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Through The Years: Part II/III

Seven Years Later

She didn't know what to feel. Anxiety? Dread? Desperation? She wasn't sure. Probably all of the above, plus more. Her eyes were burning, her head was spinning and there was a pain in her chest. A pain that was once familiar but now held only a distant memory. The only thing she was sure of in that moment was that she wanted, needed , Lexa. Lexa would understand. Lexa always understood. From the moment Lexa had entered her life the brunette had been a breath of fresh air. A reminder of how to breathe . She wouldn't need words, she wouldn't have to try to articulate her thoughts. She never did. Lexa would take one, long look into her eyes and she'd just know . Lexa would know everything that she was feeling. Lexa knew her better than anyone else, including herself.

Lexa just had this way of seeing her. Of really seeing her. At first, she feared it. It scared her to no end. The inability to hide, the lack of escape from those insightful green eyes, made her itch. To be uncovered, to be naked in such a vulnerable way. In a way that she wasn't versed in, giving her a lack of control that she wasn't used to. But not anymore, now she only felt comfort in the fact that she was seen , that someone knew her so entirely.

Not only would Lexa know, not only would Lexa understand, but Lexa would know what to do. Lexa would know what to say and Lexa would know exactly how to gather her fragmented pieces to put her back together again. Lexa always made her whole and did it so gently, so tenderly that it would make her mend . Lexa wouldn't even expect a thank you afterwards. Lexa never did. Lexa always put her back together again for the simple fact that Lexa wanted her to be whole too, needed her to be. Because somehow, by some miracle, she was Lexa's life line just as much as Lexa was hers. Really they were only halves, together making a whole.

So as efficiently and quietly, so as not to be spotted, as possible, Clarke gathered her offspring and left to find her whole. So that once again her world could make sense.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Clarke?” Lexa called out once she'd entered their house.

Their son, six year old Jacob Gustus Griffin-Woods, wasn't far behind her, struggling to hoist his oversized backpack over his shoulders after refusing Lexa's help with the heavy object. But he was the man of the house and he took that job seriously, always opting to try and do everything himself as well as look after his mothers and sisters. Born just a year after they'd decided to have another baby, Griff was the spitting image of Clarke. Bright blonde hair and light, azure blue eyes. His grin splitting his face in half and dimples that defied the limitations of cuteness. Personality wise, he took after Lexa. Always calm, always sweet and with a quietness to him that Clarke and his sisters lacked. Lexa always thought that it was the reason they were bonded so closely, because they were similar. He'd always clung to her more than Clarke, which wasn't the case with either of his sisters.

Dumping his backpack by the front door, his immediate move was to drop to the floor to make himself available to Ralphie for cuddles. The golden retriever, now seven years old, was more than happy to see him home from school and always came to greet whomever came home with a waggle in her tale and, according to Lexa, a smile on her face. Lexa patted the dogs head but soon left Griff and Ralphie to themselves in search of Clarke. Her wife wasn't hard to find, sprawled out on the living room couch and talking to Octavia, both pregnant although Octavia more so. She smiled at the sight, especially at Clarke's lazy attire of oversized sweats and tight, white top that stretched enough over the blonde's stomach to reveal her rather small baby bump. So far, the smallest baby out of all of Clarke's pregnancies.

Octavia and Lincoln had come a long way in seven years. They'd broken up a few times, at the beginning of their on again-off again engagement but everyone always knew that they were supposed to end up together. Octavia became a social worker, just like she'd always wanted, the inspiration coming from Madi's infancy and growing into a passion. She was good at it too and although the job came with some more difficult situations, Octavia loved it. Lincoln, after studying sports science, took a long time to figure out which career path he wanted to choose. He'd tried many things, from sports therapy to nutrition but in the end he always came back to personal training. A position where all of his skills could come into play. Something he was a natural at and something he had threatened Clarke with many times over the years when she was getting over zealous. He had a dream to eventually open his own gym but for now being a personal trainer was both fulfilling and lucrative. He'd re-proposed to Octavia on their six year anniversary, or what would've been had they not split up in between, the one that they counted. Their wedding, planned for next year and pushed in order to buy their own home first, something they definitely wanted to do before kids came into the equation. But sometimes plans don't always work out the way you want them to and Octavia found out she was pregnant at the same time as Clarke's insemination took. The best friends were ecstatic to be able to share their pregnancies. Clarke because their children would be the same age and Octavia because this being Clarke's fourth pregnancy meant that Octavia had an abundance of pregnancy related knowledge at her fingertips.

Leaning in the doorway, arms crossed and eyebrow quirked, Lexa waited until blue eyes fixed on hers.

“Where's the boy?”

“Funny story,” Lexa pursed her lips, “Griff's teacher wanted to talk to me about an altercation in the school yard this morning, a physical altercation. Apparently the school takes these kind of situations very seriously.”

Lexa watched as Clarke's features grew into a frown, even as pink dusted her cheeks but it was Octavia who replied, “Griff Junior got into a fight?”

“Not Griff,” Lexa shook her head before her gaze narrowed in on her wife, “ Clarke .”

Clarke, attention suddenly fixed on her fingers in her lap, said nothing. The only indication that she knew exactly what Lexa was referring to, a pout on her lips. Octavia though, couldn't keep her amusement in, bursting out laughing as her eyes widened in surprise.

“What was I supposed to do?” Clarke spat, finally looking up at Lexa with her chin raised in defiance, “That woman's son was picking on my child and she wasn't going to do anything about it!”

Lexa chuckled, “Did you have to go all mama bear on her?”

“Can you blame her?” Octavia asked, hand rubbing her swollen stomach. Her own pregnancy leaving her more teary than Clarke's as her laughter quickly turned into sniffles, “Poor Griff Junior, he doesn't deserve to be picked on...he's such a good kid and...”

“It's okay, O,” Clarke, lips pursed sympathetically and gently patted her friend's knee as Octavia grew more upset as she spoke. Blue met green and Clarke frowned, somewhat more sheepish than her previous annoyance, “Am I in trouble?”

“I'll handle it,” Lexa smiled fondly.

Clarke's frown only deepened, “What are you going to do?”

“I'm going to call his mom a bitch and push her,” Lexa dead panned, lips quirking and humor evident in her tone as she mocked her wife, her wife that's frown darkened, clearly not in the mood to be poked fun at.

At least Octavia found amusement in Lexa's words, her tears drying up to make room for her giggles. And those giggles only intensifying when Clarke shot her a disapproving glare. It was Griff who stole his mother's attention, finally making in through to the living room and using their old and chewed coffee table to climb onto Clarke's lap. Lexa really should replace it, Ralphie had gone through quite the chewing phase when she was younger and managed to damage the corners and legs of the coffee table.

“Hey, you,” Clarke beamed, demeanor changing in an instant and tone dripping with the warmth and love of the mother she was, “Did you have a good day at school?”

Griff nodded, hugging his mother around the neck and letting out a yawn, “M'sleepy.”

Clarke nodded, cradling the six year old to her chest and pressing kisses to his forehead, “Sleepy enough for a nap before dinner?”

Another nod and Griff tilted his head for a kiss, not being disappointed when Clarke immediately scattered his face with kisses, making him giggle in such a Clarke-like way that it had Lexa swooning. With one last kiss for his mommy, Griff wiggled down from Clarke's lap, only pausing to press a kiss to Clarke's tummy before he was hugging Octavia and Lexa in turn. Muttering as he went, “Night, mommy. Night, baby. Night, auntie O. Night, mama.”

“Have a good sleep, bud,” Lexa whispered as it came to her turn for a hug, pressing a kiss to his mop of blonde hair, she escorted him to the stairs and watched him ascend with Ralphie in tow.

“He's so cute, I want one like him,” Octavia gushed.

“You can just take him,” Lexa joked, “We've got another one on back order and we can make more.”

“Oh, hush,” Clarke scolded, swatting at Lexa as she made her way to the kitchen, Lexa and Octavia on her heels. She paused once she reached the fridge, tipping her head in Octavia's direction, “Drink?”

“I better go, actually,” Octavia patted her belly, “Usually I'd make up a polite excuse but seeing as it's just you , I'm fucking tried. Being pregnant sucks sometimes.”

“Charming,” Clarke smirked, grabbing herself a water and sitting down on one of the swiveling bar stools, “Give Linc a big kiss from us.”

“I will...but not too big,” Octavia winked, giving Lexa a brief wave before she headed out of the front door.

And then there was two. Lexa observed her wife, watching Clarke glance at the clock on the wall before fixing her gaze on Lexa and giving her a slow once over. Lexa knew exactly what that meant and she stepped up between her wife's legs. Clarke didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around Lexa's neck or her legs around Lexa's hips. And Lexa paid her back in kind, seizing Clarke by the waist and letting her eyes sweep over Clarke's beautiful face before catching her lips in a kiss. She loved to touch Clarke. She loved to kiss Clarke. She loved to be the one allowed to do those things. But as she ran her hand softly up Clarke's side, palm grazing the size of her breast, Clarke pulled away with a harsh and painful nip to her bottom lip.

“No time for tits, just finger me.”

“Jesus, Clarke,” Lexa scoffed, “Try to be a little less romantic would you? I'm getting emotional.”

Rolling her eyes, Clarke huffed, pulling Lexa to her more firmly and letting the husk of her aroused state color her voice as she spoke in a panted breath across Lexa's lips, “We have fifteen minutes before our daughter comes home, do you want to make jokes or do you want to make me moan?”

Well, Clarke had a point there. And Lexa wasn't ashamed to admit that feisty Clarke turned her on to no end. So she nodded quickly, slanting her mouth against Clarke's in a heady, sex laced kiss and mentally promised the blonde that she'd rock her damn world for the fifteen minutes they had. In one swift motion, Lexa tugged Clarke's top over her head. Maybe they didn't have time for 'tits' but that sure as hell didn't mean that Lexa couldn't get a good look at them, swollen due to her current pregnancy and spilling out of her white t-shirt bra. Her next movement had her hand down the front of Clarke's loose, grey sweats, fingers hitting slickness immediately and swiping in their play.

She groaned into Clarke's mouth, never being able to get enough of her wife's readiness. Because Clarke always was. Ready. Clarke's sex drive never dampened, no matter how pregnant she was or how many sleepless nights they were getting thanks to crying infants. They always made time for this, whether it was a planned evening when Indra would have the kids and they could spend hours coaxing each other to extreme heights and taking their time with one another's bodies or simply catching a spare fifteen minutes for a quick, beneath the clothes fumble as they panted into each other's mouths.

Lexa didn't waste any time delving into Clarke's depths, penetrating her with two, long fingers and catching the hiss of Clarke's breath hitching with her tongue. Her palm hit Clarke's clit, the feeling familiar as well as the course, blonde hair tickling her wrist. And her fingers continued to play, skilled and versed in everything Clarke and reaching for the places they knew to be responsible for Clarke's neediest moans. Clarke's nails bit into her shoulders, like usual, her other hand tangled in Lexa's hair commanding the angle of their kiss. Their mouths meeting in a filthy display of dominance. Of sex .

The thought of how childish this act was entered her mind, making her chuckle. They were thirty four and twenty nine year old, married adults with three kids and a fourth on the way. And here they were, having a quickie on the very breakfast bar they fed their kids. But her amusement was met with protest in the from of Clarke's groan and Lexa wouldn't change this, them , for the world. So she picked up her pace, showing Clarke just how much she wanted her, just how sexy she found her. And she fucked her into the chair, pace steady and thrusts hard enough to have Clarke's breath catching on every forward stroke.

Clarke came just as the front door swung open, pussy greedily clenching around Lexa's digits as her mouth opened in a high pitched whimper than turned into a breathily spewed cuss, “ Fuck !”

And Lexa tore her mouth from Clarke's jaw to come face to face with their daughter, looking like a deer caught in headlights and being tailed by her aunt and cousin. Madi was fourteen years old now, left with all of her attitude and none of her cuteness. She was beautiful and any of her childish features had been left behind. Some things never changed of course. She was still ever the empath, she was still touched with kindness. Ralphie still slept on her bed and Carl, sent to live a life of solitude in Madi's wardrobe, still made an appearance when times were tough.

It was surreal for Lexa. For Madi to be fourteen years old and look so much like Clarke. Perhaps it was because Clarke was pregnant now but sometimes Lexa's mind wandered to Clarke at fourteen. The same age as Madi was now, yet pregnant with her. Sure, Madi had grown into more of a young woman but she was still very much a child. She was still learning, still growing, still understanding herself and whenever the thought came to her, Lexa did a double take. Taking Madi in as her fourteen year old self and almost being unable to relate her to Clarke at that age. It gave her a whole new appreciation for the teenage mother, that was for sure.

Still, entering the house to find her parents in such a compromising position had her screwing her face up in disgust, “What the hell? I don't wanna see that! I don't wanna see you doing my mom!”

Lexa had the decency to blush, but one glance at her happily satisfied wife had Lexa's lips ticking into a smirk, “Could be worse, you could've walked in on me doing not your mom.”

Her quip made two sets of blue eyes roll as Clarke swatted her and Madi made a noise of protest in the back of her throat, the mother and daughter duo clearly unimpressed by Lexa's humor. At least Raven laughed, pushing her way passed Madi so she could take a seat opposite Clarke's turned back. Lexa, after realizing their position, wiped her sticky fingers on Clarke's underwear and went looking for the blonde's top while silently cussing herself for not being more careful where she threw the garment.

“Damn, Clarkey!” Raven's eyes widened when Clarke spun round, bra clad breasts on display, “You gonna breastfeed Lexa with those bad boys or what?”

“Stop looking at me,” Clarke grumbled, attempting to cover herself, “I'm fat.”

“You were fat before,” Raven supplied, helpfully, “Now you're fat and pregnant.”

“Try not to poke the bear,” Lexa said gently, shooting Raven a warning glare before pressing a kiss to Clarke's cheek and handing her the top she'd procured to slip on.

Once decent, Clarke's attention fell to the youngest members of their family currently in the room. The pair hung back, poised halfway between the adults and the front door as if ready to make a hasty exit if anyone started humping again. Their positions mirrored with crossed arms and equally unimpressed looks on their faces. They were both beautiful, their even features and dark hair similar but their eyes different. One set blue, the other brown. But equally beautiful and that was shown in the amount of male attention they each got at school. Even with Ontari two years older, at sixteen, they spent their time running the halls of Ton DC high. It was something that concerned Clarke greatly but Lexa was always there to reassure her. Madi wasn't into boys like Ontari. Ontari liked the power she held over them and often had more than one 'boyfriend' on the go. But not Madi, Madi had never strayed from Jordan. And after all this time, after several pleading conversations with her blonde mother, she was finally going on her first proper date with him that evening.

“Are you excited for your date?” Clarke asked, sending Madi a warm smile.

Madi's tough exterior softened at the question, her cheeks tinging rose and her brow furrowing thoughtfully, “A bit nervous actually.”

“Don't be, it's a beautiful expression of love between two people-”

“Raven!” Clarke cut her off, tone venomous before her eyes flicked back to her daughter and she opened her arms for Madi to fall into. Which she did, sitting on her mother's knee, “Don't worry, baby. You've hung out with him plenty of times before and Jordan knows you so well, it'll feel natural.”

“Thanks, mom,” Madi smiled, giving her blonde mother a thankful squeeze before turning to her brunette, “And you're going to stop mom from freaking out and thinking I'll come back home pregnant and married, right?”

“You got it,” Lexa chuckled, sweeping Madi's hair back behind her ear, “I'll do my best.”

“Thanks, mama,” Madi grinned, pressing a kiss to Clarke's cheek before standing up and turning her attention to her cousin,

“Can you help me choose an outfit, Tari?”

Ontari nodded, grabbing Madi's hand to lead her upstairs, her voice being carried down as they went, “You wanna look hot so we should look in Clarke's wardrobe first.”

Clarke's eyes bugged out as Raven sniggered into the palm of her hand.

“Nothing low cut!” Lexa called up the stairs after them, not wanting the fact that Madi took after Clarke in the chest department to be the focus of her first date. Sliding her arms around Clarke's neck, she groaned into her shoulder, “When the hell did she get old enough to be wearing your clothes?”

“Tell me about it,” Clarke grumbled, a pout forming on her lip.

“Oh-kay,” Raven rolled her eyes, getting up from her seat and rummaging through the fridge once she'd opened the door,

“We're having dinner here by the way, Anya's at your mom's with Ilian.”

Lexa smiled at the thought of her nephew. Anya and Raven had gotten married five years ago and just a year after that they were graced with a son. They knew they wanted to adopt a second child but with Ontari entering her teen years they'd planned on waiting a few years before adding to their family. But just a year after they were wed, they were offered a baby boy. A baby that was biologically Ontari's half brother and they couldn't refuse, knowing how important family was and being aware that children in the system didn't have much chance to be placed with a biological sibling. Having a newborn turned out to be something Anya and Raven found incredibly difficult but with Raven's knowledge from Madi's infancy and with the help of the experts, Clarke and Lexa, they'd managed well. And now four year old Ilian was a rambunctious and loud little boy who liked to follow Griff around and copy his sister's cussing when no one was paying attention.

“You can cook then,” Clarke countered, eyes narrowed until a smile spread across her own face upon Raven agreement.

