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insideabunker · 6 years

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The Games: Chapter 12

The dream was the same as always, darkness and the sound of glass shattering followed by silence and the terrible sting of the cold night air. The wind bit at her nose and cheeks and something pressed down on her shoulder, crushing her tiny body with its weight.

Lexa woke with a start, her senses slowly returning as she peered around the dark space. The shades were down, but sunlight slipped in through the cracks, casting eerie shadows across the room and illuminating the blurry figure hovering over her. She rubbed her eyes, her vision finally focusing on the frowning face of Raven Reyes, who knelt over the bed, clutching twin paper cups of dining hall coffee. She placed one of the cups on the bedside table and tilted her head toward the door of the room, which she disappeared through without a word.

Lexa untangled herself from the sheets, taking great care not to wake Clarke, who remained tucked into the brunette's chest, fast asleep. She groped in the semi-dark for her shoes, slipping them on as she grabbed the coffee and snuck out of the room. The door had barely closed behind her before Raven pounced.

"You're sleeping over now? Is there a U-Haul parked outside somewhere?"

Lexa gripped her coffee cup a little tighter, rattled by the girl's intensity and nowhere near awake enough to handle the third degree.

"What time is it?"

"Five AM, now answer my question."

"Clarke asked me to stay."

The corners of Raven's mouth rounded downward into a scowl, her eyes narrowing in disapproval. "Did you manage to convince Clarke to get her leg looked at?"

Lexa sipped the coffee guiltily, trying to buy enough time to come up with a good excuse.

"No."

Raven rolled her eyes, unimpressed with the answer. "Damn it, Woods, I was counting on you!"

"I'm sorry." Lexa fidgeted with her coffee cup, nervously wondering why she hadn't tried harder to talk sense into Clarke. Then again, she thought, why hadn't Raven if it was so important?

"What about you? You could have stayed and helped me instead of just disappearing."

Raven scowled. "I did not just disappear. I went to find our coach, who was off screaming to the IOC about that sad-ass excuse for a referee. Kane left right after the game ended; otherwise, he would have insisted on Clarke getting examined." She glanced at the door, lowering her voice. "Did you at least get a look at it?"

Lexa nodded.

"And?"

"Honestly?" The goalie shuffled in place, rubbing her neck nervously. "I mean, I'm not a doctor," she skirted the question, swallowing the guilt that welled up as she thought about the angry, purple bruising along Clarke's thigh. "She said that if it didn't feel better this morning, she'd have it checked out by your trainers."

Frustrated, Raven ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the roots as she clenched her jaw tightly. Lexa watched the muscles in her cheeks flex as she ground her teeth together, her irritation evident. After a few moments of tense silence, Lexa cleared her throat, attempting to change the subject.

"Look, I don't know Clarke that well but..."

"That's right." The statement seemed to call Raven back from whatever had been on her mind. Her attention snapped to Lexa, completely focused on the goalie's features as she stared her down. "You don't know her that well, but I do." She let out a sharp breath, sipping more of her coffee as she surveyed the hallways to make sure they were still alone.

"Woods, listen to me. I've known that girl since she was seventeen. Clarke is my best friend."

Raven ran a hand over her tired face, massaging the slightly purple bags that had formed under her dark eyes. "She's more than stubborn; she's downright unreasonable. Winning gold means everything to her. She's not going to let anything get in the way of that, even if it means risking a permanent injury."

Raven's face softened. "Do you know why it took Clarke more than a year to rehabilitate her knee?"

Lexa shook her head, waiting for the American goalie to illuminate her.

"It took her so long because she nearly re-injured it halfway through rehab. She was pushing too hard, and she put a micro tear in the cadaver ligament she'd received." Raven stared at her seriously. "Look, if you're going to be sticking around, you've got to understand how intense Clarke is. She doesn't know when to quit. She'll work herself into her grave if you let her."

Lexa's face fell, her guilt growing as she realized how little she'd done to convince Clarke to get her leg appropriately treated.

"So," the American goaltender stared at her Canadian counterpart skeptically. "Are you?"

Lexa looked up, confused by Raven's question. "Am I what?"

"Are you sticking around?"

Lexa bit her lip apprehensively, unsure how much she wanted to admit to Clarke's closest friend.

"I'd like to," she paused. "If she'll let me."

Raven bowed her head, staring at her toes thoughtfully. "Maybe she will," she looked up, her expression deadly serious. "But, if you care about her you'll help her make the right decision, especially when she refuses to make it for herself."

"Is it just me or is it cold in here?"

Clarke rolled her eyes at her father, smiling at his telltale smirk as he beamed down at her. Warm yellow light from the afternoon sun spilled through the windows of the old rink, making Jake's face glow.

"Very funny, Dad."

"I'm just saying." His eyes sparkle with mischief. "I remember this place being warmer when you were a kid."

He shoved his daughter with his elbow, smiling at her reverentially as he gave her the once-over. "How ya been, Kid?"

Clarke shrugged. "Tired."

"Of the game?"

"No," she shook her head. "That's the one thing I never get tired of."

Clarke sighed and leaned into her father's side, burrowing herself into the old, flannel lined corduroy jacket that he was never without. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of old spice, bay rum, and stale tobacco that always seemed to cling to him.

"Still smoking?"

"I'll quit when I'm dead."

"Not funny." She frowned, surprised to find that a lump was forming at the back of her throat. "I miss you," Clarke barely managed to eke out as she forced back the tears that threatened to spill over.

