Work Header

Where In The World Is Waldo?

Work Text:

"She went that way!" someone dressed as a half-assed zombie said, a cloud of beer breath hitting Lexa a second later. She followed their pointing arm (which had nearly taken out Sexy Nurse #69 – Lexa smirked at her own mental joke) trying to figure out who 'she' was and why she was supposed to care.

"Oops," the zombie said. "Lost her again."

"Lost who?" Lexa asked, even though there was very little hope of getting a straight answer.

"Your girlfriend," they said.

Lexa frowned. Her girlfriend? She didn't have a girlfriend. Unless Costia had had a change of heart and decided she needed to make a Grand Gesture by flying across the country to pop up at a random Halloween party that Lexa had only decided to attend last minute. Which seemed pretty damn unlikely, considering Lexa had literally just received a text from her pressed cheek-to-cheek with her new girlfriend, Costia in a unicorn onesie and her girlfriend dressed as Hermione Granger In Pajamas, a bowl of fun-size candy bars in their laps and a stack of horror movies piled next to Costia's hip. 'Have fun!' she'd said.

'I doubt it,' Lexa had answered, almost regretting initiating the exchange by sending a picture of her own costume, which was entirely Costia's fault.

So yeah. Whoever they'd seen – whoever they were – it hadn't been her ex-girlfriend.

"Right," she said. "Thanks." She edged her way past them and everyone else who had decided the best place to stop and chat was right in front of the damn doorway. She kept her eyes peeled for Anya, who had insisted she could not miss this party, that it was the event of the year and anyway, the money from the cover charge all went to charity so it was her civic duty to show up.

"You made it!" Anya said, her hands clamping on Lexa's shoulders like vises, if vises also had talons. Lexa had never managed to figure out how someone with short nails made her fingertips so damn pointy. Anya spun Lexa around to face her and her face scrunched in consideration. "I can't decide if your costume is awesome or lazy as fuck."

"Insert 'both is good' dot gif here," Lexa said.

Now Anya's face twisted so hard it threatened to turn itself inside-out (which would be a hell of a Halloween mask, admittedly, not that Anya didn't look absolutely stunning in her Wonder Woman costume). "You did not just say that."

"Pretty sure I did, actually," Lexa said. "Hashtag sorry not sorry."

Anya's eyes fluttered shut like she was in pain, or praying to the God of Hilarious Best Friends to give her strength. "And you wonder why you're single?"

"Nope," Lexa said. "Although apparently I'm not. According to The Wobbling Dead at the door, my girlfriend went—" Lexa reoriented herself and pointed, "that way."

"Ohhh... kaaaaay..." Anya turned her head slowly to look where Lexa was pointing, but of course there was nothing to see. Or, more accurately, there was plenty to see but neither of them knew what they were looking for.

"That's pretty much what I said," Lexa told her. "But yeah, I made it. You're welcome."

Anya rolled her eyes. "Go find your girlfriend," she said, giving her a little push. "I need to go check on the refreshment situation. We do not want a repeat of the Great KitKatastrophe."

"Do I want to ask?" Lexa asked.

"You do," Anya said, "but you don't want to know. Now go. Mingle. Pretend you are socially ept."

Lexa grinned. "I told you! I told you I was going to make 'ept' a thing!"

Another deep breath and quick prayer to the Goddess of It's A Word Now, and Anya disappeared into the crowd, leaving Lexa alone. She turned in a tight circle, trying to decide which way to go (other than straight back toward the exit, because she didn't want to deal with Anya's 'I'm not surprised, just disappointed' looks for the next several days. Lexa finally spotted the biggest bowl of candy she'd ever seen (was it a bowl or a baby pool?) and started to make her way toward it... only to be stopped a minute later by Glinda grabbing her arm and shedding glitter all over her.

"Oh my god, that is the cutest couples' costume I've ever seen!"

"Hey!" her companion – Elphaba, natch – said.

Glinda pushed up on her silver-sparkly toes and brushed her lips against Elphie's cheek, and Lexa was surprised when they didn't come away green. Apparently the Wicked Witch knew a thing or two about makeup application. "You know what I mean," she said. "It's so creative!"

"Thanks," Lexa said. "Um... I don't suppose you saw which way... she... went?"

"I think she was heading for the restroom," Elphaba said, gesturing vaguely. "Or maybe outside?"

