, I suppose I did,” Lexa smiled, amused at the catch.

“Any particular reason for that?”

“I was told that my genetics tend to produce girls. Some boys, but mostly females. And I really can’t
see us with a baby boy, beautiful as he may be,”

Clarke felt her smile stretch wide, “So, a girl?”

“Yeah,” Lexa laughed, stretching out on her stomach, languidly caressing the fertile womb under her
lips, “A girl,”

Clarke hummed, “Maybe we’ll be the exception?”

“I think it’s a girl,” Lexa said smugly, and the blonde haired woman raised an eyebrow. Lexa
continued, “Only your daughter could cause so much trouble for you so early,”

Clarke laughed.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Hey! I knew you in high school, Clarke, don’t you remember?”

“Shit. I actually managed to forget about that,”

Lexa grinned rakishly, propping a hand to support her head, “Mhm. Did you know that I thought
you were incredibly sexy in college?”

“Lexa, everyone in college thought I was sexy,”

“You didn’t let me finish. I thought you were sexy, until I found out what an enormous ego you
had,”

Clarke laughed and reached a hand to play with the fine hair at the back of Lexa’s head.

“I thought you were stuck up,” she said simply.

“What?!”

“It’s true,” the woman was grinning up at the faux-shocked face, “You walked around campus for
eight years like you and your friends were God’s gift to mankind,”

Lexa raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, and caught Clarke’s free hand in her own, kissing the
knuckles sweetly, “I doubt any of us suffered any delusion of the sort. Mankind? No. Womankind,
however…” she crawled up the bed and guided the captured hand down the length of her body, a
smirk growing, and Clarke found herself cupping Lexa’s flaccid penis, “It’s possible,”

Clarke fought every iota of her body wanting to tap Lexa in the balls and clear away her curling
smile, but damned if Lexa wasn’t so incredibly endearing. The woman gave a huff of amusement
and let it pass.
“I’ll reply to that with only the statement that it took you six months to get me pregnant,” she replied
deftly, her fingers absently stroking Lexa’s soft dick. The woman raised an eyebrow and a twinkle
came to light her eyes.

“Well then,” she purred, feeling her cock twitch in Clarke’s oddly capable fingers, “Let’s not make
you wait another six, shall we?”

Clarke smirked, “Can you go again tonight?”

“Undoubtedly,”

“When will you be able to get it up?” Clarke asked interestedly, her eyes darkening by the second.

“Clarke, just a moment, please,”

Almost a full half-second of stroking, and Clarke frowned down the bed at Lexa’s still only slightly
responsive penis.

“Lexa-“

“Clarke, come here,” Lexa turned the woman’s head, and joined their lips. Clarke stilled her hand
and focused on the soft smoothness of Lexa’s lips over hers, and the perfect pattern of deep and
shallow kissing. To her delight and surprise, only a few moments passed before Lexa’s erection
swelled and grew in her hand.

She continued to stroke until it was straining and large. Lexa hummed, looking wickedly at Clarke,
and the woman only grinned, once again kissing the brunette on top of her.

Clarke didn’t know exactly when things had changed so drastically. In the beginning, she wasn’t
sure whether kissing Lexa was acceptable. Now, she couldn’t imagine reaching orgasm without
having their lips close. When exactly had they stopped calling on God during sex, and instead called
out for each other? She remembered their first night together, and how she had gotten herself ready
to receive Lexa. When now, she had smacked Lexa’s shoulder just the other day for not enough
foreplay?

And when did… this happen?

She didn’t know, and she didn’t care to investigate. All she and Lexa were aware of, is that they
were happy. Content in the odd limbo of heated affection and dutiful passion they had entrenched
themselves in.

Clarke was, to say the least, shocked. There was a large helping of amusement in there somewhere,
but it was mostly concerned alarm. Lexa had lost her mind. Or come startlingly close, it seemed.
Clarke was currently sitting cross-legged on the couch, watching as the blonde woman wore a hole
through her own living room floor.

Lexa had moved two tri-fold stands into the room from her office, an overly large writing page set on
each. Clarke was on-call for the restaurant, and Lexa had only just arrived back home. She paced in
tight circles, her teeth on edge, but her voice surprisingly pleasant.

“No, I would like to speak with Dr. Titus, for the sixth time,” she ran critical eyes over the left page,
taping a pen in her hands, “yes, I will hold,” she touched the Bluetooth headset in her ear to mute the
mouthpiece.

“Uh, Lexa?” the woman began hesitantly.

“Yes, Clarke?”

“What in the hell are the boxes by the door for?”

The woman paused her pacing and glanced, her face lighting up, “Oh wonderful! They’re finally
here,”

“Finally? Lexa, I had to sign for them because they were overnighted.”

“They’re your supplements!”

“My…”

“Nothing alarming, I promise. I had two of my best interns cross reference the list I gathered of
necessary vitamins and supplements you’ll be needing, with those of other prestigious fertility clinics
and doctors. Then, they researched various brands and types to find the best of each,” Lexa was
speaking quickly and proudly, missing completely Clarke’s growing look of disbelief, “Naturally,
there’s folic acid, vitamin B, as well as iron, calcium, omega-3, and low dosages of vitamin A. I
didn’t get vitamin D, because that’s what I’m here for,” Lexa’s swift wink was almost missed by
Clarke, and the woman kept going, unperturbed, “And then obviously, I got them in all in different
pill sizes so you can find what you’re comfortable with, as well as in powered form if you’re feeling
too nauseous to swallow the pills,”

Lexa broke to breathe, her smile curling happily at her accomplishments, once more speaking
quickly, “I sent your health details in to a clinic last week and they’ve devised a rough schedule for
you, but you have a dietician appointment tomorrow morning just to be sure,” she suddenly broke
off, touching her ear once more.

“Yes, I’m here,” she continued her pacing, listening to the phone intently, and Clarke kept her rear
on the sofa cushions, not knowing exactly what demon had possessed Lexa, but hoping not to incur
its wrath.

“Ah, Dr. Titus,” Lexa glided out, her accent svelte and warm, “Yes, I’m sorry to pull you out of
surgery, I hope you’ll forgive me. You see, my name is Lexa Woods… yes, the Nykos are dear
friends of mine. In fact, they mentioned you to me when they heard I was going to have a baby,”

She paused, smiling widely with pride at no one, and Clarke matched the expression indulgently.

“Mhm, yes, thank you very much, but that should really be given to my partner, who is the one
actually carrying the baby,” she paused, and laughed. Clarke sighed and waited the woman out.
Lexa and Clarke had decided on something to call their relationship – at least when it came to the
baby – they were going to be parents together, a combined effort. They were partners in this
endeavor.

It saved time, in all honesty.

“C-section or vaginal birth?” Lexa seemed to repeat, turning curious eyes to Clarke, who tilted her
head and wrinkled her eyebrows. Lexa turned her focus sharply, as if the doctor were in front of her,
“You mean to tell me you are not proficient at both?”

Clarke almost laughed.

Lexa had narrowed her eyes at thin air and told the man she would consider him, as if it were some
type of dating contest. She fiddled with the Bluetooth once again and started to write quickly on the
notepad.

“Harper? Yes, will you get me in touch with the next one?”

Clarke rolled her eyes and got comfortable on the couch as Lexa traced the same back and forth line
on the carpet as she volleyed between speaking and listening. Four doctors later, Lexa had filled an
entire page of the large pad in detailed notes of doctors, hospitals and specifics of care.

“Clarke,” she called, her gaze switching to the second pad.

“Hm?” Clarke’s attention focused, and Lexa started to speak in her swift, smiling, business-like tone
once more.

“I’ve gone ahead and done some research,”

“Really? Or did an intern give you a report?” Clarke drolled, and Lexa ignored her.

“And a few small changes may need to be taken, nothing large, don’t worry. For instance, to quit
smoking, but you don’t do that. So, easy enough,” The woman was folding her arms and reading
from the pad, “No alcohol, obviously. And studies have linked caffeine to miscarriages and
complications, so I’m afraid you can’t have coffee, tea, soda, that kind of thing. Speaking of, no
more raw eggs, sushi, oysters, or fish. They qualify as hazardous foods,”

Clarke didn’t know if she wanted to be amused or if she would rather start getting upset. Lexa only
continued,

“And I hope you’ve been avoiding cleaning, as the chemicals in the cleaning products may be
harmful. Oh! How have your bras been feeling? Doesn’t matter; I’ve also arranged an appointment at
a specialty maternity shop to get you new, comfortable lingerie. I remember you mentioned how
your current bras are uncomfortable. And I’m incredibly excited to attend that with you,”

Lexa smiled mischievously at the pad, but she batted a hand elegantly at air and shook her head,
“No, I’m sorry. I really should stop that. We shouldn’t have sex until the second trimester at the
earliest,”

“Okay,” Clarke interrupted, her line having been found, “Lexa, stop it.”

The brunette turned back to the woman curiously, her train of thought and momentum derailed.
Finally, in Clarke’s opinion.

“Lexa,” the seated woman stood and planted her hands on her hips, “I… appreciate everything
you’ve done here. I do. It’s incredibly thoughtful of you. I’m thrilled about the appointments, and the
pills, and.. stuff,” Lexa smiled brightly, and Clarke’s gaze turned hard, “But I am going to eat what I
want. It’s my job. And I’m going to clean things. I’m not going to be doing lines of Clorox, Lexa,
really. I sure as hell am going to have a cup of coffee every day,”

She ran a hand through her hair and then held her other up to stop Lexa from interrupting.

“And you need to quit harassing every OBGYN in D.C. to find the one who knows best how to get
a baby out of me. You’re being ridiculous,”

Clarke felt her agitation and exasperation roll in her stomach,

“I have a baby growing inside of me, not a bomb. And the baby likes it when Mommy is happy.
Mommy cannot be happy if she doesn’t have her coffee, Lexa. I'm throwing up, I'm horny, and I'm
urinating, and am going to lose a lot of my bodily functions’ control, and I am going to do it with
some goddamn coffee. I’m also incredibly pissed off that this is why we haven’t had sex for a week
and a half! Sex is healthy for me! So relax and just let me continue to live a normal, although still
safe, life. When I hit the third trimester, then I give you full permission to continue this mental
breakdown. But for now, I need coffee and sex. Okay?”

By now, Lexa had managed to reign herself in and was twitching her fingernails together, looking
like a freshly kicked puppy. Clarke sighed, trying to relax.

“Lexa,” she called softly, and the apologetic green eyes flickered up to her, “C’mere,” and Clarke
extended an arm, taking Lexa’s hand when the woman stepped toward her.

She curled herself into Lexa’s side, and placed the kidnapped hand on her lower stomach. Her head
leaned against the taller woman’s neck while she firmly pressed the hand down. Clarke had no baby
bump to speak of, but there was a definite hardness to be felt.

“You know, I did some research of my own,” she intoned lightly, “They say at 6 weeks, the baby is
the size of a pea,”

The brunette stilled. Then, Lexa’s fingers splayed towards Clarke’s hips, and the woman shifted to
face the sunshine-haired chef. Her full lips were pulled into an awe-inspired smile, and she gracefully
lowered herself to the floor, kneeling in what Clarke knew to be a very expensive pencil skirt on the
soft carpet.

Clarke felt her heart tighten and double time as Lexa pressed her lips to Clarke’s womb.

“Hello, sweet pea,” Lexa murmured throatily, her eyes glimmering in excitement and subdued love
for their child. Clarke laid a hand in Lexa’s hair, threading through the thick mahogany curls.
Lexa laid another soft kiss to the clothed skin. It was such a sweet, tender sight, Clarke knew
instantly she would remember it forever.

“Help Mommy forgive your Mama for meddling, hm?”

