Chapter Text
Clarke absently swirled her gin and tonic, not paying attention to the conversation around her. Her focus was on the other side of the bar on the group that had just walked in. There were a dozen or so of them. They were loud and clearly hyped up.
It wasn’t difficult to work out who the group were; the signs were all there. They were obviously fit and could generally be sorted into two body types regardless of gender: broad shoulders and bulging biceps strained at a number of tshirts, while others were slim yet toned. That, and the regulation cropped hairstyles gave the group's identity away like a banner held above them: these were Marines, fresh out of basic training.
Clarke was intrigued. She had heard rather than seen these recruits over the past week. The medics had been trapped on a training course to refresh their battlefield first aid skills and so had limited interaction with the other lifeforms on base. It was one of the things that frustrated Clarke the most as she had barely met any personnel outside of the Army Medical Corps since getting a sponsorship a year ago. As much as Clarke valued the guidance of the senior medical staff around her, Clarke wanted some interaction with soldiers her own age. Sure, there were a few other baby medics and some younger nurses around, but they were still within the medical bubble. Sometimes Clarke just wanted to get away from that for a while.
'Bootnecks are always so loud,' one of the surgeons complained, turning his nose up at the sudden change in atmosphere.
'But they do know how to have fun,' another countered. They looked over at the group with some amusement. They did indeed seem to be having fun.
'I might head back soon,' Dr Jackson sighed, running a hand over his tired face. 'It's only going to get rowdier in here and I don't want to deal with the aftermath of a fight tonight.'
Clarke frowned at the assumption. 'You don't know they're going to start a fight.'
Jackson shrugged. 'They might not start it, but they'll definitely finish it.'
The other doctors and a couple of nurses agreed and added that they would leave soon too. Clarke was a bit put out; she wanted to stay and spend a bit more time away from the base, even if it was just at the local pub.
'I'll stay here for a bit,' Clarke told them, inviting a number of frowns. 'I'll be fine, I just don't want to go back yet. Besides, some of the nurses are staying a little longer. I'll come back with them.'
'Alright Clarke,' Jackson nodded, glancing over to where the aforementioned nurses sat a few booths away. 'Just make sure you don’t walk back alone.'
'I promise.' Clarke appreciated his concern for her, even if it did feel a bit overbearing sometimes.
The rest of the booth occupants gathered their belongings and headed out. Clarke finished her drink and headed to the bar for another. She had just ordered when a raucous cheer from the marines made Clarke glance back over at them. Another marine - a woman - had just walked in. She definitely fitted the slim, toned build and had cropped hair to match the rest of the troop.
‘Here she is!’ One of the marines boomed, giving the newcomer a clap on the back.
A bald marine with a full tattoo sleeve stepped up to the woman with a beermat in his hands. ‘Can I have an autograph, ma’am?’
Another slapped the beermat from his hands. ‘First Lieutenant Woods will not be taking any more questions at this time.’
Clarke was intrigued by the skit, not understanding any of it but she enjoyed watching the interactions. A few of the others gave one armed hugs and ruffled her hair. The woman laughed the whole time and gave the closest marine a playful swat on the arm. ‘If I get this round will you all pack it in?’
The group roared with laughter again, interspersed with a chorus of ‘No!’s and ‘We’ll see!’s.
The woman shrugged. ‘It was worth a shot.’
‘Or a crate!’ Someone piped up. More cheers. Clarke avidly watched the woman flip off the group and approach the bar.
Curiosity got the better of Clarke and she scooted along the bar to settle herself close enough to speak to the female marine, but not close enough for it to be weird.
‘You seem to be the most popular person at the bar tonight,’ Clarke commented with a friendly smile.
The woman seemed surprised to find that Clarke was talking to her. She glanced back at the troop behind her. ‘Yeah, they like to make a fuss.’
No wonder , Clarke thought. On closer inspection, Clarke saw that the woman was stunning. She had bright green eyes, full lips, a sharp jawline, and high cheekbones. She was about a head taller than Clarke, and the hint of a black-lined tattoo peeked from the sleeve of her t-shirt on lightly tanned and reasonably toned arms.
‘And what is it they’re fussing over?’ Clarke asked, reigning her roaming eyes back in.
The woman looked a little embarrassed at Clarke’s attention, bless her . Clarke thought it was adorable.
‘I got selected to do an interview about my experience of training as a marine, so the team are roasting me for it.’
‘I see,’ Clarke chuckled. ‘So you’re kind of a big deal.’
‘Too right she is,’ a bald barrel-chested man appeared behind them. ‘Our young Commander here is always in the spotlight.’
‘Fuck off Quint,’ the woman rolled her eyes, annoyance rather than malice in her voice. The bartender returned with Clarke’s gin and tonic.
‘I’ll get this one for the lady,’ Quint announced loudly.
Clarke scoffed. Occasionally she would find the offer flattering, but this guy was not her type and was rudely interrupting her conversation with someone who most definitely was her type.
‘No you won’t,’ Clarke corrected, handing her own money over to the barman. ‘This lady will get her own drinks.’
Quint huffed. ‘I’m just being chivalrous here, no need to be a bitch about it.’
Clarke felt the rage start to swell within her.