"Thanks," Lexa said. "I like your costumes, too." She narrowly dodged being bibbidy-bobbidy-bopped by Glinda's wand as she headed toward her... whoever she was... after a quick dip into the candy pool.

Clarke pushed herself up on her toes (not that it made much difference since she was already wearing heels, which seemed like particularly impractical footwear for someone who was always on the run) and scanned the crowd. She'd found Octavia once not long after arriving and Raven twice, but never both of them together. Then she'd needed a restroom and in the few minutes she was in there the crowd appeared to have doubled, and her chances of finding her friends dropped from somewhere around 'if you're lucky' to 'yeah, good luck with that.'

What she did find, though, was that this school, or at least this party, was full of unclever Rockapella wannabes... and a few who did manage to put together rhymes and carry a tune well enough to make her smile.

She also found several helpful people who grabbed her excitedly and pointed her in various directions with no explanation as to who they were, what they were doing it, or why they were doing it. She blamed the fact that whoever was in charge of the music had turned the volume up to 11, making conversation next to impossible.

"You just missed her!" someone told her. Clarke turned and found herself looking into the earnest face of a character from a video game or comic book that she'd definitely seen on Tumblr but didn't know the name of.

"Missed who?" Clarke asked, leaning in to make herself heard, glad when she discovered the spikes on her informant's armor were made of foam.

"Your girlfriend!" he – she was pretty sure the costume-wearer was a he... less sure about the character he was portraying – said. "Or boyfriend? I shouldn't assume. Theyfriend?" Clarke smiled, partly to put him at ease and partly because 'theyfriend' was objectively amusing. "Waldo," he clarified.

"Waldo?" Clarke frowned. "Who's Waldo?"

"Don't you mean, 'Where's Waldo?'" he asked, literally wink-wink-nudge-nudging her.

"Oh!" Clarke's eyes went wide as the pieces of the puzzle slid into place. There was someone here dressed as Waldo, and everyone assumed they were here together. Which on one hand was a pretty big assumption to make, but on the other... damn, if it wouldn't make a clever set of costumes for a couple. "Which way did you say they went?"

"I didn't," he admitted. "I saw them, but then they disappeared again. I think maybe that way?" He shrugged. "Sorry."

"No worries," Clarke said. "Thanks!" She flashed him a smile and ducked under the giant (foam) weapon (or maybe magical staff? or both?) strapped across his back and back into the ebb and flow of human (and non-human, and superhuman, and everything in between) bodies. Because now she had a mission.

She fished her phone out of her trench coat pocket and tapped out a message into her group text with Raven and Octavia.

Clarke: If you see Waldo, let me know!

Octavia: Waldo?

Raven: Okay........ why?

Clarke: Because half this party has already decided he/she/they are my boy/girl/theyfriend and I intend to find out if they're right.

Raven: Hell yeah! Get it, Griff!

Octavia: Okay but who the hell is waldo?!

Clarke did a quick search and sent a picture of the perpetually missing, bespectacled red-and-white menace to Octavia, reminding herself that Octavia had been raised by wolves (or her older brother, which was basically the same thing only way more annoying) and had missed out on a lot of normal childhood experiences. Including, apparently, Where's Waldo?

Octavia: Got it. I'll keep an eye out.

Octavia: Until Lincoln gets here, anyway. 😉

Clarke: Thanks. 😘

Clarke: 😜

She made a pit stop at the world's largest candy bowl (probably not, but it was big enough that the mini candy bars inside looked like pieces of cereal) to fuel up, and snagged a bottle of water from a cooler, grateful for the fact that she'd chosen a costume with numerous (and voluminous) pockets. Where did Sexy Fill-In-The-Blank keep anything?

Probably better not to think too hard about that, she told herself, tearing into a Twix and biting it in half. She scanned the room and thought she saw a flash of red. She was just starting to close in on it when she discovered what she'd thought was a red pom-pom was actually a tiny top hat perched on a (sexy) devil's head.

Damn it.

"I'm going to find you," Clarke muttered. "You can't hide forever."

Lexa's heart leapt into her throat when an arm dropped around her shoulders. It took all her restraint not to drive her elbow into her attacker's solar plexus... because it wasn't an attacker. It was Anya. Again. "You have got to stop doing that," she muttered.