Clarke laughed, and Lexa rose, still softly stroking her stomach, “It is much too early to use our child
as leverage, Lexa Woods,” she threatened halfheartedly.

“Ahh,” Lexa hummed, “So your forgiveness has to be earned, is that it?” She crossed the living
room and started disassembling the paper and stands, and Clarke felt a hot press of guilt cover her
heart. Lexa had very little control over what was obviously something she was incredibly excited to
invest in.

And Clarke knew Lexa was a hard-won businesswoman. She was intelligent and organized, willing
to put in work and sacrifice. A matter as close to her heart as her own child was not something she
was going to approach lightly.

The light-haired woman brought her hand to touch her stomach lightly.

‘You will be so loved, little one,’

“Lexa, wait,” Clarke called down the hall Lexa had disappeared in. The woman emerged, hands
empty, a grim expression playing over her face.

“I’d like to change, Clarke,” she replied hesitantly, and the shorter woman realized Lexa was waiting
for her to start criticizing her again. Clarke crossed the distance and wrapped her arms around Lexa’s
neck, laying a kiss on the woman’s lips.

Lexa relaxed fully into the feeling of the simple press of their mouths together. When Clarke drew
away, her nose wrinkled cutely.

“I’m sorry, Lexa. You only care about the baby and I, and I reacted… poorly. I should have been
more patient,” she said lowly, looking sincerely into Lexa’s eyes. It was much too early for them to
encounter parenting problems, and the last thing she wanted was for Lexa to feel her support wasn’t
everything Clarke wanted.

Lexa’s arms around Clarke contracted slightly, and her eyes grew soft. She reached to adjust a hair in
Clarke’s eyes, “I admit, I overdid it,” she said, “But I’ve just been thinking myself in circles about
how I can be the best mother and partner for you,” she smiled slightly, “I went a little crazy, I
suppose,”

“You didn’t,” Clarke reassured, thumbing Lexa’s high cheekbone affectionately, “I get it, and I want
you to keep trying so manically hard to care for us,”

Lexa laughed and hugged the woman, kissing her hair, “Thank you,”

“Mhm,” Clarke separated from Lexa, “We don’t have any groceries, so go change and we’ll do that
thing where we freak out the new servers by making them wait on us,” she smirked.

Lexa laughed and nodded, “You’re too cruel to them, you know. I think Charlotte is sweet,”

“She dropped five of my brand new plates,” Clarke iced.

“Sure, sure,” Lexa waved, unbuttoning her dress blouse, “I’ll be out in 5 minutes,”

“I just heard 10,”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

Clarke laughed, turning back to the living room and sitting on the couch. She suddenly remembered
something and shouted to the direction of the bedroom, “Oh, and Lexa?”

“Ye-es?” The muffled reply came.

“You are having sex with me tonight!”

Lexa’s echoing laughter made her smile.

“So, who’d you and Octavia sucker into baby sitting for you tonight?” Clarke drolled, amused.

Raven snorted, her lips curling in her devious smirk, “Monty and Jasper,”

“Oh Jesus, Raven. You’ll scare the hell out of Jasper! You know Monty wants a baby, you know,
yesterday,”

“I don’t think I could handle that,” Raven intoned, “You and I are too much already,”

Clarke nodded. Still in the first trimester, she and Lexa had only informed the Blake's of Clarke’s
pregnancy at 8 weeks, only to have the shocked couple tell them that Raven had her fourth
pregnancy confirmed three days prior.

“Well,” Raven amended, “When I say you and I, I really mean Octavia and you. Sometimes I swear
that woman thinks she’s the one who’s carrying the little bugger,”

“Lexa’s been doing the exact same thing!” Clarke exclaimed, sitting back in the booth. She and the
dark-headed woman were enjoying some time away from their partners, while the other two enjoyed
a guilt-free drink at the restaurant’s bar, “It’s almost constant, how she tries so hard to make sure I am
or am not doing certain things,”

“Oh yeah. Octavia swears Cece came out as sweet-tempered as she did because I slept on my left
side the whole time I was pregnant. I still wake up to her pushing me over,”

“Lexa told me we couldn’t do it from behind one night because she didn’t want to ‘poke’ the baby,”
Clarke commiserated, her embarrassment curbed by her audience. Raven was probably the only
person who could relate to her, and the hellion didn’t disappoint. She nodded, sipping her water.

“Octavia did that. And it’s not fucking true,”

“I know,” Clarke said icily, “She scheduled a doctors appointment to make sure,”

“She did what?” Raven raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah,” the blonde-haired woman confirmed in a battle-hardened way, “She got every detail she
could out of that woman, then proceeded to ask what to expect about my sex drive, what would feel
good, how the baby would be affected… It just went on,”

Raven snorted.

“Did you know Octavia and I didn’t have sex for almost six months after Cece?”

“Really?”

The short woman nodded, “It had nothing to do with her, honest. I still found her attractive, and she
still turned me on, I just… I don’t know,”

“I feel like that should be normal,”

Raven tilted her head, her eyes flicking toward the bar, “I think so, too. But she didn’t get it.
Convinced herself I didn’t want to be with her anymore or some shit,”

Clarke frowned.

“We worked it out, obviously. But I’m just saying, make sure you remember that even if you don’t
want to, doesn’t mean your woman doesn’t. She’ll be so nice about it, but still,” she shrugged, almost
at a loss.

“I get it,” Clarke murmured. They definitely hadn’t encountered that particular problem, “I don’t
think I’ll have to remember, though. My hormones are making it so I practically jump her when she
walks through the door every night,”

Raven laughed, “Lucky bitch. My tits are so tender I get sore from Octavia even looking at them too
hard,”

“Lexa does a different thing. She’s convinced my breasts are going to one day just be twice as
large,”

“Does Lexa hover? Octavia’s starting to hover,”

“Sometimes,” Clarke sigh shortly, her mouth twisting, “I’ll be cooking, and she gets this look on her
face that I know means she wants me to stop, but she wouldn’t dare ask me to,”

“I know that face,” Raven grouched, “Octavia combines it with this weird twitch in her hand when
she wants to take something away from me, like I’m Zoe with a lighter or something,”

Clarke crossed her arms, “Lexa traded her Porsche in for a ‘more family friendly’ SUV without
telling me,”

“You’re kidding,” Clarke shook her head, “What kind?”

“A Mercedes GL36,” she rattled off.

“Wow,” Raven raised her eyebrows, “Nice car,”

Clarke tipped her head in acknowledgement.

“It’s not the money that bothered me,” she confessed, “Between us, Lexa and I didn’t even feel it,
and it’s her car anyway. What made me upset was that we didn’t decide on it together. Our kid is
probably going to learn to drive in that car, you know?”

Raven nodded, frowning along side her pregnant friend. She turned suddenly vulnerable eyes away,
“Octavia picked out Cece's car seat without me,” she admitted, her voice breaking.

Clarke, for some strange reason, understood exactly how much of a travesty this was. Her lips parted
and she was suddenly angry, “You can’t be serious,”

Raven bit her lip, a hand coming up to block her eyes from the rest of the lounge, “I mean, I know
it’s not a big deal, but that seat went to Myles, and then Zoe after him. What if I hadn’t liked it?”

Clarke extended a hand hesitantly to lay over Raven’s, their fluctuating hormones aligned, and her
face was twisted in sympathy, thinking vividly about what she’d do if Lexa did such a thing.

“And Octavia’s such a good Mama, you know?” Raven was borderline sniffling, “She’s so good
with Cece, Myles, and Zoe, and she still makes time for me,” her bright eyes watered in confused
tears, “W-we almost never have time to have sex, and when we do, she’s still only concerned about
me!”

Clarke felt her own eyes moisten, and her throat tightened, “Lexa never comes until I do,” she said
softly, and Raven gave a watery grin.

“Octavia does this thing where she talks to my stomach for an hour every night. She says it’s ‘her
connecting with the baby’,”

Clarke laughed through her tears, picturing Lexa’s beautiful face kissing her womb, “Lexa calls the
baby ‘sweet pea’,” she choked, not even sure why she was crying.

But apparently, Raven knew, and the two pregnant women broke down in tears right there in the
restaurant. This was the scene Octavia and Lexa arrived to, and they exchanged already exhausted
glances. Lexa slid into the secluded booth, and Clarke instantly leaned into the woman, Octavia and
Raven copying their movements.
“I’m gonna take her to the bathroom,” Octavia told Lexa sturdily, trying to lead her sniffling wife out
of the seat. Lexa merely sighed and nodded, wondering how much they’d have to tip the waiter
Clarke just glared at.

“No. He’s honestly just the most obtusely arrogant man I’ve ever been forced to work with!” Lexa
fumed.

“Sounds like it. Violet?”

“No. The audacity of looking me right in the eyes and telling me I didn’t say something I definitely
said is maddening,”

“Mhm. Luna?”

“No, I know a Luna. And then Damien tried to defend me, which, I very much didn’t appreciate,”

“Of course you wouldn’t. Darren?”

“At the moment, it reminds me of Damien. No. So, I find the email I sent him and show it to him.
Right in front of him, and do you know what he says?”

“What does he say? How about Vera?”

“Hm, I think I like the names with longer syllables. He says his secretary didn’t give that one to
him,”

“Wow,” Clarke looked impressed, “this guy is an idiot, isn’t he?”

“You have no idea,” Lexa said dryly, shutting the sink off.

“I want a dishwasher in the new house,” Clarke said blithely, drying the plate in her hands. Lexa
laughed and was about to respond when her phone went off. Clarke sighed heavily.

“Aren’t Sundays sacred to those people?”

Lexa grimaced, “There is no holy day for the footmen of Satan,”

Clarke laughed, and Lexa reached up to click her Bluetooth, “Lexa Woods,” she answered
professionally. She leaned to put the plates on the taller shelves. Suddenly, she froze, shock crossing
her features. Clarke watched her with alarm, and Lexa’s next words made everything click.

“M-mom. You and Mother are where?”

Shit. Clarke felt ice crawl up her spine, while heat curled in her stomach. She turned, and dashed for
the hall bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach. It only took the smallest things to set her
morning sickness off. Lexa had been too stunned to chase after her.

“Yes, I see. My floor is the B side of number 3, Mom,” she gripped the counter, “Yes, of course I
have room… Sure. See you,”

Lexa hung up and flung the earpiece onto the counter, finding Clarke in the master bath, brushing
her teeth, her eyes wide. Lexa ran a hand through her hair.
“My parents are here. Right now. For the night,” she said haltingly. Clarke finished cleaning her
mouth.

“When will they be there? Is there enough time for me to-“

“They’re down in the garage,” Lexa sighed, “Not enough time to collect the signs that you don’t…
exist here,”

Clarke noted her careful wording. She had almost moved in, and at Lexa’s request. The women
considered it a non-issue as to where they would sleep that night. And their plans for the future were
just as hazy. Clarke wanted to live in a house, and Lexa had made it her venture to find the perfect
one. They referred to it ambiguously as ‘the house’. Not Clarke’s, not Lexa’s, not ‘their’. Just ‘the'
house.

“We’ll have to wing it,” Lexa said tightly, oblivious to Clarke’s internal monologue.

“Okay, and say what?” Clarke wondered. She knew a lot about Lexa’s parents through stories and
pictures, and Lexa knew the same about Clarke’s mother. With the information she had, she knew
Lexa’s parents wouldn’t like or understand the arrangement they had made; they themselves didn’t
fully understand it.

“I don’t quite know,” Lexa stressed, and Clarke nodded, leading the way out of the bathroom.

“We could be married?” she offered, her heart clenching at her own willingness. Lexa almost forgot
to take the next step forward mid-walk, but she relaxed and shook her head.

