Chapter Text
"Hey, check this out, Bones. This TV is even cooler than mine. It's got built-in music channels," Clarke called out, scrolling through the list onscreen. "Look at this, there's even Netflix and Hulu and stuff on here. Damn, maybe it's time to upgrade my TV too. Put the old one in Madi's room, she's been begging me and now that she's gonna be spending more time at my place, y'know.."
Her face had lit up, of course, the way it did every time she was reminded of the new custody agreement; the joy clearly filling every visible inch of her expression.
Lexa sighed, but it was good-natured and accompanied by an affectionate smile. "You could just keep that one if you wanted. I told you I didn't need a television, Clarke. I mean, it's incredibly thoughtful of you, and it's not at all that I don't appreciate it." She paused, shrugging awkwardly. "It's just.. it's a very expensive gift. I mean, you could at least let me pay you back for it."
"Oh, shut up, already." Clarke rolled her eyes. "You got me a corner office, I got you a Roku. Partner stuff, Bones! And look, see? You don't even have to watch television. There's like, 400 channels of just music. You like music!"
She paused, then added, "I mean, theoretically. I'm not sure most of your collection actually qualifies as music to normal humans, but.."
Lexa stood from the bookshelf she'd been assembling and wiped the sweat from her brow. "I have a stereo, you know. I'm not a Luddite."
"No, you're a little bit of a Luddite, Bones. Just cause you finally figured out how your Alexa works after a year and a half doesn't suddenly make you Steve Jobs."
"Besides, this is way cooler than the radio," Clarke scrolled down the list, changing the channel when something looked good. A new song was just starting, and she pointed at the screen. "See that? It shows you the song title, artist name, release date, all the album info. It's even got the lyrics on screen, and related trivia and facts. I mean, come on, that's cool, right? You can't get all that with a boring old stereo."
Lexa smiled slowly, beginning to warm to the idea--or at least, to Clarke's excitement about it.
"That is a very informative display. And I have rather enjoyed watching the Smithsonian channel at your house, and these past few weeks at the hotel. I've also enjoyed having room service and a staff to clean up after me," she admitted.
Clarke pouted at her, giving Lexa her best and most pathetically irresistible doe eyes. "So, my little raccoon, my new friend can stay?"
Lexa chuffed, shaking her head a little. "Objectively ridiculous," she noted, picking up a box and carrying into her new kitchen. "The TV is fine, but I'm not so sure you can stay."
"So, that's a yes? We can keep her?" Clarke asked hopefully, and pumped her fist in the air when Lexa rolled her eyes and waved her off. "Yesss. Score one for Special Agent Sunshine and her magic idiot box."
"Don't remind me how dumb television makes you," Lexa requested. "Or your friend has to go after all. And it's not magic, it's science."
"My friend apologizes for my behavior," Clarke replied with her best innocent expression, then changed the channel again with a hopeful smile. "We'll behave, we promise. And we won't disrespect science by calling it magic anymore. Swear to Margaret Mead." Clarke even put three fingers in the air and solemnly swore, "Girl scout's honor."
Lexa just laughed, shaking her head a little. Clarke flipped the channel again, and a flicker of recognition briefly crossed Lexa's face as Bobby Darrin filled both the screen and the room.
Clarke smiled knowingly; she knew it couldn't be just Billy Joel and the Tibetan monks. Even Bones wasn't that narrow.
At least, she wasn't anymore.
"Call me irresponsible," the song began with its opening notes, and Clarke clapped happily, setting the remote aside once more.
"Call me unreliable," Clarke chimed in, throwing her arm out to Lexa and inviting her to join in.
"Clarke, no," Lexa shook her head, abandoning her box in the kitchen as she came back into the living room to give Clarke a stern look.
"Throw in, undependable too," Clarke sang out loudly, ignoring Lexa and starting to dance around the room alone instead; in what appeared to be an extremely ostentatious take on Frank Sinatra's best moves as she harmonized.
"Clarke, don't, please?" Lexa practically whined. "The last time you serenaded me, you got blown up."
"Aw, come on, Bones. I mean, honestly, what are the odds of that happening again?" Clarke shook her head, continuing. "Do my foolish alibis, bore you? Well, I'm not too clever.."
Clarke took Lexa's hands in hers, leaning in to kiss one and smiling as she spoke the next line softly, her gaze finding nothing of interest in the entire world at the moment, besides Lexa herself. "I just adore you.."
"Clarke," she repeated, but it was incredibly affectionate this time, and she was very rapidly melting.
Clarke shrugged and gave her a goofy grin. "Call me unpredictable, tell me I'm impractical.."
"You are impractical," Lexa chided, laughing softly as Clarke pushed and pulled her arms gently, coaxing her to dance. "And ridiculous. Completely ridiculous."