"But it's so much fun," Anya said. "Speaking of fun... are you having any?" She sounded serious, concerned, even, and like she was bracing herself for Lexa to say she was miserable and wanted to go home.

Which she would have been, except she was too busy trying to figure out where in the world (party) Carmen Sandiego was.

"Yes, actually," she said, and explained as she best she could about the tips she kept getting from fellow partygoers who seemed to think trying to help her solve the mystery and catch the criminal was the greatest party game since beer pong.

"What are you gonna do when you find her?" Anya asked.

"Tell her she's my long-lost girlfriend?" Lexa joked.

Anya's face creased with judgement. She had a very judgey face when she wanted to. "Lame," she said.

"Cuff her and tell her I'm taking her to... shoot, what was the agency that was after her? ACME?"

"Better," Anya said. "Also... kinky." She waggled her eyebrows.

"You're a pervert," Lexa said. "And too bad for you, I don't have cuffs."

"One, I've seen at least half a dozen fake cops around here," Anya said. "If you wanted cuffs, you could find cuffs. Two, too bad for you, you mean. And her, if she's into that."

"If she's into me, you mean," Lexa said, doubt bubbling up. It was just a bit of fun, a way to pass the time, but what was she going to do when she found Carmen (or whatever her name was)? What if she didn't think it was as funny as Lexa did? What if she thought she was completely off her rocker? What if— "Ow!" She rubbed at the spot where Anya had just jabbed one of her pointy, pointy fingers into the center of her forehead.

"Don't overthink it," Anya said.

"I'm not—"

"Bullshit. You totally are. I can see it."

"You're the one who wanted to know what I was going to do when I found her," Lexa sulked. "Before that I wasn't thinking past finding her."

Anya rolled her eyes. "Fine. Go back to that, then. Just find her and see where it takes you. I'll keep an eye out for some cuffs."

"Or you could not do that," Lexa suggested. "That would be great."

"Too late," Anya said. "I'm already on it." And she slunk off into the crowd after a (sexy) Texas Ranger, if Lexa had to guess based on the hat and boots.

"Damn it," Lexa said. But maybe if the ranger was Anya's type, she would forget all about Lexa and make use of the cuffs herself. Which Lexa wasn't going to think about. She wasn't going to think about anything but finding the next person who could give her a clue (hopefully without turning it into a song-and-dance...) about her International Woman of Mystery's whereabouts.

Clarke: Anything?

Clarke sent the message, hoping maybe Raven or Octavia had spotted Waldo. She'd had lots of tips and a couple of false alarms, but thus far they had remained as elusive as their printed counterpart. Except in the books you always found him eventually.

She glanced at her phone, thinking she'd felt it vibrate, but there was nothing. Not even an indication either of them were typing.

Clarke: Anyone?

She waited a few seconds and then:

Clarke: Bueller?

Crickets. She sighed. Lincoln had probably arrived, which meant Octavia wasn't paying attention to anything or anyone else for the rest of the night, and Raven... Raven was on the makeshift dance floor, sucking face with Wonder Woman.

Clarke shook her head with a rueful laugh. She was on her own. She turned to continue her search and stopped short when she found herself staring straight into her own reflection twice over in a set of round lenses. A quick flick of her eyes down, then up, and she blurted, "I found you!" at the same time Waldo cheered, "There you are!"

Long fingers clamped around her wrists like handcuffs, which should have freaked her out, probably, but Clarke found herself twisting her hands to try to grip Waldo's wrists in return, lest she (they? Clarke shouldn't assume) disappear into the crowd again.

"I've been looking all over for you," Clarke said, tugging Waldo closer.

"Me too," Waldo said, eyes bright behind her glasses. "Do you maybe want to get some air?"

Clarke's stomach did a little flip. Did she want to get some air? The girl looked harmless. (Would someone with sinister intentions dress like Where's Waldo?, giant pompom hat and all?) And there were plenty of people around, even outside (Clarke assumed, she hadn't made it that far yet, since no one had pointed her in that direction). And behind the glasses – hell, with the glasses, which Clarke itched to snatch off her face to peer through and see if they were real, although asking would be the politer option – she was cute. Really cute. "Sure," she said, then let the corner of her mouth curl up. "As long as you're not taking me to The Chief."

Waldo laughed. "Not unless you give me reason to," she said.