“We don’t have rings, and my mother would be furious I didn’t tell her I had gotten married.
Engaged?”

Clarke nodded, “Engaged should work as long as we don’t let them know I’m pregnant,”

A polite knocking sounded through the apartment and Lexa pulled a deep breath through her nose,
glancing at Clarke.

“Ready?”

The chef nodded, “Not at all. How do I look?”

Lexa crossed to the door and paused. She gave a brief smile, “Beautiful,”

She turned, and missed the affectionate crease of the woman’s eyes. Clarke highly doubted her
boyfriend jeans and tank top would impress Lexa’s aristocratic parents, but she appreciated the
compliment. Lexa unlocked the door’s bolt and pulled it open.

In the entryway stood Lexa’s mother and mom, each with perfect posture and similar-feeling auras of
the well-bred elite. Lexa’s mom was almost a carbon copy of Lexa, different colored hair and eyes,
but just as beautiful. Her mother, if Clarke didn’t know any better, was so masculine looking, she
would have identified her as a very pretty man.

“Mom, Mother, please come in,” Lexa said genially, letting the couple step inside, “I wasn’t
expecting anyone, or I would have prepared a bit,” she shut the door behind them, and locked it once
more.

‘Funny, how it sounds like a prison cell closing.’

“No need, Lexa, your mother and I wanted to surprise you. To see what you was going on with
you,” her mom said with a Splenda-like sweetness. Her voice told Clarke exactly where Lexa had
gotten the soft, gentle tones of her speaking cadence, but instead of Lexa’s fresh laundry gentleness,
her mom's held an undertone of severity.

Luckily, the older Woods' were turned toward Lexa, their backs to Clarke who stood awkwardly by
the nearest couch. This still meant that they were almost literally backing their daughter into a corner.

“Well, Mom,” Lexa supplied with a smoothness she didn’t feel, “It has been quite a while since we
were last together,”

“Lexa, don’t be ridiculous,” her mother intoned, the tall, dusty-brown hair cut immaculately short,
“We spoke over the phone not six months ago, you remember,”

“Yes, Mother,” the woman supplied, her voice an ocean of persuasive reasoning, “But that was a
business call. You asked me to find someone to purchase one of the lake houses,”

The lined, handsome face frowned, “I suppose I understand what you’re trying to say,”

“What is the significance of it, though, my dear?” her mother questioned.

“I’m saying I haven’t updated you both on my life as I probably should have been doing,” Lexa said,
giving a hard look to her parents, almost pleading them to be reasonable.

“Is there something we should know, Lexa?” Her mother's voice was deep enough to evoke
memories of restaurant maitre’ds calling her mother ‘sir’.

“Yes,” she said tightly. Lexa raised her head proudly. Her gaze shifted, and she moved to where
Clarke stood. Instantly, she felt the heat of the two older Woods' rest on her, and she wanted to itch
herself all over at the unforgiving judgement in the observing eyes.

Lexa’s calming scent pressed into her side, and Clarke re-arranged her face to send to Lexa, who met
her eyes and smiled like Clarke was her most prized person. In truth, she was, but it was a look she
had reserved only for the most intimate of moments between them. Giving it in front of her voracious
parents felt cheap. Still…

“Mom, Mother,” Lexa said strongly, turning back to her parents, “This is Clarke Griffin, my
fiancée,”

Clarke gave a smallish smile, sending a light nod to Lexa’s parents each, “It’s nice to meet you,” her
voice graveled out lowly, easily. She knew that no matter what happened here, nothing between her
and Lexa would change, but she wanted to make sure nothing between Lexa and her parents did.

“Oh,” her mom said, glancing up at her confused, frowning wife, “I had no idea, Lexa,” she stepped
closer to the couple, gaining social decorum with each stride, until her mask was perfectly in place.
Her hand extended to Clarke, and she took the younger woman’s in her own, “Alexandrine Woods.
Congratulations, Clarke, I look forward to getting to know you,”

“Likewise, ma’am,” Clarke replied pleasantly. Lexa’s mother crossed to enter the sphere and also
shook Clarke’s hand, her features unreadable.

“Declan Woods,” she said lowly, the green eyes Clarke had seen melted in fondness and play, hard
and vexed. The woman dropped the hand and raised an eyebrow, “Where is your ring, Ms. Griffin?”

Alexandrine jumped on this in an instant, snapping her eyes to Lexa, “Did you not buy your fiancée
a ring, Lexa?”

“It’s at the jewelers,” Clarke explained, her voice a facilitating pleasantry, “I’ve had it for a few
months, so Lexa suggested I get it cleaned,”

“I see,” Alexandrine said, deceptively kind, “A wonderful proposition, Lexa,”

Declan backed away from Clarke with an easier nod, turning to her daughter, “Have you both had
dinner?”

“No, we had planned just to cook and eat here,” Lexa said, wondering what she was going to wear
tonight, when the unavoidable-

“Nonsense, darling!” Alexandrine said, waving a perfectly manicured hand, “Of course we’re taking
our daughter, and her fiancée, out to dinner. Declan, tell them about that restaurant you’ve been
talking about. Oh, Lexa, your mother ate at some fabulous restaurant the other month, and I’ve been
dying to try it,” the woman paused, her blue eyes flicking over her daughter, “You’re not going like
that, are you?”

Lexa smiled, “Of course not, Mom. Clarke, let’s get changed, shall we?” the smaller woman nodded,
“Mother, there are magazines and newspapers under the coffee table. We’ll be just a moment,”

She guided Clarke out of the living room and into the bedroom with ease, and Clarke shut the door
firmly behind them. She gave a significant look to Lexa, who only grimaced and bit her lip.

Clarke drew herself up, and walked toward the bathroom, vomiting. Lexa’s face collapsed in guilt
and exasperation. Wordlessly, she began to raid the closet for suitable outfits while Clarke cleaned
herself. She selected black pants and heels for Clarke, a brown cashmere sweater to hide any sort of
curve on her stomach her mother might sniff out.

For herself, she put her hair in a low bun, tight grey pants and a feminine red suit-style jacket. Clarke
emerged, fresh make up in place and started to dress.

“I have no idea what’s about to happen, Clarke, but I am so incredibly sorry,” Lexa muttered, trying
to decide if she should wear a skinny tie or not. Clarke smiled, putting her heels on and crossing to
the agitated woman.

“You wear that, and you’ll wind up looking a little butch,” she said lightly. It worked.

Lexa smiled weakly, rolling her eyes, “My mother likes it when I dress masculinely, and my
mom likes it when I show a little femininity. Finding the razor’s edge of both is like finding a needle
in a the world’s largest haystack,” she paused, “But with testosterone and dick,”

Clarke snorted, taking the tie away. She tossed it on the bed and put her arms around Lexa’s neck.

“Lexa, it’s going to be fine,” she soothed, “It may be awkward, and uncomfortable, and I’m
probably going to send you emergency signals to helicopter evacuate me from the table, but it’s
going to be fine,”

Lexa was laughing, and she settled her arms back around Clarke’s waist. She breathed deeply,
looking into those glittering blue eyes steadily.

“So I suppose this means we won’t get to try JJ’s take out?”

Clarke wrinkled her nose, “JJ’s isn’t good in the restaurant, Lexa. It’ll be even worse here. If that’s
what you were going to feed your daughter and baby Mama tonight, I’m going to go out there and
thank your parents,”

Lexa giggled and leaned down, sliding her nose along Clarke’s, “Thank you,” she whispered,
bringing their lips together. They kissed slowly. For comfort, for security, for sanity. Clarke hummed
as Lexa coaxed Clarke’s tongue into her mouth and gently sucked on the wet muscle. She
luxuriously nipped Lexa’s full bottom lip, immediately soothing it and letting the taller woman swipe
contentedly into her mouth. Lexa’s hands found their way further and further down, and Clarke
broke away from Lexa, laughing and slapping the woman’s shoulder for her attention span.

Lexa apologized, smiling, laying another kiss to the laughing lips. Soon, the smile had disappeared,
lost once more in the intoxicating-

“Lexa, your mother is-“

“Mother!”

The two women jumped apart from each other like teenagers caught with their hands below the
sheets. Declan raised an eyebrow.

“Lexa, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m kissing my fiancée in the privacy of our bedroom! Please leave!”

For whatever reason, her mother frowned, but obliged. Lexa collapsed into a seat on the bed,
burying her face in her hands, a frustrated noise escaping her throat.

“How is this possible?” she moaned, “I’m a 35 year old woman with a child on the way, and my
parents still make me feel like I got caught sneaking Zoe Monroe out of my room,”

Clarke smiled quietly and took one of the woman’s hands, leading her to the door. She paused,
turning to frown at Lexa.

“You slept with Zoe Monroe?”

Lexa raised an eyebrow, “Yes,”

“I did too,”

Lexa smirked, “Well she always did have excellent tastes in women,”

“I’ll say,” Clarke laughed, “When?”

The woman’s eye twinkled narcissistically, “I took her virginity in High School,”

Clarke’s jaw dropped, then her mouth curled, “Oh, you have so much explaining to do,
Commander. But for now, we have a horrible dinner to get though,”

“Right,” Lexa soldiered.

And Clarke was right. It was a horrible dinner. Starting with the fact that ‘some fabulous restaurant’
was actually Clarke’s Ambassador's. Lexa’s mother insisted that it had to have been some other
restaurant she was thinking of, even while tucking in to an entrée Clarke had carefully hand-
designed.

The blonde haired woman’s dinner fluctuated between being totally ignored or put under the gun,
and it left her to glare at Lexa, who was usually found asking a passing waiter to refill her wine glass.
When asked about her non-alcoholic choices, Clarke flinched as Lexa practically threw her
Mercedes' keys at her and declared her the designated driver.

When the family had found their way once more back into the spacious apartment, Lexa spent two
full hours getting her parents settled in the guest bedroom. Clarke wondered if she should fill the time
in a more comfortable manner, like beating her head against the wall.

Finally, at 11 at night, Lexa found herself stripping her clothes off and crawling into bed next to
Clarke. They lay in shell-shocked silence for moments, staring at the ceiling until Lexa shut her eyes
and spoke.

“Mom wants to see your ring tomorrow,” she said hollowly.

“What?!” Clarke turned to Lexa’s profile in alarm.

“I tried everything. But she said she’s going to stay here until it’s ready. She insists,” her voice was
light and mocking.

Clarke groaned, “What do we do?”

“Well, I am going to take tomorrow off and go get you one,” she said, her tone a pleasant buzz of
unaffected. Clarke sighed deeply.

“Right,” she said, “I want to come with you,”

Lexa hummed, “Can you do that?” She rolled to her side to look at Clarke, and the woman faced
her.

“I’ve been trying to train a couple of the managers to run the restaurant,” she said, her voice the slow,
relaxing wind down of an incredibly stressful day, “Octavia and I decided we’d start prepping for
maternity leave now, before all hell breaks loose,”

Lexa laughed, “That’s a wonderful idea. Can they handle it? I’m assuming you picked Brittany and
Santana?”

Clarke hummed, shifting closer to Lexa’s warmth, and the taller woman wrapped her arm around
Clarke’s waist, “Mhm, we decided to each pick a manager,” she laughed, “sort of like our little
protégés,”

“And you picked Brittany?”

“Yeah, how’d you guess?”

Lexa laughed, “You both are such silly, brilliant women. And Brittany balances Santana out,”
Clarke hummed, laying a kiss to Lexa’s collar on a whim, “Do you think they could someday run the
restaurant, and you could open another location?”

Clarke smiled, “I think it’s a little early, but maybe. It’s definitely an idea,” she kissed a little further
up Lexa’s neck, “I’ll run it by Octavia sometime,” Lexa turned to meet Clarke’s wandering lips and
they kissed for a few languid moments.

