A/N: Edits have been made to the previous chapter since it's been published.

Clarke nudged her Aviators further up the bridge of her nose as bright sunlight shone through white clouds. She could hear childish laughter mixing with the sounds of the lake, bringing a soft smile to her lips. She let it wash over her, her eyelids falling shut as she concentrated on the delicious heat touching her bare skin.

It was just before noon the following day, the sun playing gently across the surface of the lake. She and Raven were down by the water, sunbaking and generally avoiding joining in on the volleyball game and watersports going on around them. The only activity Clarke had any real interest in joining was the dance class underneath the gazebo. And Raven knew it, sending her that knowing smirk every time her eyes wandered over to the large white structure by the water's edge.

Octavia was there leading a small group in what appeared to be a light Cha-cha. Her hands were lost in her long braided hair, and her hips were moving in time with the Latin rhythm. She was cute. But Clarke couldn't deny the fact that she wasn't the one her eyes kept seeking out amongst the sea of people lounging by the lake.

Stupid.

Clarke scolded herself for the small glimmer of hope that sat high in her chest, niggling underneath her ribcage, taunting her. If the girl were interested she wouldn't have disappeared the night before. She wouldn't have just left. At least that's what Clarke told herself over and over every time her eye strayed to the gazebo.

So stupid.

Clarke shifted higher on her deckchair, opening the large sketchbook on her lap and pulling a pencil from her beach bag.

Glancing next to her at Raven, her eyes brushed over the long jagged scar that ran down the length of the girl's left thigh, and over the smaller scars that dotted her arms and stomach. The marks that etched dark skin had long since faded to a dull white, serving as the only signs of the life Raven had endured before she came to live with the Griffins.

But Raven wasn't self conscious of them, donning a tiny red bikini that left little to the imagination. She was beautiful. And Clarke would tell her as much if those words weren't always met with a cocky grin and an affirmation on just how much the girl knew it.

"Hey, ladies."

A shadow moved over the blank page in front of her, Clarke looking up through her sunglasses to see Finn standing over Raven with a wide smile.

Clarke just rolled her eyes and looked to the other side of the beach while he talked low with Raven. She ignored their exchanged words and the faint giggle that escaped her best friend, Clarke's fingers fiddling loosely with the pencil in her hands.

She brought it down to the paper as she watched her dad up on the deck playing cards with Thelonious. He threw his daughter a wink, his fingers expertly dealing the table their next hand. She quickly sketched out his wide smile and messy flop of hair, trying to infuse as much detail of her father as she could with just simple lines and shading.

She curved out the laugh lines that surrounded his eyes, and the light stubble that dusted his strong jaw. People were her favorite to draw. More so than landscapes and abstracts. There was so much expression she could capture in someone's face, or in the way they held themselves in any particular moment.

Clarke began on the rest of the table once she'd finished with the rough outline of her father. Wells was sitting next to him playing a game of chess against a timid girl with long brown hair. He smiled at her, Clarke returning it politely before her gaze moved back to the gazebo and to the dance class that had now drawn to a close.

As she did, a small turn of butterflies lodged themselves in Clarke's stomach. Her eyes were caught on familiar braided hair and swirls of black ink that ran up bare arms.

And that something from the main hall coiled at the sight.

Lexa was leaning against one of the wooden supports, talking to Octavia with a clipboard in hand. Octavia was smiling at what was being said, before bending to collect her things. Clarke couldn't help but stare. Lexa's dark skinny jeans and loose tank showed off her toned legs and arms perfectly, Clarke chewing on the inside of her lip at the sight. Her fingers itched to add her to her half finished sketch. The girl practically begged to be drawn.

As if she could feel the weight of her stare, Lexa's gaze flicked up to meet Clarke's across the beach. Those eyes were as intense as they were the previous night. Vivid memories of them on the dance floor came back to the forefront of Clarke's mind; memories of the girl's skin beneath her fingertips, and of her lips being so close. It was unnerving, Clarke's stomach burning low as Lexa watched her curiously, Octavia still zipping up her gym bag.

Clarke hadn't stayed much longer at the cabin party after Lexa had disappeared. And from what Clarke could tell she hadn't resurfaced again for the rest of the night, spotting Octavia over by the DJ booth, chatting happily to Jasper and Monty.

She's not interested.

"Would you cover for me tonight?"

Clarke brought her attention back to Raven, effectively breaking her eye contact with Lexa. Finn had moved on, no longer hovering over them. "Where are you going?"

"The golf course." Raven had a smirk on her lips, her eyes closed beneath her Ray Bans. "There's definitely a whole-in-one joke somewhere there."