Clarke nodded and wiggled one hand free, but kept her grip on the other, and they wormed their way between clusters of people laughing and dancing and attempting to talk. When they finally pushed through the door, the temperature dropped by a solid ten degrees, and the decibel level by exponentially more.

"Thank god," Waldo gasped, shaking her head like that would stop the ringing.

"Yeah," Clarke agreed. She spotted a little bench off in one corner. It was shadowed, but not completely in the dark, and her feet needed a break. She tugged Waldo toward it, and Waldo followed without question or complaint. They sat down and Clarke couldn't help the groan that escaped as her leg muscles unknotted and her spine decompressed. She slipped her feet out of her heels completely, wiggling her toes in the dry grass. Beside her, Waldo tapped the toes of her red Converse together. "Shut up," Clarke said, even though Waldo hadn't said anything.

Waldo smirked and fished around in the bag she was carrying, coming out with a handful of candy bars and offering Clarke first pick.

Clarke considered, then went with the Mounds bar, realizing only after that if Waldo knew the old advertising jingle for Almond Joy versus Mounds ('Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't') she might read into Clarke's choice. Clarke glanced at her, at the way streetlight or moonlight hit her cheekbones and the angle of her jaw, limning their sharp lines in a way that made Clarke itch for her sketchbook, and decided she didn't care if Waldo did draw unintentional conclusions.

Hell, she hoped she would.

Lexa could feel Carmen's gaze on her, her eyes like spotlights picking her out and pinning her in place. She was surprised to discover she didn't mind it. She didn't hate being the center of attention, exactly, but only when it was on her own terms. Otherwise, she would rather blend in until she chose to stand out. Most of the time, the kind of intense focus Carmen currently had directed at her would have made her squirm on the inside. But she wasn't herself tonight. Not exactly.

And maybe, just maybe, she'd chosen this costume because some part of her, deep down in her subconscious, wanted to be found.

She met Carmen's gaze and held it. Maybe she'd wanted to be found, too.

Lexa realized, as she struggled to peel away the wrapper of a Snickers, that they were still holding hands. Her eyes flicked down to where their fingers tangled between them, and Carmen's followed. "Oops," Carmen said, and let her go. Which wasn't what Lexa had been signaling. It wasn't even what she'd wanted. But with both hands free, she could at least tear into the chocolate bar, taking a big bite to buy herself time to figure out what to say.

Carmen unwrapped her Mounds (Lexa preferred Almond Joy, despite the slogan) and popped it in her mouth, her eyes rolling back as she savored it. Which gave Lexa a minute to study her... and sent blood rushing to her cheeks when Carmen caught her lingering over everything the trench coat hinted at but kept hidden.

"I like your costume," Lexa mumbled.

"I like yours, too," Clarke said.

"Thanks," Lexa said. "I, uh—" She stuffed the other half of the Snickers in her mouth, chewed, swallowed. "I wasn't going to come, but I didn't want to just sit in my room all night, either. And my girlfriend - ex-girlfriend – always used to joke that this shirt made me look like Waldo, to the point where she got me the hat to go with it as a joke a couple of Christmases ago, and—" She shrugged, realizing she was probably oversharing. No one ever wanted to hear about a stranger's exes.

"And the glasses?" Carmen asked.

Lexa blinked, resisting the urge to reach up and touch them. "Are mine," she admitted. "Which didn't help the whole Waldo thing. I have another pair, but—"

"I like them," Carmen said. "They're cute."

At least that's what her mouth said. The way she scooted closer and leaned in a little even though it was quiet enough out here that you didn't have to be an inch from someone's ear to be heard made Lexa think she might actually be saying, 'You're cute.'



"Everyone thinks you're my girlfriend," Lexa said, the words spilling out before she could think about them. "The second I walked in people were like, 'Oh I just saw your girlfriend.'"

Carmen laughed. "You too? You have to admit, it's a pretty awesome costume for a couple."

"It is," Lexa agreed. "Too bad—" She stopped herself before she could say anything stupid.

"You know... there's a costume contest at this thing," Carmen told her. "With decent prizes."

Lexa's jaw dropped, feigning offense on Anya's behalf. "Only decent?" she asked. "I'll have you know, the person who picked out those prizes put a lot of time and effort into getting them."

"How much time and effort does it take to buy a bunch of gift cards?" Carmen asked.

Lexa swallowed a laugh. "There was a really long line, okay?"

Carmen's eyes widened. "Wait. Was it you? You said you weren't even going to come..."