“Lexa, your mother,” Clarke started, processing her words before she spoke them.

“My mother?”
“Your mother's a dick,” The smaller woman sighed. Lexa snorted attractively, and Clarke smiled, but
defended herself, “It’s true! After explaining my profession, and how I built a restaurant she denies
loving, kept calling me a ‘cook’. Do you have any idea how degrading that is?” she seethed.

Lexa huffed a laugh and rolled to prop herself above Clarke, pinning her with an affectionate look,
“My mother is a very insecure woman. All of their money comes from my mom, and Mother likes to
project. It has nothing to do with you. In fact, I think they like you,” she smiled prettily.

Clarke raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “I could tell by the way your mother asked me if I was ‘used
to being wealthy yet’? What the hell kind of question is that?”

Lexa laughed, kissing her jawline, “She just wants to make sure you’re not a gold digger.
Mother had to go through the same thing from my grandparents, I’m told,”

“Oh good. I’m glad she asked then. I should have answered truthfully. I am, actually. And don’t talk
about your parents' youth. It gives me the creeps to think they actually had sex,”

Lexa settled her weight on her forearms, kissing Clarke’s neck interestedly. The woman tilted her
head to allow the lip movements as she spoke.

“Wait, you don’t think they still do it, do you?”

Lexa broke off, “Clarke, are you asking me if my parents are having sex, in my guest bedroom,
under my roof?”

Clarke thought for a moment before flattening out, “Yes,”

“Probably,”

“What?!” Clarke whisper-yelped, and Lexa’s eyes flickered playfully.

“Well why not? We’re about to,”

“Oh, is that right?” Clarke drawled, winding her fingers through Lexa’s hair, smiling, “News to me,”

Lexa only smiled, her dick long since bulging her underwear, “Please?” she asked sweetly, trailing
kisses everywhere she could reach.

“Lexa,” Clarke admonished lightly, “We both have work to pretend to go to in the morning,”

Lexa laughed and leaned to kiss the blone-haired woman deeply, rubbing her groin over Clarke’s.
The room heated, and Clarke soon ensured they were both completely naked.

“Lexa,” she panted, “Can we do it in the bathroom?”

The brunette woman looked at her like she had suggested they have sex on the roof.

“What?”

“I’m serious. I’m afraid your mother is going to catch us again,”

“Clarke, please tell me you’re joking,” Lexa pleaded, gesturing towards her straining erection.

“I’m not. Bathroom or nothing,”

Before Lexa could seriously consider ‘nothing’, her lengthly member decided to be the head she
chose with. With a hushed groan, she got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, her erection
slapping her in the stomach with every step.

“Okay,” Clarke breathed, shutting the door to the spacious bathroom. She turned to an unamused
Lexa, and smiled. Lexa found herself annoyed and turned on, and she kissed Clarke as a reward for
eliciting the confusing emotion. Some wonderful hands wandered on both sides, and Clarke found
herself seated on the sink, Lexa kneeling between her thighs, mouth occupied. The brunette was
clearly enjoying herself, and Clarke couldn’t pretend Lexa wasn’t amazing at this.

She came slowly with a spine-rattling shiver. Lexa stood, and Clarke reaching to clean Lexa’s mouth
and chin with her own lips and tongue. The taller woman stepped to fit her hips between Clarke’s
spread thighs, and aligned her hardness with Clarke’s soaked slit. Sliding inside the smaller woman
was amazing, every time.

Clarke instantly clutched Lexa to her, her arms locking around the woman’s neck, who was bracing
against the sink. Clarke’s restrained moan echoed in Lexa’s ear,

“Harder,” the woman requested, and Lexa obliged, her thrusts turning to ruts at she punctuated
instead of rolled her hips. The women held on for dear life as they groaned and sweated against each
other, pressing increasingly sloppy kisses to chests and shoulders.

“Lexa,” Clarke husked, “I’m,” she broke off, her breath stolen.

Lexa nodded, the crushing heat of Clarke so wonderful and wet, “Me too,”

"Clarke, I gotta pull out,"

A heavy blue-eyed glare shot up to Lexa's teasing green eyes, "Shut the fuck up," Clarke seethed,
her nails pressing indents into Lexa's back. The standing woman laughed shortly before watching her
dick disappear inside Clarke and moaning.

Clarke’s orgasm rolled up her body, her legs locking around Lexa, while the taller woman felt
Clarke’s insides coil and clamp down on her dick. She arched and pushed for two more deep,
necessary thrusts before spilling her seed inside the woman.

They collected their breath and continued to kiss easily, gratefully and quietly, Clarke’s fingers
carding through Lexa’s chesnut curls. The taller woman wrapped her hands under Clarke and pulled,
carrying the slight woman back into bed.

Clarke curled into Lexa’s arms, content. A familiar strangeness bubbled in her stomach, and it
echoed in the heart, trying to escape through her vocal chords. But she felt Lexa relax as she slipped
into sleep, and Clarke smiled, intent on following the woman.

“Mhm, I think this one should do nicely,” Lexa was smiling brightly, and Clarke raised her
eyebrows.

“Lexa, that ring is 65 hundred dollars,” she said, her voice smoking and startled. They had been in
and out of jewelers all day, and Lexa had done little but politely observe diamond after diamond.
Clarke had started to think the brunette didn’t care enough to provide her input, but when Clarke had
expressed her interest in a princess-cut white gold band, Lexa had interjected politely, thanking the
salesman for his time.
When Clarke finally asked her about it, Lexa had gained a complicated look in her eyes, attempting a
smile. She brushed it off and settled for saying, “I’m going to buy you only what I think you should
have,”

Clarke wasn’t quite sure how to interpret that, but her heart softened considerably, and she let Lexa
take the reigns. She simply followed the woman, casting an admiring eye over the glittering jewelry,
deflecting the too-helpful salespeople.

But Lexa had stopped and stared at a ring, and the blonde knew it was perfect. It was a large, round-
cut diamond, with a band of plain platinum, save for each side of the centerpiece forking to hold a
rectangle cut diamond.

It was incredibly impressive, and still tasteful enough for Clarke to think it was beautiful without
being too much. It would cost a small fortune, but she didn’t mind. She had that much in at least one
of her accounts ready-to-access.

“Your ring size is what, 6? 6 ½?” Lexa asked accommodatingly, and Clarke frowned lightly.

“Lexa, this is too much,”

The beautiful green eyes pouted at her, and Clarke rolled her eyes, knowing Lexa was going to do
what Lexa wanted to do, and the tall brunette smiled victoriously.

“I’m a 6, I think,” Clarke sighed. She relaxed as Lexa’s hand unconsciously went to the small of her
back, and the taller woman caught the attention of a well-dressed worker.

“Yes, hello, good morning,” she eased, and the sales rep brightened, her eyes shimmering.

“Good morning ma’am, is there something I can show you?”

“Why, yes, I was wondering what size that ring there is?” Her well cared-for nail tapped the flawless
glass, pointing. Her great, green eyes were sparkling in excitement, and she vented her shaking
happiness by pressing Clarke’s back a small amount. Next to her, the woman gave a dry, humoring
laugh.

The saleswoman smiled and began unlocking the case, “All the floor bands are a 6. For other sizes,
we have to have it hand-crafted for you. The diamonds and sets are all the highest carat for
showmanship,” she explained, “This one here, totaling the centerpiece and set, is 2.75 carats,”

“Wonderful,” Lexa felt her heart pick up as the ring was set on a black velvet sheet. She reached
careful slim fingers out, and simultaneously picked up Clarke’s left hand. Without a word, Clarke
allowed Lexa to place the artful ring on her finger, the cold slide of metal combined with the stormy
look in those viridian eyes sending a shiver down her neck.

When the weight had settled, and the platinum grew warm, Lexa smiled lightly, “Perfect,” she
whispered. Another moment passed where Clarke felt a flicker of a smile cross her face. Lexa finally
dropped her hand and turned to the saleswoman, who seemed to carry a faint blush over her cheeks.

“I’d like to purchase this one,” she glided, her voice a warm, honey drenched hum, “Do you take
Mastercard?”

“Oh, I’m so glad we stayed, Lexa! It’s beautiful,” Alexandrine exclaimed, and Clarke gave a weak
smile. The woman had her hand in a vice-like grip, and she was being circled like a vulture by
Declan.

“Thank you, Mom,” Lexa smoothed out.

“Well done,” her mother supplied tonelessly, finally stopping her shark-like movements to pat Lexa
on the back.

“Thank you, Mother,” the woman replied before faux-casually moving on, “So, do you have your
things together?”

“Of course, dear,” her mom said, “Thank you for such a wonderful time,”

Clarke felt her teeth ache from the smile she was forcing. The woman was just sickly sweet, the
sugary grain of her actions irritating her skin and ears. But she nodded, shaking hands once more
with Lexa’s mother and guiding the pair to the door.

“It was lovely,” the woman continued, “I had such a marvelous time, didn’t you, Declan? Your
mother did too. And we’ll be in the area for the next week, Lexa, so don’t be surprised if we pop by
to say hello,” she smiled largely, and left the apartment.

Lexa’s mouth barely refrained from dropping to smile as her mother followed her mom out, and shut
the door behind her. The place was silent.

“Clarke,” Lexa finally managed, “Would you mind if I got myself a drink?”

“Not at all. Have one for me too,” the woman replied, collapsing onto the couch with a relieved sigh.
She listened to Lexa pour herself a scotch before asking at large, “Why did that last part sound
threatening?”

“Most likely because it was a threat,” Lexa sighed, fitting herself behind Clarke on the couch.

“So we just stay on DEFCON 5 for a week?”

“I forgot to tell you, I have to leave to Baltimore for a branch inspection,” Lexa winced, “So more
accurately, you will have to be on red alert,”

Clarke groaned and rolled to bury her face in Lexa’s cleavage, and the drinking woman laughed. As
the pair settled into the stillness, they each found the pleasant peace that being together brought them.

Lexa smiled, caressing Clarke’s back happily, her mind buzzing.

Clarke was worried. No, she was more anxious than anything. Most accurately, she was restlessly
afraid. People, as it were, are generally afraid of the unknown. And she was rapidly concerning
herself with making her uncertainties known.

She was currently standing in an elevator at the downtown office of Ark12. The lights above her
changed as the tiny room rose, and she used her thumb, middle, and pinky fingers to worry the ring
she wore. It was a nervous habit she had immediately taken to doing. For a week.

“It suits you,” Lexa had said at the airport, walking away with a soothing smile, “You should wear
it,”

And then she was gone, leaving to visit the Baltimore branch of Ark12. Clarke could have boxed her
in the ear. What in the hell did that mean? Did Lexa really mean it? Did she want to marry her?
Clarke didn’t know. What if Lexa did? All she knew was that lying awake in Lexa’s apartment, she
could shut her eyes and picture Lexa’s face gazing down at her. She knew she would have said yes.
If Lexa had asked her to marry her, she would have said yes.

But that was a week ago, and Clarke had woken up last night to feel Lexa crawl into bed behind her
and promptly fall asleep. She had gone to sleep smiling, the warmth against her back soft and
wonderful. Then, when she had woken up, Lexa had already gone to work.

The ninth floor pinged, and she stepped out of the elevator, tracing the familiar route to Lexa’s corner
office. She found the appropriate door and pulled it open, entering the foyer office. Harper's desk and
a few chairs made up the smallish room that led the way through Lexa’s office door, right behind the
assistant’s desk.

Clarke frowned. Harper wasn’t at her desk. Clarke checked the time. It wasn’t the lunch hour; she
definitely should be here. She pressed down on the handle of Lexa’s door and found it locked.
Something settled in the depth of her stomach heavily.