She turned to Lexa then, “Have a talk with Jordan when he shows up, scare him so he knows to treat her right.”

Lexa's lips ticked at the thought, “And how do you propose I do that?”

“I don't know,” Clarke frowned, “Can't we ask Indra to come over or something?”

Lexa chuckled, pressing a reassuring kiss to her wife's cheek, “She'll be fine. You taught her well.”

Clarke huffed but relented nonetheless, even as she grumbled, “I better have.”

After that it was relatively quiet. Raven and Lexa started making dinner and Clarke, once Madi and Ontari appeared – Madi clad in once of Clarke's dressed, thankfully one without any cleavage even if it was a little short for Lexa's appeasement and Ontari, looking bored – getting out her more expensive make up to finish Madi's look. Lexa smiled at the situation, watching Madi perch on the breakfast bar and sit still while Clarke stroked her face with a make up brush. Clarke hardly ever wore make up but Madi had grown up watching her apply it whenever she did. Madi always loved to watch Clarke putting make up on and now, under her mother's supervision, it was her turn. And it warmed Lexa's heart to see.

Jordan showed up not long after they were done, dressed smartly and adorning a blush, a simple rose in his hand that he offered Madi with a shy smile. And Lexa had to squeeze Clarke's waist to keep her wife's tears at bay. It was a big moment for their little one. Her first date. Even though she'd technically already been in a relationship with her boyfriend for nine years. Going to the play park at eight was apparently very different from going to dinner at fourteen without your parents.

“Make good choices, Madi!” Raven called after the teen as she left with her date, “Be like Lexa, not Clarke!”

“Hey!” Lexa protested, “I had kissed multiple woman at that age I'll have you know!”

Raven eyed her suspiciously, “Multiple?”

Lexa's eyes narrowed, “Yes.”

“So...two?” Raven asked, teasing lilt entering her tone.

Lexa sniffed, glancing at the amused face of her wife before levelling Raven with a defiant glare, “Yes.”

Raven nodded, “Was one of them Indra?”

Lexa deflated, expression flattening straight away, “Yes.”

And she scowled as the three burst out laughing. Raven slapping her hand against the counter to try and reel in her amusement, “Alright, dinners almost done so who's getting your minions?”

“Our children ?” Clarke countered with an unimpressed raise of her eyebrow, rolling her eyes when Raven shrugged and turning to Lexa, “You get the girl, I'll get the boy?”

Lexa nodded at the proposal, taking Clarke's hand and following her up the stairs. She knew that Clarke would usually leave Lexa to Griff while she would go for their youngest daughter but Clarke hadn't been much up for carrying heavy objects these days and whereas Griff would happily walk down the stairs himself, they both knew that their daughter wouldn't. They shared a kiss when they had to part ways, going into separate bedrooms and Lexa knelt down in front of the bed containing wild brunette curls and a tiny frame.

Griff was never a clingy baby, he was pretty independent at only one, no longer in need of Clarke's constant pandering and that didn't do much to appease Clarke's need to baby. So she'd gotten broody quickly, leaving only two years between their youngest children. The choice of who was going to get pregnant was obvious. Watching Clarke once, with Griff, was enough for Lexa to know that she definitely didn't want that. That pregnancy just wasn't for her. She liked it that way around, she liked Clarke to be pregnant and her to be in the supporting role. And she loved to dote on Clarke when she was, back massages, midnight cravings, long baths, comforting her when she cried and reassuring her when she felt fat. It was Clarke that wanted to use Lexa's eggs, Lexa had never been fussed. She loved their kids and she didn't think she would love them any differently if she was biologically related to them. But Clarke had nagged, telling Lexa that they needed at least one child with Lexa's superb DNA.

Lexa had given in, of course and Clarke had been implanted with Lexa's fertilized eggs. And it was interesting how primal she felt knowing that Clarke was full of her baby. It was sort of...arousing. Especially when Clarke reminded her of that fact when they were in bed.

It brought them Alyssa. Who was without a doubt the weirdest child that Lexa had ever had the pleasure of meeting. And every time the kid did something extra out of the ordinary it gave Clarke great pleasure to fix Lexa with a teasing expression as if to say 'all you, babe'. And she couldn't argue because out of the four children they had, the ones with Clarke's DNA were relatively normal when compared to their green eyed sibling, even the one still in the womb. And Lexa had been right in thinking that her love would be no different. She loved Alyssa no more and no less than she did Madi and Griff. She loved Clarke more, though. After providing them with a third healthy and wonderful child. And Alyssa gave Clarke every opportunity to baby her, loving to be the center of Clarke maternal attention.

Her fingertips met her daughter's soft, warm skin as she pushed the hair back from her face and soon enough Alyssa's big, green eyes were blinking open and a dopey smile came to the four year old’s face, “You're not mommy.”

A soft chuckle left Lexa's throat, “I'm not, is that okay?”

“Yef,” Alyssa grinned, wrapping her little arms around Lexa's face and squishing her into her chest, “I dreamed of macaroni.”

“Well,” Lexa's voice was muffled, prompting her to blow a raspberry onto the little girls tummy in order to free herself when Alyssa squealed, “It's no macaroni but auntie Rae made stir fry.”

Alyssa wrinkled her nose at the thought, palms coming up to rub the sleep from her eyes and eventually blinking up at Lexa with a sly expression, “Mommy pomised ice cream after dinner.”

Not surprised at the information her daughter was presenting her with, Lexa simply raised an eyebrow, “And will mommy let you have ice cream if you don't eat your stir fry?”

“Nofe!” Alyssa giggled, reaching out her arms to let Lexa pick her up but gasping before Lexa could lift her, “Wait! Kiss my feet first.”

Lexa only had a seconds warning before Alyssa's feet were in her face and she grinned against them, pressing kisses to them and each toe until the little girl was satisfied, wrapping herself around her mother's neck so that she could be carried downstairs to the dreaded stir fry.

“Do you need a pee?” Lexa asked once they'd reached the ground floor, swinging Alyssa onto her hip in order to asses the four years old's answer for credibility.

“Nofe,” Alyssa answered, smirk on her face and eyes narrowed slyly, a sure sign that she wasn't telling the truth and all it took was for Clarke to clear her throat, sending Alyssa a pointed look from across the kitchen for the little girl to dissolve into giggles, babbling through the noise of her amusement, “Yef, need potty.”

“Okay,” Lexa laughed, setting her down and watching her scamper towards the bathroom, “Remember to wash your hands.”

“Wait for me!” Alyssa screeched as she ran.

Lexa settled into the free seat in between Griff and Ontari, catching eyes with Clarke to share an amused smile. Clarke had beaten her downstairs and Griff was already tucking into his meal, his eyes still tired but his mouth wide awake as he sleepily focused on shoveling noodles into it, his elbows barely reaching the table but he preferred to sit on a grown up chair. Unlike Alyssa, who upon her arrival promptly made herself comfortable in Clarke's lap. Tucking her head under Clarke's and tilting her face up to lick Clarke's chin.

Clarke paid no mind, used to their daughter's antics and carried on her conversation with Raven after she'd supplied the four year old with a fork. They'd given up on giving her plates, knowing that'd she was more likely to eat a decent amount if it was from Clarke's. And she dug straight in, haphazardly scooping bean sprouts into her mouth with one hand while the other fished down the front of Clarke's shirt, no doubt to pinch at the skin of her boobs, a habit she'd had ever since she was a baby. Every now and then pausing to feed a noodle to Ralphie, who was eagerly waiting by Clarke's knees.

With Alyssa taken care of, Lexa's attention fell to Griff and she reached forward to sweep back the blonde lengths of his hair from his bright, blue eyes. He barely noticed in his sleepy daze, more focused on his chewing than his mother. And she studied the lines of his face, soaking in his delicate features with pride and love. It was Clarke and Raven's conversations that brought her out of her own daze, Clarke's voice lowering.

“I found condoms in her purse, Rae,” Clarke growled, half assing an attempt to cover Alyssa's ear as the four year old batted her away, “I have a right to be concerned.”

“You're overprotective,” Raven rolled her eyes, “Think about what you were like at her age.”

“I was pregnant at her age, Raven,” Clarke snapped back, “With her . I just...I don't want her to make the same choices I did.”

Raven leaned back in her seat, pointing her fork towards Clarke and shooting her a puzzled frown, “If you're talking about under-age pregnancy then wouldn't condoms kinda prevent that- ow! I was just saying!”

Unable to contain her laughter, Lexa glanced between Clarke's scowl and Raven's scolded expression as she rubbed her now injured arm where Clarke had hit her.

“We had a sex education seminar, everyone got some,” Ontari supplied, tone patronizing and levelling Clarke with an unimpressed glare.

“Oh,” Clarke's frown softened, eyes meeting the table before they bore into Lexa's, taking reassurance from Lexa's gaze until she was interrupted by Alyssa as the four year old patted her face to get her attention.

“Mommy,” Alyssa mused, looking up at her mother thoughtfully, “Do you ever feel like we should have more sand?”

Lexa was caught off guard but Clarke was more versed in Alyssa than Lexa was. Something about giving birth to them seemed to always give Clarke more insight into their kids. And Clarke and Alyssa had a special bond. Sending a pointed glare towards Lexa, reminding Lexa not to laugh, Clarke swooped down to press a kiss to the little brunette's forehead, “All the time, hon.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Lexa was left to her own devices once Raven and Ontari left. Clarke had promised Alyssa that ice cream after all so she'd taken their two younger children to the local ice cream parlor for an early evening snack. They'd be going to bed soon anyway and then it'd be up to Lexa to distract Clarke until Madi's ten o'clock curfew came around. She'd cleaned up. She'd taken Ralphie for a short stroll, the dog wasn't a fan of going out in the dark and with the sun dipping Lexa thought a longer walk wasn't worth the risk. She wanted to be home for Clarke's return, anyway. Clarke liked to be heavily involved with their kids, she liked to spend a lot of time with them. But she was pregnant and taking two kids, both under the age of seven, to an ice cream parlor wasn't relaxing for someone who wasn't six months pregnant.

She'd offered to go with them, of course. But Clarke had simply pressed a longing kiss to her lips, a promise for later, and told her to try to get some writing done. She didn't, of course. She never did when their kids weren't in school and she found comfort in the routine of working only until three pm on school days and having her weekends free. Clarke was different. Clarke could pick up and leave her sketches whenever she found it convenient, much more adapt at chasing her muse. She could work whenever she had a spare ten minutes if she wanted to and Lexa always found that impressive.

But being alone in the house, no wife, no kids, Lexa felt out of sorts. She loved her family dearly and found no comfort in being apart from them. Instead she felt on edge, fidgety and unable to relax. She wasn't often alone these days and it definitely showed in her lack of ability to focus on anything that might entertain her for a few moments. She'd just shut the TV off for the third time and made her way through to the kitchen to, again, check what snacks they had in when Clarke came through the front door.

Lexa relaxed immediately, an easy smile coming to her face. It only took a few seconds to realize something wasn't right. She made eye contact with Clarke only to find Clarke pale, paler than usual. And her blue orbs, usually so full of happiness and light, empty. A coldness creeping in that Lexa wasn't used to. A distance. Clarke was shutting down, building her walls and Lexa...Lexa couldn't let her.

“What happened?” Lexa rushed to her side in an instant, pulling Clarke into her arms and searching her for any physical cause for her distress. Thankfully she found none and let out a breath of relief, fingers briefly touching Clarke's firm belly to remind herself that their baby was okay. But she hadn't seen Clarke like this in a long time, so shaken up, in such anguish, with such pain swirling within blue orbs. She had no idea what could possibly cause it, the expression on Clarke's face one she hardly recognized belonging to her wife. What could've done such damage to Clarke's mood, to cause her anxiety and heart break at the same time. Lexa tried desperately to rack her brain, eyes searching Clarke's until, “Your mom?”

A despaired intake of breath had Clarke's pooling tears sliding down her face and Lexa knew that she'd hit the nail on it's head. She tugged Clarke closer, wrapping the blonde into an embrace to protect her from the world, from her mother . Lexa knew that Abby had written, had continued to write for years but Clarke had never responded to any of those letters. Clarke hadn't even read them. So what brought Abby to Ton DC now? Lexa couldn't be sure but she had a creeping suspicion that it was for Clarke. To connect with Clarke in some way. And it scared Lexa, she wasn't sure if Clarke could take it.

“Where are the kids?” Lexa whispered into Clarke's hairline, knowing that wherever they were they'd be okay but wanted to double check that she didn't need to make further arrangements for them.

“Your mom's,” was Clarke's hiccupped reply, voice muffled by the skin of Lexa's neck as she clung to her.

And Lexa relaxed, knowing that she could focus all of her attention on Clarke. Indra would keep their kids forever if they let her and they'd be safe and happy. So she pressed a kiss to Clarke's cheek and silently led her upstairs by the hand, gently nudging Clarke into a sitting position at the end of their bed and busying herself by running them a bath. She needed Clarke to feel safe and now that Clarke had let her in, let her through the walls, she needed to make sure she stayed there. And touch was important in achieving that. If she could touch Clarke then Clarke hadn't shut herself away, from Lexa at least.

It didn't take long before they were submerged in the warm, steamy water. Clarke lying sideways between her legs and curled up. And she held Clarke to her, one hand combing through damp, blonde locks and the other wrapped around her waist, palm flat on Clarke's curved stomach where their baby laid. Clarke's bump was small, smaller than the others. She was no bigger than she was at three months with Griff and even Alyssa, who had been a smaller baby, had made more of a presence than this one. But the baby was healthy, just small.

Lexa wanted to talk to Clarke, reassure her, comfort her. Something . But she knew Clarke. And Clarke wasn't ready, Clarke was processing and Clarke would talk when she had something to say. So she stayed quiet and held her wife close, hoping that Clarke was getting everything she needed. Just like she had many times before, through the thunder storms. Both literal and metaphorical. Just like she always would.

As it turned out, today wasn't the day for Clarke to speak at all. Instead falling asleep in Lexa's arms and staying that way even as Lexa gently dried her off and tucked her into bed, forgoing the struggle of cladding her with pajamas and deciding that Clarke sleeping naked wasn't the worst thing to happen today. It pained her that Clarke was so emotionally drained that she fell asleep, not going through her usual bedtime routine or even waiting up for Madi. And she swept Clarke's damp hair back from her face, using her thumb to coax the pinch between her eyebrows to flatten and pressed kisses to her resting face until she heard the tell tale sign of a key in the door, indicating Madi's return.

After cladding herself in her blue bath robe, she found Madi in the kitchen. Looking dreamily towards the front door with a dopey smile on her face. Lexa raised an eyebrow, “Good date, little one?”

Madi, startled from her day dreaming, beamed at her mom, “Yeah, pretty good. Great , actually.”

“Did he kiss you goodnight?” Lexa teased, resting her elbows on the breakfast bar in order to lean closer to the teenager.

Madi blushed, eyes shifting around the room before she made Lexa chuckle with a subject change, “Where's mom?”

“Mom's asleep,” Lexa replied gently, her voice quiet to match the ambience of the lowly lit kitchen.

Glancing at the time, Madi's expression pinched in concern, “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, the baby's taking it out of her,” Lexa nodded, not wanting to worry the fourteen year old.

Madi seemed to accept the answer, instead turning her attention to her phone, “So Tari's at the skate park with her boyfriend and his brother...can I go hang out with them?”

The sweetness in Madi's voice did nothing to convince Lexa into letting her go. Madi definitely wasn't allowed out after ten pm, especially without adult supervision. And Lexa didn't like the idea of her hanging out at a skate park in the dark, or with any of Ontari's boyfriends ever. Not even to mention the fact that Clarke would murder her if she even thought about letting Madi go, “Maybe when you're thirty.”

The softness in Madi's expression faded quickly, as did the sweetness to her voice, “That's so unfair, Ontari's allowed!”

“Ontari's older than you,” Lexa countered, letting her years of mothering cloud her tone, “How about you let your mom recover from this outing before you ask for any late night passes, hm?”

“Whatever,” Madi growled, eye roll well practiced and overused as she stormed up the stairs, making sure to stomp her feet extra loud while she shouted over her shoulder, “Why don't you just lock me in my room?!”

“Your mother won't let me!” Lexa called after her.

- - - - - - - - -

Saturday morning brought Lexa an early wake up call from Indra, Alyssa wanted to come home. It was a usual occurrence with their youngest daughter, always wanting to be by Clarke's side and feeling out of place when she spent too long away. It wasn't that she didn't like spending time at Indra's house, Lexa knew that she'd be happy to go back there tonight for the cousin sleepover that had become a tradition for Saturday's, it was that this wasn't part of her regular routine and on a regular Saturday morning she'd usually wake up in bed with both of her mommies. So Lexa dragged herself out of bed quietly so as not to disturb Clarke and paused only once on her pursuit to the car in order to let Ralphie out into the garden.

Arriving at Indra's, Alyssa had been grumpy, overtired and whining about wanting to go home. And Griff had emerged from the stairs with bleary eyes and a concerned pout for his sister. Indra had only chuckled before ushering the boy to the car while Lexa carried Alyssa. But Indra could read Lexa and she could tell something was wrong. Lexa didn't know what to say, explaining the situation, that Clarke had seen her mom. That Abby was in Ton DC. And she'd left with Indra's reassuring words, telling Lexa that she'd be there at the drop of a hat if Clarke needed her and that she'd make sure she was available for any childcare duties if they needed them. Lexa really did appreciate her mom.