"I miss you too, Kid." Jake wrapped one of his strong arms around her shoulders and pulled her tighter to him, gazing back at the rink as the shotgun crack of a slap shot broke the silence of the arena.

They stared down at the ice, watching as the puck sailed into the outstretched glove of a goalie. Clarke watched at the goaltender curiously, recognizing the curly tendrils that peaked out from underneath her helmet.

"Who's the sieve?"

"I, um..." Clarke fumbled for a way to explain Lexa's odd appearance in her dreamscape. "Dad, what's she doing here?"

"You tell me, Kid." Jake smiled as he watched the masked figure discard the puck from her glove and crouch lower, readying herself for another shot. "Never knew you had a thing for goalies."

Clarke felt the blood rush to her face, the blush spreading all the way across her cheeks to the tip of her ears. "Dad!"

"What?" He flashed a grin at her. "You old man can't ask about your love life?"

Clarke blushed even harder, sure that by now, she had turned beet red. "It's just," she paused thinking of all the conversations they'd never been able to have. "I never got a chance to tell you..."

"That you're into brunettes?"

"Dad..." Clarke narrowed her eyes, imploring him to solemnity. "Please, be serious."

Jake's face softened as he pulled her closer. He stared down at her with a look the reflected nothing but pure, unconditional adoration. "Kid, why didn't you just tell me?"

"I hadn't really figured it out yet." Clarke sighed, burying herself farther into her father's side, thoroughly embarrassed.

Jake patted his daughter's shoulder reassuringly, thinking for a moment. "I always wondered why you never went through that boy-crazy phase your mother kept warning me was coming."

"I thought I was just focused," she shrugged. "Are you mad?"

There was a pause, and then to Clarke's surprise, a giant roar burst from Jake's lips. "Kid..." His sides shook as deep belly laughter doubled him over, making his eyes water. "My one dream in life was that I’d never lose you to some boy." He wiped tears from his eyes, taking a moment to let his chuckling subside. "I couldn't be happier."

It took a moment, but Jake finally managed regained his composure. He winked at his daughter. "So you like this girl?"

"I do," she nodded.

"Like, or like?" He emphasized the last word, cocking one eyebrow.

Clarke avoided his gaze, feeling suddenly awkward. She shuffled her feet nervously. "I haven't known her very long. I'm not sure yet.”

Jake's expression became wistful. "You know," he paused, pondering something for a moment. "I knew how I felt about your mother five seconds after I met her." He nudged his daughter in the ribs, playfully. "Some things, Clarke, you just know."

Clarke continued to stare at her shoes. "You should see her play; she's so good."

"As good as you?"

Clarke's shoulders slumped, her face falling at the question. "I'm not so sure about that these days."

"Hey..." She felt her father's fingers under her chin as he tiled her head up to look him in the eyes. "Don't ever say that."

Clarke tried to look away, but her father held her gaze. "I didn't teach you hockey because I loved the game. I taught you hockey because from the moment you first put on skates I couldn't keep you off the ice. You love to play, and you're great at it; the best."

Clarke finally looked up, acknowledging the honesty in her father's words. She reached out a hand, squeezing her bad knee as it began to ache. "I'm not sure how long I've got left, Dad."

Jake nodded, his face solemn. "None of us do, but you know what I always say."

"Find what you love and let it kill you." They spoke the words at the same time, both smiling at the well-worn expression.

"Can you stay for a bit?"

Jake sighed, his eyes turning glassy. "'Fraid not."

Clarke clenched her jaw tightly, refusing to let their last moment be a sad one. She burrowed back into her father's side, wrapping her arms around his wiry frame as his arms encircled her one last time.

"I love you, Kid."

"I love you too, Dad." Suddenly, the rink was dark. The pressure of her father's strong, sturdy arms disappeared, and all Clarke could feel was a rush of cold air. Then her eyes flickered, and she was awake, suddenly aware of a new set of arms wrapping themselves around her waist.

Lexa shifted behind her, pulling the blonde closer as she slid under the covers of the bed. Clarke stretched a bit, turning herself so that they were facing one another.

"Hey."

"Hey," Lexa smiled apprehensively, clumsily rubbing at the back of her neck. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"That's ok." Too tired to be concerned with the intimacy of the gesture, Clarke tucked herself closer into Lexa, leaning her head into the crook of the larger girl's arm. "Where did you go?" She closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of deodorant and soap.

The goalie kissed the top of Clarke's head and ran a hand through her disheveled locks, pushing stray blonde strands out of her face. It was a tender gesture that, ordinarily, would have made Clarke anxious. To the blonde's surprised, however, she found herself closing her eyes in contentment.

"That feels nice."

Lexa chuckled. "Speaking of how things feel," she cringed, knowing that her attempt at a smooth transition had been clumsy at best. "How's the leg?"

Cautiously, Clarke began to move her ailing limb. She stretched the leg, extending it nearly all the way before she winced at the tenderness. "Well, I can move it at least. She wiggled her toes, thankful to feel that she had full motion in all of them. "No numbness or tingling in my foot."

The Canadian bit her lip, nervous to inquire any further. "And the pain?"

Clarke attempted to bend the limb in the opposite direction, finding that it was much stiffer and more sore upon flexion. "Well, it doesn't feel great." She grimaced, "but, then again, it's felt worse."

"Can I take a look?" Lexa tensed, bracing for Clarke to become defensive. For a moment the smaller woman stiffened, but the tension in her small frame eased a second later, and Lexa felt her nod into her chest.