"Raven," Clarke berated. "Gross."

Raven sighed, the eye roll implied. "Will you?"

"You so owe me."

Clarke shook her head. Raven merely grinned, her hand absently going to her left leg and rubbing the muscles surrounding the long scar.

When Clarke looked back, Lexa had left the gazebo and was heading to the dance studios further up the hill. She glanced at Clarke on her way past, her lips set in a hard line. But those eyes held that look Clarke had seen the night before. The same one she saw in the dark light, as those lips traced Octavia's skin.

"Okay, what was that?"

Clarke startled; Raven had that infuriating look in her eyes again.

"Shut up and make yourself useful," Clarke deflected. She threw a bottle of lotion in her direction, before closing her sketchpad and placing it to the side. Raven caught the tube with a huff and sat up in her chair. She squeezed a small amount into her hand and began rubbing the sunscreen over Clarke's exposed back.

"You're so screwed, Princess," Raven chuckled, kneading her shoulders affectionately.

Tell me about it.

Thousands of bright stars reflected off the still surface of the wide lake, the mirrored effect making the night look endless. The sight was something that Clarke never thought she could quite capture on paper, and one that no photograph really ever seemed to do justice. It was beautiful. Living in New York, Clarke never got to see so many stars all at once, the city lights stealing them away each night.

Raven had long since left for the golf course with Finn, slipping away after dessert. Clarke had done her best to fend off her parents' questioning, but they seemed satisfied by the excuses she'd given. Clarke wasn't surprised. She'd never given either of them a reason to doubt her, so she didn't see it starting tonight.

She was leaning against the wooden railing of the large gazebo, her blue dress billowing gently with the cool breeze that was coming in off the water. Thelonious had invited the Griffins to a small cocktail party by the lake to meet some of the other guests. A handful of the entertainment staff had joined in on the festivities as well, dancing and mingling with everyone under the fairy lights that were strung up underneath the rafters.

"You're not dancing, Abby?" Thelonious was standing off to Clarke's left with her parents. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back as he watched over the proceedings, ever the gracious host.

Jake smiled. "We're waiting for something a little more upbeat."

"Ah. Of course."

Lexa was under the lights too, dancing with an older male guest in the center of the room. She made it look effortless, like the first night Clarke had seen her in the main hall with Octavia. Like she was gliding across the floor. She was wearing a dark green dress that fell just below the knee, and her hair was pulled back to show more of her neck and angular jawline.

The sight was more than a little distracting, and Clarke wasn't the only one who seemed to have noticed. Octavia's brother, Bellamy, was dancing close by with an older brunette. The woman had a wide smile playing on her lips, her eye line straying over the man's shoulder and lingering on Lexa. Her eyes had a slight glint to them, her smile pinching at the corners as she continued to stare at the girl. And Clarke hated the fact that it made her stomach bottom out as much as it did.

You've known the girl for all of five minutes, Clarke. Get a hold of yourself.

"Thelonious, aren't my lessons paying off?" the woman dancing with Bellamy called over her shoulder.

"You look great, Cece." Jaha lowered his voice as she continued to slow dance with the younger man, "That's Cece Kane. Her husband, Marcus, only comes up on weekends," he conceded, before adding dryly, "It's a real hardship."

"Kane. As in the New York State senator?"

"One and the same."

Clarke's attention was still on Lexa, rather than her parents, when Wells approached her. "Where's Octavia?" His tone sounded more like an accusation than a question. "People have started to notice."

"She's just taking a break." Lexa's expression was stoic and drawn. Clarke was beginning to get the impression that the two were far from amicable, a level of animosity boiling beneath the surface.

"Just make sure it's not an all night one, Woods." Lexa gave Wells a short nod, her hand retaking her partner's, the other resting on the small of her back.

Wells made his way back over to his father's side, weaving through the crowded dance floor. But he paused in front of Clarke, offering her his hand, "Wanna take a walk?"

"Sure, why not?" Clarke murmured, letting him lead the way.

She ignored how her mother's eyes lit up at the gesture.

Leaving behind the bright lights, Wells led them down to a boardwalk that overlooked a tiny stream. It wound its way through the tree line and into the forest that stretched out in front of them.

Clarke could feel Wells edging closer to her from where they'd stopped against a low railing. She shivered involuntarily, their proximity and the steady breeze sending goose bumps across her exposed skin. It only took a moment for Clarke to feel the weight of a suit jacket coming to rest on her shoulders, making the girl stiffen.