Both of the kids were fast asleep by the time she made it home and instead of waking them, she carried each of them to their own beds. Tucking them in and leaving them with kisses to their foreheads to get a few more hours of sleep. Making it back to her own bedroom, Lexa assumed that Clarke would still be out like a light, never one for early mornings. But she wasn't. Instead she was sitting up in bed, now clad in a loose, white, cotton shirt and her knees tucked up to provide a table for her sketch book. Lexa's reading glasses perched at the end of Clarke's nose and it made Lexa smile. Whenever she 'lost' her reading glasses nowadays it tended to be because of Clarke, the blonde often stole them to do the finer tunings of her artwork.

Clarke didn't even have to look up from her sketch to notice Lexa leaning in the doorway, instead speaking softly,

“Alyssa?”

“Yeah,” Lexa smiled, making her way over to crawl back into bed and ending up on her stomach with her chin resting on her crossed arms next to Clarke's hip, “She's asleep though.”

Clarke nodded, rolling her eyes briefly but there was no smile to be seen and that alone made Lexa frown. Nuzzling her nose into the side of Clarke's thigh in an attempt to seek out Clarke's eye contact, Lexa let her voice drop lower, “Are you okay, pretty girl?”

The concern in Lexa's voice did the trick and brought blue to green as Clarke set her sketch pad down on her side table, fingers coming up to weave themselves into Lexa's hair as her lips tipped upwards in a real, albeit small, smile, “I've got you, haven't I?”

Lexa grinned, leaning into the warm palm against her cheek and pressing her lips to Clarke's wrist as she whispered,

“Always.”

“Can we talk?”

Their attention got pulled to the voice in their open doorway and they were met with Madi. Still clad in her pajamas, shorts and an oversized t-shirt that made her small frame look even smaller, and an apprehensive expression on her face. Lexa scooted up the bed straight away, situating herself next to Clarke so that Madi had room to sit down but the teenager remained in the doorway, eyes on Clarke and a heaviness to her vibe that didn't sit well with Lexa.

“Of course, baby,” Clarke smiled warmly, spreading her legs and patting the space between.

After hesitating, Madi accepted the offer, climbing onto the bed and sitting cross legged between Clarke's feet. Her knees resting on Clarke's ankles and followed quickly by Ralphie as the golden retriever got comfy next to her, resting her head on Madi's thigh. Once settled, Madi's mouth opened and closed a few times but nothing came out. It was Clarke's hands on her knees that grabbed her attention.

“You can talk to me about anything, you know that right?” Clarke asked, a frown in her tone and Lexa knew that the answer being 'yes' to that question was beyond important to the blonde.

“I know,” Madi nodded, causing Clarke to sigh in relief, her eyes fixed on the comforter as she busied herself with untangling a knot from Ralphie's ear, “Jordan and I were talking...”

The teen trailed off, her tone quiet and overly reluctant. Lexa tensed right along with Clarke. She knew that Clarke's mind would be running with possibilities so she tried to calm her own, placing a comforting hand on the small of Clarke's back in an attempt to steady her.

“Why don't I know my dad?”

Lexa's breath caught in her throat. Out of all of the possibilities, she didn't think it would be this one. She knew this day was coming. Madi had asked questions throughout the years but she'd never been old enough to understand the intricacies involved in teenage pregnancy. Until now. Clarke was fairing no better. Mouth open and eyes wide. And the blonde took a long moment to school her features as her eyes searched her daughter's face, giving Lexa opportunity to attempt a mood change.

“When two people love each other very much, sometimes that love results in a baby and...” Her words, rehearsed by this point, got caught in her throat. Her lips tipped upwards in a sad smile as Madi sent her a soft, yet pointed look, letting Lexa know that she was too old for this story. And, Lexa supposed, she was.

“Like I buy the story about you getting mom pregnant,” Madi snorted, clearly trying to keep up the joke but her tone falling flat, taking on a serious edge along with it's softness and emphasizing Lexa's thoughts. Madi really was all grown up, in some regards anyway and she wasn't going to let Lexa's diversion attempts keep her from her truth seeking path anymore.

Still, Lexa had one last go at lifting the somber atmosphere, even if she knew her attempt was futile. Maybe she wanted to give Clarke another moment for composure, or maybe she just wanted to comfort herself and her daughter with familiarity one more time before the truth left them all with an ache in their chests.

“Hey,” She scolded gently, smiling as genuinely as possible within the heavy moment, “I try very hard to impregnate your mother.”

Her words made Madi's mouth grow into a one sided smile, even if it was small. And the fourteen year old gazed at Lexa fondly, a reply formulating in her mind but getting forgotten at the clearing of Clarke's throat, the blonde's voice coming out calm, “He wasn't ready to be your dad.”

The statement, true and simple, seemed satisfying to Lexa. She knew the details behind Madi's paternity and Clarke's words were the nicest way to put it. Madi didn't think so, her frown back in place, only deepening and her voice turning up a couple of octaves, “And you were?”

“I-”

But Madi wasn't finished, cutting her mother off as soon as the blonde opened her mouth, her previous softness gone and replaced with her rising temper, “I've done the math, mom. You were fifteen .”

Clarke recoiled immediately, expression flashing with hurt before quickly being replaced with a guarded carefulness. The silence that followed Madi's words was heavy, pregnant with possibility and it was only when Clarke let out a calming breath did Lexa realize that Clarke was having trouble calculating what she wanted to say, no doubt to tell the truth without hurting her daughter's feelings, “There was never a moment that I didn't want you, Madi.”

The words were spoken calmly but with a firmness that was laced with double meaning. And Lexa winced at the storm brewing behind Madi's blue eyes. How did one tell their daughter that their biological father never wanted to be apart of their life? Lexa could tell that Madi didn't understand and she didn't know what she preferred. For Madi to be angry with Clarke because of her lack of understanding or for Madi to read between the lines and know that her father didn't want her. Neither option was pleasant and she could tell that there was an argument brewing on the tip of the teenager's tongue. Only saved by the appearance of her younger sister as the little brunette made her entrance, clad in her own version of pajamas with her hand-me-down soccer shirt passed from Aden to Madi to her and a pair of black leggings that were standard for the four year old, day or night. All smiles and bed hair, oblivious to the tension as she situated herself in Clarke's lap.

“Whose farts are worser?” Alyssa babbled, talking a mile a minute and peering up at her three taller family members,

“Mommy's or Ralphie's?”

#

Madi groaned, the fight leaving her for the moment as she flopped onto her side, seeking comfort from Lexa by resting her face on Lexa's thigh, “Mom's when she's pregnant.”

Ralphie wagged her tail in agreement and the movement pushed Alyssa into a fit of giggles, spilling out over the skin of Clarke's chest as Alyssa pulled the neck down to bury her face between the motherly flesh. Her giggles contagious as Madi and Lexa joined her but Clarke remained stoic, still shaken by having such a conflict with her eldest daughter. Lexa did her best to comfort both Madi and Clarke. Fingers working their way through Madi's wild curls, her other hand dipping up the back of Clarke's cotton shirt to rub patterns into her skin.

Griff was next, still bleary eyed and clad only in his briefs, his hair sticking up in every direction as he clambered up onto the bed and wiggled himself into the space between his mothers. He blinked up at Lexa with long eyelashes and sleepy eyes, “What're we doing today?”

“Grandma's tonight,” Lexa mused, eyes sweeping over the six year old's face, “But I don't know. Family breakfast? What do you guys want to do?”

Griff frowned, glancing around at his siblings before cocking his head to the side, voice tentative and unsure, “Beach?”

“Beach!” Alyssa squealed, voice muffled since in the last few minutes she'd managed to situate herself inside Clarke's shirt.

“What're you doing?” Griff frowned, poking at his little sister through the material until Alyssa's head poked out of the neck hole.

“Talking to the baby, duh ,” Came her full of attitude reply.

“I'm up for the beach,” Madi agreed absent-mindedly, eyes flickering from Griff to Clarke, “As long as I can invite Tari and Jordan.”

Clarke nodded, grabbing her cell phone from the side, “I'll put a message in the group chat.”

For a moment everything stilled as Clarke typed away on her phone, expression contemplative as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth, a motion hardly noteworthy to most but one that told Lexa the previous conversation with Madi had left the blonde unsettled. Griff's head fell sleepily into the crook of Lexa's elbow, his breathing deep as he tried to blink the tiredness from his eyes. Alyssa went back to her soft chatter, aimed towards Clarke's stomach and muffled by the cotton shirt hiding her from her family's gaze. Lexa’s fingers continued their quest in working through the knots at the very ends of Madi's curls as her attention rested on the fourteen year old, watching the brunette getting lost in her thoughts. And Lexa worried for her, worried where those thoughts would take her, rightfully so as a moment later Madi sat up on the bed. Expression falling back towards darkness and realization clouding her eyes, it startled Lexa and Ralph enough for Lexa's fingers to snag on a tangle and for Ralph to whine at the jostle.

Madi's eyes narrowed as she fixed her pointed stare towards her blonde mother, words coming out accusatory and harsher than usual for the fourteen year old, “You don't even know who it is, do you?”

Lexa winced and Clarke's mouth fell open in shock, neither of them expecting that to be Madi's conclusion. Or for her to say it in front of her younger siblings. Griff tensed, frozen at Madi's bite. And with Ralph looking at Madi with a worried and curious eyes, it was only Alyssa who remained oblivious, keeping up the quiet conversation she was having with her unborn sibling.

“I think we should talk about this later,” Lexa suggested, rubbing a soothing hand down the length of Madi's spine, “When there aren't little ears.”

An indignant noise sounded in the back of Madi's throat as she pointed at Clarke, head whipping to each of her mothers, “But she- I- How many possibilities even are there?”

That question had Clarke's mouth snapping shut, expression turning thunderous as her mommy mode kicked in, “We're not doing this now. Take your brother and sister downstairs for breakfast, we'll be down in a minute.”

“But-”

“Now, Madi,” Clark cut her off, tone no nonsense and leaving no room for argument.

“Fine,” Madi grumbled, cheeks pink with the embarrassment of being told off and moodily grabbing Griff's hand to help him from the bed. Ralph following Madi's movements quietly, well aware of the tension. Madi turned to the lump in Clarke's shirt, “Come on, Lyss.”

Alyssa had difficulty resurfacing, making plenty of protesting grunts as Clarke fished her out, eventually lifting her top to release the four year old and giving Lexa a nice flash of full breasts in the process. And Alyssa scrambled down from the bed in haste to catch up with her already retreating sister.

“Madi!” Alyssa wailed, “Lemme hold your dumb hand!”

Clarke turned to Lexa, thunderous expression fleeting and leaving room for bemusement, “Did she just slut shame me?”

Lexa chuckled, pulling Clarke into her arms and laying them down so they were face to face. Eyes searching Clarke's expression, “I'll talk to her.”

“You will?” Clarke glanced up at her, expression softening and a lightness within her eyes that Lexa associated with sadness when it came to the blonde, “I feel really called out.”

“It was a long time ago, pretty girl,” Lexa reassured her, holding Clarke close with one arm while her free hand travelled the length of Clarke's side with a gentle caress, “You know who he is and that's what matters.”

“Still,” Clarke frowned, a pout coming to her face.

Lexa kissed it away eagerly, nudging Clarke's nose with her own once she did, “Did you sleep better last night?”

Clarke's expression softened even further at Lexa's concern, “No, the baby wakes me. I can't wait until it's out of me, then you can do the night feeds and I can finally sleep.”

“Don't be selfish, Clarke,” Lexa tapped her wife's hip, “I did my fair share when Ralph needed to go potty in the night, it's your turn now.”

The gasp caught in Clarke's throat as Lexa kissed her, their giggles spilling into the kiss at Lexa's cheek. Lexa was an involved parent but they both knew that Clarke did the brunt of it for the first year at least, breastfeeding and all. The blonde pulled back when Lexa's palm cupped her breast, gently so as not to aggravate the tenderness there, eyebrow ticking in question.

“What?” Lexa frowned, “Your mom voice really turns me on, you know this.”

“We have children to feed and a beach to get to,” Clarke countered.

“So you're not going to breastfeed me with those bad boys?” Lexa quipped, squeezing Clarke's breast before trying to doge the predictable, and earnt, smack coming her way.

“Do I have to use my mom voice on you too?” Clarke threatened, lips pursed in amusement.

Lexa groaned at the words, rolling Clarke over to situate herself between silky thighs and dipping down to catch Clarke's mouth in a hot kiss.

- - - - - - - - - -

Griff's suggestion of a trip to the beach turned out to be the perfect way to spend the sunny Saturday afternoon. Lexa had tried to convince Clarke to wear a bikini but the blonde had refused, instead going for a tasteful one piece and an oversized, white cover-up that was large enough to hide her baby bump entirely. Still, the one piece stuck to Clarke's ass in all the right places and the delicious view had Lexa feeling like the trip wasn't a total waste of time after all. And it wasn't often than so many of their family and friends were able to be in one place at the same time but after Clarke sent the group text, explaining their plans for the day, an abundance of them joined in.

Anya and Raven were a given, usually spending their weekends with the Griffin-Woods anyway, along with Ontari and Ilian. Octavia and Lincoln's plans to visit home that weekend had fallen through when Bellamy couldn't get the time he'd hoped for away from the marines. Octavia deciding that a trip to Polis, while almost nine months pregnant, to only see her controlling mother not worth it. Monty was working but Harper brought Jordan and Emori along. And Nyko and Charmaine made it with two out of their three children. While Zoran was nineteen now and away at college, Zoe and Hope at sixteen and twelve were wrangled into attendance.

Gabriel had even made an appearance, driving from the town over where he lived with his wife and kids. He hadn't been thinking about settling down until six years ago when his, now wife but then best friend – with benefits, Melissa told him that she was pregnant with their son. But six years later and he'd tell anyone that it was the best thing to ever happen to him. He loved his wife dearly, he'd always had feelings for her but never had the courage to tell her in fear of ruining their close friendship. He was a fantastic father too, to his five year old son, Ben and one year old daughter, Emma. They didn't make it over as often as they'd like but still managed to attend some of Indra's family Sunday dinners. Giving the kids a chance to bond and Gabriel time to catch up with everyone including his sister Gaia, who had stayed in Ton DC to pursue medicine.

Roan couldn't make it, much too busy with his mother's company after taking it over two years ago and entertaining his many flings to spend the day at the beach with a bunch of kids. And Luna wouldn't be back from her latest assignment for a couple of weeks yet, stationed in Namibia to photograph the Himber herder tribe.

Clarke had been on sunscreen duty that afternoon, the kids forming an organized line to be lathered in the stuff and once she was done, settled onto a beach towel with baby Emma in her lap. Much to Alyssa's dismay as she made her protests of being replaced known by kicking sand at her blonde mother but soon became distracted when seven year old Emori coaxed her into helping with a sandcastle she was building with Hope. The boys, Griff, Ilian and Ben spent their time splashing each other in the shallow waters of the ocean shore, paying no mind to any of their parent's warnings not to rough house and Ralph chasing them, eager to join in on the fun. Madi, Jordan and Zoe went on a quest to find lemonade, taking far too long for the heat and coming back grumpy and red faced after the excursions. And Ontari sat alone, a few meters away from the adults, seemingly in her own world and definitely not herself.

As the day commenced and the sun dipped lower towards the waters edge, people dispersed. First Gabriel, once Emma had awoken from her peaceful nap in Clarke's arms, fussy and wanting her own mommy. Then Nyko and Charmaine, wanting to drop their kids off at Indra's in plenty of time so that they could have a much needed date night. Lincoln took Octavia home once she'd started dozing off, supporting her in her waddle back towards their car and gracefully ignoring the quacking noises Raven was sending their way, something Octavia didn't manage and instead, flipped Raven the bird. And finally Harper, taking Emori by the hand and promising to see them soon with Jordan trailing behind them, sending sweet smiles Madi's way. It left Lexa, Anya, Raven and Clarke on their spread out towels. Clarke's sun kissed skin on display for Lexa to ogle and a cause for Anya to scoff. Griff and Ilian to busy themselves in their attempts to dig the worlds biggest hole, according to them at least. Madi and Ontari to chat idly by the ocean, far away enough so their mothers couldn't hear them. And Alyssa to situate herself between Clarke's legs, concentrating on piling sand onto Clarke's thighs, every now and then switching it up and trying to pile sand onto Ralphie's head as she slept peacefully next to Clarke, until she was stopped by Clarke's gentle hands.

“What's up with Ontari?” Lexa asked, focusing her gaze on Anya once she was eventually done thinking about all of Clarke's intimate places she'd find sand in later that night.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Anya huffed, but Lexa could see the insecurity seeping in. She sympathized greatly, it was hard to know that you were getting it right, especially when biology wasn't a factor in your parenting. Lexa always went by Clarke's example, biology or not, Clarke was an incredibly mother and hardly ever went wrong. She squinted sympathetically at her sister.

“She was fine until today,” Raven added, “Maybe a bit moody but that isn't exactly new when it comes to Ontari. Then today it's just been...she isn't angry , she seems lost.”

“Why d'we need boys?” Alyssa piped up, interrupting their conversation and directing her question at Raven.