The brunette pushed her body upright, pulling back the covers just enough to expose Clarke's legs. Slowly, she pushed the leg of Clarke's sweatpants up, careful not to jostle her limb as she moved. Lexa recoiled at the sight of the angry purple bruising that seemed to have grown darker overnight.

"Clarke," she hesitated, not wanting to upset the fierce girl tucked into her side. "The bruising looks worse than it did last night."

Clarke nodded, surprisingly calm. "That's normal. She raised herself on her hands, chancing a glance at the leg. Clarke frowned, growling in frustration as observed that the damage had not magically disappeared. "That's just the blood losing oxygen as it raises to the surface of the injury."

"Wow," Lexa sounded genuinely impressed by her companion's savvy. "Check you out, Dr. Griffin."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right." She collapsed back against the pillows, groaning in discouragement.

"Clarke," Lexa hesitant, afraid to push the issue any further. "You said you'd have your trainer look at your leg if it was still bothering you today."

"I know but..." Clarke rolled closer, settling her weight against Lexa's body. "Can we just lay here for a while? Please?" She cuddled up against Lexa's side, sliding a hand underneath her t-shirt and trailing her fingers along sinew and rib.

Lexa shivered at Clarke's touch, her better judgment melting away as goosebumps formed along her skin. "Yeah, sure. We can lie here for a little longer."

Lexa shuffled down into the covers and slipped an arm over Clarke's waist, desperately trying not to grin like a fool. She knew she should feel guilty for giving in so easily, but something about Clarke's touch, something about the way she said "please," tore at Lexa's resolve.

"Do you want to go back to sleep?"

Clarke shook her head. "I'm not sure I can sleep right now." She continued to gently stroke Lexa's side with the blades of her fingers. "Can you talk to me for a while? Just until I fall back asleep?"

Lexa let her hand dip below Clark's sweatshirt. She ran a flat palm over her spine and began to rub slow circles over the tense muscles of her back. She felt almost giddy at the way Clarke' hummed into her chest, clearly enjoying herself.

"What do you want to talk about?"

Clarke breathed contentedly, thinking for a moment. "I was pretty awful to you last night. Why did you take care of me?"

Lexa considered how to answer the question, ultimately deciding that honestly was her best option. She allowed herself a moment to gather the right words, and when the moment was over, stated simply, "Because, you matter to me."

"We just met though," Clarke peered up at her, her fingers stilling as she stared up inquisitively. "How..." she hesitated, trying to understand how Lexa could be so sure about something in so little time. "I mean, why?"

Unable to articulate her answer, Lexa shrugged. "Some things you just know, I guess."

Clarke nearly froze at the brunette's words, the sound of them ringing in her ears as she remembered her dream. Determined that it must be a coincidence, Clarke relaxed again, burying her face back into the crook of Lexa's arm.

"Well, thank you for staying."

"Of course." Lexa leaned in, allowing her chin to rest on the top of the blonde's head. She closed her eyes and continued to rub soothing circles up and down Clarke's back. "What else do you want to talk about?"

Clarke thought for a moment, contemplating her options. "Tell me about where you grew up."

Lexa laughed. "It was called Rat Portage until 1905."

"Dare I ask why?" Clarke laughed softly into the worn fabric of Lexa's t-shirt.

"I'm sure you can guess. The goalie shifted her long frame, allowing Clarke to rest more of her weight on her.

"It's small, not as small as your hometown, but small enough. In the summer, it's full of tourists and mosquitoes. In the winter the only things to do are hole up in a bar and drink, or play hockey."

Lexa fought a grin, giggling to herself. "Actually, there was one other thing to do in the winter."

She pinched Clarke's side playfully and earned a finger jab in return. "Very funny," Clarke murmured. "I suppose that means you broke lots of hearts."

Lexa scoffed. "Hardly. There wasn't exactly a plethora of sapphically inclined girls at Beaver Brae Secondary School."

Clarke choked on a laugh. "That wasn't the name of your high school, was it?"

"It was, indeed. Our mascot, somewhat incredibly, was the Bronco."

"Wait," Clarke raised one eyebrow. "Your high school was named Beaver Brae, but your mascot was a horse?"

Lexa shrugged. "It's Canada. We try to avoid redundancy by not doubling down on beaver themed everything."

"Anyway," the brunette smirked, tracing the edge of the dimple that appeared in Clarke's cheek each time she smiled. "There were a few curious girls at a handful of parties, but I was hardly breaking anyone's heart. Most people didn't come out until after high school."

Clarke raised her eyebrows inquisitively. "Was it hard being out where you grew up?"

Lexa's brow furrowed in thought, her mouth puckering to side as she considered the question. "Maybe a little," she shrugged. "I mean, Canadians don't care that much about gay stuff. Mostly, Kenora was just small. There weren't that many of us. Not much point in being out if there isn't anyone to date." Lexa ran the tip of her finger over the helix of Clarke's ear, eliciting a soft moan from the blonde. "People knew though. Nobody gave me too hard a time."

Clarke continued to savor the feeling of Lexa's touch as the brunette's fingers moved from the top of her ear to the soft skin of her neck. She closed her eyes, relishing the way it made her spine tingle.

"What about you?"

Clarke's eyelids fluttered open. She stared at the olive-skinned girl whose fingers were now tracing the lines of her ribs. "What about me?"

"What were you like in high school?"