‘Quint.’ The female marine’s voice was sharp and her eyes were stern. ‘Walk away. Now.’
Quint looked like he was going to argue, but decided against it at the intensity of her gaze and seemed particularly unhappy about it. ‘Whatever.’ He skulked back over to the group with a sour look on his face.
‘I’m sorry about that,’ the woman apologised earnestly. ‘I’ll leave you to drink in peace.’ She moved to go but Clarke stopped her with a hand on her forearm.
‘No, stay. Forget about it. We were just getting talking. I’m Clarke, by the way.’
The woman seemed uncertain. ‘Are you a journalist?’
Clarke laughed out loud at the unexpected question. ‘Absolutely not.’
She still seemed skeptical, as though she couldn’t understand why Clarke would want to continue their conversation.
‘Alright, let’s start again.’ Clarke unzipped her purse, slipped her ID card out and set it on the bar for the woman to see. ‘Hi, I’m Second Lieutenant Clarke Griffin, Student Medical Officer, Army Medical Corps.’
Her green eyes flicked to the card and then to Clarke. After a moment she held out her hand, noticeably more relaxed.
‘First Lieutenant Lexa Woods, Marine Commando.’
Clarke withheld her hand and cocked an eyebrow in challenge. ‘I showed you mine, you show me yours.’
First Lieutenant Lexa Woods chuckled and pulled her own ID from her pocket. She held it out to Clarke. ‘Is that satisfactory, ma’am?’
Clarke examined the ID and read that First Lieutenant Lexa Woods’ full name was actually First Lieutenant Alexandra Woods. Clarke nodded, satisfied with what she read, and shook the outstretched hand. ‘Nice to meet you, Lt Woods. Now that’s out of the way, will you stay for a drink with me?’
Lt Woods smiled and took a seat. ‘Only if you call me Lexa.’
Clarke was pleased she was getting somewhere at last. ‘So, Lexa. Now that the introductions are out of the way, why do you dislike journalists?’
Lexa laughed and began to explain. As the night went on, Clarke and Lexa talked, drank, and got to know each other. Lexa ordered a round of drinks for her fellow marines that seemed to keep them happy for a while. A couple of them came over to join their conversation while they ordered their own drinks.
Clarke knew that she wasn’t imagining the chemistry between them, and that it wasn’t the warmth of the pub making Clarke feel flushed and a little bit giddy. As they spoke there were light touches here, knees brushing there. The gradually stronger gins didn’t help Clarke remain subtle in her actions either.
The rest of Lexa’s troop began to mingle and try their luck chatting up other patrons. Before long they looked to move on to another venue, a few of the nurses Clarke knew in tow. Lexa declined the invitation to join them and received a loud and suggestive jeer from the group, which Lexa apologised for the moment they were out of the door.
Clarke found the whole thing highly entertaining and decided to up her game. ‘Well they’re not wrong, are they?’
Lexa’s eyes widened imperceptibly and she sighed with relief. ‘Oh thank god, I thought I was entirely misreading the situation.’
Clarke chuckled at her reaction. ‘Not at all. I’m glad my gaydar is still accurate though.’
Lexa shrugged, mock apologetically. ‘Looks like mine needs recalibrating.’
Clarke shook her head with a smirk. ‘I reckon it was getting some interference considering I’m bi.’
Lexa nodded thoughtfully, her grin roguish. ‘That’s definitely the issue. I never usually have that problem.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Clarke grinned. ‘That’s what they all say.’
Lexa clutched a hand to her chest. ‘Ooh, a performance joke? That cuts deep.’
‘I’m sure you’ll get over it.’ Clarke bit her lip, her pupils dilated as she looked at Lexa. ‘Do you want to get out of here?’
Lexa seemed mildly surprised by Clarke’s forwardness, as though Lexa had been expecting to be the one to advance the evening.
‘Your place?’ Lexa proposed. ‘I would offer mine but it’s a six-woman mess and I don’t want to put you through the trauma of dealing with the rest of my unit when they get back. The girls are just as vicious as the guys.’
Clarke was more than happy to spend the night in her own, en-suite room with the marine. She finished her drink and shrugged on her jacket. ‘Then let’s go.’
Lexa took Clarke’s hand and led them out of the bar.
The barracks where they were both accommodated was only a ten minute walk from the pub, and in that time it was extremely difficult to keep their hands off each other. They paused briefly when they couldn’t restrain themselves any longer. Clarke backed Lexa up against a park fence, the fabric of her t-shirt fisted tightly in Clarke’s grip. The bitter taste of gin on Clarke’s tongue was a sharp contrast with the sweetness of the rum on Lexa’s lips. Their bodies pressed up against each other and Lexa’s hands wandered over Clarke’s curves. They broke away from each other, panting, eyes wide with lust.
‘As much as I want you right now,’ Clarke rasped, closing her eyes to control herself. ‘I’d rather we had a bed handy.’
Lexa nodded, breathing just as heavily as Clarke was. They quickly made it the rest of the way back to the base and managed to resist getting side tracked again until they made it to Clarke’s accommodation. As soon as the door to Clarke’s room clicked shut, their restraint dropped along with their clothes.
Technically, Clarke had kept her promise to Dr. Jackson: she hadn’t walked home alone.