“Uh...why do you think?” Raven frowned, clearly taken aback.

Clarke smiled, brushing the hair back from Alyssa's face as the little girl pondered the question, squinting in thought before her eyes lit up once she'd decided on her answer, “Maybe it's like broccoli. No one likes it but it's just there so we let it be and pretend it's as good as...as carrots but we all know it isn't. So maybe boys are just there , so we feel bad for them and let them kiss girls even though we don't need them to.”

Alyssa glanced around the speechless adults once she'd finished with her elaborate explanation, puzzled as to why they all looked so dumbfounded and tilted her chin towards Raven in question, hoping that her aunt would be able to fill her in on whatever she was missing. Clarke caught eyes with Lexa, raising her eyebrows and sending Lexa a pointed look that had Lexa rolling her eyes, very much aware that the look meant 'your DNA'.

“Spot on,” Raven nodded after a beat, “Good job, peach.”

Alyssa beamed at the praise and the nickname, pointing over at her brother for one last word on the subject, “They're funny too. Griff's funny.”

“Funny and broccoli-like, I couldn't have explained it better myself,” Anya added dryly, frowning at the little brunette before catching eyes with Clarke and motioning to her stomach, “This one's from your egg, right?”

“Hush,” Clarke scolded, pressing a kiss to her daughter's sandy forehead even as a giggle left the back of her throat. Leaning back, empathy filled eyes connected with Anya and then Raven, “I think Ontari will come to you if something's bothering her, you've raised her well and she knows that she can talk to you.”

“Thanks, Clarke,” Anya shot her a brief and rare smile, Clarke's opinion mattered to her, especially when it came to parenting, “I guess time will tell.”

“We have a teenager problem too,” Lexa offered, shifting herself into the back of Clarke so that she could wrap her arms around her wife's waist, “Madi's started to wonder about her dad...she blind sided Clarke this morning.”

“Blind sided?” Clarke scoffed, tilting her head to the side to look into Lexa's eyes, “She basically told me that I slept around too much to know who her bio dad is.”

Anya and Raven, ever sympathetic, burst out laughing. Equally amused at the turn of events and their amusement only doubling when Clarke glared.

“You think the who's my daddy talk is bad? Just wait until she finds your sex tape,” Raven quipped through her laughter.

Clarke's mouth dropped open, hands automatically covering Alyssa's ears as she scooped the sand covered child into her arms and leaning back into Lexa's embrace to shield herself from the embarrassment. And Lexa hugged her, trying her very best to suppress her own amusement by pressing her mouth against the bare skin of Clarke's shoulder.

“Sex tape?”

Their fun turned into shock within seconds as all four of the adults glanced up to be met with two sets of wide eyes as Madi and Ontari stared at Clarke. The teenagers were equally as stunned, mouths gaping and matching incredulous expressions on their faces. For a pregnant pause, no one said a word, but then Madi's face crumpled in disgust as she turned, running away from the adults and towards one of the rocked coves lining the beach.

“Holy shit,” Anya breathed out.

“Fuck, Clarke,” Raven grabbed Clarke's hand, “I'm so sorry.”

Lexa shook her head, pressing a kiss to Clarke's hot cheek before jumping up, “I've got her.”

Jogging across the beach towards the rocks that Madi had disappeared behind, Lexa thanked herself for her natural athleticism. If she were Clarke right now, she was sure she'd be working up a sweat and already out of breath. But she wasn't. And her body was used to running, even if sand was more of a work out than her usual sidewalk jogs, especially as Ralph took after Clarke and refused point blank to move altogether if Lexa set up a pace anything beyond gentle. She found Madi quickly. The girl sitting on one of the bigger rocks, feet dangling from the side and upset etched onto her face. Even so, she looked beautiful. Her style, a rainbow bikini top with cut off denim shorts, many fortune bracelets decorating her writs and a mane of unruly dark hair, only accentuated her beauty.

Lexa didn't hesitate before climbing onto the rock and sitting next to her eldest daughter, both of them looking out over the ocean. Madi may be fourteen years old now but she was still the same girl. She was smart, she was empathetic and she cared a great deal about the people she loved. Lexa's heart wrenched at the sight of her frown and downturned lips, knowing that Madi felt her emotions more fully than others and hoping that she could alleviate the teenager's worries.

“Mom send you?” Madi asked, tone clipped and eyes keeping the ocean in a steady grasp.

“No,” Lexa chuckled, leaning in to knock shoulders with the brunette, “And we both know she's not going to be running up the beach anytime soon.”

Madi's lips twitched upwards towards a smile, seemingly without permission as the fourteen year old schooled her features quickly. After a momentary pause, she spoke, voice soft and taking on a child-like edge, “Does she know who my dad is?”

“Yes,” Lexa nodded, tone firm and leaving no room for interpretation. She knew Clarke wanted to protect Madi from any hurt but she also knew that Madi deserved the truth. She'd been there herself. She knew what it was like to be fourteen and wonder about your biology, struggling with the difficulties of not being an adult but being expected to act like one - all while having zero control and she made the executive decision that Madi was mature enough to know the truth. Clarke could thank her later...or not, depending on the outcome, “She was your age when her dad died and she took it hard. She didn't have anyone looking out for her besides your aunt Raven and Raven was only a kid herself. When she got pregnant...she was fourteen , Madi. It was difficult for her but she always wanted you.”

Lexa's pause brought her Madi's gaze. Serious and proof that she was listening intently. Madi always took things seriously, she wanted to understand and she was listening to Lexa openly. And Lexa could tell that the teenager was trying to keep any previous judgements she had at bay.

“She had a one night stand with your dad,” Lexa continued, doing her best to keep her voice steady with the sensitive topic. This wasn't about her, or her opinion about how several adults had failed to protect Clarke. This was solely about Madi. And giving Madi a clear understanding of how she came about, “She told him about you when she was pregnant and he decided that he wasn't ready to be a father.”

The frown on Madi's face deepened as her blue eyes scanned Lexa's face for the truth, “He isn't on my birth certificate.”

Lexa nodded, understanding the confusion, “He was older, a college student. He would've gotten into a lot of trouble for sleeping with your mom and they made an agreement that she would keep his identity unknown and that he would sign over any rights he had to you.”

“Would he have been in my life?” Madi's eyes grew lighter, “If she hadn't kept him away?”

“She didn't keep him away,” Lexa said firmly, shaking her head to enunciate her point and wrapping a comforting arm around Madi's shoulders before putting it more bluntly, “She wanted him to be a part of your life because he's a part of you and he didn't want to. Your mom made that agreement to protect you, she never wanted your future to be uncertain.”

Madi's eyes met her toes and she scrunched them in the sand below them, fingers working on a loose thread of her shorts, a habit that she never outgrew. Silent for a long moment, she finally voiced her thoughts, tone quite and barely above a whisper, “Why did she even have me?”

Lexa's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the statement. Never would she have thought that Madi could think such a thing. She'd watched Clarke dote on Madi since the moment they were reunited and the idea of Clark e not wanting Madi for a moment seemed so foreign to her. She tipped her daughter's chin up with her fingers, seeking out the blue gaze she loved so much, “Madi, from the moment she knew about you, you became your mom's world.”

The tear escaped before Madi could stop it but Lexa was there to catch it with her thumb, swiping gently across Madi's cheek bone. And Madi fell into her embrace, pushing her face into Lexa's neck and cuddling into her chest. And Lexa held her tight, protecting her from the world and pouring her love into the hug.

“I know...I know how much she loves me,” Madi sniffled, voice muffled against the side of Lexa's neck, “I just...sometimes it's hard 'cause you guys had the others and I was just... there .”

Lexa frowned, pulling away so that she could see her daughter's face and clutching her shoulders to steady her, “Is that what you think? ”

“Sometimes,” Madi sniffled, bottom lip trembling and eyelashes dewy, “I know you love me but...Griff and Alyssa were planned, you were married and decided to have kids. I just came with mom, like a package deal.”

Lexa shook her head, cradling Madi in her arms once again, “Madi...I wanted you before your mom and I were even official. I didn't even know that you were your mom's until after I decided that I wanted to adopt you.” It was Madi's turn to pull back, frown in place and mouth agape, “You did?”

Lexa chuckled, nodding fiercely, “I was in love with your mom but I chose you first, I was just lucky enough to get her too.”

“I....I had no idea,” Madi shook her head, falling back into Lexa's arms and pulling her legs up to her chest, ending up in a foetal position in Lexa's lap as Lexa held her.

“I love you so much, little one,” Lexa cooed into wild, brunette locks. Pressing kisses to Madi's hairline and rocking them back and forth. It'd been a while since Madi let her hold her so fully and despite the somber conversation, Lexa was making the most of being able to hold her daughter like this, “We both love you so much. More than each other, more than anything .”

“I'm sorry,” Madi hiccupped, “This morning and...”

“Don't be,” Lexa hushed her, “It's okay to wonder about your dad...I wondered about mine too. I don't know who he is either.”

Madi tilted her head back, eyes as light as the sky above them, “How do you deal with it? Not knowing him?”

Lexa pursed her lips, hugging Madi tighter as she thought about her words, “It was hard but...I think I realized that for me it isn't blood that makes someone family. It's what they mean to me and what I share with them. I knew my mother but she was never my mom , that title is Indra's alone and Gus is the best dad a girl could ask for, you know? I didn't need anyone else.”

“Huh,” Madi mused, voice scratchy but tears largely at bay as she rested her head against Lexa's shoulder, “I guess...out of all of your family members, you're only related by blood to one of them.”

“That was your mother's doing,” Lexa chuckled, “And we're all paying the price.”

Madi laughed lightly before sinking into the warmth of Lexa's embrace. And they sat quietly, listening only to the sound of the waves crashing. Soaking in each other's company until Madi was ready to head back. There was no need for anymore words. They were equally content in the knowledge their talk provided. Madi, accepting new truths and Lexa, feeling proud of herself for such a profound parenting moment and even prouder of her daughter as she grew as a person and learnt new things about herself in the process.

They walked back to the others with dry eyes and their arms wrapped around each other. And once they reached their family, Madi sank to the ground, crawling into Clarke's arms with a sniffle.

“I'm sorry, mom,” Madi spoke softly, a wetness to her voice that she shared with her mother during times of upset, “I love you.”

“Oh, sweet girl. I love you too,” Clarke cooed, stroking the back of her head and wrapping her other arm around the teenager more fully. Her gaze meeting Lexa's in questions but the brunette just shrugged with a smile. Clarke didn't care, all she wanted was for Madi to know how much she loved her. So she slanted her eyes shut, cuddling her daughter close and whispering against her hairline, “I love you so, so much.”

At the sound of the rasp in her mother's voice, Madi pulled back with a chuckle, “Don't cry.”

But Clarke was already weeping, tears running from the corners of her eyes as she cupped her daughter's face, “I'm pregnant, what's your excuse?”

Madi shook her head, pulling her mom into another hug, “Nothing. I just have two incredible moms, that's all.”

- - - - - - - - -

With Anya and Raven offering to ferry their kids over to Indra's for the night, it gave Clarke and Lexa the perfect opportunity to wander hand in hand down the beach, the last of the setting sun warming their skin, to Picasso's. It was Clarke's favorite place in Ton DC. The entirety of the wooden café was small but it was always bustling, the atmosphere positive and the décor creating a beach-themed ambiance that made Clarke feel at home. From it's rustic, wooden windows to it's sandy, tiled floor the space was charming. It was somewhere that you could both spend curled up on the couch in the corner with a good book and take your kids for ice cream on a sunny day. Clarke was a frequent customer. In the summer she was always here with the kids and on dark nights and winter days Lexa often found her there with a steaming cup of cocoa and some unfinished artwork. The owners knew them well and always had a smile for the Griffin-Woods.

Clarke's smile was wide when they entered the place, one hand tugging Lexa along behind her and the other attached to Ralph's red lead, the difficulties of the day seemingly ones that she could wash away and leave in the ocean. And Lexa was glad for it. They still had some things to talk about, Clarke's mom and Madi's concerns, but for now Clarke was smiling and Lexa's promised vow was safe for another day. It'd been an easy vow to make, to make sure Clarke smiled every day, and one she took seriously.

“Quit staring at me like that,” Clarke's voice, laced with giggles, pulled her from her silent contemplation.

“Like what?” Lexa cocked an eyebrow, dutifully following Clarke and Ralphie to the counter where they'd purchase their drinks.

Clarke's elbows met the surface as she leaned forward, head tipped to the side and eyes dancing across Lexa's face, “Like I hung the stars or something.”

Lexa's lips quirked upwards and she stepped up behind her wife, briefly pressing her hips to Clarke's ass and leaning down to her ear, tone low and holding humor as well as a lilt of something for later, “Can't do that.”

As soon as Lexa had stepped away, she caught the light of Clarke's eyes as they rolled. The scoff leaving the blonde's throat incredibly unladylike, “You're such a dork.”

Lexa hummed, a smirk forming on her already smiling face, “You married this dork, what does that say about you, Mrs Griffin-Woods?”

Clarke's mouth opened, witty comeback sure to be waiting on the tip of her clever tongue, but Lexa was saved the savagery as the barista made an appearance. Taking Clarke's attention and doing his best not to ogle his next customer.

He was young, probably a college kid taking a job on the side for some extra cash, his face clean and his sandy hair floppy. He looked artsy in a way that seemed to be trying too hard to be natural. And his wide eyes, taking in Clarke, made Lexa snort a laugh. She was used to this, people taking one look at her wife and becoming instantly awestruck. She found it amusing. Lexa got hit on too, of course. But Clarke found that considerably less amusing and always staked her claim before anyone could get any ideas. Lexa was more relaxed about it, preferring to sit back and watch the events unfold. Especially when it came to cocky looking college boys thinking that they had a chance with her wife.

“Wow,” He said, running a hand through his hair in an obvious gesture to make the mess of it fall in the right direction. His eyes sweeping over Clarke appraisingly and mouth forming a crooked smile that Lexa could tell was supposed to be sexy, “Uh...What can I get you? A drink? My number?”

Lexa had to give it to him, the kid was bold. She wasn't sure whether she was going to put that down to cockiness or overconfidence just yet but she had high hopes for this one, he was sure to provide her with some entertainment.

Clarke smiled kindly, never one to knock someone's confidence if she didn't have to, “Two cups of coffee, please.”

“Sure, of course,” His grin widened, mistaking Clarke's friendliness as an invitation as he planted his hands on the counter, leaning forward into her space, “My shift ends in an hour...maybe I could take you out?”

Lexa had to stifle a laugh as she watched Clarke wince in sympathy, hand landing on her stomach and making a show of patting her bump, “Sorry...the little one makes me pretty tried in the evenings.”

His face dropped, eyes widening as they landed on Clarke's stomach. Lexa was sure that would be where her entertainment ended but to her surprise, the kid gave a weak smile. Gulping, he schooled his features back to friendly and shrugged, “I'm, uh...great with kids so we could still...wait, you haven't got a husband right?”

Clarke laughed, the noise light and airy as she shook her head, “No husband. You're good with kids? That's great, I've got three more at home.”

“Oh,” His face fell again as his eyes met the floor, sandy hair falling into his face, “Maybe we could just have some fun then...you're hot, I'm hot...”

He flashed Clarke a beaming, and somewhat charming, smile and Lexa had to admit, his persistence was sweet. Clarke seemed impressed too, pursing her lips to hold back her laugher as she tilted her head to the side, “I'll have to ask my wife.”

The boy's expression fell immediately, eyes wide and mouth agape but it didn't faze Clarke as she turned to Lexa. Eye's dancing with amusement and smirk firmly planted, “Babe? Mind if I have sex with this nineteen year old?”

Lexa burst out laughing, unable to contain her amusement any longer. Especially when Clarke flashed her a tongue in teeth smile. And the college kid stuttered, face tuning a deep shade of red and unable to make eye contact anymore, “Sorry, sorry. I'm sorry. I'll...uh, let me get you that coffee now.”

“Thanks, honey,” Clarke chirped, giggled to herself as Lexa pulled the blonde into an embrace.

Shaking her head, arms wrapped around her wife's waist, Lexa rested her forehead against Clarke's, “You're the worst, you know that?”

Clarke's smile only widened, taking a wicked turn, “I do what I can.”

“You're terrible ,” Lexa scolded, clicking her tongue and continuing to shake her head until Clarke's lips caught hers.

Pulling away, breath tickling Lexa's lips and a seductive glint in her eye, Clarke's voice was all husk, “What are you gonna do about it, stud?”

Lexa rolled her eyes, tugging Clarke along with her to take a couple of steps back from the counter. She didn't want to be in the way of any other costumers and she knew that their drinks would be brought to them when they found a table. Ralphie had to be roused from her sleeping state, flat out by Clarke's feet but it wasn't Lexa's fault that their dog made itself at home wherever they were at.

“Frisky are we?” Lexa tipped her head to the side, fingers splaying to feel as much of Clarke's warm flesh as possible, even if it was through her cover-up.

“Mhm,” Clarke nodded, bottom lip tugged between her teeth and eyes running across Lexa's face in the most sinful way imaginable, “And you better satisfy me quick, I've got other offers.”

Lexa quirked an eyebrow, gasping in mock outrage before her expression evened out into amusement once more, “Don't worry, Miss Griffin. I'll satisfy you good and proper when we get home.”