"Focused." Clarke rolled her eyes, thinking back to life in her tiny Minnesotan town. "I had a boyfriend for about six months during my sophomore year, but he took too much time away from hockey. "Plus," Clarke made a face remembering the hardships of making out when two sets of braces were involved. "He wasn't a very good kisser, so I ended things."

Lexa tried not to laugh. "Poor guy. He must have been devastated."

"Perhaps, but I'm sure Brock Larson managed to move on."

Lexa bit her lip, trying not to laugh. "You high school boyfriend's name was Brock?"

"Yes, it was." Clarke laughed at the memory fo her first boyfriend, a tall, skinny young man with sandy blonde hair who had been the object of every sixteen-year-old girl's affection. "My friends thought I was crazy to break up with him," she smiled. "He made boy's varsity as a freshman and was related to Dave Christian on his mother's side."

"Dave who?" Lexa cocked her head to the side, lost as to about who Clarke was talking.

"Dave Christian?" Clarke waited for Lexa to recognize the name. "The Lake Placid Olympics? Miracle on Ice? NHL player?"

Lexa shrugged.

"He is one of the eight Olympic hockey players who've come from my town."

"Damn!" Lexa's eyes went wide "Are you guys running a breeding program?"

"We have an algorithm," Clarke deadpanned. "Anyway, dad got sick right after I broke up with Brock. After he died, I kept to myself and concentrated on hockey. I had to focus on getting a scholarship. I didn't exactly have time for romance."

"So not much has changed?" Lexa grinned mischievously, squeezing Clarke's hip.

"Very funny." Clarke shifted her weight, settling into Lexa's chest. She laced her fingers into the brunette's hair and began running her hand through the mess of wavy curls. "I almost had a girlfriend in college, but it didn't work out."

Lexa savored the feeling of Clarke's fingers as they massaged her scalp. "Why not?"

"It's complicated." Clarke continued to work her fingers through the tangles in Lexa's hair. "People knew I was bisexual at college, but not at home. She wanted to date openly, and that was more than I could handle at the time."

"And now? "

Clarke sighed. "I think people back home suspect, but they've stopped asking. Besides, I've been so focused on the game for the last ten years that I've barely had time for myself, let alone anyone else."

"That sounds familiar." Lexa pulled Clarke closer. She enjoyed the feeling of the warm body pressed against her and thought of the many long nights she’d spent on the road, curled up in bed alone in a dingy hotel room. "It would be nice though."

"Hmm?" Clarke's hand stilled.

"To have someone." The goalie stroked the small of Clarke's back with the blade of her thumb, leaving goosebumps along her skin.

Clarke closed her eyes, imagining for a brief moment a life where obligations didn't bind her to team and county. "It would be," she smiled sadly, "but I owe too much to my team to lose focus right now."

Lexa nodded, trying not to feel disappointed at Clarke's response. "Well..." She leaned in, kissing the top of Clarke's head absentmindedly. "Maybe, one day, you and I will owe nothing more to our teams."

The blonde buried her face in the crook of Lexa's neck, inhaling the scent of her. "I hope so."

For a while longer they lay there, bodies enmeshed, minds close to sleep but never quite there. Finally, Clarke groaned, the ache in her leg getting the better of her. She pushed herself up on her elbows wincing as she pulled back the covers. "I think I better try to stretch this thing if I want to play on it again."

Lexa bolted upright at the statement, utterly confused. "I thought you said you were going to get it looked at?”

Clarke swung her legs over the far side of the bed, cautiously testing the amount of weight the injured limb could support. She stood up, wincing a little as she transferred a bit of her balance onto it. "I said I'd get it looked at if it didn’t feel better by today. It feels better."

"It looks worse."

"It always looks worse when it's healing,” Clarke said, brushing off the Canadian’s concern. She began hobbling towards the bathroom, and Lexa jumped up behind her, ready to catch her the moment the leg buckled. Remarkably the blonde managed to bear weight on it, limping into the bathroom on her own to retrieve the bottle of Motrin. She shuffled back towards the bed slowly and lowered herself onto the mattress with great effort.

"Lexa, it's a bad bruise. I'll be fine after some rest and ice. Besides, we don't have a game for two more days."

"Clarke..."

"Lexa, I'm fine." She swallowed several pills and scooted back on the bed, stretching the leg out in front of her as she reached for her toes. Carefully she bent forward, tensing her jaw as she began stretching the tender muscles.

"But..."

"I'm fine!" The words came out through clenched teeth, though Clarke managed to smile through the pain. "I promise."

Unsure of how to proceed, Lexa hung stiffly in front of the bed. She stared down awkwardly at the frustratingly determined captain, racking her brain for a solution. Thankfully, Clarke offered her one.

"Look, if you're that worried, we can meet up tonight. That way you can check on me."

"Meet up?"

"Yes, for drinks, maybe food,” Clarke smirked, as though Lexa had just missed the most obvious implication in the world.

"Food?" Lexa's eyebrows nearly shot up to the top of her head when she realized what Clarke was suggesting. "Like, in front of other people?'

"Unless you'd like to meet in secret." Clarke grimaced, continuing to stretch her stiff and bruised leg. "Or do you not want to meet at all?"

"No!" Lexa bit her lip, blushing at her outburst. "I mean, yes, I do. I'd like that."

