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Her eyelids drooped unavoidably and her head slowly rolled forward only to jerk back within a moment, struggling to stay awake. ‘Ugh, I am too old to be staying up so late at night.’ The habit had snuck up on her undetected. As the third X rolled in, the only half-serious habit of proclaiming herself too old for things tailgated its way right along with it. It did not help that the flood of memes on all of her social media accounts reaffirmed the very same notion, her tumblr account a veritable aesthetic for a grand mixture of unicorn puke and oldie jokes.
Staying up far past what most people would consider normal would have been Clarke’s natural mode of operation, being nocturnal by force of nature but her current job had a tendency to revenge itself on her for it. Clarke worked as a freelance visual designer. One would think that would grant her all the freedom in the world, yet she was unfortunate enough that the clients of her current project required regular early morning meetings. Not being one to slouch, Clarke refused to go back to sleep in the middle of the day once her 9am call had concluded.
She had been attempting to read an article that caught her eye in a magazine as she had been walking home the day before but she could not for the life of her keep her eyes open. The next time her eyelids helplessly closed over the lull of the small print she jerked awake not out of sheer will but owing to the harsh shrill of her intercom. ‘Who the hell is THAT?’ Clarke wondered. She had not been expecting either a visitor or any sort of delivery.
“Hello?” She asked curiously after picking the handle off the base.
“This is police officer Woods, Ma’am, if you would kindly let us in.” Said the static-tainted female voice. Even over the bad sound quality that made everyone sound like they were speaking from a box Clarke could tell that officer Woods had a pleasant lilt. ‘The police? What the actual fuck?’ Clarke hastily put on some shorts after buzzing them in. Home office in a pandemic was certainly not conducive to wearing much clothing, particularly on a blistering hot summer day when her AC had not yet been repaired.
She opened the door somewhat wearily, not really understanding why the police would be paying her a visit. ‘Has something happened to someone?’ Her mind turned into panic mode in a matter of seconds as she wondered who might have her listed as an emergency contact. ‘Goddamit, it better not be Finn again…’ Clarke fumed silently as she waited for the police to make it up to the 3rd floor. She had told him after his drunk driving incident to take her off his emergency contact list. She was SO over him and absolutely not interested in his bullshit.
When her ears picked up the faint sound of knocking, Clarke’s eyebrows knit in confusion. She crept towards the stairwell which was a square tube essentially with apartments opening from each landing. She could make out the sounds of one female and two male voices. Being the quintessential nosy neighbour that she was, Clarke crept closer, hoping to eavesdrop on what trouble her neighbours got into. ‘Why ask ME to buzz them in tho? Oh my god, are they trying to arrest someone without alerting them? What have they done? Is there a murderer in the building?’ Clarke tried to recall the neighbours who lived on the second floor. There was Alfred, the odd museum security guard guy who always tried to chat with her about the most random things. Not that she was not appreciative of learning odd facts about the Boston Tea Party or the Mayflower but she just couldn’t peg the guy. At first Clarke thought he was beefing up his courage to ask her out but his random conversation attempts started a half a year ago and so far no propositioning whatsoever. Not that she wanted it. Dude wasn’t her bag of chips. But it unsettled her a bit.
Then there was old Mrs. Wilson and her ridiculous poodle, Muffin. ‘Man, that dog had a serious Napoleon-complex.’ Clarke had tried to be friendly with Muffin when she first moved in but that had only lasted until one day, when she was having a pleasant little chit-chat with Mrs. Wilson, Muffin tore out of the flat and launched himself right at Clarke’s ankle. Fortunately she had been wearing a thick pair of jeans and there was no bite mark… although Muffin had definitely left a lasting impression of a different kind. Poor Mrs. Wilson had been so contrite, wringing her hands nervously, fretting that Clarke would be angry and get the silly little mutt in trouble. Clarke had been kind enough to promise that she wouldn’t. The relief on Mrs. Wilson’s face was palpable. ‘Oh my god, is there something wrong with Mrs. Wilson? But no, it wouldn’t be the police then…’ The third door. She had no idea who lived there. She had never seen that door being opened.