“Good,” Clarke nodded once, thumb stroking against the skin of Lexa's neck where her hands were resting on Lexa's shoulders and a pout making an appearance on her face, “But it's Mrs Griffin-Woods, don't forget it. I know I won't.”

“My mistake,” Lexa grinned widely, swooping down to kiss Clarke's pout away and pulling back to see the blues of Clarke's eyes taking on a more serious tone, full of vulnerability.

Clarke fidgeted within her embrace, hands stroking down to rest on Lexa's forearms and eyes low, “Thank you. For Madi, I mean.”

Lexa shook her head once more, eyes scanning her wife's face, “I didn't do anything.”

“You did,” Blue met green, Clarke's gaze open and loving, “I don't know what, but you definitely did something .”

Pursing her lips, Lexa gave Clarke a squeeze, “I don't know what you're talking about, Mrs Griffin-Woods.”

Clarke's eyes lit up, rolling them as she chuckled but soon fixing Lexa with depths of gratitude, “You're an amazing mom, Lex.”

Lexa shrugged, tugging her wife towards one of the booth seats and sending her a cheeky grin, “I learned from the best.”

Another eye roll and a giggle later and Clarke was perched on Lexa's knee, arm wrapped around her shoulders and lips pressed against her ear as Ralphie sniffed at Clarke's legs, “I'm going to sit on your face so good when we get home.”

“Jesus, Clarke,” Lexa chided, smile dancing at the blonde’s bluntness, but searching her wife's face to asses just how serious she was being. And when she found the promise within blue orbs, swallowing thickly, “I'm definitely not opposed to that.”

“Is that right?” Clarke teased, swooping in for another kiss but something stopped her and Lexa watched Clarke's expression go from teasing and light to anger and darkness within a second flat, “You have got to be kidding me.”

The growl in Clarke's voice made Lexa whip her head around in the direction of her wife's narrowed blues, met with a sight that winded her. For there was Abby, oblivious to their presence as she ordered from the same barista that'd hit on Clarke just moments before. Uncle Marcus leaning next to her with a small smile and his arms crossed. Abby looked older with some grey in her otherwise blonde hair but she also seemed less uptight. The way she held herself was as if she had less weight on her shoulders.

Lexa's only concern was Clarke. She turned back to her wife, ducking her head in a futile attempt to catch her gaze, “Do you want to leave?”

“No,” Clarke growled, angry eyes finally connecting with Lexa's, “I want some damn coffee. I get one cup of coffee a day and she isn't going to ruin it for me.”

“Clarke,” Lexa said gently, choosing to ignore the blatant lie and suppress the need to remind Clarke of the two cups of coffee she'd drained at breakfast, and pressing her free hand tenderly to Clarke's stomach as if to remind her of the treasure she held. Clarke getting stressed wasn't good for their baby and Clarke's expression softened immediately, hand falling on top of Lexa's and a sympathetic glance downwards. A silent apology to their baby for getting worked up.

Lexa was just about to ask Clarke again if they should leave when two things happened simultaneously. The sandy-haired college kid dropping off their drinks with a sheepish smile and red cheeks. And Abby clocking them, faltering in her relaxed demeanor before she was making a beeline for them. Lexa felt Clarke stiffen in her arms immediately and she pushed Lexa's hand away from her stomach, an obvious attempt at keeping their offspring hidden. And it seemed to work as Abby came to a halt a few steps from them, expression one of sorrow as she spoke.

“Clarke,” Abby spoke her daughter's name in a desperate husk, as if disbelieving that Clarke was even in front of her, “You're...you're here.”

Clarke's mouth fell open but nothing came out, words seemed to be eluding the blonde who just stared at the woman standing before her. It pained Lexa to see her wife so lost, the emptiness coming back into her eyes after all these years. It was a guard, a wall she built to protect herself. Lexa understood. But it unnerved her nonetheless, so used to seeing the openness dance in blue depths as they lit up brighter than the sky.

“We were just leaving,” Lexa offered once the barista was safely back behind the counter and out of hearing range, giving Clarke time to gather herself and close her mouth.

But knowingly, Abby gave a subtle, yet pointed, look at their steaming mugs on the table. Finally her gaze settled back on her, now more composed, daughter, “Can we talk?”

What was left of Clarke's composure was gone in an instant and her jaw tightened along with the fingers wound into Lexa's hair, “I have nothing to say to you.”

The acid-like spit of Clarke's words made Abby physically recoil but still, she took a step closer. Expression nothing but desperate, “ Please , if you don't want to talk to me then I understand....but please, just listen to what I have to say. I...I'll leave you alone after that if you want me to, but I... Clarke , please?”

Clarke looked at her then, blue meeting green and the hardness of her face softening at the edges. And Lexa knew. No matter how much distance there was between them, physically or emotionally, this woman was still Clarke's mother . And, however small, there was a part of Clarke that wanted to hear her out. So Lexa searched Clarke's pleading gaze, silently conversing and letting Clarke know that it was okay . That she was allowed to want that. That she'd be here to support Clarke no matter what. That Clarke wouldn't be alone . And with a tightening jaw and one last sweep over Lexa's face, Clarke turned back to her mother with a small and reluctant nod. Her eyes narrowing quickly at the sigh of relief from the older blonde and Clarke's quick tongue coming into play.

“Don't mistake my kindness for forgiveness,” Clarke spat, tone like ice, “I don't owe you anything .”

Even with Clarke's acidic words, Abby was visibly flooded with relief as she slipped into the booth seat opposite them. Uncle Marcus hanging back and finding himself a table to give them room to talk, Lexa briefly wondering if she should do the same but the thought only fleeting after one glance at her distressed wife. And Clarke slipped from Lexa's lap, sitting next to her. Reluctant and with a reserved gaze, her walls fully up. The only remanence of the girl Lexa knew so well, of her wife , in the way her body was angled into Lexa's. Hips askew and legs crossed, allowing a conversed toe to tuck itself between Lexa's shins. Her loyal canine at her heels, settling under the table and using Clarke's other foot as a pillow.

“Thank you, Clarke,” Abby spoke tentatively, gaze frantic and landing anywhere but on Clarke, “I...I don't expect your forgiveness, I know I don't deserve it.”

Clarke's eyes flashed with something at the words. Disbelief? Incredulity? Lexa wasn't sure, but she did know that Clarke didn't believe the words. And that was made clear when Clarke growled impatiently, “Talk.”

Abby's mouth opened and closed a few times, seemingly unable to gather her thoughts until she took a calming breath, eyes settling on Clarke's hands where they rested together on the table in front of her and tripping over her words, “I thought that maybe...if I tried to explain...it doesn't make it right, any of it, but...”

As she trailed off, Clarke's eyes narrowed, “Last time I saw you, you said that you never loved me.”

The reactive, desperate look in Abby's eyes hit Lexa hard. Abby's expression etched in regret, “I know...I did, I do , I do love you, Clarke...I held resentment, you took away my husband and-”

“You blame me for his death,” Clarke cut her off in an accusatory snarl, gaze sharp and unsympathetic. But Lexa could see the regret etched into every crevice of Abby's face, she could see the guilt within brown eyes. Could see the shame hidden in the bow of downturned lips And, if nothing else, Lexa believed her. She believed that Abby loved Clarke. She believed that Abby was sorry .

“No,” Abby said, a firmness in her voice that was imploring Clarke to understand, “I...before that, before he died...I never wanted kids, Clarke and you were the apple of his eye.”

“You were jealous?” Clarke scoffed, leaning back in disbelieve. Arms crossing over her chest in a protective stance and irritation nagging at her features, “You resented me for taking up his attention? That's so fucked up.”

“I understand that... now ,” Abby said, emphasizing her point by finally meeting her daughter's eyes, “Believe me, Clarke, if I had any idea...if, I didn't know , I couldn't see what I was doing.”

Abby's words hung in the air as their eye contact continued, intense and loaded. Clarke's breaths heavy from the emotional excursion and Lexa shuffled closer, pressing her stomach into Clarke's side for some kind of physical closeness. To be the steady presence Clarke could draw from. The irritation didn't leave Clarke, but the anger faded. It left the blonde on edge, lips pursed and expression nothing but guarded as she automatically leaned closer into Lexa's presence.

After a moment, feeling as long as it did heavy, Clarke's chin tilted upwards. Clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth, as if deciding to continue with the confrontation, she spoke pointedly, “I'm listening.”

Abby deflated, shoulders sinking and expression resigned as her eye contact fell, once again meeting the table. And Lexa waited with baited breath, getting the feeling that the truth was going to hurt. Abby's voice dropped low, words spoken with intent but reluctance too, as if she wanted to speak the truth but that it was a difficult fate to achieve, “When your father died I ...he was my everything . I know that should've been true for you, too. But at the time, it wasn't.”

Clarke's expression soured further, her foot bouncing nervously and scraping the skin of Lexa's calf with the sole of her shoe in the process but at least Ralphie's nap wasn't going to waste. It wasn't news to Clarke that her mother cared more for her husband than she did for her daughter. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt. And while Clark's expression shifted, giving off the appearance of indifference. Lexa knew better. She could feel the tension radiating from her wife in waves. She could see the minuscule details that gave away Clarke's hurt. The flare in her nostrils, the lightening of her eyes, the pinch in her brow and the twitch in her lips that accentuated her dimples. Lexa nudged her then, purposefully knocking her shoulder into her wife's back. Gently enough not to move her but hard enough to break Clarke from her tense demeanor as she sucked in a breath. Listening to the next words as they fell from Abby's lips.

“I'm not maternal...”

Clarke's scoff was loud. A rude sound that had Abby's eyes connecting, flashing with hurt even if they all knew it was true. And Abby continued, ignoring Clarke's interruption.

“...I know that, but...the way I was thinking wasn't right. It was warped, I know that now. I honestly thought that I was doing the right thing. I didn't think you could raise a baby and I didn't want you to ruin your life like I...”

Abby faltered, seeming to shock herself at her unfinished statement. Her expression etched with shame at both her words and Clarke's reaction to the mention of her daughter. It was inevitable really, that Madi would be brought up. And Clarke's reaction to such a thing was expected. Whatever small shred of openness was vanished in an instant as she recoiled, her whole body jumping away from the implication in a wince before she seethed, jostling Ralphie from her relaxed position in her wake. When she spoke her tone was nothing but acidic, the toxicity of her words spitting in retaliation like the mother bear Clarke was.

“Like you ruined yours?”

The statement hung in the air, tasting bad. The truth in the foul words seeping into each of them and wrapping around them like a curse. Abby didn't say anything. The only thing she could say was confirmation . But it was unneeded. They all knew how accurate Clarke's retort was. And they were frozen within the depths of it for some time before Clarke blew out a steadying breath, speaking more evenly than before.

“You took my daughter away because you didn't want her to ruin my life like I ruined your yours ?”

Unneeded, yes. But Clarke dug for the confirmation. Some part of her needing to hear it from Abby herself. And Clarke levelled her mother with a challenging glare until she did just that.

“ Yes ,” Abby hissed, desperate and raw. Like the words pained her to say. Her expression shifted then, taking on even more regret, like she was disgusted with the very idea of her words that followed, “I was trying to protect you.”

“The only protection I needed was from you ,” Clarke spat back just as quickly, expression giving away her anguish before it darkened.

“I know,” Abby whispered, blinking back unshed tears, “I know that now .”

Clarke ignored her words, ignored the mournful expression on her face as her fists clenched in anger, “And I never needed your input on what was best for me or my daughter.”

“I know that too,” Abby nodded solemnly. Taking a moment to breath, as if to steady herself before bringing her gaze to Clarke. Her smile was brief, weak and etched with sadness. Her words soft and full of agony, “The truth is you were a better mother than I ever was on day one, I just didn't see it...I didn't want to.”

Clarke turned her head away from the words, chin on her shoulder and loaded gaze on Lexa's face, fingers weaving through the silky hair of Ralphie's ears. Both tools used to gather herself, to soak in the steadiness that Lexa's comfort provided and seek reassurance from her loving hound. And Lexa squeezed a hip, an attempt to reassure her. She scanned her wife's face, quickly assessing how Clarke was in that moment. For Clarke's eyes were finally giving her the openness that she was used to. And all she saw was anger and pain. She pursed her lips, fingers stroking against the skin of Clarke's stomach and providing her with a life line. Hoping to help her calm down because, if nothing else, this stress was bad for the baby that lay under her fingertips, nestled in the safety that Clarke's womb provided. The anger was still there, bubbling just under the surface but Clarke gathered herself enough for it not to be at the forefront.

“You're right,” She said firmly, a finality to her words, “I am.”

The air lifted then. As if the brunt of their confrontation was over now that they'd found common ground. Lexa hoped so. Her loyalty and care was with her wife but there was something about Abby's dejected expression that had Lexa's gut clenching. She wasn't sure if Abby deserved to be forgiven, that wasn't for her to decide. But she felt sorry for the woman. Perhaps she was biased, she was definitely biased, but she still felt sorry for the woman before her. She knew what it was like to have Clarke in her life and it was heart breaking to even think about life without her, or their children for that matter.

The silence stretched. Abby taking reluctant glances at Clarke and Clarke trying to get a lid on her overly emotional state while blatantly ignoring her mother. Lexa was glad for the heaviness to have shifted though, leaving room for thought instead of only feeling as well as letting the previously alert dog tip back towards slumber. And it was Abby who broke the silence, words voiced so tentative that it peeked Lexa's interest.

“You and Lexa are still...?” The question was left open ended and Lexa understood why she'd been so reluctant to ask. Abby wanted to know things about Clarke, about Clarke's life but was scared of the very possible rejection. Lexa herself wasn't sure which way Clarke would go, but Clarke's lips twitched up, almost amused.

“Married,” She dead panned, lifting Lexa's hand to tap at her simple, white gold wedding ring for Clarke wasn't wearing her own, always getting reactive skin irritations when pregnant.

Abby gasped, eyes widening at the realization and regret flooding her features, knowing that she'd missed out on this part of Clarke's life. And Lexa felt even more sorry for her because it wasn't just Clarke's marriage that she'd missed out on but four little people growing. Yes, one of them had yet to surface but there were two whole lives that Abby didn't even know were in existence. She blinked at Clarke slowly before gaining enough composure to speak, “How long?”

Clarke smiled then but it wasn't genuine, instead a challenge held in her lips and her unforgiving gaze, “Eight years.”

Abby recoiled completely. Back flattening against the booth chair and expression pinching in anguish. Words tumbling out of her mouth sorrowfully and with such an edge of remorse that it made bile rise in Lexa's throat, “I've missed so much, I...and Madi, how's she-”

Lexa's eyes slammed shut in a wince as she felt Clarke tense up, seething with rage once more, “Do not say her name!”

Lexa couldn't hold back anymore. She wanted to stay out of this, she wanted to stay silent and only be a supporting presence but as Clarke's jaw clenched and she shook with anger, Lexa had no choice. Looping her arms around Clarke's waist, she pulled her wife into her side, voice low but firm in her ear, “You need to calm down.”

Clarke's head whipped to the side, retort ready on her tongue, “Lexa-”

“Need I remind you,” Lexa scolded, cutting her wife off with a sharp glare and tapping her belly for emphasis, Ralphie's ears pricking at the unusual firmness from Lexa. And she watched Clarke's retort die on her tongue as she deflated. Gaze downcast and kicking herself as her shoulders sagged.

She didn't realize that Abby had noticed the implications in their exchange until brown eyes widened, a gasp coming from across the table, “You're pregnant?”

Disbelief was swirling within brown depths and Clarke eyed her mother carefully as she gave a sharp nod, palm resting protectively over her stomach.

Abby's gaze flickered between them, mouth agape and expression nothing but incredulous, “With Lexa?”

“No actually, some guy I met at the gas station,” Clarke drawled, sarcasm dripping from her tone and leaning back in her seat with an eye roll, “Of course with Lexa.”

Thoroughly scolded, Abby swallowed thickly. The tears that had been steadily building since they sat down, threatening their escape, “I didn't think you'd have another.”

Whether it was the agony within her mother's tone or the utterly mournful expression on her face, Clarke's features softened slightly as she threw her mother a bone, “This is number four actually.”

“Oh,” Abby said, barely above a whisper and looking positively heartbroken, swimming eyes fixed on her lap and bottom lip trembling in a way that'd she'd passed down to her daughter and in turn her daughter had passed on to each of her own children, creating Lexa's Achilles heel in the process.

“I'm surprised you didn't know,” Clarke offered, tone staying even but not softening any further for the woman in front of her. This slight ceasefire, the reluctant softening seeming to be as much as the blonde could give. When Abby's questioning gaze met hers, Clarke shot a look towards the tables by the door, nodding at Marcus.

“He hasn't told me anything, he didn't want to pick between his family and me and...and I respected that,” Abby explained slowly and it was Lexa's turn to roll her eyes. When Abby shot Clarke a pleading look though, her focus went back to her wife, “Your kids...can I...will you tell me about them?”

Clarke recoiled, defenses coming up quickly as her expression darkened. But there was something within that expression, a desperation for her mother to know about two of the most important people in her life. But there was something holding her back from sharing. Something making her bite her tongue. So Lexa took over, extending as much of an olive branch as she was comfortable with in sharing something she knew that Clarke wanted to share. Clearing her throat, she leaning forward in her seat.

