Chapter Text
“I want to be absolutely clear on this,” Clarke says. “You're telling me you're closing the daycare for the day, because somebody thought she saw a cockroach inside?”
Mrs. Green looks distressed and confused at how badly Clarke is taking this. “Pests are a serious problem, Ms. Griffin.”
“So is having nowhere to leave your fucking toddler!”
“Ms. Griffin!” Mrs. Green exclaims, scandalized. “ Language! ”
Clarke blushes. Right, daycare. Swearing is kind of frowned upon. She looks down at Aden, who is oblivious to the whole exchange, holding her hand and trying to shove his fist into his mouth.
She feels a headache coming on. She forces herself to take a deep breath. Murder is bad, Clarke reasons. Especially in front of your three year old.
“But are you sure you can't take him?” Clarke pleads. “Only for a few hours until I can arrange something?”
Mrs. Green shakes her head. “I'm sorry Ms. Griffin, you'll have to -” she pauses, looking for the right word, “endure him this morning.”
Endure him? Oh, this woman just bought all the tickets for the ass-kicking lottery. Endure him? Clarke could just - no.
Clarke takes another deep breath. She doesn't have time for this. She needs to find someone who can take Aden, drop him off and get into work in - she checks her cellphone, Jesus fuck, twenty minutes.
She bends down to pick up Aden and notices he’s having the time of his life, pulling at all the cords of Mrs. Green’s computer with all his might.
She wonders if she should feel guilty about the pride that swells her chest. Probably. She picks Aden up and he squeals, taking one cord with him.
“Thank you for all your help,” Clarke says, prying the cord from Aden’s fingers and not meaning one syllable.
“Oh,” Ms. Green replies, her eyes flickering to a now black screen and her lip curled in distaste. “It was no problem at all.”
*
Clarke adjusts Aden’s weight on her hip and presses her cell between her cheek and her shoulder as she tries to avoid running into any distracted pedestrians.
“Are you sure you can't watch him?” She asks into the receiver. “I really can't miss work again, they've already warned me. Twice.”
“I'm sorry Clarke,” Raven says, “you know I love that little fucker to hell and back, but I have to work.”
“Mom!” Aden tugs at her shirt. “Mom, green!”
Clarke kisses the top of his head as they cross the street.
“Why can't you work in one of those cool dotcom things that let you take your pets to work?”
Clarke rolls her eyes. “Aden is not a dog, Raven.”
“I don't know, he does have that one hoodie with the ears and he likes to bite things.”
Well, that’s just offensive. “He was teething.”
“No, Clarke,” Raven insists, “it's high time you accept that you spawned a little demon baby.”
Clarke hangs up on her.
“You're not a demon baby,” she coos.
She looks down at Aden, who's currently trying to reach a homeless man’s beard with his chubby hands.
“Aden, no!”
*
“But are you really, really sure, Bell?” Clarke pleads. “Aden says he misses you.”
Bellamy chuckles. “Low blow, princess,” he says, “but tell him I miss him, too.”
Clarke groans. Bellamy was her last hope. Raven is out, Monty as well, Wells can’t even distinguish a baby from a textbook at this point of the year and the only family that Clarke has left has barely spoken two words to her in four years.
“Dammit,” Clarke says.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Clarke,” Bellamy replies, “you work at the same building Octavia does. Really, how strict can they be?”
Clarke has seen one or two bawling ex-employees who could tell Bellamy exactly how strict Polis inc. is.
*
In the end, the choice falls between calling her mother or taking Aden to work.
Clarke’s finger hovers above her mother’s contact card for a full minute before she sighs and shoves her phone back into her purse. She picks Aden up from the bench and starts walking.
“Ready to see mom’s workplace, Aden?”
Aden giggles and claps his hands. At least one of them is happy.
*
Octavia looks way too scandalized for someone who used to do body shots at 3pm on a Wednesday.
“Clarke, no .”
Clarke uses her best puppy dog eyes. Aden, bless his tiny soul, sees his mom face and promptly imitates her. “Please, O? Just for a little while? Please?”
Octavia grimaces. “This is against company regulations!” She says. “How did you even get him past security?”
“Mom!” Aden exclaims. “Mom, look!”
Clarke pats him on the head absentmindedly. “That’s nice baby,” she says and then, to Octavia: “first of all, since when are you a stickler for regulations?”
Octavia crosses her arms and grumbles.
“Second,” Aden pulls the hem of her shirt, “not now baby - your boyfriend is a terrible security guard. One look at Aden’s face and his resolve crumbled in half a second.”
Octavia looks offended on Lincoln's behalf. “Fine! But you have to come get him as soon as you can. He can’t be here when Indra comes back from the meeting.”
“Thank you!” Clarke says, “Thank you, thank you!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Octavia replies. “Just hand me your son.”