Clarke rolled her eyes at the sudden ineptitude of the usually cocky girl, relishing the effect her invitation was having on her. "Ok, but let's meet off campus. " Clarke massaged her thigh, trying to work out the stiffness in the muscles. "Some of the girls went out into the city the other night. They said the Budnamu Brewery was great. Would 7 pm be alright?"

"I... Yeah, of course."

“Good, then it's a date."

"A date?"

"Yes, a date." Clarke deadpanned. "I mean, it's been a while, but I'm pretty sure the kids still call it that."

"It's a date," Lexa nodded dumbly, stunned that Clarke was asking her out, and in public no less.

"I should shower." Clarke struggled to her feet and cast a furtive glance at the bathroom door.

"You should shower." Lexa's head wagged up and down, too dumbfounded to pay much attention to what Clarke was saying.

"Lexa...?"

The goalie looked up, snapping back to reality. "Oh, Right!" She cleared her throat, trying not to turn red. "You shower. I should go." Lexa grabbed her sweatshirt from the chair in the corner, hurriedly pulling it on over her head as she mussed out her wild mane and shoved her feet into the boots that lay haphazardly by the bed.

"7 pm at Budnamu Brewery?

Clarke nodded.

"And you promise to get your leg look at if it starts bothering you?"

Clarke nodded.

“Ok. I’ll see you at seven."

Lexa turned to leave but was stopped by a small hand grabbing her elbow.

"Wait." Clarke bit her lip nervously, hesitating. Slowly, she leaned up on the tiptoes of her uninjured leg and pressed her lips to the corner of Lexa's mouth, delivering a soft kiss.

"Thank you for staying."

Lexa was in a daze as she drifted down the hallway and boarded the waiting elevator, nearly forgetting to press the button for the first floor. Clarke had asked her on a date. It felt almost too good to be true, and yet it had happened. Lexa had the text confirming the details on her phone. She could barely contain the smile on her face as she floated through the elevator doors and into the cavernous lobby of the dormitory. Nothing in the world could bring her down at the moment.

"Lexa Woods?”

Nothing, except for the sound of her name coming from the stern looking man in the dark grey suit. He approached her from the cafeteria, and out of the corner of her eye Lexa watched as Raven slipped away, apparently having just finished a conversation with him. The man held his hand out for her. "Marcus Kane. I'm the head coach of Team USA Women's hockey."

Lexa took his hand and shook it firmly. "Nice to meet you, Sir."

He smiled politely, his appearance losing some of its gruffness. "May I speak with you a moment?" He gestured to a small lounge just off the entrance to the main lobby.

Reluctantly, she agreed, following him to a suite of armchairs tucked in the back. The goalie took a seat across from him, trying to ignore the way her heart pounded in her ears as he watched her.

"So," he began earnestly. "I believe I owe you a debt of gratitude. I hear you cared for an injured player of mine last night, Clarke Griffin."

Lexa nodded apprehensively. “I did."

Kane looked solemn as he contemplated the young women across from him. "I understand that you two have been spending some time together. Am I correct in that understanding?"

Lexa nodded again, her pulse racing as she worried about the direction in which their conversation seemed to be headed. "That's correct, Sir."

He furrowed his brow, his expression grave. "Miss Woods, given your respective positions on opposing teams, you understand that the two of you spending time together could be construed as…” Kane searched carefully for the right word. “Inappropriate?”

“Yes.”

Kane purses his lips for a moment, analyzing her answer skeptically. Finally, his expression softened. "Luckily I considered Miss Griffin's integrity to be unimpeachable. However, should the two of you choose to continue to see each other socially, I would advise you to proceed with the utmost discretion.”

Lexa nodded vigorously. "I understand, Sir."

"Good then." Appearing satisfied, Kane patted the armrest absentmindedly. "In that case, Miss Woods, I only need to ask one more thing of you."

Lexa swallowed, dreading his next question.

"What's that, Sir?"

"I need to tell me whether or not my team Captain is hiding an injury from me."

Lexa's heart nearly jumped out of her chest. It sounded like a bass drum, thumping in her ears and drowning out the hum of the lobby around them.

"I... I don't."

"The truth, Miss Woods."

At that moment Lexa's conscience was entirely at war with itself. Lie, and she put Clarke at risk, or tell the truth and betray her trust. Neither one was an attractive option, and she shifted nervously in her seat, unwilling to choose either.

"Lexa..."

She sighed, resigning herself to the lesser of two evil. Surely, Clarke couldn't fault her for being concerned.

"She says it's fine but, it looks pretty bad. She can walk on it a little but.…” She bit her lip nervously. "I think she's probably fine," she back peddled, attempted to reassure him. “Maybe she should have a doctor look at it though, just to be safe."

Kane smiled at her, smoothing out the wrinkles in his pant legs as he rose. "Thank you for your honesty, Miss Woods."

With that, he started towards the elevators, leaving Lexa to dread her decision.

Next Chapter ->

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#The 100 #the 100 fanfiction #clexa #clexa fanfiction #clexa hockey #clexahockeyau #clexaolympichockeyau #clarke x lexa #clarke griffin #Lexa Woods

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vanessaspalmer · 4 years

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Clexa and Florena + the nose thing

#we love parallels #clexa #florena #clarke griffin #commander lexa #flor vilamayor #lorena sánchez #les de l'hoquei #the hockey girls #the 1OO #wlw

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kokkoro · 5 years

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I'm going to save you from the terrible date you're having - while ice skating. Bonus points if one slips and is caught by the other, leading to a tender but charged moment of eye contact 🤭

On the list of worst dates, Clarke would rate this at a solid four. Definitely not as terrible as the comedy show that was just as bad as the food (turns out bigotry and food poisoning go hand in hand), but it’s definitely getting up there. The ice rink is packed for a Saturday evening and she glides ungracefully towards the wall of the ice rink avoiding the other skaters with narrow success, hands outstretched until safety is firmly established. She grips the edge until her hands hurt and somewhere in the back of her mind she hears Raven say, “I told you so.”