“Jacob and Alyssa, six and four,” Lexa said, eyes scanning the ceiling before bringing them back to the woman in front of her as Abby eagerly hung off of her every word, “He likes dinosaurs, she likes doughnuts...she takes after Clarke.”

Her quip fell flat, her intent to make Clarke smile. But Clarke's attention was elsewhere and the blonde looked just about ready to fall apart. Abby, however, was beaming with joy. Glancing at her daughter, she spoke only to Clarke, “Jacob, after dad?”

The mention of her father had Clarke's own tears slipping down her cheeks, the lightness of her blue eyes giving away just how upset she really was as she took a desperate gulp of air. Because underneath it all, Clarke was still the girl that cried when the thunder came, “What do you want from me?”

Abby was taken aback by the rawness of Clarke's tone, the rasp and vulnerability in her words. It was the most open Clarke had been since laying eyes on her mother and Abby was reaching across the table with a tentative hand, speaking steadily and with as much conviction as one could have while close to tears, “I love you. You deserved better. And I'm so sorry. I'll do anything I can to make it all up to you, Clarke...I just want to get to know you again.”

Clarke froze, staring at her mother's open palm blankly and hand pausing it's caress of Ralphie's head after the dog planted her head in Clarke's lap on her upset. The words, ones she'd been desperate to hear for so long. Except Clarke was older now and she no longer sought for her mother's appraisal. A fact that she drove home when a second later she was standing up, shaking her head as she stepped over Lexa and swiped at her eyes in her retreat. Ralphie dutifully on her heels.

“Please,” Abby called out, tone desperate as she grabbed a hold of Clarke's hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks, “I...I want to be apart of your life. Please , I...I'm your mom, Clarke, I-”

Angry, red eyes were on her in an instant as Clarke shot her an irate glare, the coldness to Clarke's expression making even Lexa recoil. Tugging her hand free and cutting her mother off quickly, “You may be my mother but it takes more than spitting someone from your crotch to be their mom.”

She was gone in an instant after that. Barely sparing either Abby or Lexa another glance as she hastily made her exit, abandoning her cup of coffee and their conversation. Ralphie's lead becoming taut as she tried to follow but restricted by Lexa's hold on her leash. Lexa was following her straight away, only encouraged by Ralphie's whine as she tugged against her leash, wanting to go after Clarke.

“Lexa, wait!” Abby cried out, her own tears wetting her cheeks.

Lexa turned to her with a hard glare, trying to make her loyalties known, “I can't help you, Abby. I'll always be on her side.”

“Please, I...” Abby gasped, choking on tears and pain evident in her expression as she pleaded in a last ditch attempt, “I want my family back.”

The words made Lexa look at her, really look at her. And what she found in Abby's eyes was something that knocked her for six. There was something about the desperate look within, something familiar and something sincere. And it wasn't surface level, it was deep, ingrained and personal. And Lexa searched, trying to understand what was so familiar about it. Once realization hit her, it was like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind from her. It was the same look that Clarke had carried all those years ago. The emptiness that Clarke felt within when she was without Madi. Lexa was frozen, blinking dumbly at the woman in front of her and seeing her as if for the first time, a mother without her daughter. The weight of it clawing at her throat and attempting to send a river down her cheeks before Ralphie decided to remind her of where they needed to be, of who needed them and, much to Ralphie's relief, Lexa turned away without a word.

She had to let go of Ralphie's leash once she'd made it outside, the dog too eager to rejoin Clarke to be waiting for Lexa's human speed. Lexa only had one goal, to catch up with and comfort her wife but she was stopped just a few feet from the door. And, since she'd managed to slap a twenty on their table earlier – an oversized tip or an apology for their dispute, she didn't know, knowing that it wasn't the barista there was only one person that it could be.

She spun on Marcus with a scowl on her face and a bite to her tone, “Some nerve you have, showing up here with her.”

Holding up his hands in defense, he nodded, tone gentle and his usual ease relaxing her slightly, “You can't help who you love, Lexa...surely you know that.”

The double meaning of his words had her straight back on edge, gritting her teeth as she hissed, “How dare you use my relationship with Clarke to prove a point.”

“I'm sorry,” He nodded, eyes meeting the floor before fixing on her again, his expression open and his eyes kind, “I guess on some level I just thought that your relationship was sparked by how you met, I...I guess I didn't think it would last.”

“It was never about that,” Lexa dismissed with a shake of her head, lips pursing. It irked her. The thought of Marcus, or anyone, thinking that their relationship was fueled by the taboo aspect of their meeting. Anyone who spent any time with them would know differently. But she couldn't exactly blame him. Clarke and her had decided to be together despite the glaringly obvious reasons not to and they were both adult enough to take the consequences of that. Still, she couldn't not defend her relationship, even if it was just to correct the misconception, “Clarke and I would've ended up together regardless of how we met.”

He nodded, accepting her answer with a smile as he stuck his hands in his pockets, a clear indication that he felt like they were reaching more even ground, “I understand...I'm really happy for you, Lexa.”

For a moment Lexa watched him, taking a second to remember that he wasn't the enemy. But, more than anything, Lexa wanted to comfort her wife. So she sighed, letting the attitude slip away and leaving her with only softness, “Uncle Marc, I don't have time to-”

“Wait, Lexa,” He cut her off, scrubbing a hand over his neatly trimmed beard, “Look, I don't want to be piggy in the middle. I don't want to be involved with this but Abby...I just, I want you to know that she understands what she did. Really understands. She's been going to therapy for years to understand, to work on herself and all she wants is to be in Clarke's life.”

Lexa stared at him blankly, the new information making her understand just why Abby seemed so different to the cold, detached woman she'd met years ago. With time and professional help Abby had gained insight into her actions but Lexa wasn't sure that it would be enough. Abby had hurt Clarke beyond belief and Lexa just didn't know if Clarke would even consider letting Abby back into her life. She couldn't say anything, she didn't have the answers so all she could do was stare.

After a moments pause, Marcus sighed, “Just...think on it. Take it into consideration. That's all.”

Frowning, Lexa was reluctant. She couldn't promise that Clarke would be willing to try. She could only promise the she would support Clarke. But that support, included giving Clarke all the information she had as well as helping Clarke to consider all her avenues. So she nodded, small but firm. Trying to ignore the pang in her gut caused by Marcus' relieved smile. She didn't wait to see if he had anything else to say before she left at a jog, she needed to be with her wife.

- - - - - - - - - -

The silence of the commute home told Lexa everything that she needed to know, that Clarke needed some space. And Lexa gave it to her. Clarke had been that way ever since she'd waltzed into Lexa's life with a naughty smirk and sparkling, blue eyes. Needing time alone to process things, self preservation was important to Clarke and sometimes that meant solitude. In the past it would’ve also meant a bottle of vodka, followed up by a party or two. But nowadays her techniques only required a herbal tea, which Lexa usually provided, and an episode of Celebrity Chef. Lexa was the only one allowed to step foot into those private moments, the moments that were made up of Clarke unpacking her thoughts and attempting coherence, but she never pushed. She knew she wasn't intruding, Clarke's need for solitude had shifted over the years to welcome Lexa's presence into her times of need, but Lexa always found better results in comforting the blonde after she'd given her some time to herself.

Lexa had always done most of the cooking in their relationship. Something Clarke had never quite been skilled in. And she never minded, God forbid their kids ever have to survive pop tarts and breakfast nachos. So she busied herself in an attempt to taper her own worry and calm her own nerves after such a tension filled conversations, throwing together a dish of roasted vegetables. She knew that Clarke would roll her eyes and pull a face at the excess of sweet potatoes, they weren't to Clarke's taste after all, but they were vitamin A rich and that was essential for the health of the baby that grew in the safety of Clarke's womb. A fact that Lexa would remind Clarke before attempting to hide her amusement as the blonde grimaced and winced her way through the orange vegetables.

Clarke, as Lexa expected, was sitting on the couch by the time she popped her head around the door. Herbal tea drained, mug resting on the coffee table. Celebrity Chef playing in the background, not being paid attention to. Clarke's posture was stiff, arms crossed as well as her leg and foot bouncing. A frown on her face that was both thunderous and cute as hell. And all Lexa wanted was to see the return of Clarke's smile, something she always mourned when absent. Her world never felt right without it.

Rolling her shoulders to relieve the last of her tension, Lexa stepped into the room fully, a genuine smile creeping to her lips, “You know, with all the cooking shows you watch, you'd think you'd know how to cook.”

“Yeah?” Clarke snapped, foot bobbing in anger and words snide, “Well you'd think, with all the porn you watch, you'd know how to fuck .”

“ Clarke !” Lexa retorted in an amused gasp. Stifling a laugh at Clarke's attitude, Lexa took another brave step towards the blonde in order to lean her elbows against the back of the couch.

Clarke pursed her lips, waving a dismissive hand in Lexa's direction as she excused her bite, “Baby hormones.”

Lexa leant down towards her wife's ear, grin spreading across her face as she voiced gently, “You can't blame everything on the baby.”

“Yes I can,” Clarke snorted in disagreement.

“But some things are just because you're a bitch, darling.”

Lexa dodged the oncoming smack, sure it would've been a corker and dove over the back of the couch, tackling Clarke as she went and situating them on their sides as Clarke giggled through her protesting squeals. Lexa ended up with Clarke firmly in her embrace as the blonde's laughter simmered, leaving only a pout. Their legs intertwined and their breaths mingling within their proximity.

“Asshole,” Clarke muttered under her breath.

Lexa scanned her wife's face, taking in the frown creased between eyebrows that she'd love to smooth out with her thumb. The expressive, blue eyes laced with turmoil and swirling with raw hurt . She tugged Clarke closer, one arm looped under Clarke and around her waist, hand splayed on the small of Clarke's back while the other palmed her bare thigh. Whispering words against Clarke's cheek as she pressed her lips there, “Talk to me, angry girl.”

Clarke's head tipped back, away from Lexa, in order to shoot her an unimpressed look, eyebrows raising and nostrils flaring, “Angry? So I'm not even pretty anymore?”

Lexa shook her head, lips tipping up as she pushed Clarke's hair from her face, “ Always pretty...sometimes pretty angry.”

Clarke's pout came back in full force, eyes low and hands smoothing over Lexa's chest. Her internal battle raging behind her eyes and her words soft, a wetness to them that had Lexa squeezing her more fully, “I don't think I can do it, Lex.”

Hand falling back to Clarke's thigh, Lexa tugged the back of it, pulling Clarke's leg over her own, “It's okay if you can't.”

Clarke's eyes, narrowed and defensive, sought Lexa's in a sharp gaze, “Is it? Because I feel like a bitch.”

“You aren't ,” Lexa said with a firm shake of her head. She searched Clarke's face, looking for answers that she already knew weren't to be found. Taking a deep breath, relaxing on the exhale, she nudged Clarke until blue met green, “The history...Clarke, I can't imagine how you feel but there's no right answer here, not with this.”

Silence followed Lexa's words. For a long time, Clarke's eyes left Lexa's, instead focusing on a thread of cotton being tampered with by the blonde's fingers. Clarke's expression dark, unknowing and the battle within her only amplified within blue, searching orbs. When Clarke spoke her volume was barely there and Lexa wouldn't have heard her save for the fact that they were only a hair breaths away. Clarke's eyes met the ceiling before they met Lexa's, the blue light in a way that Lexa was only too familiar with by now, “I think about Madi...about what my life would be life if she wasn't a part of me. To not know her and...I can't. Lex ... part of me thinks that my mom must care, the letters...her showing up here...”

As Clarke's murmured words tapered, Lexa nodded in understanding. She felt nothing but empathy for the wonderful blonde filling her arms. And her mind drifted, within the stretched silence, to the letters. The letters that had never stopped arriving. And although Clarke had never been able to bring herself to read even one of them, Lexa knew that her wife yearned to find the strength to hear her mother's written words. Lexa couldn't offer her a solution, not that Lexa even had one. All she could give Clarke was her full support and perhaps a more objective perspective, “Marcus stopped me on the way out. He said that Abby has been going to therapy for years...maybe she really has changed.”

Blue met green, Clarke's eyes glassy and searching for the truth, “Do you really think people can change, Lex?”

With an innocence to Clarke's gaze, Lexa swallowed thickly, giving herself a moment to chose her words carefully, “I think people are capable of growing...of learning .”

Clarke's frown deepened as she took in the words, eyes still searching Lexa's, “What about her?”

“I don't know,” Lexa replied softly, apologetically, “But she seemed genuine today.”

Clarke's expression shifted, taking on a more pensive tone. For a long moment she seemed lost in thought before her face pinched, “So I should just forgive her then?”

Giving Clarke's hip a firm tap, Lexa brought the blonde back from the swirling bad thoughts clouding her eyes. She spoke firmly, her own eye contact imploring Clarke to understand, “No. This is your decision and it's completely understandable if you can't do that, Clarke.”

Clarke swallowed thickly, the lines of her face softening along with her voice, “Would you forgive yours if you had the chance?”

Lexa recoiled from the question. She wasn't prepared for it and it took her a moment of breathing Clarke in to steady her racing thoughts. She remembered the good times. The years that her biological mother remembered her birthday and took her out for a rare meal at McDonald's, somewhere Lexa would have never picked herself but since they never went out to eat an exciting outing nonetheless. The times when she was really young, memories or wishful thinking down to her mother's story telling she wasn't sure, that they'd take trips to the zoo. Her favorite animal apparently being the zebra when she was little. The times when her mother would treat her and let her buy a couple of new clothing items for school instead of the too big and itchy, thrift store items she usually wore. And her most valuable memories at all, the ones that didn’t require gifts to make her smile, the Saturday morning breakfasts they'd have together when her mother wasn't too hung over, cooking and singing and letting Lexa make up her very own recipes using whatever mismatched ingredients they had in the cupboards.

The bad times came next. There were so many more of them. Really it was just a stretch of bad years with a few good times sprinkled within. She remembered being cold all the time, her thread bare blanket never able to keep out the chill from her dimly lit room or her malnourished bones. She remembered being hungry and having to fend for herself, asking her mother usually resulting in a slap to the back of the legs and a snarled comment asking her when she was going to start contributing. She was sure that if it wasn't for the sweet old man that lived a couple of floors up, taking pity on her and giving her leftovers every once in a while, that she wouldn't have survived so long. She remembered being scared. Scared of the shouting that would come from the kitchen and keep her up at night when her mother had a boyfriend over. Scared of the boyfriends themselves, never pleasant and always a person to avoid. Scared that there was nothing better out there. That this was how her life was always going to be. That she could do no better. And that one day, because of the cold or lack of food, she just wouldn't wake up and no one would even notice. She was sure that her mother wouldn't, not for a while anyway.

Most of all she thought about all of those home visits. When some nosy neighbor , as her mother would call them, would call up child services and they'd send someone out to the apartment that was never a home. She thought about how her mother would pull twenty dollars out of thin air and send her down to the convenience store with a list. How when Lexa got back, legs wobbling from the weight of the grocery bags, the apartment would be cleaner and neater than it ever was before and Lexa would watch her mother fill the fridge with all of the fresh food that Lexa's little legs would carry – her mouth watering at the thought of getting to eat them. She thought about how her mother would shove her into a cold shower and tell Lexa to scrub herself while she rifled through the bottom draw of her dresser, coming up with a pristine dress that she would stuff Lexa into while hissing at her to puff her stomach out when their visitor arrived unless she wanted to be taken to the dog pound for being too skinny.

She thought about the C.P.S ladies, all ladies and all wearing kind, warm smiles that later reminded her of Indra. She thought about sitting, pressed into her mother's side, and keeping quiet because she was so scared of being taken away. Her mother had told her on more than one occasion that if they thought Lexa was sad that they'd take her away and put her where the bad children go, that she'd never see her mother or anyone she loved ever again. She thought of how she nodded obediently every time she was asked a question, her mother's talon like fingernails digging into her shoulder, an unnecessary reminder to do as she was told. She remembered the questions, spoken softly and with an unfamiliar lilt that she'd later recognize as concern. Did she get fed three meals a day? Yes. Did she feel safe? Yes. Did she get help with her homework? Yes. She knew the drill.

She thought about child protective services never staying long. She remembered scowling at their cars through the window after her mother had charmed them. She remembered wanting to go with them and banishing her own thoughts, her own cries for help, in fear of ending up in the place where the bad children went. She remembered listening to her mother rant about how she should be grateful for such a good mother when she didn't even deserve it while she watched her mother pack all of those delicious groceries back into the bags they came in. She remembered her stomach rumbling painfully and her skin itching, back into barely wearable clothes as her dress was saved for next time, when she was pushed back out of the front door to return them to the store. She remembered there always being a next time.

She remembered the fear making her shake and the sweat dripping down her back, making her clothes even more itchy, when she'd asked the woman next door what to do when her mother wouldn't wake up and that woman had called the cops. She remembered feeling numb, like an empty vessel as a C.P.S lady led her to a blue sedan, sirens and flashing lights surrounding her and her old blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She remembered sitting silently in the back seat, watching the rain dripping down the windows as the world went by, waiting for her inevitable fate of ending up the place for bad children. Because, after all, this was all her fault. And she remembered the all consuming rage over her mother's lies when she realized that there was better. An anger that followed her into her teens until she was finally able to let it go.