Eyes closed, Clarke even held her breath, trying to pick up any words. Every nerve ending in her body was focused on sharpening her hearing but she could not catch what they were saying. She had never been so frustrated with deep male voices in her entire life. They were so much more difficult to decipher. ‘And why were only the men speaking? Where was officer Woods?’ Clarke felt increasingly annoyed as she crept closer to the railing. She had crouched on the stairs, nearly sitting on the steps and peered between the vertical columns of rusted metal. ‘Ah, so its not Alfred or Mrs Wilson.’ A stranger and two cops in uniform were standing on the landing just below hers, deep in conversation. It was mostly the stranger talking, officer Woods taking notes in her notepad. Clarke had a very restricted view of her profile but she thought the officer might be pretty. ‘Her voice certainly was…even as static-y as it was.’ Officer Woods appeared to be of medium height and a lean build with a mane of chestnut hair that was tamed into a rather bulky bun. ‘Mmm, she’s probably got long hair to make that big a bun…’ Clarke got so lost in her appreciation that she barely registered the double meaning of her own lecherous thoughts. When the officer inclined her head slightly as she listened to the man, words Clarke still couldn’t make out, Clarke sucked in a quiet breath. ‘Oh my GOD that jawline. What the fuck…how is that not illegal???’ Clarke wondered wordlessly, shocked at the perfectly sharp angle. ‘God damn, I bet I’d get a paper cut if she let me trace it with my finger…’
“So…what… I can’t get into my own apartment?” It was the first clear sentence Clarke managed to make out. The man sounded agitated as if he had been repeating the same sentences over and over again. ‘Probably has been too…’ The snippet of information she finally managed to procure sufficiently distracted her thoughts from perving out on the unwitting officer, mind firmly set again on figuring out what the heck was going on. ‘What is it buddy, lost your keys?’ Clarke wondered silently as she craned her neck, crouching stock still on the stairs. There was officer Woods’ voice again, it was the same pleasantly deepish rumble she had heard through the buzzer. Clarke felt like she could almost make the words out. She was more or less positive officer Woods had said something along the lines of not having the right to enter and needing official documents, but alas, everything was against her. Clarke usually liked that the stairwell was large and airy with a full wall of glass windows on side of it. Being the middle of summer of course most of the windows were thrown open to encourage ventilation which…proved to be a nuisance for Clarke’s reconnaissance mission. It was bad enough that the stairwell echoed but all the subtle noises coming from outside…they were driving Clarke mad. There was a soft breeze, carrying the subtle rustling of tree leaves along with the cheerful chirping of birds. There were people walking by, most likely chattering, couching, living their lives oblivious to the exciting happenings in Clarke’s microcosm. There was traffic, the barely noticeable whoosh of cars passing by, carrying their owners to their destination. All of the accumulating noise of down town Boston congregating in this very moment to thwart Clarke in the acquisition of valuable knowledge that she could then turn into exciting gossip.
Clarke had been so focused on tuning the background noises out and listening solely to the unintelligible conversation that was being had not more than a few feet from her that she failed to notice or even react to the disturbance in time. John, her next door neighbour had just rushed down the stairs, right past the officers without a second glance. Officer Woods, on the other hand, had certainly glanced, right at Clarke. John’s hasty exit made her look up sharply, instinctively scanning her surroundings and when she had ascertained that John was not a threat, her eyes landed on Clarke. For a moment, Clarke crouched there, stunned into immobility by the most gorgeous woman she had ever seen. Vibrant green eyes stared at her first in surprise which, Clarke would later analyse obsessively, slowly morphed into perplexed curiosity. An elegant eyebrow raised as she cocked her head to the right, likely wondering what Clarke was doing on the stairs, staring at them from her semi-concealed crouching position. It was another couple of seconds of ungraceful staring before Clarke’s body woke from its stupor and she finally managed to scramble back. Eyes rounded in shock and heart beating unreasonably fast, Clarke fled the scene to hide behind the safety of her altogether too loudly shut door. ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How awkward. Oh my GOD though… those eyes. And bloody hell those LIPS.’ Clarke, cheerfully bisexual since as far back as she could remember, had absolutely managed to develop a crush on a random police officer within a matter of minutes. Face palming herself for her ridiculous behaviour as she trudged towards her couch, she crumpled on it bonelessly before reaching for her phone. ‘Damn it, Raven is going to have such a field day teasing me…’ Clarke thought with resignation and despite cringing in advance at her best friend’s anticipated teasing, she could not keep it to herself. She just had to gush about those pretty eyes and kissable lips.