She knocked on the door, calling, “Lexa? It’s Clarke,”

No answer. The woman was decidedly confused. Lexa never locked her door. She tried again, and
frowned. Maybe she was at a showing, she decided, dropping her hand and stepping away.

She pursed her lips and turned around. As she passed Harper's desk, the door opened and shut
hastily, Harper stepping through. Clarke raised an eyebrow, her keen blue eyes swift and calculating.
An insidious sort of dread clawed at her stomach as she observed the normally perfectly arranged
PA.

Her blouse had obviously been put back on in a hurry; it was wrinkled and she had missed a button,
only one of the tails fully tucked into her skirt, which was also heavily creased. Harper's professional
bun had several locks loose, and her breathing was elevated.

Clarke swallowed the lumped that had formed in her throat.

“Is Lexa in?” she tried, her voice a fine sand.

Harper cleared her throat tensely, looking everywhere but at Clarke, “M-Ms. Woods is currently
unavailable,” she said, her tone curt and shaking.

Clarke felt her heart split in two. This couldn’t be real. But she nodded anyway, controlled in every
movement.

“Right,” she responded, turning to exit. Her body moved automatically, and her hand drifted to her
stomach. Harper undoubtedly had just been having sex. And there was only one person who was
ever behind that door.

“Excuse me!” Clarke was snapped out of her whirling pool of misery when she heard the cry, and
she turned to see Harper chasing her with a small brown envelope, “Uh, Ms. Griffin, Ms.
Woods wanted me to uh, remind you that the company dinner party was tonight. Here are all the
details,”

“Oh,” Clarke said numbly, “Okay,” she accepted the parcel and turned away from the woman,
unable to even look her in the eye. That woman had been with Lexa. Lexa. Her Lexa. She had
walked this carpet five minutes ago thinking about how she would marry her Lexa.

Her mind rifled through the smiling face of the brunette, teasing her, kissing her. Lexa stroking
through her hair and listening attentively. Lexa scooping her into her arms to haul to the bedroom,
laughing madly. Her sweeter than honey kisses as she slipped inside… No, she couldn’t think of
that. Actually thinking about that would make her cry, and she knew it.

Clarke entered the elevator, and opened the thin envelope numbly. The thick paper slid into her hand
and she vaguely recalled Lexa telling her about the party, and her nonchalance at confirming her plus
one attendance. Clarke's heart was so still in her chest. But she had no proof that Lexa, what- cheated
on her? It was impossible to cheat, Clarke thought crushingly, when you weren't even together.

She tried to breathe, determined not to fall apart in an elevator.

At 11 weeks, Clarke was painfully aware she had officially entered into the 'visibly pregnant' zone.
Lexa had been thrilled, as she was with everything that Clarke found herself annoyed with. In her
haste to compensate Clarke for her overly-excited reaction, she had asked Clarke if she would be
allowed to buy maternity clothing with her. Clarke had laughed, and conceded.

As a result, Clarke found herself in low-wedges and a blouse that cinched below her breasts and
flowed over her bulging stomach. Black skinny jeans completed her outfit, and she convinced herself
people weren't staring. Of course, as soon as Lexa found her, every thought melted away except
those about her baby's mother and the state of her monogamy.

"Clarke," the executive smiled largely, the men standing with her looking startled to see the happy
expression on the woman's face. Their wives, however, only noticed Clarke's stomach.

"Oh, Lexa! Are you both expecting?" one wife exclaimed wolfishly, her eyes craving gossip.

Lexa seemed to want badly to kiss Clarke in greeting after a week of separation, but instead drew to
her full height and wrapped an arm around the blonde, "Yes," she said proudly, her lips curling
delightedly. The women positively swooned, while the men seemed to cheer and rock on their feet in
congratulations. Lexa went on to introduce Clarke to those all around, and the woman did her
absolute best to keep up with the conversations around her.

But her heart screamed.

'Do you love me? Do you sleep with other people? Tell me you love me for me.'

The more Lexa interacted, the stranger she grew to Clarke. Like the blonde was watching her for the
first time. She saw the way her movements glittered with grace, her self-confidence outlined in every
word. She was, by far, the most attractive woman Clarke had ever seen.

A sentiment apparently shared by many women in her office. And so, it happened to be that Clarke
needed to use the restroom and overheard a conversation that snuffed the small candle of hope in her
chest.

"Did you seen Ms. Woods' wife?" a girl in a stall said to her friends at the mirror, "She's beautiful!"

"Yeah, but she's definitely not her wife, Stace," a voice mocked, "It'd be damn shameful for Woods
to be married if you know what I mean," a chorus of giggles met the remark, and Clarke thought she
would be sick.

"But wasn't she pregnant? And she had a ring!" the girl asked again, pausing to flush the toilet and
exit. Over the taps, Clarke heard the reply.

"So? Doesn't mean I'm going to stop meeting up and giving Lexa everything I've got,"

The girls laughed.

"Lacie, you're such a slut,"

"I can't help it. You both know you'd trade for my place any day," the girl, Lacie, bragged.

Anything else was mute to Clarke's roaring ears. It left like every part of her body had gone numb.
Lexa. Half of her wanted to run out of the stall and come face to face with the woman Lexa was
fucking on the side. Just to see what she looked like. But the other half wanted to cocoon herself in
blankets and liquor until her heart forgot that Lexa didn't love her.

Until she could decide, Clarke new she had to leave. Her logical next steps were brought to the front
of her mind in an instinct to simply survive. Exit stall. Wash hands. Dry hands. Leave restroom. Find
Lexa? Harper is speaking to Clarke. Harper is saying Lexa had to leave to a meeting. Harper, who
Lexa is also fucking. Clarke watches the woman's lips, and bites her own. Her mind spins with too
many pornographic pictures of where Harper's lips may have been.

Did Harper find the spot on Lexa's stomach that brought her to crying fits of laughter when sucked?
Did Harper grin and bear it when Lexa kissed her directly after eating thai food? Did Harper nip
her ear lobe when Lexa purposefully fucked her too slowly? Did Harper ever swallow Lexa's cum
and taste the health of her diet? Did Lacie?

"Ms. Griffin?"

Clarke rocked on her heels, focusing on the nervous-looking woman.

"You can tell Ms. Woods I'm leaving," she said softly, turning and walking away. She fumbled with
her purse and pulled her phone out, dialing rapidly as she tasted pennies in the back of her throat.
The phone range twice and then,

"Hello?"

"O? I need your help. Do you still have Bell's truck?"

Lexa didn’t understand what she had done. It had been two weeks since she had seen or heard from
Clarke. She had come home from the office party and a grueling after-party meeting to find a
diamond ring on the counter and every indication that anyone had ever cohabitated with her, gone.
Disappeared into thin air. It took two weeks for her to figure it out. Two weeks for her normally
brilliant mind to tease out the straight to voicemail calls, the unresponsive knocks to her apartment,
the untouched diamond ring in her kitchen, before it clicked.

Clarke had left her.

Clarke had left her, and taken their baby with her. As well as every ounce of joy from Lexa’s life.
She had worked incessantly since the day, and today marked two weeks. Clarke didn’t want to stay
with her, didn’t want to marry her, didn’t love her, hell, didn’t even like her.

It was a pain Lexa felt the way one feels a burn; all at once in a violent flash, and then a seemingly
cruel, everlasting, crescendo. And as she stared at the innocuous diamond ring left on her countertop,
it was a pain that brought her to her knees. And it was a pain that left her feeling hollow as she let
tears slide down her temples as she lay on her guest bed, an empty 4th glass of scotch on the table.
She couldn't bear to remind herself of the perfume on Clarke's side of their bed.

Over the next week, she left her apartment simply because everywhere she looked, Clarke had given
her a beautiful, crushing memory to dwell on. She worked harder than she had in her entire life. Until
she couldn’t see straight and her fingers ached.

Harper was avoiding her, and she knew then that maybe she wasn’t keeping her act together
convincingly enough. It didn’t matter, though.

In some fit of madness, she hadn’t stopped work on the house. The house she had renovated,
basement to attic, for Clarke and the baby. Interior decorators were answered, marble suppliers were
chosen and next-day service was delivered. On a Friday, it was finished. The house was finished.
The house Lexa was going to ask Clarke to make their house.

But now it would sit, empty. Some part of her couldn’t bear to sell it, and another suggested she
leave the key for Clarke to have. She had dumped almost a million dollars into the house, and she
had no desire to even look at it.

‘Is it insane to want to lose the key?’

And so it left her to stare at two boxes. Each could fit in the palm of her hand. A velvet box, and a
flat box. Black. Nondescript. Bland. No one could know that the love of her life was embodied in
that squareish velvet box; closed and cut off from the brilliance inside. And the casual observer
would never imagine the rectangle to hold the key to her love for her supposed to be future family.

When she wasn’t thinking of Clarke, Lexa thought of their baby. She was moving in on three and a
half weeks without her family. Clarke had entered her second trimester without her.

And still, Lexa didn’t understand.

The blinking kitchen light read 3:34, and the motionless lump under the covers slept soundly.
Suddenly, Lexa’s eyes flew open at the ringing of her cellphone and she groaned, rolling over to
check the time. Noticing the hour, she groaned once more.

If this was another drunk call from Anya, her wrath would be sure and swift. She had a manager’s
meeting in the morning, and she had spent the afternoon at the bottom of a bottle of scotch. Octavia’s
smiling face grinned at her widely as and Lexa frowned deeply, answering the call immediately.

“Hello?” her voice graveled, thick with sleep.

“Lexa?!”

The woman sat bolt upright in bed, her eyes wide, sleep a forgotten thought, “Octavia? What’s
wrong?”
“Lexa! Quick, Clarke’s apartment caught fire, and the idiot -“

The brunette didn’t hear what was after that, she jumped out of bed and into jeans and a jacket. No
socks, just trainer, as she grabbed her keys and took the stairs two at a time to reach her car.

“-tried to make sure her neighbors were out before she left,”

“Octavia, I’m coming,” Lexa was panicking, but her tone was steady, and Octavia breathed,

“Thank God. Raven, the kids, and I are visiting her mother, Ontari's out west, and Abby isn’t
picking up. The apartment administration called me because I’m her emergency contact,”

“I’ll call you back when I get there,” Lexa told the woman, who reluctantly agreed, and hung up.
Her entire being was on high alert, her heart in her stomach, and she started to sweat in panic.

A fire? Clarke lived on the top of a four-story walk up. Heat rises. So does smoke. As Lexa neared
Clarke’s apartment complex her stomach clenched in dread. The smokestack plume was enormous,
and Lexa could see the flashing lights of emergency service vehicles already. Less than five minutes,
and two blown traffic lights later, her Mercedes screeched to a halt and she threw the door open, not
thinking to even shut it again in her frenzy.

“Clarke?” She shouted, her green eyes panicking over the scared faces of Clarke’s neighbors and
curious late night by-standers.

Please, God, be okay. Her throat was closing, and her heartbeat sent adrenaline to ever nerve of her
body. She shouldered past the standing people and searched the milling firemen for any sign. The
building was in ruins. The paint was peeling and scorched, with an entire side that was blackened
and ashy. Its entrance was completely burnt, and Lexa wanted to scream.

“Clarke?” She called, frantic.

“Whoa, lady,” a technician caught her attention, “You lookin’ for someone who lived here?”

“Yes!” she cried with desperation, “Her name is Clarke Griffin, apartment 405, she’s got blonde hair
and blue eyes,” she was edging hysterical, “She’s 15 weeks pregnant, and she probably caused you
the most trouble,”

The man scratched his head, “You said she’s pregnant?”

“Yes,” Lexa’s hands were clasped, in prayer or from begging, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was
that the man’s eyes lit up in recognition, and she nearly wept.