So would Lexa ever be able to forgive her mother?

The stroke of delicate fingertips against her cheekbone brought her back from her rapid thoughts and sunk her straight into blue. Clarke's voice a warm tickle against her lips, “I'm sorry, that wasn't fair.”

“I think I have,” Lexa whispered after a beat, anchoring herself within the familiar blues. She swallowed against the tears coating her throat, letting out a shaky breath and giving in to Clarke's all seeing gaze, drawing strength from it, “She wasn't capable of being a mom...I think I've forgiven her for myself, so that I didn't have to carry that weight around...”

For a moment, Lexa paused, letting her words hang in the ripened air and watching a frown come to Clarke's face, eyes glazing in thought. When she finished her sentence, she waited for the blue eyes that she loved so deeply to clear, to take on the openness she sought, “...but I would never be able to accept her back into my life.”

Clarke's eyes were on her more fully then. Clutching at her, pulling at her and shining with a vulnerability that was so rare for the blonde that in all their years together Lexa had seen less than a dozen times. And she braced herself along with her wife as best as she could. Gripping the parts of Clarke that were available to her in an attempt to ground the blonde for the next words she spoke.

“But...” Lexa paused, taking a moment to run the tip of her tongue across her dry bottom lip and giving herself an extra second to find steadiness in her voice. Her gaze fixed on Clarke in hopes to provide Clarke with a life line, if she needed it, “No matter what you decide...I think that the kids should make their own choices.”

Clarke's recoil was immediate and expected. Her expression darkening and her words quick, emanating the shortness of her temper when it came to her admirable protectiveness over her children, “What?! I don't want that woman anywhere near my kids!”

Pulling her fingers from Clarke's thigh, she wedged them between their bodies to press tenderly into the blonde's pregnant stomach, levelling her with a firmness she saved only to implore reason, “ Our kids.”

The gentle reminder had Clarke's mouth dropping open as the fight left her. Leaving her eyes guarded and light even as she relaxed into Lexa's arms with a defeated sigh, “I don't know, Lex.”

“Maybe not the little ones,” Lexa said gently, pulling Clarke closer and waiting to catch her after the inevitable flinch that her following words were sure to cause, “But Madi...Madi is old enough to decide for herself.”

If Clarke's expression was guarded before, then now it was guarded so fully that Lexa could barely glimpse anything beneath. And Lexa mourned the openness, the expressive gaze that she was so used to when it came to her wife. A moment of loss that tugged on her heart strings, Clarke hiding her vulnerabilities from Lexa, once a common occurrence, a need , a necessity. But now only succeeding in halting their progress. Something that Lexa would work hard to eliminate. She never wanted to live in a world without having access to Clarke's receptivity, without the vulnerabilities dancing openly within bright, blue eyes.

After searching, blue eyes scanned Lexa's face, Clarke gave a small, barely conceivable nod. The stiffness in her body raiding her unease and her expression pinched. But in the next moment, Clarke's fingers were pushing the back of Lexa's neck as her expression softened towards pleading, eyes leaving loaded glances on Lexa's lips. And Lexa knew exactly what Clarke wanted. Needed . And she was only too willing to give in, to give Clarke whatever it was that she needed to feel okay. She caught Clarke's lips without a moment of hesitance, caressing them with her own in a needy kiss that served a reminder that she needed this just as much as Clarke did. And pulling back momentarily to switch angles, Lexa found exactly what she'd been searching for in the clearing of Clarke's gaze, making way for the usual openness that they both found comfort in.

There was no need for caution, neither one of them needed to hide behind the pretense of taking it slow. All it took was for Lexa's fingertips to travel the length and inside of Clarke's thigh before the blonde was straddling her fully, grinding their hips together and kissing her feverishly. Each giving as good as they got with every tug, nip, bite and moan. Lexa's hands gripping Clarke's hips, the material of Clarke's coverup grazing her palms.

“I love you, Lexa. Make love to me,” Clarke said. Pulling back to reveal the unshed tears in her eyes, the lightness to them and the deepness to her expression.

It was the unshed tears that had Lexa cupping her cheek, leaning up on her elbow to get closer to the blonde's face and being completely unable to escape the giggle from falling from her lips, the giggle that made Clarke frown.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Lexa shook her head, smile soft and thumb caressing the skin of Clarke's cheek, “It's just...you've come a long way from the girl that didn't do feelings.”

Her words caused a smile to grace Clarke's lips, head tilting into Lexa's palm as she met Lexa's gaze with the heaviness of her own, “I met a girl that only fucks for love and she taught me what life was really about.”

Sitting up, Lexa wrapped her wife up in a hug, brushing their lips together and whispering across her skin, “I love you so much, pretty girl.”

The tears that slipped down Clarke's cheeks soaked into Lexa's hair, Clarke's grip on her painful and Clarke's thighs pressed against her stomach uncomfortably. But Lexa didn't care. All she cared about in that moment was making her wife know that she wasn't alone. That she would never be alone. Not if Lexa could help it. And she cherished any and every moment she got with Clarke, even tear filled ones that led to Clarke's naughty smirk breaking the heavy mood before the blonde mauled her.

Soon her fingers were tender in their journey up the sensitive skin of her wife’s thigh. She always felt lucky when she found herself in a moment of intimacy of Clarke. Touching her wife when no one else was allowed. Eliciting moans and whimpers exclusively for herself, because of her. And that luck only swelled in her chest when eyelashes, dewy with tears, fluttered closed on impact and pale thighs fell open in accommodation. Seeing Clarke like this, vulnerable and pliant in her arms, hers to wield, only made her love the blonde even more. It was symbolic - a pregnant emphasis on the built trust between them.

With Clarke’s leg, curling around her hip, and her hand wedged between them, fingers splaying on hot skin, her lips grazed wet cheeks, kissing away the dampness as her deft fingers slipped Clarke’s bathing suit to the side. She tugged Clarke closer by the waist, eliminating all of the space between them that her belly would allow. Dragging her fingertips through velvet heat, she caught Clarke’s groan with her lips, the breath hitting the back of her tongue and spreading warmth around her mouth.

She didn’t waste any time, her growing need for her wife not allowing her to. She didn’t think there’d ever be a point in time when her want for Clarke lessened any. It was unimaginable to her. She wanted Clarke with her entire being. And yes, romantically, soul baring-ly, yes. Absolutely. Clarke was her world, her person to orbit around and exist near, the very air in her lungs. But sexually too. Raw, passionate and all consuming to the point of no return. She burned for Clarke. Possessive and un-stabling until she fell into the very arms she desired.

Wiggling the arm lodged under Clarke, she trailed her hand across a hip, up an arm and brushed blonde hair back from a jaw, letting the tips of her fingers graze against a pulse point as the fingers of her other hand sunk knuckles deep. Clarke’s hiss came out harsh, teeth snagging on Lexa’s bottom lip in retaliation as her hips canted forward, asking for more in a desperate buck.

Blue eyes fluttered open once again, captivating Lexa’s in one, longing glance. The intensity of Clarke's gaze distracting Lexa long enough for Clarke to shift forward grinding her needy cunt into Lexa’s palm and gripping her buried fingers in a tight squeeze. The action causing Lexa to pant against her wife’s teeth. Clarke never failed to turn her on and Clarke’s eyes, full of desire, her thighs clenching around Clarke bare one, pulling it further between her legs for a delicious press against her denim covered centre - and some much needed relief.

“Lexa,” Clarke breathed out, raw and hoarse, tempting Lexa into action.

She gave in. Fingers tightening in the hair at the back of Clarke’s neck, fisting and gripping to the point of dominance. Using the leverage to clash their mouths together, losing sight of those blue eyes but only regretting it for the seconds it took for Clarke to match her demand, kissing her back feverishly and with a bite that set Lexa on fire. And she begged for more, bruising Clarke’s lips with the demand of her own. Unrelenting and possessive, and only softening when Clarke’s delicate fingers met her jaw, thumb soothing her with a simple, grazed caress.

I’m here. I’m here and I’m yours.

Clarke never ceased to amaze her. Even in times like this, Clarke was still there to catch her. Even if she was a little impatient, squeezing Lexa’s fingers as a not so gentle reminder as their kisses grew soft and languid. Lexa wasn’t sure how long her sunken digits had been neglectful of their molten depths, but the firm press of Clarke’s slick walls was enough to gain her attention.

She couldn’t resist the temptation to sink her fingers a few more times, even if she was trying to pull out, but eventually her coated fingers were stroking through soft skin with a glide only obtained by such slickness, pausing at her target and drawing lazy circles. She was rewarded with a low groan, the sound laced with sex and pouring straight into her mouth from the very back of her wife’s throat. And she revelled in her wife’s readiness. Insatiable and ever responsive as she was.

Her fingers moved in a gentle tease, using their state of saturation to move over Clarke’s neediness in a barely there tease. And thoroughly enjoying the tender movements, sure that her impatient wife was only moments away from kicking things up a few gears with a demanding growl or sharp heal in the back of her thigh. Her free hand travelled, fingers detangling from blonde hair, skating the length of Clarke’s spine, curling around her fleshy hip to pull her closer. And causing the soft part of Clarke’s thigh to press against her own hip, hot skin pressing where Lexa’s shirt had ridden up and Lexa couldn’t help the moan from sounding from her chest, the feel of supple flesh gripping her waist overwhelming.

She rocked her hips into Clarke’s other thigh, the one still between her legs, unable to supress her need for friction and the rough drag of denim against her was just right. The feeling so relieving that she barely cast a thought towards the sensitive skin of Clarke’s thigh getting the rough treatment from her jeans. Clarke didn’t seem to mind though, instead focused on sucking Lexa’s tongue into her mouth while moving just enough to tilt herself into the presence of Lexa’s tender touch.

A fleeting thought had her grinning into Clarke’s mouth. Here they were, married with kids, in their thirties and still going at it on the couch like a couple of randy teenagers. Still, with her fingers sticky with her wife’s desire, her own need burning within her and the amusement swirling within blue eyes as Clarke claimed her mouth in lazy, open mouthed kisses - Lexa wouldn’t change a single damn thing.

“Fuck me, Lex,” Clarke whispered against her lips, hips wriggling to drag her need over slippery fingers.

Clarke’s nails, biting into the back of her neck, made Lexa growl. The press of her hips growing urgent as well as her growing need to be inside her wife. To sink into the heat fully and claim Clarke once again. To possess her fully. Inside and out. And with one last nip to Clarke’s bruised lips, Lexa did just that. Digging two fingers deep, without pause and creating a hitch in Clarke’s breath that Lexa felt trembling through the blonde’s body.

When Clarke’s eyes fluttered open they held promise. Promise that Lexa’s punishing thrust indicated. Promise that Lexa was going to fuck her. Fully. Thoroughly. Her lidded gaze waiting for it as well as the expectant jolt of her hips. Her grip on Lexa’s fingers needy and pulsating, ready to be filled and stretched the way only Lexa knew how.

Only Lexa wasn’t done in her savouring. The tips of her fingers buried and twitching in their stroke of Clarke’s velvet inner walls. Not even the widening of Clarke’s stretch, preparing to be pounded and sinking Lexa’s fingers just that little bit deeper, slickness pooling, urged her on. Instead, she gripped Clarke to her, nosing across her cheek until she met the mess of blonde waves, inhaling the scent that’d meant home to her for some time now and palmed Clarke’s heat in her hand. Fingers buried deep and the heal of her hand grinding Clarke into her possessive grip.

It only took three gentle, loving thrusts before the inevitable happened, and Clarke’s impatience grew thin with a growl. Lexa predicted it. Clarke was an impatient woman, especially when it came to a delay in her pleasure. And Lexa mourned the loss of control, but only for a moment. Only long enough for Clarke to straddle her thigh, taking her rightful position on top and with Lexa’s hand still squashed between them, impaled on her fingers. And Lexa found a whole new array of things to appreciate.

Clarke’s eyes. Dark, full of unmet desire and without a sign of their previous dampness. Clarke’s cleavage, breasts pushed together thanks to the hands the blonde had planted on her shoulders and even more ample than usual thanks to Clarke’s body getting ready for their unborn child. Their new size almost making up for their tenderness, forbidding Lexa from giving them any kind of rough treatment. Clarke’s knee, wedged into her groin and nudging at her insistently with every slam of Clarke’s hips as the blonde claimed Lexa’s fingers in the filthiest way.

With Clarke like this, bottom lip pulled between pearly, white teeth, fucking herself on Lexa’s hand with no restraint, every other thought left her mind and she didn’t much mind that they were rutting like animals on their family room couch anymore.

Lexa was the first to fall. Stumbling, unexpected and embarrassingly early. She almost thought that Clarke hadn’t noticed, too preoccupied getting her own fill, if it weren’t for the teasing smirk gracing her lips. Lexa didn’t care, she grabbed at Clarke’s hip, pulling the blonde against her more firmly and gyrating her clothed centre into her wife’s thigh to draw out the heady pleasure pulsing in waves from within. Coming with a gasp and struggling to force her eyes from slamming shut, wanting to watch Clarke’s cunt swallowing her fingers greedily at the height of her orgasm.

She only took a second to recover before she was grabbing Clarke by the back of the neck, tugging her into a heated kiss and smashing their breasts together in a needy press. She ignored the cramping in her hand in favour of meeting the insistent hump of Clarke’s hips. Fingers digging, begging for the impossibility of being deeper as they dragged across the specific spot on Clarke’s front wall that had Clarke’s hips stuttering, losing their rhythm.

Clarke’s mouth fell open, head tipping back and slamming herself down hard enough to fill the room with the harsh slap of skin. Lexa used the move to her advantage, latching her mouth onto Clarke’s exposed neck, teeth sinking into flesh and snagging on Clarke’s trachea. Clarke’s breath hitched and Lexa grinned against her claimed prize as Clarke tightened around her almost painfully.

“Fuck!”

And Clarke was falling apart. Back curved into an arch, thighs shaking, cheeks pink and moan long and low in the back of her throat. Lexa revelled in it. Teeth sinking deeper, nails biting into a naked hip and fingers relentless, thrusting shallow thanks to the force of Clarke’s hips baring down. But ignoring the bite of Clarke’s bathing suit digging into them on their quest to penetrate.

The stiffness in Clarke’s limbs left her all at once as she fell against Lexa in a pant. Lips pressing against Lexa’s neck and breath fanning hotly across the skin there. Lexa, after manoeuvring her arm free, held Clarke close. Pushing blonde hair back from Clarke’s sweaty forehead to press her lips there and cradling Clarke’s body to her chest, chuckling as Clarke’s body turned to jelly.

“Someone needed that,” Lexa whispered against Clarke’s forehead, lips quirking into a proud smirk.

Clarke’s fingers met her cheek, pushing Lexa’s face away from her as she grumbled, “Stop being so smug.”

“C’mon,” Lexa chuckled, nudging Clarke’s face with her nose to encourage blue eyes to meet hers, “You have to admit that I know how to treat my lady.”

Azure eyes rolled as Clarke shook her head, wiggling to get comfortable in their embrace and wedging her head under Lexa’s chin. For a moment she was quiet but eventually she grabbed the hand that Lexa had resting against her thigh, leading it upwards before pressing it into her belly, “Baby’s hungry.”

Lexa grinned, thumb stroking fondly as she squeezed Clarke between her thighs, “Lucky for you then, I’ve made enough sweet potato to feed an army.”

Clarke pulled back with a grimace, eyeing Lexa with accusatory blues until a pout settled onto her face, firm and doing nothing to hide Clarke’s dislike for the orange vegetable. That pout only growing when Clarke’s gaze dipped towards her belly, eyeing her bump as if it were a traitor.

“Don’t blame the baby, you do that enough already,” Lexa laughed, tipping Clarke’s face up with a finger to her chin and kissing her sweetly enough to banish her expression.

“Fine,” Clarke huffed against her mouth, a smile growing on her face, “I’ll eat your sweet potatoes but I’m having you for dessert.”

Lexa gulped at the promise held in Clarke’s blue eyes, as well as the fingers tapping against the button on her jeans. But her focus was lost, grazing passed Clarke’s chin before dipping down the front of her shirt.

“I believe I was promised a face sitting,” She countered, raising an eyebrow once her eyes hit blue.

Clarke’s focus flittered, dropping down to Lexa’s lips for enough time to lick her own with a darting pink tongue before blue met green and Clarke’s expression morphed into a sexy smirk, “That can be arranged.”

-----

Alyssa was the first face they saw once they’d pulled up at Indra’s, clasped hands swinging effortlessly between them like so many times before, on their way to the opening front door. And then they were swarmed by a head of wild, copper-brown hair and green eyes. Clarke letting go of her grip on Lexa’s hand and squatting down just in time to catch the little ball of energy that was their four year old daughter.

“I missed you, I missed you, I missed you,” Alyssa chanted against the skin of Clarke’s cheek, arms and legs flailing around as if trying to decide whether they wanted to wrap around and cling tight or to give their mommy a proper beating for leaving for a whole night, “I love you, mommy. I’ll never kill you.”