A few days later…
Clarke had given up on ever seeing the elusive officer Woods again. She felt mildly creepy fine-combing social media platforms and they didn’t even yield results. And Raven was of no more use either. Amidst a relentless flood of teasing, her friend’s soundest suggestions were either committing a crime to get arrested by officer Woods - “Ya think she would spank you for being naughty?” - or to play the part of damsel in distress - “Imagine if she arrived on one of those fancy police motorcycles and rode with you into the sunset, huh?”. Clarke would never admit it out loud but the idea of officer Woods spanking her whilst still in her uniform, or parts of her uniform, did things for Clarke. Naughty, filthy things she damn near acted on one night before she managed to hold on to her dignity and not masturbate to the fantasy of a hot uniformed professional having her way with her.
Clarke’s thoughts were still full of officer Woods one early morning when she succumbed to her caffeine craving and decided to run down to the 7eleven near by for an energy drink. It was her one sinful indulgence. Her eyes were firmly glued on her phone as she rounded the corner and thus was unable to avoid collision. A set of firm muscled hands around her waist and lower back were the only things keeping her from toppling backwards and landing squarely on her ass.
“Ohmig-” “I’m-so-sorr..” Two voices sounded at the same time, one breathless, one yelping in surprise. When Clarke’s eyes whipped up and met a sea of shockingly familiar green her own eyes rounded in shock. “OFFICER WOODS!” Clarke exclaimed entirely too loudly as she all but jumped out of the woman’s embrace. Shocked round eyes scanned the unlikely apparition in front of her. There she stood in front of her, officer Woods, decidedly not in uniform. She was sporting a very form fitting tank top that revealed a tattoo that caught Clarke’s interest immediately and a pair of sinfully revealing spandex running shorts. But to her demise, there were also beads of sweat collecting on her face and chest, slowing Clarke’s neurons almost to a halt. She stared at officer Woods distractedly for a couple of moments before her brain had finally managed to climb out of the shapely wormhole it had found itself in. “I… uh…I am so sorry, officer…” Clarke mumbled, feeling incredibly shameful and wishing that the pavement would just open up below her feet and swallow her.
“I prefer Lexa, when I’m not on duty…?” Lexa’s voiced trailed off on a high note, her head inclined to the side in question, prompting Clarke to supply her name.
“C-Clarke..” Clarke coughed to find her voice. “Clarke Griffin…” Clarke said after a louder than necessary gulp as she overly enthusiastically thrust her hand out for a handshake. Feeling flushed, awkward, not really knowing where to rest her eyes, Clarke desperately tried not to stare at the myriad of stare-worthy spots on Lexa’s entire being. When Lexa bit her gloriously plump bottom lip to stifle what Clarke identified as an amused smirk she knew she was done for. ‘Goddamit, I swear those lips were created to ruin me.’
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Clarke Griffin” Lexa said in a casually flirtatious tone, throwing another one of her apparently characteristic eyebrow raises at Clarke as she grasped her hand firmly yet gently.
“Uhm… so I was…wondering if you…” Clarke stammered out but before she could finish her question Lexa’s lips stretched into the most beautiful cheerful smile and she nodded pre-emptively. “Yes, Clarke. I’d love to.” Lexa confirmed.