Lexa shook her head. "I mean, I was the one who bought the gift cards, but I didn't help organize this or anything. I was just lending my friend Anya a hand. You've probably seen her around. She's dressed as Wonder Woman."

Carmen snorted. "Oh yeah, I saw her. Making out with my friend Raven."

"Sounds about right," Lexa said. "Hope that doesn't mean you're going to end up getting sexciled."

Another snort, and it was a really cute snort. If a snort could be cute. "Not by her. You?"

Lexa shook her head. "I have my own room."

"How'd you manage that?" Carmen sputtered. With the limited on-campus housing, it was almost impossible to get a room to yourself in the dorms unless you were a senior, which Carmen seemed to assume she wasn't.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Lexa asked, arching an eyebrow.

Carmen looked at her through narrowed eyes, peering up at her from beneath the brim of her hat. "Did you start out the year with your own room?" she asked.

Lexa shrugged and made a motion like she was zipping her lips.

Carmen smirked. "I guess if anyone would know how to hide a body..."

Lexa tried for scandalized but couldn't quite hold back the laugh that bubbled up. Carmen laughed too, and it was a good laugh. A laugh Lexa wanted to hear more of, but she didn't know what to say. She offered Carmen another candy bar just to give them both something to do.

"Anyway," Carmen said around a mouthful of chocolate. "We should enter. If it's not too late."

"Enter what?" Lexa asked, having lost the thread of the conversation somewhere in the depths of Carmen's eyes, and, uh, cleavage, which Carmen was fishing a flake of chocolate out of.

"The costume contest!" Carmen said, popping the retrieved crumb into her mouth.

"We're not a couple," Lexa protested, heat prickling along her spine and hairline, sweat pooling under her arms.

"So what?" Carmen asked. "They don't know that, and anyway, everyone thinks we are. Also, I don't think they're checking credentials. There won't be a quiz about how long we've been together or when we had our first date or our first kiss or anything. And if they do... I'm an accomplished liar, what with being an internationally infamous criminal and all." She waggled her eyebrows. "Come on! It'll be fun!"

Clarke stood up and slid her feet back into her heels, then offered Waldo a hand up. Waldo took it, looking uncertain, and Clarke wondered if maybe she should just let it go. But the first couple of months of her freshman year had been a complete slog; this was the first time she'd really let herself let loose and enjoy the college experience. She wasn't ready to give up on doing things she never thought she would do just yet.

They made their way to the table near the makeshift stage and put their names down in the couples' category. They were warned not to go far, because the show was going to start in about fifteen minutes. They'd only just barely made the cut-off.

"It's not going to be a problem that your friend helped organized this, is it?" she asked Waldo as an afterthought. "She's not one of the judges or anything?"

"I don't think so," Waldo said, not sounding entirely sure of herself. "I think it's based on audience reaction anyway." She gestured toward the Applause-O-Meter, which Clarke assumed was connected to some kind of device that measured how loud the audience response was.

"Then we're a shoo-in," Clarke said. "Everyone loves us." She grinned, and was happy to see Waldo looked a little less green around the gills when she smiled back. Clarke slipped her hand around Waldo's and shuffled a little closer. Which might have just been to avoid being poked in the eye by a truly spectacular pair of wings, but Clarke hoped it was because Waldo wanted to be closer to her.

They didn't try to talk much – it was too loud – but every once in a while Waldo would look over at her and smile and squeeze her hand, and Clarke would smile and squeeze back, and soon enough the music was lowered and Wonder Woman herself stepped onto the stage to emcee the costume contest. Clarke glanced toward the front of the stage and found Raven leaned against it, flushed and glassy-eyed and grinning. She slipped her phone out of her pocket and sent her a quick text.

Clarke: Get it, Reyes!

She saw Raven look up, searching the crowd, and Clarke wiggled her fingers in a wave. Raven smirked and three dots appeared on Clarke's screen.

Raven: Oh I'm gonna. You find your Waldo?

Clarke's gaze flicked to the side, where Waldo was standing mostly in shadow. She sent a quick reply:

Clarke: Wait and see.

The individual contestants went up first, and there was a seemingly endless stream of them. A lot of them were doing it just for their fifteen seconds of fame and hadn't put much (or any) time or effort into their costumes. Some were so lame the only thing the applause-o-meter registered was the audience's boos and jeering. But there were others who obviously took this seriously, and some of the costumes – including the fallen angel in his extendable wings, and Clarke wondered if Raven knew the engineering student who had to have designed them – were truly stunning.