"Look, Wells. I-"

"It's fine, Clarke." She looked up at him in surprise. He was smiling softly at her, his expression tinged with a light edge of disappointment. "I get it. But it's just a jacket. You looked cold."

"I'm sorry."

She didn't know why she was apologizing. She didn't have anything to be sorry for. But he really was a good guy and a part of her hated that she may have hurt him. She threaded her arms through the long sleeves, savoring the warmth.

"I'll live," he shrugged. He placed a tentative arm around her shoulders in a friendly gesture. It felt nice, Clarke smiling up at the young man, and shifting closer.

"You're an ass."

The sharp and angry words had the pair snapping up to see Raven and Finn walking back from the golf course. They were trudging up a dirt path through the thin line of trees to their right. Raven huffed, fixing the skirt of her dress and setting a good pace in front of the waiter.

"Come on, Raven."

"Fuck you."

Clarke didn't need to listen to the rest of the conversation. She knew what it would be about. She'd seen it before with guys like Finn. She could just see the look on his face as his hands touched the very real proof of the life she'd lead before joining her family. She could see the heat dim in his eyes. And she could see Raven's walls falling into place at the change.

"I'm sorry you had see that," Wells murmured beside her, his arm still resting on her shoulders.

"It's fine, Wells," Clarke assured him. "Raven can take care of herself."

They were quiet for a moment; Wells dropping his arm back to his side. "You hungry?" Clarke merely shrugged, Wells steering her back up the front lawns toward the main house.

Wells wasn't bad company. Clarke was mildly surprised about how much they had in common and how easy it felt to be around him. He chatted happily with her as they pushed through the now empty dining hall. The wait staff were preparing the tables for breakfast the next morning with fresh linen and silverware, not paying either of them any mind.

"So, you can have anything you want." Wells opened the large two-door fridge nestled in the back of the enormous kitchen. "Black forest cake, ice-cream, sticky date pudding."

Wells continued to list the restaurant's dessert menu just as Clarke heard a sharp intake of breath. She caught it over the light hum of the open door, causing her to turn her ear to the end of the long stainless steel benches that surrounded them. It wasn't until Wells opened the second door that Clarke spotted the silhouette of Octavia huddled next to the dishwashers. Her back was resting against the far wall of the kitchen, her knees brought tightly to her chest.

Octavia was watching them with fearful eyes, her mascara streaking down her cheeks as she attempted to stifle her tears, swallowing hard.

"Truffles?" Wells was looking at Clarke expectantly, completely oblivious to the crying girl not 20 feet away.

Shit shit shit!

"Actually, Wells, I should probably head back to the cabin, check on Raven."

"You sure?" Wells looked surprised, the fridge door still wide open beside him.

"Yeah, I should go."

Clarke practically pushed him toward the exit and away from Octavia.

As soon as she was back under the gazebo lights, Clarke found Lincoln carrying a large wooden crate, heading toward the bar. His eyes widened in surprise when they saw her approaching, setting it behind the counter. "I just saw Octavia in the kitchen," she whispered to him, her hand gripping his bicep. "It didn't look good, Lincoln."

The words had barely left her lips before he was rushing over to Lexa, dragging her away from her dance partner. Clarke could see the girl's green eyes blaze wildly and turn dark as her friend relayed the message.

"Why's she here?" Lexa asked, walking swiftly up the green lawns, the moonlight turning the grass a shade of white. Her tone was clipped, not looking at anything but the main house atop the hill.

"I brought her in case Wells comes looking." Lexa sighed heavily, quicken her pace. "It'll be fine, Lex. O wouldn't do anything stupid."

"What's the matter with her?" Clarke questioned, trying to keep up. "Did something happen?"

Lincoln looked pained as he spared a glance at Clarke. He lowered his voice to barely above a whisper, "She's pregnant."

"Lincoln," Lexa scolded. The look she fixed on Clarke would have stopped her dead in her tracks if they weren't in such a rush. It made Clarke's mouth go dry. It was full of fire and concern, and Clarke saw a touch of genuine fear as well in those dark eyes.

They pushed through the kitchen doors, striding to the back where Clarke had last seen the disheveled girl, ignoring the curious glances from the waiters and busboys in the dining room.

Octavia was in Lexa's arms in seconds. Her hands gripped desperately at bare shoulders, strong arms pulling her in. "It's okay. I'm here." Octavia crumpled in the embrace, looking smaller than Clarke had ever seen her. "We gotta go," Lexa whispered, her voice strained.

Lexa scooped her up with surprising ease, Octavia's head falling to the crook of her neck. "Hold on. I got you."