“Yeah, I think I know ‘er, come on over,” he gestured to the dividing tape between the emergency
service worker and pedestrians, and Lexa quickly ducked it, her heart jackhammering. He led her to
one of a couple of ambulances, and she rounded it, desperate to see the back.

Clarke sat on the step into the truck, a little boy and his family sharing the space. Her hands and face
were lightly dusted with ash, and she was speaking quietly to the child.

“Clarke!” Lexa called, her heart beating erratically in her relief. She called to the soot-covered
woman, and Clarke instantly jerked, identifying the beautiful tones. Lexa looked terrible, panic and
terror written all over her face, and Clarke felt her heart jump at the sight of the gorgeous brunette.
She was so happy to see her.

Lexa immediately went to the woman who had stood, and opened her arms. Clarke instantly met the
beautiful woman halfway and embraced her fiercely. And Lexa didn’t care if Clarke hated her. She
hugged her hard, and only released to place desperate, grateful kisses to Clarke’s hair, neck,
shoulder, and cheek.

Lexa ran her hands over every curve and line on the woman, making sure nothing was harmed,
repeatedly asking if she was okay, speaking quickly about Octavia and something about traffic. In
the next moment, she was kneeling to lay her hands and lips on Clarke’s stomach, almost
whimpering. Clarke’s womb was much larger. Their daughter had grown so much, and she had
missed it.

“How are you, sweet pea? Hm? Are you alright?” She set her hands on either side of her baby, “It’s
okay. It’s okay now. Mama's here, and Mommy’s fine. God, I missed you,” she whispered, leaning
her forehead against Clarke’s distended stomach, and feeling the woman thread her hands through
Lexa’s hair comfortingly. She breathed deeply, standing and wrapping her arms around the smaller
woman protectively.

“Lexa,” Clarke cooed, “It’s fine. We’re fine,” she ran her hands across Lexa’s shoulders and lightly
scratched between her shoulder blades, speaking into Lexa’s neck. She couldn’t imagine how
frightened she would have been if the situation were reversed, so she allowed herself to sink back
into the roles they used to have. The taller woman leaned backwards, her relief tangible in her
softening hold on Clarke.

“I’m not hurt, and neither is the baby, Lexa,” she arched to make stunning green eye contact with the
woman and raised her eyebrows, persuading, “Calm down,”

Lexa sighed, laying another kiss to Clarke’s forehead, wishing she could kiss her lips.

“Right,” she breathed, holding Clarke around the waist with one arm and smoothing a hand over
Clarke’s belly with the other. It felt so good to hold Clarke, and she was selfish enough to stay in the
position. Clarke merely held her back, listening to the uneven pounding of Lexa’s strong heart start
to steady.

“Will you stay with me?” Lexa asked eventually, and Clarke only nodded. Lexa felt the motion and
detached herself, her hand lingering over Clarke’s belly, a desperate love flickering in her eyes.

Thankfully, her car was where she had left it, and Clarke had a private laugh over Lexa’s panic. The
ride home was quiet, and Clarke couldn’t help but run her eyes over Lexa. The brunette really did
look haggard. Unbraided hair, and she looked a little thinner.

When the pair arrived back at Lexa’s apartment, Clarke had swallowed a melancholic sigh. She had
been happiest here. Her throat hitched as she spotted a mostly empty bottle of scotch on the coffee
table sitting next to two oddly shaped boxes and – oh – a framed photo of her first sonogram.

“You know where the towels are,” Lexa said quietly, her fingers fiddling with her keys. Clarke bit
her lip and nodded, her middle, pinky, and thumb fingers fidgeting together. It was a ridiculous habit.
She’s been without the ring for longer than she had it, but the tic wouldn’t leave.

She left to the master bathroom, and she flexed her jaw. It was clear Lexa hadn’t occupied this space
in a long time. The bed was made with the sheets folded over the top of the duvet. Her memory ran a
playful argument she and Lexa had fought over one day through her mind; Lexa insisted the duvet
covered the entire bed, pillows and all, while Clarke was adamant the sheet folded down. To show
off the color scheme.

And there were the sheets, their silk against the top layer. She shook her head. Lexa’s apartment was
confusing her. Maybe she should have stayed at Octavia’s empty house.

Clarke felt herself sigh as the heated Jetstream of water hit her face and front. Her hair soaked and
she watched as soot ran from her body down the drain. She washed herself in Lexa, and her heart
filled with fizzing relief as the scent of the woman’s soaps left her feeling protected and clean.

When she was spotless, she stepped out and toweled off. She noticed some clothes set out on the
large bed and her chest gave a pained twang. Why was Lexa being so sweet? Because she was still
trying to care for her baby? No. Clarke knew that wasn’t it.

She was wide awake when she found the living room again the bottle, picture, and boxes were gone.
Lexa was seated on the ottoman, her posture taut as a wire. Her hands were clasped and Clarke
couldn’t see past the woman’s mahogany curls. Carefully, she sat adjacent to Lexa on the couch.

Lexa breathed deeply in the stillness, and her body burned. This might be her only chance. She had
to know. Had to at least try. She locked eyes with Clarke’s, and the woman was startled by the
intensity in the forest green stare.

“Why did you leave me?” Lexa asked, her voice thick in her grief. Clarke noted that she didn’t ask
why she left. Lexa had asked why she left her.

“You really want to do this now?” Clarke asked, her mental walls trying to build. To remember all
the reasons she did leave. But Lexa’s liquid green eyes only bore into her pleadingly and nodded.

“I don’t know if I’ll be brave enough to ask you in the morning,”

Clarke took a strong breath and shook her head, “I couldn’t live with someone like you, Lexa,” the
blonde said tightly.

Lexa felt her heart twist, “O-oh. And why not?”

“You know why,” was the icy reply.

“I don’t understand!” her misery was turning to confusion and frustration at Clarke’s unwillingness
to just answer her, “Didn’t I make you happy?”

For some reason, Clarke glared at her fiercely, “Of course you did! That’s why it hurt so much,”

Lexa blinked, frowning, “Why what hurt?”

“Stop acting so innocent!” Clarke’s voice ratcheted up. Lexa was playing the martyr and she was
almost out of patience.

“I don’t know what I did, Clarke!” Lexa cried, her throat stressed, “I’ve been sitting in my apartment
for almost a month staring at a ring! And driving myself crazy wondering about you and our
daughter!”

“How can you lie to me?” Clarke almost screamed, on her feet. Her frustration and heartbreak burst
out of her, and the bleeding lava of her love flowed out, hurtful and hot, “I heard about Lacie! And
everything that came with it. I trusted you! I shared every piece of my life with you. Lexa, I loved
you. And then you have your fucking mistress invite me to a party filled with women who want- and
do- fuck you?! And that’s honestly a nice touch, Lexa, screwing your secretary. I would never have
even suspected you to be so unoriginal,” Lexa sat, slack jawed and horrified as Clarke spoke.

“You made me think – I thought we were together! I know we’d never even talked about it, and
that’s my own stupid fault. But the way we – When we,” she was quickly losing steam, and her
chest only felt empty instead of better.

“And I had to come to your office party to find out that I was some tragic idiot,” she said, putting a
hand to her stomach and another to her face, dashing away an escaped tear, “It was a good job,
though, fucking Harper and I both in one afternoon. At least tell me you felt bad about it? I think you
owe me that,”

Lexa’s entire body had frozen. Then, she felt like water set to boil. Slowly, heat activated her limbs
and brain until she could function.

“Clarke,” she started, her voice clear and carrying. The smaller woman braced herself with a breath.
Lexa carefully moved with purpose, “Clarke, I never did any of those things,”

She said it with such conviction, Clarke actually felt her heart waver. But Lexa had glimpsed the
light at the end of a tunnel, and she was going to chase it, “I have not a damn clue as to what you’re
talking about. You think I slept with my assistant? My employees? After all the things I’ve done to
try to prove to you I’m worth your time? You think I’d throw away everything I’d been trying so
hard to build with you just to what – get my dick wet?”

Clarke felt her heart miss a beat at Lexa’s burning gaze.

“I wanted to build a family with you. I had a house made for us. I was going to ask you to marry me
and live in it. And you think I was fucking other people?” Suddenly, she felt a terrible, burning,
anger ball into her chest.

“You were afraid I was sleeping around, even when you never even asked me about it? I can’t
believe you’d think so little of me. This doesn’t make any sense!”

Clarke listened carefully, trepidation and the smallest drop of hope filtering throughout her body. Her
blue gaze sharpened.

“Lexa, where were you the day after you got back from Baltimore?”

The tall brunette halted, thinking, “I had a district meeting to go over the report I collected there of
course. It lasted all day,”

Clarke felt her stomach bottom out, “I came to your office that day,” she said slowly, and Lexa’s face
twisted her confusion, “And when I got there, Harper wasn’t at her desk, and your door was
locked,”

Lexa frowned, “Locked?”

Clarke nodded, “And when I turned to leave, Harper came out, freshly fucked and half undressed,
and told me you weren’t ‘available’. The next thing I know, she’s chasing me down the hall and
handing me an envelope with an invitation inside, saying it’s from you. I get there, and I hear a
bunch of girls in the bathroom talking about how we're not together even though you knocked me
up, and Lacie's 'giving you her all,"

Lexa’s lips were parted, and she stared hard back at Clarke, “Harper is… the only other person who
has a key to my office. Clarke, Lacie is an intern. I have to meet with all of them once a week to
mentor them. It's a 5 person meeting,"

The blonde-haired woman looked hopefully up to the confused green eyes, “You didn’t tell Harper
to do that?”
Lexa drew slightly closer, “No,”

Clarke took a step closer, entering Lexa’s personal space, “And you didn’t cheat on me?”

Lexa allowed a ghost of a smile to touch her lips, “Never,” she said simply.

“Okay,” the shorter woman breathed, and their lips came together.

Their first kiss in over a month was tender and sweet. Lexa tilted Clarke’s head to deepen it gently.
Affection, reassurance, and a firework of love simmered and flared in Lexa’s heart, with Clarke’s
doing a similar burning. The two separated, and Clarke turned her body slightly so Lexa could press
more fully into her.

“You realize I’m in love with you, right?” Her voice was a rasp, and Lexa laughed from where she
was pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Yes,” she said softly, bringing Clarke’s face back to hers, “I do. And do you realize that I want to
marry you? To make a family with you?” Her soft green eyes were incredibly serious, and she laid a
hand over the curve of Clarke’s 15-week stomach.

“Yes,” the smaller woman smiled. She inclined her head and kissed Lexa once more, their small
hums of satisfaction swallowed by the other. It had been much, much too long.

Clarke pulled her blonde head away and stared passionately into Lexa’s soft eyes, “Lexa, will you
make love to me?”

The brunette smiled, winking, “I thought you’d never ask,”

They kissed their way to the bed, their clothing removed in deft capability by a sure-handed Lexa.
The taller woman was already throbbing with need by the time Clarke’s soft white skin blended
gorgeously with the silk grey sheets. Lexa was pulled on top of the woman, and they kissed
unhurriedly yet passionately.

Lexa had so terribly missed this woman, and she told Clarke so in passes of her tongue and caresses
of her hands. She separated from Clarke and took a long look at her, allowing Clarke the same
luxury.

The woman palmed her love’s stomach in languorous circles.

“You are so beautiful,” she whispered seriously, and Clarke smiled, “Clarke, I can’t tell you how
much I love you,”

They kissed. Sometime undecided, Lexa shifted and Clarke parted her legs, waiting to feel Lexa
settle on top of her. The woman gave a low hum, kissing Clarke’s neck and sweeping her hair away.
Her erection was hot and straining, and Clarke was soaking wet, ready and aching to be filled.