Next up were the couples, and although most of them just paraded across the stage, a few put together little skits, and they pretty much always got more applause. Clarke looked at Waldo, then leaned in to whisper in her ear, quickly outlining a plan. Waldo chewed the inside of her cheek, but nodded her agreement.

When they were called up, Waldo wandered onto the stage first, pretending to be sightseeing with her binoculars. Clarke crept up behind her and reached around to tap her on the shoulder. Waldo looked toward the tap, but of course Clarke wasn't there. When Waldo looked toward her, Clarke ducked behind her and popped up on her other side, repeating the tap. The third time, she allowed Waldo to catch her... and planted a kiss smack on her lips before dashing offstage with Waldo's binoculars in hand, leaving Waldo staring at the audience, gobsmacked.

It wasn't feigned. Clarke hadn't mentioned the kiss when she'd outlined the plan; she'd wanted Waldo's reaction to be as organic as possible. And she'd seen the way Waldo looked at her, when Clarke was looking but also (especially) when she thought Clarke couldn't see. She'd seen the way she'd been distracted by Clarke's... assets. Even so, she probably should have warned her. No, she definitely should have, and now she owed Waldo an apology.

The crowd was hooting and hollering as Waldo tripped down the small set of steps, and Clarke reached out to steady her. "Sorry," she said. "I'm sorry. I should have asked. I should have gotten your consent. That was—"

Waldo's lips crashed against hers. "If you say anything other than 'hot' or 'fucking awesome', I'm not sharing the gift card with you," she said.

"Oh," Clarke said. "Um."

Waldo laughed and wrapped her arm around Clarke's waist. "I'll take that, too," she said.

They waited through the rest of the couples, and then the groups, and finally Wonder Woman – Anya, Waldo had said – stepped back on the stage to announce the winners. Clarke didn't even pretend to be surprised when their names – well, Carmen and Waldo – were called for the couples' prize. She just laced her fingers through Waldo's and pulled her back up on stage to accept it. She might have been wrong, but she was pretty sure Wonder Woman winked at them more than once.

They took a bow and stumbled off stage again, making a beeline for the exit but being stopped every few steps to be congratulated. By the time they made it out the door, Clarke was half-blind from camera flashes even though she very much doubted any of the pictures would come out.

"So what are you going to do with your half?" she asked Waldo, not sure how exactly they were going to split the $100 since it was all on one card.

"Take you on a date," Waldo said, her cheeks flooding with color, but she didn't back down or look away. "What about you?"

Clarke grinned. "Save it for our second date. Or third. Does this count as our first?"

Waldo raised an eyebrow. "Do you want it to?"

Clarke made a show of thinking about it just to watch Waldo's face twist from curiosity to mock-offense to amusement.

"Do I need to kiss you again?" she asked. "Would that help you decide?"

"Couldn't hurt," Clarke said.

Waldo kissed her. Waldo kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her, until Clarke wanted to shed her trench coat to cool off... and then maybe a few other things to get warm again. But they barely knew each other. Hell, she didn't even know Waldo's real name.

She peeled herself away, opening her mouth to ask, but before she got a chance Waldo held out her hand. "Can I see your phone?"

Clarke fished it out of her pocket and unlocked it before handing it over. She watched Waldo's long fingers dance across the screen, adding herself into Clarke's contacts before she passed it back. Clarke looked at it and smiled. Instead of her name, the girl had put her number in under Where's Waldo?

Clarke sent her a message.

Clarke: Is that how it is?

She watched the corner of Waldo's lips curl. She saved Clarke's number and showed it to her: Carmen Sandiego.

Waldo: Was this a date or not?

Clarke looked at her, her laughing green eyes and her jaw you could cut yourself on and the soft curve of her lips and... "Best date I've ever been on," she said.

Waldo smiled. "The next one will be better," she said. "If you're lucky, I might even tell you my name."

And then, with one last lingering kiss that stole the air from Clarke's lungs and every thought from her head, Waldo disappeared into a cluster of students walking by. Clarke thought she caught a glimpse of a red pompom bouncing jauntily along, but she wasn't sure.

She was sure, though, that she planned to find Waldo again very, very soon.