She goes to grab Aden, who is currently amusing himself by shredding what Clarke can only hope are completely inconsequential documents that just happened to be in a manilla folder labeled “URGENT”.
Octavia groans.
*
By some unexpected miracle, Clarke manages to get in before Kane does.
She sighs and sags into the chair, feeling a thousand years old.
She’s fucking exhausted. Day in and day out of working this damn job, picking up Aden, making him dinner, getting him to bed and passing out from sheer exhaustion at 11.30 pm. It's enough to drive anyone mad.
She shakes her head. Focus, Clarke. She justs needs to get everything in order before Kane arrives. Then, if she’s lucky, she might manage to make a run for it during lunch to drop off Aden.
If she finds anyone to watch him.
Her headache isn’t getting any better.
*
Twenty minutes later, when she’s in the middle of going through emails and trying to fix the complete disaster that is Kane’s calendar, the phone rings.
“Marcus Kane’s Office,” she says, “Clarke speaking. How may I help you?”
“Hey,” Octavia answers, “where did you end up taking Aden?”
Clarke’s heart stops beating. “Aden?”
“Yeah,” Octavia replies, and then, noticing the way Clarke’s breath hitches: “he’s not with you.”
For a second, Clarke can’t move her mouth. She can’t even breathe.
Then, the adrenaline kicks in. “Where did you lose him? How long? Octavia! Fuck. Jesus. How could you lose him?”
“Clarke, breathe.” Octavia says, though she sounds almost as panicked as Clarke feels. “It was a minute ago, he’s gotta be here somewhere.”
Clarke doesn’t bother saying anything else. She hangs up and springs from her desk. She doesn’t even care than when she crosses Kane in the hallway he gives her a wide eyed look and opens his mouth to say something.
She’s going to fucking murder Octavia.
*
Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes and still no Aden. Clarke is almost at the point of a panic attack. Should she call the police? Where could have Aden gone to? He’s too little to go far. Oh, God, he’s so little and this place is full of scissors, outlets and elevators and other dangerous things. Anything could have happened to him. Fuck, she can’t breathe. She’s going to die here in this fucking elevator without having found her son.
She feels her phone vibrate in her hand and answers it before it has a chance to ring. She doesn’t look who it is, she doesn’t care.
“Tell me you’ve found him.”
“I've found him,” Octavia says and then, after a long pause: “He’s ok.”
Clarke sags against the elevator wall. “Oh, thank God.”
She runs a hand through her eyes and exhales, feeling her heart start beating again. She's actually trembling.
“Don't lose him!” She says, “where are you?”
“No I -” Octavia hesitates. “He's in good hands don't worry.”
“I’m on the top floor,” Octavia continues, “you, uh, you'll see me when the elevator opens.”
How Aden managed to climb three whole floors by himself, Clarke doesn't want to know. But it doesn’t matter.
She punches fifteen on the elevator.
*
True to her word, Octavia is waiting for her as soon as the door opens. Not true to her word: there’s no Aden with her.
“Octavia,” Clarke says, very carefully enunciating each word. “Where's my son?”
Octavia holds her hands up in surrender. “He’s fine, relax, he’s -” she hesitates. “he's playing with the person who found him.”
Clarke relaxes. “Aw, that's cute,” she says, “Where is he?”
Octavia grimaces, which Clarke finds both weird and kind of unsettling, and points to the huge tinted glass doors behind her.
Clarke breathes deeply. All is good. Aden is safe, Kane has not called to fire her (yet), all is good. She lets relief wash over her and smiles.
That is, until she opens the doors and sees what's inside the office.
It's Aden, his chubby legs swaying from side to side, sitting on a gigantic desk. He's babbling nonstop with a smile on his face and is trying to braid the hair of the person sitting on the desk.
Which happens to be none other than the boss of the boss of her boss.
Billionaire and CEO extraordinaire Alexandria Woods.
She’s fucking screwed.
*
She knocks on the open door tentatively.
Both Ms. Woods and Aden look up at the same time. Oh wow, her eyes are really green.
Aden's face breaks out in a grin. "Mommy!"
He turns to Ms. Woods, squirming in excitement. "Mommy is here!"
Ms. Woods looks down to him and smiles gently. Clarke’s breath catches in her throat.
"So she is," she says and then turns to Clarke. She gives her a look so cold that Clarke wants the floor to swallow her.
"So you’re the one that brought her son to the office against regulations,” the woman drawls, “and then lost him.”
Clarke refuses to cower, though it’s not easy. "Yeah, that’s me," she tries a smile. "Thank you for finding him Ms. Woods."
"Lexa." Ms. Woods corrects, sounding mildly exasperated.
Clarke tries another smile. "Then thank you, Lexa."
Lexa doesn't answer.
Aden chooses that moment to push a stack of perfectly organized papers to the floor. When they scatter across the office, he giggles and Clarke stops breathing.