Lexa rocked her hips after she had propped up on her hands, sliding her length through Clarke’s
heated folds as the other woman stared up at her lovingly.

“Lexa,” Clarke murmured, simply because she could.

And then Lexa found the soft spot on the woman’s lovely wetness and pushed inside. Oh, she was
tight. Clarke felt her pussy fill and she moaned. God, how she missed this. Being so connected to
Lexa. But now, it was even better.
Once her length was all the way inside, Lexa lowered to lay deep, loving kisses on the woman’s
mouth, and Clarke felt her insides throb around Lexa’s heavy shaft.

Lexa withdrew and pushed back in, and Clarke felt the breath drive out of her, her hands curling in
Lexa’s hair. She was embarrassingly close to orgasm, but she couldn’t find the will to care.

The slow, easy and wonderful pace Lexa set filled her heart, and Clarke felt a high cloud her head.
She came in a stifled moan of release, and Lexa marveled at how lovely the golden-headed woman
was.

They made love and curled together with whispers of love and gratitude on their lips. Plead
apologizes from both sides, and soothing forgiveness echoed in the cockles of their hearts.

When they fell asleep, the sun was well woken, and Clarke’s back was pressed against Lexa’s front,
an arm curled around her waist. Clarke’s relaxed hand rested over Lexa’s, a sparkling diamond ring
on her finger.

“What a fucking bitch,” Clarke growled in the car. Lexa’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“I’m inclined to agree with you,” she muttered darkly.

Lexa’s blonde-haired fiancée laughed.

“I don’t usually condone revenge, but in this case, I’m going to play the good wife and support you
100% percent,”

The brunette laughed and rolled her eyes, “Oh thank you, darling,”

“Mhm, and after you've fired Harper for having terrible decision making skills and being a spineless
slut who fucks people in your office, I might be persuaded into going down on you,”

Lexa seemed a little bit more than interested in that, “Really?”

Clarke nodded, checking her phone, “Sure,”

“How romantic. Could you not sound so much like it’s a favor?”

“It is a favor, though,”

Lexa laughed, “How about this, then? One minute of blow job, for one minute of backrub?”

Clarke frowned, putting her phone away, “I’m pregnant. My hormones are more important than
yours,”

“Two minutes of backrub?”

“Deal,” Clarke finalized, her eyes twinkling. Lexa laughed and kept driving. Clarke shifted and
rubbed her stomach contentedly, “Hm, Lex, I like this neighborhood,”

The woman smiled, “I do too. It’s private, but still with neighbors, though I did see this terribly
annoying family riding on a 3 person tandem bicycle,” she shuddered, “Promise me we’ll never be
that family,”
Clarke laughed, “Right, I’ll cancel our subscription to Better Homes and Gnomes then. Hopefully
those people aren’t our neighbors,”

Lexa turned into a moderately long driveway, the paving circling around a fountain in the front, and
she parked behind the large moving truck. The back was almost empty and she nodded, satisfied.

“Did you have it painted?” Clarke wondered, looking at the deep taupe color covering the large
front’s two incredibly tall stories.

“I did,” she replied, “I also had them put in the stone edging. It ups the market value significantly,”

Clarke sighed, and Lexa laughed, “Come on, I had the kitchen built for you,”

The blonde woman found a grin for that, and Lexa took her by the hand, leading her inside. It was
absolutely beautiful, and more homey than Clarke would have pictured. Her worst fear had been that
Lexa would make their home a carbon copy of the cold museum of her parent’s house, but this was
perfect. Hardwood floors stained dark, with a theme of rich, deep, cherry wood throughout. Neutral
tones prevailed, and everything from the oversized couches to the large fireplace said ‘warm’.

The kitchen was by far Clarke’s favorite room in the house, and she ran a hand over the black marble
countertops, admiring the flawless electric stovetop. Under the counters, Lexa had supplied her with
all the bells and whistles, every cooking machine imaginable ready to be used. The large island in the
middle could easily have held a full sized cow on it, and was home to a wine aerator among other
things.

Lexa stood in the open entryway, her arms folded as she watched her lover inspect the kitchen. She
was only slightly nervous.

“I figured you’d like to choose your own set of knives, as well as the China,” she explained
preemptively. She moved and sat at the kitchen table on the other side of the room, “And of course,
anything you don’t like can be redone, though it may take a few days,” she amended, “Do you like
it?”

Clarke sent her a cool glance.

“Lexa,” she started, “This is beautiful. I’m absolutely in love with it,” she smiled gently, “Thank
you,”

Lexa smiled delightedly, “You’re welcome, my love,”

Clarke continued to peruse her new workspace, and she tinkered with the stove and refrigerator. She
noticed the large, overhead vent stretched a little wide, and she experimentally lifted a section of
counter. It gave way and automatically pressed flush with the wall, revealing an honest to God grill.

She whirled to Lexa, who smirked. Clarke laughed and matched the expression. She crossed to lay a
grateful kiss to Lexa’s lips, and she grinned wickedly.

“I fucking love this kitchen, Lexa,” she breathed, “Now show me the bedroom, and I’m going to
pretend you gave me a 30 minute backrub,”

“Lexa,”
A sleepy groan.

“L-e-x-a,”

The brunette woman whined and rolled over, and Clarke bit her lip. She tried one more time and
reached to push gently at Lexa’s shoulder, “Lexa, honey,”

The woman roused herself from a dead sleep and groaned, “’ark,” she rumbled sleepily, moved to lie
on her back again, her eyes almost instantly closing.

“Lexa, I want red velvet cupcakes,” Clarke plead, her voice desperate. Her fiancée woke for the final
time with a scrunch of her face and a squint.

“What?”

“With wasabi,”

“You what?”

Clarke was sitting up, and she tugged at Lexa’s tshirt until the woman sat up with her, kissing her
sleep goodbye. She covered her mouth to yawn monumentally, frowning at the woman.

“I really, really want red velvet cupcakes and wasabi. Ooo, maybe for icing, oh that sounds
amazing,” Clarke was chanting, her eyes pleading.

“And you’re asking me to find this impossibly disgusting cupcake at,” she looked, “2 in the
morning?”

“No, only the ingredients!”

“You’re serious? You’ve been eating nothing but butterscotch and tacos for a month, and this is what
you want now?”

Clarke only turned innocent eyes on her and reached to her ballooned stomach. Lexa made a small
‘tch’ sound and yawned again.

“Alright, alright. I’m going,” she gingerly sigh and climbed out of bed. Exhaustion tried tugging her
back to the wonderfully soft mattress, but she persevered. Clarke grinned.

“You chose this,” she reminded Lexa lowly, admiring the wonderfully feminine curves of her
fiancée in jeans.

“Mm. You must have been at a very different lunch than me,” Lexa deadpanned.

“And you chose to say yes,” Clarke countered smugly.

Lexa shot her a raised droll eyebrow as she donned a jacket, “And what option did I have? A
beautiful woman bought me lunch and promised me lots of unprotected sex. I don’t call that a choice,
my love,”

“Don’t forget the wasabi,” the woman still lying in bed smirked, and Lexa smiled, leaning over the
bed for a kiss.

“I won’t,”

“I love you,” Clarke comforted, and the standing brunette rolled her eyes, walking to the door.
“You owe me a baby,” she threatened lightly, and Clarke’s laugh followed her through her trip.

“I might actually be in love with her,” Lexa sighed, bringing her glass to her lips.

Clarke shorted out a laugh, “Who knew that I spent months and months sleeping with you, living
with you, cooking your food and folding your clothes, only to now discover that all I had to really do
was color code your memos?”

Lexa shrugged, “I should have told you earlier, darling, I admit. How attached are you to that ring?”

“Oh this old thing?” Clarke raised an eyebrow, “Not particularly. I only have it to signify my
lifetime’s love and commitment to the most ridiculous woman I know,”

Lexa grinned, “Anyway, I can’t believe I went all this time without her. My entire week ran
smoother than I can ever remember it being,”

“Is she cute?”

Lexa laughed, “What?”

“Tris,” Clarke said, cutting another piece of her dinner, “Is she cute?”

Lexa raised an eyebrow, “I suppose. She’s almost the size of a child though. And she wears glasses,”

“Lexa, you wear glasses,” Clarke drawled, amused.

“I wear contacts. Not the point,” she smiled. Clarke tilted her head, about to reply when their
waitress came to refill their drinks. Lexa thanked the girl and she disappeared again.

“What about her?” Clarke asked interestedly. Lexa’s movements slowed somewhat, and Clarke
smothered a grin.

“I’m not sure what you’re asking, darling,”

“Do you think our waitress is cute?” Clarke inquired with a challenge in her eye.

“Well,” Lexa thought, trying desperately not to back herself into a corner, “She’s half my age,”

“Stop trying to make me feel old,” Clarke told her, “And she is not. Just tell me. Do you think she’s
cute?”

Lexa swallowed her filet with care, “She isn’t unattractive, no. Though I don’t think she’s my type,”

Clarke bit her lip to keep from laughing. Her fiancée was trying hopelessly to play it cool, and failing
in a spectacularly adorable fashion, “I see,” the blonde woman hummed.

Lexa relaxed. ‘I could be in the Matrix, with that bullet dodging.’

“What about my sister?”

She almost choked on her own air, and gave a great shudder not to show her surprise. Lexa glanced
at Clarke’s cool, calculating face, her blue eyes slightly narrowed in consideration. The brunette set
her silverware on her plate gently, sending her own stare back at the woman.
“Clarke,” she began, “I’m not sure why you’re all of a sudden so interested in my tastes, but I’ll try
to head off the trap you’re setting,” she glared lightly, and Clarke felt a corner of her lips twitch, “I’m
engaged, not blind. Yes, I can see other attractive features of females, but it doesn’t mean I’m
looking. Before you commence your questioning, I’d like to put it into the record that it doesn’t
matter what I think of them, you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,”

She paused, and Clarke’s eyes were softer than when she started. Lexa let herself smirk.

“That, and you’ve got a world class vagina,” she purred.

The blue-eyed woman laughed loudly, and twisted her head to ensure none of their pleasantly dining
neighbors had heard her lovely, crude, fiancée’s remark.

“Good answer,” she hummed, and Lexa cheerfully resumed her dinner. After their meal, the women
left and Lexa led Clarke by the hand to walk around in the chilly winter air and talk. They chatted
easily about their days and thoughts, and made each other laugh all the while.

Lexa’s cellphone went off and she answered it. Clarke raised her eyebrows at the audible shouting
from the speaker, and Lexa’s recoil at the volume.

“Yes, Mama, I’m sorry. No, she did not go into labor,” Clarke started to laugh and Lexa sent her a
glare, still on the phone, “Well, you’ll have to ask her where her phone is- No. Yes,” her eyes went a
little wider, “Of course I told her about lunch with Ontari and Roan tomorrow; she’s very excited,”

Clarke raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow and Lexa grimaced, listening.

“No, I’m not, she-“ Lexa’s voice failed and she took the phone from her ear, offering it to the now-
sulking woman next to her, “Clarke,” she said sweetly, “Your mother would like to speak to you,”

Clarke groaned and proceeded to verbally spar with Abigail Griffin for the next thirty minutes while
Lexa looked interestedly into the passing shop windows. When she had finally gotten herself rid of
her suffocatingly excited mother, she glared at Lexa.

“Why did you tell her I’d be there?”

“Because you will be, darling,” Lexa smiled.

“And if I didn’t want to go?”

“Then you’d find yourself in the same boat as Roan, Ontari, and myself,”

Clarke groaned, handing the phone back, “You know it’s just a ploy to pressure Ontari into getting
pregnant, and us into getting married sooner,”

“I’m fully aware,” Lexa said dryly.