She carried her out to the main area of the deserted kitchen. Lincoln and Clarke had held back during their exchange, concern clearly etched on his strong features.

"Let me," he began.

But Lexa just shook her head, leaving no room for discussion, the four heading out the rear entrance.

"If something's wrong, you can talk to me." Lexa wrapped a blanket around Octavia's shoulders, before sitting down next to her on the old couch. "You know that."

They'd ended up in the staff quarters, in the large cabin from the previous night. It looked different in the harsh down lights, no longer shadowed in the haze of sweaty bodies and the heavy thrum of music. It was bigger than Clarke remembered, the girl hanging back by the front doors.

"You can forget it, Lexa. I know what you're thinking and I'm not taking your money."

"Octavia, that's my business." Her tone was gentle, softer than Clarke thought possible.

"It wouldn't be enough anyway." Lincoln came over with drinks in hand, passing them cautiously to the two girls, which they took gladly. "It's fucking hopeless."

At these words Clarke pushed forward. "There has to be another option."

Octavia looked up from the glass in her hands. Her eyes were tinged red, but the tears were dry. "Clarke, is that your name?" She nodded stiffly at the utter defeat in her voice. "You don't know shit about my problems, Clarke."

Lincoln bit his lip next to her, "I told her."

"Shit, Linc."Octavia stared at him, incredulous.

"What about your brother?" Clarke suggested.

"No, no, don't tell Bellamy, he'd go ape shit." A flicker of real fear passed over her hazel eyes. "He'd kill Finn."

"He's not the only one," Lincoln muttered under his breath, his jaw clenching.

Clarke's eyes went wide at the mention of the waiter's name. "Finn?"

"Clarke." Lexa was up out of her chair, but Lincoln placed a placating hand on her arm.

"One of the chefs knows a doctor. Just travelling through on business one day next week. We can get her an appointment but it costs money. Money we don't have," Lincoln explained. "At least not all of it."

"If you're talking about what I think you are, just go to a clinic." Clarke was talking directly to Octavia, the girl refusing to meet her eye. "You'd be crazy-"

Octavia shook her head profusely, not letting Clarke finish. "No, not gonna happen. No hospitals or clinics."

Clarke huffed. She'd seen too many girls pass through her mother's hospital to know the dangers of what she was considering. "Well if it's Finn's, it's not a problem. I know he has the money. If you just tell him."

"He knows," Octavia sighed, shaking her head. "Just go back to your castle, Princess."

Her words stung. More than they really should have given the circumstances. Clarke met Lexa's sharp gaze. It sent ice through her veins at how cold those eyes were compared to how deep and warm they had been only an hour ago.

With a sigh of her own, Clarke turned to leave, grabbing Lincoln's arm at the same time. Lexa and Octavia went back to their conversation, their voices hushed.

"How much?"

Lincoln's lips were pursed. "Clarke."

"How much?" she asked with more force.

Lincoln relented. "From what she can cover, $250."

Clarke nodded, sparing one last glance at the two girls before walking out.

"So that's it? You're just gonna do nothing?" Clarke was trying to dampen her anger at the boy's reluctance, but it simmered beneath the surface, ready to explode. "That's not right."

"And just where do you get off telling me what's right, Princess?" he asked, placing a basket of fresh bread in the middle of the table."Because from where I'm standing, you've only got half the story."

Clarke gritted her teeth, hating that he had a point. "You can't just leave her, Finn."

Clarke had walked into the main dining hall just before lunch to find Finn placing stainless steel pitchers filled with ice-cold water down on perfectly set tables. He smiled widely at her when she approached, Clarke not bothering with such pleasantries.

Finn shook his head, "I'm sorry, but I didn't waste my whole summer at this place just to bail out a girl that's probably been with every guy here." He didn't look at Clarke as he continued to arrange the place settings. "Did she tell you that she fell into bed with the lifeguard, Atom, the day after we slept together?"

Clarke remained silent.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," Finn ascertained from her lack of response.

"So that's it?" Clarke repeated, a certain resolve in her tone.

"Yeah, that's it. I've already wasted enough of my time on that girl. I'm not wasting my money too."

Clarke took a step closer, her stare blank. "You're an ass. Stay away from me, and stay away from Raven." As she spoke, Clarke grabbed one of the pitchers from the nearest table, pouring the contents down the front of Finn's slate blue slacks. "Because if you don't, I promise you'll be getting a lot worse than blue ball."

Clarke let the pitcher clatter to the floor at his feet, before walking out, leaving Finn in a stunned silence.