“Clarke!” calls the voice of her date and it’s a nice voice all things considered. Deep and manly and rough (and he’s certainly not bad on the eyes either), but when she glances behind her, catching sight of the wide smile she at first thought was handsome, all she wants to do now is smack it off with her fist. Multiple times. He skids to a stop, spraying a sheen of ice flakes over her feet. “Are you tired, already?”

“Connor–”

“C’mon, don’t be a party pooper. We basically just got here.” He reaches for her hands, tugging her away from the wall. She bites back an involuntary yelp as her feet threaten to slip on the ice, but he does at least one thing right and waits until her feet are firmly under her before letting go again. He skates backwards for a moment, making sure she’s still there before turning around and speeding off.

Other people swerve to avoid her as she stands motionless on the ice, rushing by with impressive speed, and all it takes is one tiny bump to send her balance on an all expenses paid vacation without her.

“Sorry!” calls a teenager, but Clarke barely hears it. She’s too busy concentrating on her feet and the series of uncoordinated steps she takes back towards the wall, waving arms with little success for stability. As a result Clarke reaches out for the first stable thing she can find.

It just so happens to be another person.

There’s a quiet gasp of surprise, almost too soft to be heard, but instead of the solid impact of the ice, Clarke is pulled fast against a firm body and for the first time in the last half hour she isn’t fighting off the urge to fall. That is, until she looks up at her saving grace and finds what must be the prettiest green eyes this side of the continental US.

“Hi,” The woman says, breathy, brown hair a tad mussed from their brief but ultimately victorious battle against gravity (definitely no thanks to Clarke).

“I’m so sorry,” Clarke replies, but her death grip on the woman’s coat doesn’t loosen in the slightest. She can’t help the fleeting thought that this date just got unexpectedly better, though perhaps not for the right reasons, but she’ll definitely take whatever she can get. “I am not having a very good time right now.”

“I can see that,” The woman says with this slight smile, confident enough in her ability to hold Clarke steady with one arm as she takes her right hand and runs it through her hair to tame the mess. “Do you want some help off the ice?”

“I would love some–” And as if on cue, Clarke hears her date’s voice somewhere in the noise and the urge to groan is immediate. She wonders if it would be inappropriate to ask to hide inside this nice woman’s coat. “–but I am currently on the fourth worst date of my life.”

The woman looks over Clarke shoulder, and by the look on her face, Clarke suspects she’s found him. The woman returns her attention back to Clarke. “Do you want an out?”

“You saved my life once already,” Clarke says with a shake of her head. “I can’t ask you to do it again.”

“Lexa.”

Clarke blinks. “I’m sorry?”

“My name,” Lexa says. “And it would honestly be my pleasure.”

“Clarke.”

It’s a second, but the smile is quick to spread across Lexa’s face. “Nice to meet you, Clarke.”

And the things the sound of her name from those lips does to her should be illegal in at least thirteen states.

“Clarke, hey, Clarke!”

This time Clarke does indeed hide. Face pressed against Lexa’s soft jacket, she thinks maybe here she’ll finally find some semblance of peace. It lasts seconds if that, but Clarke inhales this calm earthy scent.

“Hey Clarke,” Connor says, “are you okay?”

Clarke sighs, pulling away, but keeps herself firmly tethered. “I’m–”

“It’s my fault,” Lexa interrupts, and Clarke looks up at her. “I bumped into her and I think she might have twisted something. Isn’t that right?”

“Wha- oh yeah, my ankle. I think I twisted it trying to catch myself.”

“Oh no,” her date says, and out of the corner of her eye, Clarke thinks she sees Lexa roll her eyes. “Do you, uh, want me to help you?”

“That’s alright,” Lexa says. “I can take it from here, Chad.”

“My name’s Connor.”

Lexa doesn’t look at him. “Sure.”

He seems too confused to respond to that and they both leave without looking back. Lexa helps her towards the exit of the rink and Clarke wonders if he’s still there, motionless in the middle of the ice, when they finally make it back to solid ground. It makes her feel a tiny bit better about the whole thing.

Lexa taps the tip of her skates against the ground, the excess flakes falling off, but even without the ice under her Clarke’s legs feel like jello and Lexa quickly reaches for her arm again.

“I think he was trying to show off,” Lexa says, making sure Clarke stays upright while Clarke leads them towards the small wooden benches.

Clarke plops down at the one near the rental counter, making quick work of the laces. “Yeah, well, he sucked at it,” she says, tugging the left skate free with a grunt.

“It’s not bad once you know what you’re doing.”

Clarke looks over, Lexa beside her on the bench with her hands folded together in her lap, and stops, fingers woven between the laces. “Are you offering?”

Lexa offers a small shrug. “Possibly. If you’re interested that is.”

“I might be.”

