Chapter Text
The first time one of Clarke’s relatives assumes Lexa is her girlfriend is at the Griffin family Christmas gathering. Really, it’s in early-February, because there are too many Griffins with too many conflicts for Christmas day to work for them all, and because Clarke and her parents spent the actual holiday with her mom’s side of the family. Still, almost all the Griffins are together in the house where Clarke’s grandparents started their family and Grandpa Griffin is donning a Santa suit and serving mulled cider, so it feels like Christmas.
Every year, the Griffins come together to capture the spirit of a big family Christmas, and everyone gets assigned a job to make the weekend as authentic as possible. Clarke’s dad is outside with her aunt Julie and a few of the cousins and their partners, wrapping Christmas lights around the shrubs that line the long driveway and fighting over how best to wire them without repeating the great power outage of 2012. Her mom and uncle Joe are in the den with the little kids and Grandpa Griffin, decorating the artificial trees they set up whenever they want to make a holiday out of an average weekend. Some of her cousins are hanging stockings, and some are still making trips up and down the stairs to bring the old Christmas figurines out of storage. Clarke’s aunt Janine is upstairs leading a team in spreading out sleeping bags and piles of blankets and pillows for the huge sleepover.
Clarke and her cousin Dylan are the exception to the rule, even if the rest of the family doesn’t realize it yet. Every year, they spend the first day shuffling aimlessly between rooms, valiantly avoiding being assigned jobs. It’s a long running game between the two of them, seeing how long it takes the rest of the family to notice. This time, Dylan drags a broom around, not sweeping, just letting the bristles of it trail behind him, giving everyone the impression that he’s either about to clean up, or has just finished cleaning up. When she thinks someone is about to ask her to do something, Clarke fixates on something that’s already done, changing it or rearranging it as though her perfectionism is the only reason she can’t do any of the heavy lifting.
Lexa, on the other hand, is doing plenty of heavy lifting in the kitchen, wearing what Clarke and her cousins believe to be the ugliest apron—the one patterned with the round, smiling faces of straw-haired, button-eyed children—from Grandma Griffin’s expansive apron collection and a smile. She didn’t take Clarke’s warning about avoiding eye contact with Grandma Griffin until all the work was done, and now she’s on hand mixing duty with two of Clarke’s cousins and one of their boyfriends. Grandma Griffin doesn’t believe in electric kitchen tools, and swears that the best desserts are made with love and without machines. Conveniently, Grandma Griffin always supervises the hand mixing, and leaves the wrist cramping to the young people. Clarke wonders if Lexa regrets accepting her invitation yet.
Clarke and Dylan work together, pantomiming carrying a heavy box from the kitchen to the basement, even though the box is empty, and when they get back, Clarke sees Grandma Griffin chatting with Lexa. She does this sometimes, when one of the Griffins brings along a newcomer, whether it’s a friend from school or a fiancée, to get to know them better and make sure they feel welcome, so Clarke doesn’t think much of it until she’s standing in the doorway, close enough to hear her.
“I’m just glad one of my grandchildren finally brought home someone who can bake,” her grandma says, and then adds, “Don’t worry, Tyler, you’ll learn,” when Clarke’s cousin Leah and her boyfriend scoff from the other side of the kitchen in their matching sunflower patterned aprons.
Then her grandmother leans in conspiratorially and stage-whispers, “A lost cause, that boy. At least Leah hasn’t set off any smoke alarms this year. You’re my best shot at passing down my cookie recipe and knowing it won’t be ruined.”
The brunette is rolling out dough, while Clarke’s grandma periodically sprinkles flour over it for her, and Clarke knows Lexa has the official Grandma Griffin baking seal of approval when she doesn’t push her out of the way to demonstrate the proper thickness of a sugar cookie.
“I try,” Lexa says, “but I don’t think I’m on your level yet, Mrs. Griffin.”
“Maybe not, but you’re a hell of a lot better than Clarke, and I expect at least one promising baker per couple in this family.”
Clarke almost interjects, because she’s really not that bad of a baker, when the words register. Lexa’s eyes bulge, and then she blinks a lot, like, far more than normal, and she clears her throat.
“Clarke and I aren’t—”
“You can’t lie to old women, Lexa. We know too much.”