"Rainbows," Clarke belted out shamelessly, likely rattling the windows of Lexa's new neighbors as she waved her arms wildly. "I'm inclined to pursuuuue.."
Lexa rolled her eyes, laughing as she finally gave in, finally chiming in with Clarke and Bobby. "Call me, irresponsible. Yes, I'm unreliable.."
"But it's undeniably true," Clarke twirled her in place, then drew her into a playful tango as she laughed helplessly. "That I'm irresponsibly mad, for you.."
Lexa smirked lightly. "Oh, just... shut up and kiss me," she commanded. "You objectively ridiculous mess."
"Yes, ma'am," Clarke replied agreeably, obediently leaning in to obey her command.
♾
"Here, this is for you," Lexa handed Clarke her coat, as well as an unmarked courier folder.
"What's this?" Clarke asked with curiosity, slinging her jacket over her shoulder and starting to open it. "Something to do with the case?"
"No," Lexa shook her head. "And don't open it now. Wait until you get home. It's not about a case, it's more of a.. partner thing. To celebrate."
"A celebratory partner thing?" Clarke replied, smiling a little. "So, it's official, then?"
"Pending my full cognitive assessment next week indicating no dangerous deficits," Lexa nodded, smiling a little proudly and puffing her chest out just a little bit in a most adorable kind of way. "I've been contracted to the FBI and assigned as your field partner."
Clarke smiled widely, quickly and somewhat unexpectedly, hugging the anthropologist. "Bones, that's great! You should've told me sooner! You had your meeting with Diyoza, then? It went okay?"
Lexa shrugged a little, then nodded. "I mean, except for the part where she still won't let me have a gun. I did point out to her that I can just get one privately if the FBI won't license me, but she didn't seem to like that idea very much, and then she took some aspirin and politely asked me to leave."
Clarke just smiled, resting her hand on her shoulder affectionately. "You know what, Bones? You can have my gun."
♾
Clarke got into her car and stuck the key in the ignition, but didn't start it yet. Instead, she grabbed the mysterious manila folder Lexa had given her and opened it.
A thick, neat stack of black and white printed paper lay inside, bound at one side, and she slid it out, furrowing her brow as she read off the first page.
"Rattlesnake Bones, by Lexa Woods," Clarke read softly to herself.
It was a copy of Bones' new book, and the date at the bottom indicated that the final draft had been submitted for publication about a month before Clarke had made her 'ain't too proud to beg' call to Lexa asking for a second chance.
Obviously, then, it was written even prior to that; presumably mostly during the time when they had supposedly both believed Lexa would never even speak to her again.
Her eyes dropped to the summary. It was categorized as pulp crime-- a fairly significant departure from even her other works of fiction--and it told, apparently, 'The dark tale of a dedicated but haunted private investigator and an emotionally closed-off forensic anthropologist. Forced to work together despite an unpleasant shared past, they must both learn to trust again as they're swept up into a world of organized crime, betrayal, and murder in the Louisiana swamplands.'
The tagline which stretched beneath the title read simply, What would you do with a second chance?
Clarke turned the page, her breath catching tightly in her throat as she softly read the dedication inscription out loud.
"To my partner & friend,
FBI Special Agent Clarke Griffin,
in hopes of another chance.
May we meet again.
Bones."
Clarke slowly smiled, her heart filling up her chest as she gave a little nod and touched her name on the page affectionately. She set it carefully down on the passenger seat and smiled once more as she turned the key in the ignition.
"Nice," she remarked emotionally, nodding to herself again. "That was really.. just awfully nice of you, Bones."
Go ahead and call me
Irresponsible
I admit, I'm unreliable
But it is undeniably true
That I'm irresponsibly
Mad for you
🦴 THE ♾ END 🦴
Next time on season two of Bones: The Girl in the Flame:
Clarke glanced at Lexa unsurely. "Don’t get upset. There’s been a development.. in the Calliope Cadogan case."
Lexa frowned, quickly holding her hand out for the file folder, which Clarke reluctantly handed over.
"Who?" Echo asked, shaking her head a bit in confusion.
"Calliope Cadogan," Clarke replied emotionlessly. "Her body was found burned to almost nothing. Her father, this weird cult leader named Bill Cadogan, was convicted of her murder, and he’s been on death row ever since."
"Oh-kay.." Echo looked confused. "Why would that be upsetting?"
"Well," Clarke cleared her throat nervously. "The new evidence suggests that he might not have done it."
"Uh-huh," Echo shook her head a little, but Clarke was looking at Lexa, who was scanning the file.
"That he.. Most definitely did not do it," Clarke heaved a sigh. "And that means the person who put him on death row was.." Clarke cleared her throat, looking sick. "Incorrect. In their expert testimony."
Echo blinked. "And who was that?"
Lexa quietly closed the file folder and set it down on her desk, looking at it unhappily as she replied listlessly, "That would be me."
