snowed-in | clexa

twelve

The next morning, Clarke wakes up earlier but Lexa is already gone anyway.

There's a note on the table saying 'Hi Clarke, I'm downstairs if you need me, breakfast is in the fridge.', so Clarke has a quick breakfast, gets ready and then goes downstairs to search Lexa.

The lobby is full of people, so it takes a while to find Lexa (and Clarke figures that the isolation really does have to be good, because she heard nothing of that noise upstairs). Arguing with Anya, they're leaned over a laptop behind the reception counter.

"So you're trying to tell me this just took weeks to load?"

"Maybe we had a short period of internet this morning? I'm not sure, but I checked the e-mails daily, the internet was down."

Lexa sighs and runs a hand through her hair. "We can't possibly get all of this done by tomorrow."

"Maybe if we split up?"

"Look at the amount of paper, it would take both of us a week of daily work, and there's other stuff to do."

"So we call them and say there was no internet. It's the truth. They'll understand."

"First of all, the phones are down, second of all, Mr. Jaha is not understanding of anything ever, he'll be here tomorrow taking over the inn or whatever stands in his contracts. He's been stuck here ever since the first snowstorm, so he's even more stressed than usual, and he wouldn't get any of it. He's a snobbish workaholic only looking for money, I mean he's from goddamn New York, what do you expect? They're all the same, I don't think they've ever heard the word humanity in their lives."

Anya doesn't reply to that- she has noticed Clarke's presence, and it doesn't take long for Lexa to do too.

"Interesting," Clarke says with raised brows and Lexa closes her eyes, sighing.

"I'm sorry. I was not talking about you."

"Mhm. There's an issue?" she asks and Lexa internally curses herself a second time when she realizes it's directed more towards Anya than herself.

Anya manages a smile. "The guy who we pay all our bills to likes to make them annual, and we didn't get all the papers until now. He needs them tomorrow or he'll get ugly- uglier, I should say- and we can't possibly get all of this done in less than a week, especially not now. He always makes unnecessarily many requests, it's a pain in the ass really, I think he's just trying to find a reason to take the inn." Anya pats a stack of papers on the desk that surpasses the definition of stack.

Tower fits better. Skyscraper.

"And he's here in person?"

"Well, let's just say we have had internet problems before."

"You just have to fill it out?" Clarke asks, taking a closer look, and Anya nods.

"We have all the numbers and what needs to be filled in written down, but trust me, the whole thing takes a long, long time."

Clarke hums and flips through some of the papers. "Do you have coffee?"

Anya raises her brows. "Yes?"

"Then I'll have this done by tomorrow. If you let me."

"Clarke, you don't get it, this is a whole lot more work than you think," Lexa speaks up and Clarke looks at her entirely unamused.

"Workaholics, remember?"

"I didn't mean it that way and I'm sure you're great at what you do but this too much even for you, it can take weeks."

"Watch me."

Anya shrugs at Lexa. "You heard the woman." Then, to Clarke. "You can take the papers upstairs, it's quieter there, and I'll bring the laptop and coffee."

"Thank you."

-

Lexa crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the counter when Anya returns from supplying Clarke. "Seriously, Anya? You're making her do this when we both know it's impossible?"

"I'm sorry Lexa, am I the one severely insulting the woman who's offering to help? She's not a child, she might manage at least a decent amount. More than you and I."

"I didn't mean to insult her, that wasn't directed at Clarke!"

"Let me quote you 'He's from New York, what do you expect? They're all the same' and something along the lines of snobbish workaholic."

"I didn't mean her."

"As a rich office worker, 'snobbish workaholic looking for money' might have been a too accurate description for her to believe that. I mean you were going a bit hard on the stereotypes."

"Clarke is special. I don't want her to think she's not."

Anya looks at Lexa for a while and then facepalms. Her laugh is amused and, perhaps, slightly fed-up. "Lexa, please go fix your teenage crush."

"What? I don't have a 'teenage crush', Clarke is just a decent person and I feel bad about insulting her."

"Right. And you totally don't look like she just ticked 'no' on a note asking her for a date that you slipped into her locker."

"Shut up."

"Well, go fix it then. But not now, your snobbish workaholic is working."

"I hate you."

"You're a bad liar."

-

Lexa is only kept downstairs for the rest of the day by Anya, who would have probably labelled it 'teenage crush behaviour' if she had gone up to apologize properly earlier.

It gets late that night, they have a lot of work to do and the refugees, as Madi so charmingly called herself and everyone else finding shelter in the inn, aren't helping the situation.

So by the time Lexa gets upstairs, it's almost midnight, and she doesn't have her hopes up that Clarke is even still awake.

The entire apartment is dark when Lexa enters, apart from the fireplace still burning. Lexa only sees Clarke immediately because of the blue laptop light, sitting on the couch, hunched over a stack of papers.

Just like Lexa expected, most of them are still towering next to her.

"Hi," Lexa says carefully, softly, and Clarke hums in acknowledgement. "You okay?"

Clarke hums again.

"I'm sorry for what I said this morning, I really, really didn't mean it directed towards you. I shouldn't have generalized like that. I was being an asshole and I'm sorry, I was irritated and nervous about the papers and afraid of getting the inn in trouble. I shouldn't have handled it like that. I'm sorry."

Clarke looks up from her paper and finds Lexa standing next to the couch. "It's okay. I get it and look, I'm not trying to be rude, but I really have to get this done now."

Lexa stares at her. "Are you crazy? You're not going to get this done today."

"Lexa, I have ten pages left to fill out. It'd be awesome if you could stop telling me I can't, I'll be done in fifteen minutes."

And that's when Lexa realizes the huge tower next to Clarke isn't the work still left to do, but the work she has already done. She's so speechless, she just silently leaves to the kitchen and warms up the leftovers from yesterday's dinner, not wanting to bother Clarke any longer.

Ten minutes later, Clarke tidies up the table, gets up, puts her cups of coffee in the dishwasher and says, "Done," as if it was some five minute chore she just-so checked off the list.

Lexa has still not stopped being in awe. "Oh my God, I can't believe you. Seriously? You got all the papers filled out? I don't believe it."

Clarke raises her brows rather unimpressed and probably kind of annoyed. "Would you like to check?"

"No, no, that's not- holy shit Clarke, you're amazing. Thank you so much."

Lexa offers Clarke a hug and Clarke can't help her tense, tired body melting into the touch. "You're welcome," she murmurs.

"Are you hungry or have you just been pretending to be a human the whole time?"

Clarke laughs tiredly. "Hungry."

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