Lexa glances away, and Clarke watches the corner of her lips quirk upwards. She can’t keep her eyes away for long and when Lexa looks back, Clarke holds the stare. “What do you say about dinner? Right now. A little bit of food and warmth, and if you’re still feeling up to it we can…” Lexa takes a breath, steadying, a blush forming on her cheeks and ears and Clarke thinks it might be the most endearing thing she’s ever seen. “come back when there’s less of a crowd. I can show you how it’s done.”

Clarke’s heart stutters. “I would like that.”

#clexa #prompt stuff #i had fun with this one #and like just imagine ok modest semi-professional hockey player lexa teaching clarke how to skate #later that night when the rink is empty and clarke's like 'you're really good at this' and lexa laughs a little 'i've had some practice'#clarke not thinking much of the random times lexa declines date offers bc she always offers alternatives #something along the lines of 'i have a game but how about sunday instead'#and clarkes like okay thats fine #it takes her months #im gonna see if i can get one more prompt done today bc i missed yesterday but i make no promises

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puthyflapps · 5 years

Note

"Have you ever thought of, you know, not playing a horribly violent sport that negatively impacts my blood pressure?" Clarke murmurs into Lexa's neck. "Maybe that one time Roan cross-checked me into next Thursday... What's changed? You said you were used to dating a hockey player now." "Mmm." "Clarke?" "I'm just worried about cumulative damage when we--when you're older, I guess." "Babe, I will totally be able to play cops and robbers with our kids. Or barbies, or whatever." "Plural? Kids?"

I was watching a complication of female hockey fights yesterday and if they’d allow fighting in the nwhl it would be the deadliest sport

———————————————————

“Plural? Kids?”

“Yeah, at lest enough for our own hockey team,” Lexa responds cheekily.

The hockey player can’t help but laugh when she hears her girlfriend groan dramatically as she rests her head on Lexa’s chest. Lexa tightens her hold on the exasperated blonde and places a sweet kiss on her head.

“You stress me out.”

“I know but isn’t it great practice for when we have kids?”

“Mmm...I suppose you’re right,” Clarke says with a smile as she tilts her head up and waits expectantly for her hockey player to kiss her.

“How’s your hand?” She asks Lexa after their lips finally part.

The brunette had gotten into quite a gruesome fight with Bellamy Blake after he had hit Anya with an illegal check that sent the unsuspecting woman flying into the boards. The flesh on her hand was terribly mangled but, she knocked out one of his teeth so it was worth the pain.

“It hurts but I can still change diapers,” Lexa answers, holding up her bruised hand so the woman in her arms could inspect it.

“All this talk about kids but there’s no ring on my finger,” Clarke replies with a sly smile as she holds up her own left hand to show her bare ring finger.

The hockey player takes Clarke’s soft, porcelain hand into her own calloused, tan one and places a kiss on her naked digit before confidently responding,

“Yet.”

#ask #send me asks and headcanons #clexa #clexa au #clarke griffin #lexa woods #hockey player lexa #ice hockey au

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thefrenchwriter-official · 7 years

Text

Off the ice - Episode 1

Little extra for you guys!

Today’s coverage is presented to you by Arkadia’s Sports Chat Radio Station and their sports analysts Ron Hutchinson and Elizabeth Chenard

Hutchinson: Ladies and gents, welcome back to the Puck Talk, the show where Lizzie and I talk about hockey and stuff.

Chenard: Stuff being generally linked to hockey.

Hutchinson: Well said, Lizzie, you’ve always got these great sentences to add to my rambling and I love it.

Chenard: Would you look at that.

Hutchinson: Except they cannot, in fact, ‘look’, because this is a radio station.

Chenard: Oh, I see what you did there… Now, about the Strikers!

H: Yes!

C: They’ve got a great team, this year, do they?

H: They do, Lizzie, they do. So much so that they’ve got six losses this year, with thirty-two games played, that’s 26 wins right there!

C: That’s incredible, and remember all these scary things we saw a couple years ago, back-to-back losses, some atrocious trades…

H: But let’s remind the folks that many thought Mia Compton leaving the team would be terrible! And look how that turned out!

C: That whole situation has got a name now, I call it the ‘Alexandria Woods factor’, and it’s pretty interesting if you ask me.

H: Pretty interesting? I get chills as soon as she steps on the ice.

C: Well damn.

H: I know. How many goals has she scored up to now, do you have it in that computer of yours?

C: Uh-huh, she’s got twelve down, and a nice top shelf that I really liked against the Typhoon’s Doreen Everett last Friday, did you see that one, Ron?

H (excited): Oh, I sure did.

C: So what we got now, I’ll sum it up to you, we got Lexa Woods as the first center, we got Clarke Griffin manning the goals, we got Reyes and Blake keeping the D-line strong, we got wingers like Jaime Hurd and Lucy Marks, dizzyingly fast girls, these two…

H: Don’t forget Charlotte Langton, I’ve seen good stuff from her the past few games.

C: I was gonna talk about her, actually, because she is now permanent on the second line – coach Reeve has told the press she is, quote on quote, ‘100% satisfied with the kid’s efficiency’, and let’s remind the listeners that this ‘kid’ is only twenty years old!

H: This is a young team.

C: Absolutely, but they don’t show it at all, even Clarke Griffin, who we know to be a very strong-minded, calm goalie, is twenty-one herself!

H: Means the window is only starting to open for them, that’s a good sign.

C: Complete reversal of situation for these girls, I’m so very happy for them.

H: Now let’s talk about the game itself – Lizzie, you’ve been to one of these winter games, right?

C: Yeah, the 2006 classic- that was DC’s Shockwave against Delphi’s Royals.