Oh, fucking hell. She's so fired.
Ms. Woods, Lexa , just mock frowns at him. “That was not very nice, Aden.”
Clarke almost wants to pinch herself to see if it’s real, but Aden actually looks contrite . “Sorry,” he mumbles.
Clarke clears her throat awkwardly. “So maybe I should...take him?”
When Lexa looks back up at her, Clarke realises exactly why they call her the Commander. The way she looks at Clarke sends a shiver down her spine.
“Maybe you should.”
Clarke tries to approach the desk with some semblance of dignity. Aden stretches his arms out to her immediately, smiling wide.
She settles him against her hip and kisses the top of his blond head.
“You should take the rest of the day off,” Lexa adds, already focused back on her laptop.
Clarke wonders if this is Lexa’s subtle way of telling her that she’s fired but she doesn't intend to find out. She definitely does not need to add ‘bursting into tears in front of her kid’ to this Godforsaken day.
“OK,” she says instead. “Thank you, Ms. - Lexa.”
Lexa nods without looking away from the computer. Honestly, what a bitch.
Clarke turns to leave and Aden squirms in her arms to look back at Lexa.
“Bye Lexa!” he shouts.
That does make Lexa look up from her screen. She gives him a tiny, tight lipped smile.
“Goodbye, Aden,” she says. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
Aden giggles. “Pleasure,” he repeats, amused by the word.
Lexa turns her attention back to Clarke, raising an eyebrow at her.
“So,” Clarke says, “Thank you again, Lexa.”
She cringes internally. How many times can one say the same thing before your boss thinks you’re not quite right in the head?
This time, though, Lexa deigns to look at her in the eye. Her eyes are really, really green.
“You're welcome,” she says. “Close the door on your way out.”
Clarke knows a dismissal when she hears one.
*
As soon as she's out of Lexa’s office and into the elevator, the panic sets back in.
She's going to get fired. Lexa is going to fire her and blacklist her from working in this city. Lexa can do things like that, can’t she?
Oh, God what is she going to do? She can't afford to lose this job. She’s barely making ends meet as it is. She’s barely able to provide for her child, keep a roof over his head and clean socks on his feet and now she’s going to get fired. Because the daycare were assholes and she had nowhere to leave her kid.
“Mommy! Mom” Aden tugs at her hand.
She blinks. The elevators doors are open, right. She walks out in a daze, half guided by Aden’s hand.
Right into Marcus Kane.
He smiles. “So this is the famous Aden I’ve been hearing so much about.”
Clarke forces herself not to let her eyes water. “I'm so sorry Mr. Kane, the daycare was closed and I don't have anyone to take care of him and -”
Kane stops her with a hand on her shoulder. “It's fine Clarke,” he says. “I've spoken to Lexa. She said you’ll take the rest of the day off?”
Lexa, herself , called Kane just to let him know Clarke is talking the day off. Just how fast does this woman want to get rid of her?
Clarke nods. “Yes, I - is that OK?”
Kane smiles again and waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll manage just fine.”
He doesn't add ‘without you’ . Clarke still hears it.
*
Clarke wakes up the next day, blinks and immediately feels cold dread wash over her.
She didn't get a call yesterday. She wonders if Lexa is waiting for her to arrive to work to fire her in front of everybody to make an example out of her.
Because Lexa might have smiled kindly at Aden and let him mess up her desk but Ms. Woods? Ms. Woods is The Commander. She’s ruthless, determined and hated as much as she is admired. She’s the youngest CEO of Polis inc., responsible of the most aggressive and effective merger strategy probably ever. She’s a visionary, featured twice in the cover of the Times magazine.
Clarke might have stayed up a bit late reading her Wikipedia page. Among others. Maybe.
The alarm rings again.
She groans. Whatever will happen, will happen. It's time to face the music.
*
She wakes up Aden who, as always, goes from zero to a hundred in about five seconds flat.
"Mom, mom," he says around his sippy cup, "are you taking me to play with Lexa today?"
Clarke smiles. "Slow down baby," she takes the cup from his hands. "No, not today. You're playing with Mrs. Green and your friends today."
Aden pouts. "Mrs. Green smells . Lexa is pretty."
That she is, Clarke thinks. She might be a heartless monster that's gonna leave her and her kid on the street but she sure as hell is pretty.
"I know baby," Clarke says. "Maybe some other day?"
Aden sighs dramatically.
Clarke rolls her eyes. This has been Aden ever since leaving that office. He couldn't have been with Lexa more than twenty minutes but ever since it has been nothing but "Mom, Lexa's hair was so pretty", "Mom, she had braids like Becky.", "Mom, can I go to play in Lexa’s office tomorrow?", "Mom, mom, can Lexa come play?" and on and on and on.