Clarke’s grandma is wrong, of course, but Clarke can see where she might get that idea. This is Lexa’s first Griffin family Christmas, but she fits right in. She gets along as well with most of Clarke’s cousins as the blonde does; she gets along better with Audrey, who Clarke loves, in theory, but can’t be alone in a room with for more than ten minutes. Clarke invited her because Lexa had no plans, because she doesn't have much family and has never had them all together at once, and because Clarke would’ve spent the whole time texting her anyway.
“But we’re not—” Lexa tries again, her hands frozen on the rolling pin.
“It’s okay, dear. Didn’t Clarke tell you she and Noah took me to one of those proud parades? The one with all the flags and the men in heels, you know. Noah’s gay, and I love him. Clarke’s, what’s that word again?”
“Bisexual?” Lexa offers.
“Right. Clarke’s a bisexual, and I love her. Grandma Griffin loves her gay grandchildren, Lexa, so you don’t have to hide things from me.”
Clarke’s about to jump in the conversation when Dylan elbows her in the ribs, raises an eyebrow at her, and smirks, clearly under the impression that Grandma Griffin knows more about Clarke and Lexa’s relationship than they do.
“I’m really not hiding anything,” Lexa says, getting back into her rolling rhythm, “Clarke and I are friends.”
“Sounds fake, but okay,” Henry says from his spot at the other counter, his braces gleaming as he looks at Lexa, and Leah and Tyler laugh. Lexa freezes again and looks over at him incredulously, one hand still tight around the rolling pin, the other absentmindedly spreading flour onto the already disastrous countertop.
“Oh, my gosh, guys,” Clarke finally huffs when it’s clear that Lexa doesn’t know how to respond, “please leave my platonic friend alone. I love you, too, Grandma, but Lexa and I aren’t together. And it’s called Pride. A pride parade, not a proud parade, for future reference.”
Lexa seems to relax when she sees Clarke in the doorway. Her shoulders loosen a little, and she widens her eyes for just a second, like a signal that only Clarke can see. Well, Clarke and Dylan, whose mop of curly blond hair bounces when he snorts at Lexa’s signal.
Her grandmother doesn’t have to say anything to express her disbelief. She smiles at Clarke, but her lips pull into a thin line and pucker slightly instead of spreading into the wide, warm grin Clarke is so used to. She tilts her head at Clarke and the space between her brows and her hairline gets even more densely wrinkled. She wipes her thin hands on her pink apron, reaches out to Lexa, gives her free hand a few gentle pats, and then, keeping eye contact with Clarke, says, “Of course, dear,” before looking at Lexa and saying, “I’m an old lady. What do I know?”
The others in the kitchen laugh and Clarke just smiles and asks, “Still wishing you had with a big family?”
Lexa shrugs and gives Clarke another look meant just for her and says, “Maybe.”
They make it through a very Griffin Christmas in one piece, and Lexa handles the noise and the chaos and the invasive questions well. Clarke makes certain that the brunette gets the full big family Christmas experience, dragging her caroling around the block with the most obnoxious of the Griffins, who are the only ones who refuse to let little things like social norms stop them from singing to their neighbors in February.
The blonde lets Lexa goad her into decorating the cookies that Lexa made with the little kids, and they make a huge mess that Clarke convinces her doesn’t need to be cleaned up until tomorrow. Clarke tells the brunette that her yellow snowman with sprinkles and a scarf made of Twizzlers is adorable; she even bites back the urge to mention the time when Henry peed on a snowman and made it look just like Lexa’s does now, because the other woman beams at her so brightly, and Clarke doesn’t want to ruin it. But, Lexa's smile doesn't even dim when little David grabs the snowman in his chubby fist and bites the head off with his three teeth, and Clarke doesn't think she could ruin it if she tried.
She pours Lexa cups of mulled cider until she can practically smell cloves seeping out Lexa’s pores, and then they sneak into Grandpa Griffin’s spiked eggnog stash with Dylan, Leah, and Tyler, even though they’re all in their twenties, because tradition requires it.
On their makeshift Christmas day, Lexa has a gift from her secret Santa, and gives one to Audrey’s fiancé Michael, because there is no way that every Griffin could afford to buy presents for everyone else. The whole family laughs uncomfortably when they see that Dylan packed condoms as a gag gift to go with the book Lexa wanted. Lexa also gets a pajama set that matches Clarke’s, and Grandma Griffin doesn’t even draw attention to the fact that all the couples in the room got matching pajamas while the singles didn’t. Clarke is ninety percent sure that her entire family thinks they’re together, and she doesn’t bother correcting them, because, apparently, they won’t believe her.