H: Were you cold?

C (laughing): Yeah, yeah, I was – it was close to -20! The wind was pretty strong also, players were freezing on the bench! Now they’ve started heating those bad boys, I heard.

H: How does that work, do they put the heaters under the bench or something?

C: I have no idea!

H (after a pause): Hey, Lizzie, guess what, I’ve got a surprise for you.

C: What?

H: Yeah, we’re bringing someone in the studio this morning.

C: Yeah? Who would that be?

Lexa Woods (entering the room): Me.

C (gets beeped, covers mouth): Holy sh*t! Oh, I’m sorry!

H: That’s fine, I knew we’d have to beep you.

C (a bit flustered): Well hi! Good to have you here!

Woods (nodding politely): Thanks for having me!

H: Do I get a thank you for that?

C: Oh my god, Ron.

H (to Lexa): She’s a big fan but she’s too proud to admit it.

Woods (laughing): That’s alright.

C: I won’t hide from it! I’m a fan! There, I said it! H: That feels good, Izzie, doesn’t it?

C: Shut up. Oh, will that get beeped also? No? Oh, close call.

W: Well if it helps, I’m a fan of your show! I listen to it when I’m stuck in the morning traffic.

H: That’s quite flattering! Though now if you have a bad game, we can’t say anything if case you’re listening!

C: Bummer.

W: I’ll try my best not to have a bad game.

C: Yeah, but I don’t think you’ve ever had a bad game this season.

H: I corroborate – even though you’re biased, Liz, no offense.

C (sticking out her tongue): I’m not biased, I’m just stating the obvious.

W: Oh, thanks!

H: Alright, let us go back to hockey talk here. So Lexa, with the classic tomorrow, do you see that game as a serious contest or do you see it as a way to have fun?

W (taking a moment to find her words): Hum, well, I think of it as a game first and foremost, but I also wanna see the fun in it, I mean, we’ve all played outdoor hockey as kids, so it definitely brings out some good memories.

H: Oh, I can relate to that… God, we used to freeze to death out there.

W (chuckling): My mum used to give me these thick socks, and she told me to wear two or three pairs at a time so it got to the point where I could barely fit into my skates.

C: But they do heat the benches, right?

W: Yeah, they do!

H and C (at the same time): But where do they put the heating?

W (slightly confused): Uh, depends on the place but in Polis I think it’s integrated in the bench.

H: Huh. Good to know.

C (looking at her sheets): You’re playing against Polis, that must be special for you considering it’s only your second time playing against them!

W: Yeah, it definitely is. Last game against them was fun, I was meeting some of my buddies on the ice between plays and I remember seeing Robbie from a distance, and I was thinking to myself ‘go see her or it’ll be awkward’, and then she came by and didn’t say anything, just bumped my shoulder and I did the same.

C: You didn’t say anything?

W: Well we did, eventually, she said ‘hey old thing’, I said ‘hey kiddo’ and then we were talking like nothing happened – just caught up right away.

H: Stories like that are so nice to hear. It must be weird when you know all these people for years and then you get a call and it’s like ‘bye!’.

W: It definitely is, and then coming into the Strike, I knew they already had Griff as their main player, so that was a change of mood. It was refreshing.

H: Rumors say you didn’t like her at first, is that true?

W (smiling): Well, rumors say a lot of things.

C: Ah, don’t put her into a corner like that.

W: Nah, it’s fine. I’ll tell you what, when I came in I thought Arkadia needed a captain, but they didn’t really, because if a goalie could have the C it’d be Griffin for sure. She’s some sort of rock to this team, she’s always super involved into everything. It was different with Polis in a way, because once I was done working I just took the bag and I headed home and that was it. But the Strikers, they’re a family, they’re all young, they don’t have a family and kids yet so they stick together all the time, and that’s very fun to be a part of.

C: So what would you say your job is in this team?

W: I guess I’ll find out, but I’ll be whatever they want me to be. Whether it’s someone to fill the net or someone to support the girls and make them feel pumped and ready to play at all times…

H: Coach Reeve also said that you’re multi talented – how’s that?

W (smirking): Well, coach Reeve put me in various situations from the start – she’s put me on offense driven plays, with a purpose, you know – like ‘skate up full speed’ or ‘stay beside the net and be annoying’, and I think I’ve been pretty good at all these things and that’s something Reeve likes I guess.

C: Something that’s interesting also is your ability to make defensive plays as well! You’ve been on special teams quite a lot, you’ve been on the ice shorthanded…

W: Yeah, I mean, anything that works out for the team. I just give my best every night.

H: And you’ve got a great +- as a proof of that.

W: Oh yeah? What is it? Sorry, I haven’t checked it in a while.

H: You’re at +9 for the moment, that’s great.

W: Nice! I’ll thank my goalie for that.

C (laughing): Ron will bring her in here later, right?

H: Oh, there goes my other big surprise!

All three of them laugh.

H: But jokes aside, we wish you good luck for that game tomorrow, and we hope the weather will be good!

W: Thank you so much! Yeah, it says it should be around -12!

C: We’re definitely looking forward to that game, that is the Polis Scorpions going up against the Arkadia Strikers! Game will be held in Rendon’s Alliance Arena at seven o’clock, make sure you tune in!

H: A fierce match up! Lexa Woods, thank you for being here this morning!

W: Thanks, I appreciate it!

#clexa fanfic #clexa au #hockey #fanfiction #fanfic #hockey au

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