“Maybe we should let our mothers meet, and they can cage-fight out when and how they want us to
live our lives,” Clarke offered. Lexa laughed.

“I think Abby would win, and we’d find ourselves being married in the closest open-late trailer park
she could find,”

“True,” Clarke hummed, “Which could be kind of fun?”

Lexa shot her a withering look, and Clarke gave a snickering sort of laugh.
“What? I’d rather save myself from the months of worrying over if the table we seat your parents at
will mind that the other 3 chairs are empty to make room for their egos,”

Lexa laughed loudly and sighed, “They’re not that bad,”

“Your mother called me fat,”

“Mother was only saying she thought you were bigger than she remembered you being,”

“Of course I’m bigger! I’m pregnant!”

“Mother doesn’t know that, honey,”

Clarke huffed.

Clarke groaned, her eyes opening blearily. She was falling asleep, and the almost-uncomfortable
weight of Lexa's head on her leg told her the woman was completely asleep. The blonde blinked
rapidly, frowning at the TV. She turned to her gently snuffling fiancée and poked her gently in the
shoulder.

"Lex?" she gruffed, and cleared her throat, "Lexa,"

The brunette shifted and rolled onto her back, her face burying into Clarke's pregnant stomach.

"Lexa, did you still want to mess around?"

Clarke watched, amused beyond words, as the green eyes opened and Lexa huffed, blinking.

"Yeah," she grunted, shoving herself upright, eyes closing once more.

Clarke nodded and heaved herself up, circling the coffee table to leave. She glanced at her future
wife with a smirk, "So I guess you just don't want to do it then, huh?"

"No!" Lexa nearly jumped from the couch, "No, I do!"

Clarke laughed, "Right. Okay, I'm going to get ready for bed,"

"Right," the brunette answered with a deep breath, "I'll fix the coffee for the morning,"

20 minutes later, Clarke finally switched off the bathroom light after her nightly moisturizing routine
on her stomach, to find Lexa passed out on their bed. She smiled slightly at Lexa's tshirt and boxers.
The blonde climbed in bed and shut the lamp off, settling in.

"Oh my God, you were just going to let me sleep?" Lexa's voice huffed in the dark. Clarke full-out
laughed.

"What, you still want to get it on?"

Lexa paused.

"Yes,"
"Well okay then," Clarke curled seductively, before blinking, "Shit! I forgot to call Dani!"

Lexa groaned as the blonde made to get out of bed, "Who the fuck is Dani?"

"Dani's my meat girl," Clarke replied absently.

Lexa grumped in bed, "Better not be getting your meat from some other girl... Ow!"

“Lexa. No,”

“But Clarke,” the woman whined. Yes, whined.

“No,”

“Fine, fine,” Lexa sighed, rolling onto her back, trying not to let her straining erection distract her.
But it was much too late for that. For whatever reason, the more pregnant her fiancée grew, the more
beautiful Lexa thought her. Carrying their baby, Lexa fell even deeper in love with Clarke every day.
This particular day, love had been on her mind for the majority of it.

She let out a very quiet exhalation and slipped a hand under the sheets.

“Lexa!”

“What?” She exploded, frustrated.

“What are you, 15?!” Clarke admonished, “If you really have to do that, do it in the bathroom or
something,”

“Darling, it’s been a week,” Lexa groaned, covering her eyes with a forearm, “I can’t believe it.
We’re not even married yet, and the sex has already stopped,”

“Lexa,” Clarke rolled and glared at her fiancée, “I am unbelievably horny right now,”

“Oh, really?” Lexa smiled in brilliant hopefulness, and the blue eyes glared at her even more fiercely.

“Yes,” the woman practically snapped, “But my breasts are ridiculously tender, and I could probably
scratch a mirror with my nipples, they’re so hard. My back aches, and my ankles feel swollen. In
addition to all of that, I refuse to be on top again, because I’m exhausted. My feet hurt, and I’m not
going to get up to let you behind me. My uterus is crushing me, and my vagina feels incredibly
shallow, so I doubt I could take you anyway,”

She pulled in a deep, long suffering breath, watching as Lexa’s dark-covered face seemed only to
look impressed.

“I’m over the moon that you still think I’m sexy enough to sleep with in my third trimester, baby, I
am. And I miss having regular sex, so don’t you dare compare us to the vanilla couples who have 2.5
kids and a minivan,” Somewhere in her passionate speech, she had crawled to Lexa, who propped
up on her elbow. Clarke reached to snatch the beautiful woman’s face in her palm, angling the rose
red lips up to her own.

“You and I are animals in bed. I just so happen to be a little handicapped at the moment, seeing as
there’s an entire fucking person inside of me. I’m horny, but the only thing in the world I want right
now is a full night of sleep without needing to pee, or cramping up like an Olympic sprinter. So no,
Lexa. Suffer a couple more nights along side me, or work it out in the bathroom,” Clarke huffed,
laying a frustrated kiss to Lexa’s smiling lips.

“Anything else?” Lexa asked lightly, turning and lifting the covers to allow Clarke to curve her back
into her. The woman grumbled, situating herself in an futile attempt to get comfortable.

“I want women to quit touching my stomach,” she complained darkly. Lexa wisely held her laugh in
when Clarke contradictorily pulled Lexa’s free arm over to rest on her stomach protectively.

“I’ll get right on that in the morning, darling,” Lexa hummed, kissing the light honeyed hair.

“Thanks,” Clarke shorted a laugh.

“I’ve never approved, you know. I think it’s a bit unfair,” the brunette mused, “So many people rub
your stomach and give you their congratulations, but not a single person has rubbed my penis and
told me ‘good job’. It just seems a bit one sided,”

Clarke was laughing before Lexa finished, and she twisted to invite Lexa in for a well-earned kiss.

“If someone is rubbing your dick who’s not me, be sure to let me know, okay?”

“You’ll be the first, my love,”

“What about her last name?” Lexa wondered absently, her hands cupping handfuls of warm water to
pour over Clarke’s enormous stomach. Privately, she thought the size description was accurate, but
she’d be sleeping alone until the baby came if she admitted it.

“You don’t think agreeing on her first name is more of a concern?” Clarke hummed, absolutely
loving Lexa’s attentions from behind her while she relaxed in the bath.

“Equally concerning, I think,” Lexa chuckled.

“I want her to be a Woods,” the at-ease woman eventually said.

“Really?”

Clarke smiled at the ecstatic nature of her fiancée’s tone behind her. Privately, she thought Lexa had
been ridiculous through the entire pregnancy, but she’d be sleeping with a very upset Lexa if she
admitted it.

“Of course,”

“We could name her after my mom?” Clarke suggested, massaging her back with one hand, a set of
tongs in the other. She felt like a house. A much, much, much too large house.

“While I’m sure Abby would be overjoyed by that, I don’t think it’s such a good idea,” Lexa
hummed, her focus on the myriad of papers before her at the kitchen’s bar.
“Why not?” Clarke asked, fixing the stovetop to where she could cross to Lexa in concentration.

“Because,” the working woman replied, heavily distracted, “I wouldn’t want the next ones to feel
they aren’t special enough to be named after family members,”

Clarke felt herself freeze and immediately thaw, a smile rolling across her face. Happiness warming
her spine, she moved to Lexa’s side.

“The next ones?” she prompted her voice low in Lexa’s ear.

Lexa gave a small start, finally giving all of her attention to her fiancée, “Well, if you wanted, I
suppose,”

Clarke hummed, taking Lexa’s reading glasses off and brining her face closer to her own, “You sure
you’re not just scared of the day I make you wear a condom?”

Lexa burst into a laugh and turned her body to pull Clarke into her. She laid a kiss to the
blonde haired woman and smirked, “It’s a valid concern, yes. But I always pictured more than just
one,” she clarified.

Clarke smiled, “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, but I think so too. Definitely more than
one. I’d be a lot different if I didn’t have Ontari,”

Lexa nodded, “And I’d always wanted a sibling as a kid. Besides, if there’s more than one, we won’t
have to be Lila's only playmates,”

“Oo, I like Lila a lot,”

“So do I,” Lexa smiled.

Raven couldn’t control herself. She laughed long and hard, and Clarke shot her a sweating, weary
glare. Lexa merely sighed from where she was seated, holding Clarke’s hand. Octavia seemed to be
trying to keep her act together, but her hysterical wife was making it difficult.

“You- you-,” Raven was choking, trying to speak and laugh, “You mean you came so hard, you
induced labor?” She dissolved in more laughter, and Octavia bit her lip, “God, I know it’s safe to
keep having sex till you deliver, but I didn’t think any one actually did it! Way to go, Lexa!”

Clarke glared murderously, “My daughter will be older than yours, you goddamn– ah, fuck! –“ She
tensed and breathed hard through her nose, a contraction wracking her body, “God, that’s painful,”
she hissed.

“Clarke, it’s not too late for drugs,” Lexa worried, and Clarke glared at her.

“My mother says Griffin women don’t need drugs,”

“Oh, you’ll definitely want drugs. Octavia, why don’t you ever orgasm me into delivery?” Raven
smirked, her hands resting on top of her ballooned stomach as Clarke suffered another contraction.

“Okay,” the doctor came in, smiling far too widely for Clarke’s tastes, a few nurses trailing her, “I
think you’re ready to start pushing, Ms. Griffin,”
“Are they all still there?” Clarke chuckled, her eyes still slightly unfocused as she rested against
Lexa. The brunette was holding their baby and playing with her tiny fingers gently, her thumb the
size of Lila's palm.

“Mhm,” Lexa hummed, “All ten of them. Oh, Clarke," she breathed, "Look what we made
together,”

Clarke smiled and sighed, rolling further into her fiancée, tangling her legs with Lexa’s under the
hospital bed’s thin covers. She reached a IV-bandaged hand to carefully pull down Lila's baby pink
soft cap, the downy fly-away blonde hair even more velvet against her fingers than the hat.

Lila woke from her sleep to wiggle, and Lexa felt her breath catch. Her still-shut eyes squeezed, and
her free fist waved at the air, other hand contracting around Lexa’s thumb. She gurgled gently, the
startling emerald of her eyes peeking through in a sliver before disappearing. Suddenly, the bundle
gave a muted sneeze, then instantly fell back asleep.

Clarke wiped away the string of snot with a baby towel, and they both quietly watched their perfect
little girl. Clarke set her hand on Lexa’s collar and rubbed softly in affection.

“We did a good job,” she said tenderly, and Lexa shared a sensitive smile with the tired blonde-
haired woman.

“Yes, we did. You did wonderfully, my love,” she quieted out, and Clarke continued to smooth over
Lexa’s chest.

“I don’t know how I could have done that without you, Lexa,” she admitted lightly, “It scares me to
think about trying to do that alone. And to remember that I planned to do it that way,” she trailed off.
Then smiled lovingly, “But you’re here, and it’s perfect. Thank you,”

Lexa laughed lightly, “Well, if I had known I’d be here at the time, I probably would have run the
other way,” she teased, “But now, you couldn’t have stopped me. I fell in love with you and with
our family, Clarke. I should be thanking you,”

Clarke only hummed and wrapped her arm around Lexa’s waist, settling more fully against the
woman. Together, they had created this beautiful thing; a beautiful relationship, a beautiful life, a
beautiful child. And Lexa couldn’t think of a single thing she would change.

‘Although…’

“Darling, you know you should start taking post-natal vitamins right away,”

“Lexa,”

“Right,”

I've been so in love with onemilliongoldstars' fic, I needed to make this happen out of pure
sexual frustration.

It's a fic I had already written for another pairing, but Clexa suits it so much better.
Hopefully, you liked it as much as I do.
With Love,

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