Lexa double took her daughter’s words, the innocent babbling seeming off kilter in comparison to the words spilling from the four year old’s mouth. But a shared glance with her wife said it all, the sparkling in her eyes, the quirking of her lips as the blonde stifled a laugh - and, of course, shooting Lexa a look that told her that she definitely wasn’t allowed to laugh either. Clarke stroked the little girl’s back, smiling further when Ralphie ambled up behind the youngest member of her pack, sniffing at her hair with a wagging tail.

“Thank you, baby girl,” Clarke cooed, “That’s...that’s very reassuring.”

“What about me?” Lexa queried, pulling Alyssa’s attention away from pinching at the skin of Clarke’s jaw.

Green eyes narrowed, observing her other mother with such judgment in her gaze that Lexa had to supress another laugh, Alyssa might be just four years old but she had a way about her that could make a grown man quiver in his boots. Finally she shrugged, expression loosening and fingers threading into the golden fur that Ralphie had available, “Undecided.”

“Gee, thanks,” Lexa mocked a huff, opening her arms in expectance of her own cuddle with their baby only to be dismissed with a wave of a hand as the sound of a commotion from inside had Alyssa scampering back inside, her golden friend hot on her heels. Lexa pulled a face at Clarke, even as she offered a hand to help her wife to her feet, “What am I? Chopped liver?”

“No, babe,” Clarke gave her a wink, “You’re prime cut.”

Lexa barked a laugh, there was a joke in there somewhere about eating but she didn’t need to voice it, Clarke’s face said it all.

Still.. “And all this time I thought you were a vag-eterian.”

“Honestly, children,” Indra huffed, the next one out of the door and already ushering them inside, “Can’t you save a poor old woman’s ears?”

“Don’t ask me,” Clarke smirked, elbowing Lexa in the ribs, “She’s your daughter.”

--

The hour that followed their arrival was spent relaxing in the busy living room, only immediate family making it to this particular Sunday, making the whole thing a more subdued event. With Gustus making everyone laugh, thanks to his horrendous (according to Anya) dad jokes and Indra recruiting Raven into the kitchen even though she wouldn’t stop complaining, insisting that Clarke should be the one to help until Indra had scolded her with the slap of a tea towel and told her that Clarke was far too busy cooking up another goddess-like grandbaby for her and putting a scowl on Raven’s face.

The kids, for the most part, had remained upstairs. Only coming down once dinner had been served, and even then Madi and Ontari had simply grabbed their plates and headed back upstairs to do teenage things. Something Raven had almost joked about, if it wasn’t for Clarke smacking her before she could. The rest of them ended up around the table. Gustus and Indra taking the two end seats, Gustus entertaining Ilian and Griff, while Indra contended with Alyssa. Raven and Anya opposite Lexa and Clarke, and a few spaces left for their late arrivals.

“Bil!” Clarke cheered, ecstatic to see Aden walking through the door, his best friend Wells in pursuit.

He made his rounds, hugging and greeting everyone at the table before claiming the seat next to Clarke and sweeping her into a hug. The years really had been good to Aden, his built frame and stubble letting him live up to the pseudo name Raven had changed some time before, once Wonder-Boy, now Wonder-Man. But it was Clarke’s nickname for him that stuck, ‘Bil’. Brother-in-law. And Aden liked it, surely more than Clarke’s declarations of him being a ‘fuck boy’, at least. Although he deserved that title too. The fame of becoming a professional soccer player going straight to his head and setting him on a path to hump and dump every girl he set his eyes on, or so it seemed. Yes, ‘fuck boy’ suited him. Perhaps even better than Bil.

With Clarke’s eyes brimming with tears, Lexa felt a nudge under the table that pulled her attention to Anya, who was regarding her with narrowed eyes, “Jesus Clarke’s so emotional when she’s carrying a litter.”

“Tell me about it,” Lexa rolled her eyes, “Last week she asked me for a divorce because she tripped and I didn't even attempt to save her sandwich.”

“Well..what kind of sandwich was it?” Anya asked demurely, sniffing at a seemingly inoffensive carrot speared onto the end of her fork.

“I saved the pregnant lady from kissing the floor, isn’t that enough?” Lexa frowned.

Anya glanced between her plate and Lexa a few times, “I’ll let you know once you answer my question.”

Rolling her eyes, Lexa turned her attention back towards her meal. And that turned out to be a mistake as the tail end of her brothers whisperings caused her to choke on her bread roll.

“What’s the difference between me and my couch? My couch pulls out.”

“What did you just say to my wife?” Lexa hissed, spinning around to face the blonde duo with fire in her eyes.

“Relax, Clarke thinks I’m funny,” Aden shot her his most charming grin, prompting Lexa’s eyes to fall to Clarke, who was tipping her head back in a laugh, her hair brushing over the arm Aden had wrapped around her shoulders. But Aden spoke once again, wiggling his eyebrows and whispering secretively, “In fact, are you sure that isn’t my baby in there?”

Batting Aden’s hand away from his prodding of Clarke’s stomach, Lexa rolled her eyes with a scoff, “In your dreams.”

“That’s right!” Clarke piped up, leaning into Aden and patting his puffed out chest, smile teasing and eyes lighting with amusement, “I’m leaving you for him, we were going to let the baby tell you when he pops out with soccer ball.”

Lexa frowned, not missing the ‘he’ in Clarke’s statement and making a mental note to remind the blonde not to get her hopes up for the boy she wanted later, she lent into the blonde so she could lower her volume, “Quite frankly, I don’t think a soccer ball would fit through your vagina.”

“Hot,” Raven’s voice drifted across the table at them.

Pulling her attention away from the fit of giggles Aden and Clarke had found themselves in, Lexa frowned at Raven, “Did you even hear what I said?”

“I heard vagina,” Raven shrugged, turning back toward her previous conversation with Gustus and dismissing Lexa altogether.

Wells, sitting the other side of Aden and hearing the entire debacle, tilted his head to the side, “You aren’t into sports are you, Clarke?”

“Not really, no,” Clarke shook her head, blonde hair flying across her shoulders, “It was never my thing.”

“What was your thing?” Aden asked cheekily, grin coquettish.

Clarke matched it with a wink and sent everyone into a fit of giggles with her words, “Bending over and stuff.”

“I need to bring Fox next time,” Aden mused, tapping Clarke on the shoulder, “She pretty much idolized you when we were kids and now she thinks you’re scary.”

“What?” Clarke exclaimed in mock outrage, “I’m not scary!”

“I know that,” He chuckled, “But she avoids coming here every time I tell her that you’ll be around.”

Lexa narrowed her eyes, something clicking in her head, “Hold on, Fox...as in...Josephine’s little sister?”

It gained Anya and Raven’s attention and all eyes were on him as Aden grinned sheepishly, everyone knew that his latest date was Fox but they’d never put two and two together before. Josephine being Aden’s girlfriend all throughout high school.

“Well...” Aden drawled, eyebrows raising and hands coming to his chest in an obscene gesture, “She ain’t so little anymore.”

“Oh my God!” Clarke let out a snort of a laugh, even as she wacked him upside the head.

Anya groaning with a look of disgust, frown only deepening at Raven’s comment, “Ah, the good ol’ that’s not how your sister used to do it .”

Mind reeling, Lexa’s brain had to do a complete one eighty as she was pulled into a conversation on the other side of her, a conversation with a completely different theme as Griff and Ilian started squabbling.

“ No ,” Griff huffed, blowing blonde hair out of his eye line, “My mommy showed me where babies come from.”

Lexa had to ignore her brother whispering to her wife in lieu of not wanting her ears to turn pink as she heard him, “Can you show me where babies come from?”

Shaking her head, she was about to intervein when Ilian let out a groan, “You’re so annoying.”

His complaint was met with a flat look on his cousin’s face, causing him to glower, but when he noticed that he’d caught the attention of his grandad, his cheeks pinkened.

“Don’t worry, Illy,” Gustus chuckled, deep and throaty, “I assure you, you are too.”

Ilian deflated, ego bruised as he shrank down lower in his chair. Griff sticking his tongue out in celebration of his win until he caught eyes with his mother and Lexa need only give him a pointed look in reminder to be kind before he was patting his cousin on the arm and changing the subject onto their latest joint-interest, dragons .

Grinning at the wink Gus sent her way, by the time Lexa turned back around - Alyssa had taken up space next to Wells, a dopey look on her face as she gazed up at him like he was the most beautiful think she’d ever seen and Wells, to give him credit, only seemed endeared by the little girl’s crush on him. And Clarke, with a firm pout on her face and staring daggers at Raven across the table.

“I don’t want another girl,” She grumbled petulantly, “I just want a little boy.”

Raven flashed Clarke a shit eating grin, clapping her hands together in jest, “It’s not how it sounds, folks!”

It earnt her a scowl from her cousin as Clarke attempted to kick her under the table, but a laugh from everyone else. And Lexa squeezed Clarke’s knee, drawing the blonde’s attention and welcoming her when Clarke unceremoniously flopped against her with a groan of distaste.

----

Kids asleep, the adults retired to the family room, sharing a few bottles of wine and sprawling over the couches with full stomachs and happy hearts. It was only when Clarke started to fake yawn while sliding her foot up Lexa’s calf did Raven practically chase them upstairs with a slap to Clarke’s ass and a ‘get it, girl’ that could’ve been aimed at either one of them. And then they were kissing messily, no time for tact and stumbling their way down the hall and into Lexa’s old bedroom - which Indra had set up for them in case they wanted to stay over, extra blankets folded neatly at the end of the bed and all. Thank you, Indra.

She grunted as her back hit the bed, half in surprise and half in the desire she had for her wife as the blonde shoved her back. And from there it was the full Clarke Griffin experience. Nothing but seductive, enticing moans, hands everywhere and those filthy, filthy, kisses that Lexa was so used to, laced with promises and an explicit amount of tongue.

When Clarke pulled back, all dark eyes and bruised lips, Lexa groaned, “I swear you’ll be the death of me, Clarke Griffin.”

Sharp eyes shot her a reprimanding glare and she knew exactly what was coming. Clarke’s fingers, previously toying with the waistband of her pants, snagging on the material and letting it go to ping back onto Lexa’s hip with a sting. Clarke’s words just a low growl in her ear.

“Shut up and fuck me.”

Laying side by side, fully sated and breaths an entwined rhythmic beat against the silence of the night, the rain started. A pitter patter against the window pain of Lexa’s childhood bedroom, washing away the day and making space to start a new. And eyes sweeping over her panting companion, Lexa’s mouth went dry, watching Clarke’s pale curves move slightly beneath a blanket of moonlight in time with the catching of the blonde’s breath, only causing heat to stir once again in the deepest part of Lexa’s belly. A smile pulled at her lips as she couldn’t help but to touch, hand sliding up a smooth thigh only to disappear behind her wife’s hip and onto one of her most favorite curve that Clarke had to offer.

“Up for a second round?” She teased, knowing that her wife was far too tired by now. And the grunt of a complaint, the blonde’s only reply, had Lexa chuckling quietly into the nights air as she squeezed firmer at the flesh in her grasp, “You can just lie still, I’ll have a go on this and let you know when I’m done.”

Lexa’s words did the trick, rousing a hoarse giggle that was definitely sexier than it should’ve been from the back of Clarke’s throat, sarcasm dripping from her wicked tongue, “I can’t refuse that, let me assume the position.”

Lexa laughed harder, hand coming down in a firm slap against recently righted pajama shorts, “Don’t go letting your mouth make checks that your ass can’t cash.”

Letting out a snort, Clarke wiggled, coming to a rest in Lexa’s arms. And Lexa held her close as they stilled in her childhood bed. Both of them content as they listened to the melody of the skies and their tumble of life-giving essence as the rain picked up it’s pace, in a hurry to provide nourishment to the ground below.

It was Clarke who broke their shared silence, humming as Lexa pushed blonde hair back from her hairline to press kisses into her forehead, “She wasn’t all bad, you know.”

Lexa paused in the pursuit of her caress, letting her hands settle, splayed on Clarke’s pregnant stomach and back, as she pondered Clarke’s words. Knowing that the dust had settled on Clarke’s earlier emotional state, and now was ready to think about her mother, “No?”

Spoken tentatively, Lexa’s reply was enough to prompt Clarke’s shifting within her embrace, turning more fully in Lexa’s arms in order to gain some eye contact, “There were good times...but she...she wants to be in my life, Lexa. She wants to know me.”

“That’s...” Lexa paused, tentative with her words, not wanting to stir up any bad feelings that her wife certainly didn’t need right now, “Good?”

The question was left to weigh heavily in the air for a moment before Clarke sucked in a breath, “Yeah, it’s good but...Lexa, shouldn’t she already know me?”

“She should,” Lexa said firmly, confident nod to boot.

“It’s been fourteen years, eleven since I’ve even spoken to her. I...part of me feels like so much time has been wasted,” Clarke let out a deep sigh, “But...she chose that, Lex. She chose not to know me.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Lexa comforted quietly, a furrow in her brow at the thought, “You deserve to be known.”

“But then I...”

Clarke hummed in her pause, voice trailing until a reassuring squeeze from Lexa encouraged her on. Licking her lips, Clarke’s gaze met hers and created enough of an anchor for Clarke to speak again, “I think you’re right, Lex...as much as it pains me to say it, Madi should make her own decision. I just...I don’t want to lose her.”

“You wont,” Lexa said without pause, eyes drifting from Clarke’s frown to her chin, “You taught her well, Clarke. You should trust that.”

“I hope so,” Clarke whispered, eyebrows raising and an open expression on her face that told Lexa just how much Clarke meant it. It was gone a second later as Clarke let out a sigh, shrugging, “Who knows, maybe she’ll be a better grandma than she was a mom.”

Lexa nodded, resting their foreheads together and holding Clarke just that little bit closer, “If she isn’t then she’ll have me to deal with.”

Clarke gazed at her then, a streak of lightening illuminating the room as well as the blue of Clarke’s eyes, a tremble running through the blonde, one that always came with storms and only serving Lexa another reminder of how careful they needed to be, “Promise?”

“Promise,” Lexa nodded, focusing on the way Clarke’s breathing hitched at the incoming storm, “There’s no rush, anyway.”

“No,” Clarke agreed, pursing her lips, “She made me wait for twenty nine years so she can wait for a little while longer.”

Lexa nodded, pecking Clarke’s lips with a brief kiss before pulling back, “Besides, you’ve got a few things to get done yet - might be time consuming.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” Lexa smirked at the amused quirk of Clarke’s eyebrow and nodded confidently, “Lots of face-sitting duties, as well as bending over.”

“That’s right,” Clarke giggled, tapping her chin in mock-thought, “How could I forget?”

“Plus, you know...” Lexa poked at Clarke’s stomach, “You kinda owe me a baby.”

“I ‘spose I do,” Clarke grinned, grabbing Lexa’s hand and entwining their fingers before pressing them against her tummy, where Lexa could feel a flurry of activity from their baby just in time for a low, grumbling boom to fill the air.

The thunder brought with it, their kids. Clarke’s fear of thunderstorms passed on from mother to children - and dog. Ralphie was first, padding her way into the room and pausing politely at the side of the bed, tail wagging gently as she asked to come up and hopping in moments later when Clarke lifted the covers in invitation. Griff and Alyssa were next. Griff leading his little sister by the hand, both of them equally dishevelled and clearly not long woken up. Griff with a mumbled excuse of ‘Lyss was scared’ as they clambered onto the bed. Big brother duties taken care of, Griff tucking himself into Lexa’s side and tipping his face up in acceptance of the many silent kisses Lexa scattered across his dimpled cheeks. Alyssa haphazardly wiggling into a comfortable position on Clarke’s chest, legs curled upwards to avoid placing any weight on the bump where her younger sibling was growing, and sticking her face down the front of Clarke’s shirt, no doubt to mouth and bite at the motherly flesh available.

After sharing a smile with Clarke, Lexa pressed one last kiss to Griff’s forehead, murmuring against soft hair, “Goodnight, bud.”

“G’night,” He yawned, eyes droopy and already dozing off on Lexa’s shoulder.

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” Clarke finished off in a whisper, fingers gently working through Alyssa’s curls.

“No, wait,” Alyssa mumbled, voice muffled on boob and thick with sleep, “I want them to bite me.”

“Okay, we’ll them them bite you,” Clarke chuckled, reaching down to wiggle her fingers into small feet, “Just your toes though.”

“Nooo,” Alyssa grumbled, pushing Clarke’s hands away and huffing as she made herself comfy again after the unwelcome intrusion of being tickled, clearly too tired for such fooling around.

“Room for one more?” Madi stood in the doorway, almost hesitant. She’d long grown out of wanting to curl up in bed with her moms for cuddles but occasionally, especially when a storm was roaring just outside, she would find her way there, ready to be mothered.

“Always,” Clarke smiled, expression dopey as she made space, giving Madi enough room to settle in between her parents.

And Lexa watched as her family fell asleep to the sound of rain inspiring their dreams. It was the simple things that made Lexa’s life complete. The kindness of a mother, wrapped up in an extra blanket on her childhood bed, sheltering her family from the chill in the air. The protection of a father, providing a never ending sense of security. The friendship of a sister, and her family alike. The love of a wife, showing in a dimpled smile passed on to a son. The greens in his sibling’s eyes, reflective of her own. The thud of a tail belonging to a loyal canine companion.

Or simply, the wit of a daughter.

“I haven’t forgotten about that sex tape, by the way.”

“No,” Lexa smiled into the night, “I ‘spect not.”