She shaded dark green trees, and the setting sun that had turned the still water a brilliant burnt orange. She curved out the mountains in the distance, the teenagers diving off the old wooden jetty, and the flame torches that lined the waters edge. She let out her frustrations, losing herself in her art until that's all she thought about. Losing herself in lines, and angles, and composition.

She was perched on top of the roof of her family's cabin, the view overlooking the entire Mountain House. She could see the football game down by the green lawns, and the guests by the poolside bars, and all the way up to the staff quarters that sat on the hillside. The dim cabin lights shone through the trees, as the sky gradually got darker.

It truly was beautiful, Clarke taking in a deep breath as she continued her sketching. Using her thumb, she smoothed over the harsh lines of the mountains, obscuring their peaks, before switching to a forest green. The stark color stood out against the dark grey of the graphite that took up the rest of the page.

Her confrontation with Finn was still playing on her mind. Clarke knew he was wrong in doing nothing, even if he'd had good reason in his own mind in doing so. He was hurt, but that didn't change the fact that he was effectively abandoning the girl. And that alone was enough for Clarke to dislike the boy.

She pushed the thoughts of him away; concentrating on the dark curved lines she'd created in the middle of the lake. They were how she remembered them in the cabin the night before, those eyes a mixture of fire and ice. Clarke colored the irises that swam in the water of the lake. The gentle waves that pushed out off the sand gave the illusion of tear marks dragging down phantom cheeks; shadow shrouding the dark green orbs that were Lexa's eyes.

They were beautiful even in darkness.

She didn't think too much on why she was sketching her eyes, not wanting to dwell on the reasons she was drawing a girl she'd only known for three days. She put it down to passing inspiration, and not down to anything deeper.

She just has nice eyes, that's all.

It was beginning to get too dark for Clarke to see her sketchbook, the sun dipping behind the mountains in the distance. She promptly closed it, dusting off the back of her shorts, before climbing down the wooden lattice that dropped to her cabin's small terrace.

She didn't head back inside. She could hear Raven and her parents getting ready for dinner, the shower turning off in the main bedroom. Instead she set off up the familiar path that led to the staff quarters, the money she'd taken from her wallet heavy in her pocket.

When Clarke pushed through the double doors, she was met with two-dozen bodies, all close and in their own worlds. The music was slow, like a warm down after an intense work out. It had the couples swaying with heads on shoulders, or stray lips pressed to necks.

It didn't take long for Clarke to find who she was looking for, spotting Lexa and Octavia in a loose embrace near the DJ booth, pulling them to the side.

"Here." Clarke passed Octavia the folded stack of bills, watching as her eyes grew wide.

"Finn?"

Clarke shook her head. "You were right about him."

"Then where did you get this?"

Clarke shrugged. "You said you needed it."

"Are you serious?" Octavia's mouth was gaping in momentary shock.

Lexa just looked at Clarke, her expression guarded. "It takes a real saint to ask your mother."

"It's mine, actually," Clarke retorted at the assumption.

Lexa raised her eyebrows in response, a hint of a smile playing on her lips as she sipped at her beer.

"Thanks, Clarke. But I can't use it." Octavia returned the money with a sullen expression. The girl pulled Lexa close again, resuming their previous position.

"What are you doing?" Lexa hissed, trying to get Octavia to meet her eye. But Octavia had rested her chin on Lexa's shoulder, burying her face in the other girl's neck.

Lincoln, who was hovering nearby, pulled Clarke closer to the turntables, "I can only get her an appointment for Saturday. But they do their act at TonDC on Saturday night. If they cancel they lose everything. Their paycheck and their regular spot."

Clarke quirked her brow in confusion, "What's TonDC?"

"It's a club downtown. They do a performance there every few months."

Clarke brought her attention back to the two girls, "Can't someone else do it?"

Lexa stopped, inching back from Octavia. "No, Clarke," she stated flatly. "Echo has to work all day, so she can't learn the routine. Anya has to fill in for Octavia. Everyone works here." Clarke could feel Lexa's temper rising with each word. "What, do you wanna do it?"

"Lexa." Octavia put a gentle hand on the side of her neck to calm her. It worked, Lexa's shoulders relaxing at the touch.

Lincoln frowned, "It's not a bad idea."

"I wasn't being serious."

"You've danced with her before, Lexa. So I know you know she can move. What's the big deal?"

"She wouldn't-"

"I'm literally right here," Clarke injected, getting irritated by the fact that they were talking about her as if she wasn't even there.

Lexa's stare was almost daring, a challenge touching the edge of those perfect lips. They brushed over the tip of her beer, those eyes mirroring Clarke's sketch.

I'm so going to regret this.

"I'll do it."