It would be more adorable if the mention of Lexa’s name didn’t send Clarke into a ‘Oh my God, I’m going to be homeless’ mini panic attack each time.
“But I want to go today.”
Aden continues to pout all the way to the daycare.
It's a great start to her morning, that’s for sure.
*
This time, the daycare graciously allows Clarke to drop Aden off. If she ever manages to get a decent job, the first thing that will go is Mrs. Green, her stupid daycare and her stupid raised eyebrows at the bags under Clarke’s eyes.
“Long night?” Mrs. Green asks.
Honestly, Clarke is this close to decking her.
*
Clarke crosses the doorway of the building and exhales.
Lexa has not, apparently, hired a hitman to take her out as soon as she approaches the building.
That’s one thing she can cross of her list, at least.
She looks down to her cellphone to check the time and smiles at Aden’s picture. 8:45 am.
This is probably the earliest she’s ever arrived to work and it’s the day she’s getting fired. There’s probably some irony in there somewhere, but Clarke can’t seem to find the humor when she’s about to get canned.
She swipes the card at the Security Barrier and when it turns green she breathes a sigh of relief again. Ok, she’s in. Maybe they’ll let her stay to the end of the week. God, please, at least until payday.
By the time she reaches her office, she’s practically tiptoeing. She’s half convinced a security guard is going to jump from behind a wall any second and drag her kicking and screaming back onto the street.
As soon as she sits on her desk, the phone rings. Clarke takes a deep breath and reaches for her assistant voice.
“Marcus Kane’s office,” she forces herself to sound sweet, peppy and appropriately dead inside. “This is Clarke speaking.”
“Hi Clarke, it's Tris.”
Clarke’s blood runs cold. Tris. Lexa’s assistant Tris.
“Hi Tris,” she manages to get out. “What's up?”
She hears the faint sound of typing. “Not much. Lexa would like to see you in her office.”
Clarke knew it. She knew it. It’s not enough to fire her. Lexa will do it herself. Jesus, Clarke’s going to have to grovel to her.
“Do you know what it’s about?” she asks, hating the way she can’t keep her voice from catching.
She really can’t afford to lose this job.
“Yes, Clarke,” Tris deadpans. “Ms. Woods tells me all about her plans and decisions. She didn't just say ‘Tell Ms. Griffin to come to my office’ and shut the door on my face.”
Tris’ sarcasm really doesn’t help her mood much. “Fine,” she says, “I get it. I'll be right up.”
“Yes,” Tris answers, “I wouldn’t advise you to keep her waiting.”
Clarke plays solitaire for five solid minutes out of pure spite.
*
Finally, she has no other choice but to answer Lexa’s summons. She lets Kane know where she’s going, fires a quick almost-coherent text to Octavia and puts her phone on silent.
As soon as she hops into the elevator, her mind starts going a million miles a minute.
It’s not fair. If Lexa wanted to fire her, she could just have Human Resources do it, there’s no need to call Clarke into her office and do it herself just to see her squirm.
What kind of heartless fuck does something like that, anyway? Clarke has a kid . She’s a single mom. Aden was in the office for barely an hour. Clarke understands that’s company policy but it’s not fair . What is she going to do?
God.
By the time she arrives at the shiny top floor office she’s fuming, wound so tight that when Lexa finally fires her, she’s either going to fly completely off the handle or bawl her eyes out.
Tris smiles her assistant smile up at her. “Hi Clarke! Lexa will see you now.”
Clarke tries to come up with words, but all she does is nod dumbly.
She knocks on Lexa’s door.
“Come in.”
Clarke opens the door and takes a tentative step inside. Lexa doesn’t look up from whatever she’s doing on her computer. She reaches deep down for whatever calm is left and tries to make her voice sound as relaxed as she can, instead of wringing the CEO’s neck.
“Lexa?” She says. “Tris told me you wanted to see me?”
Lexa looks up and blinks at her, as if she doesn’t understand what Clarke is doing here. “Sorry,” she says, “please, come in.”
Clarke is momentarily stunned by the fact that Lexa is talking to her like an actual human being and using the words sorry and please .
She takes a seat in front on Lexa’s desk and crosses her hands over her lap. Lexa is looking around her desk, shuffling papers from one side to another, evidently looking for something. Clarke wants to shake her. Just fucking get on with it, Clarke can’t handle the anticipation.
Finally, Lexa finds what she’s looking for.
"Here," she says, and handles Clarke ...a drawing.
A terrible drawing, evidently made by a toddler.
Clarke’s toddler, if she’s not mistaken.
What ?
Clarke looks up.
“Your son drew this that yesterday,” Lexa explains, “and informed me on no uncertain terms that it was to be a present for you.”
Clarke looks from her drawing at Lexa and back again. Lexa called her in here, almost gave her a heart attack, to give her a fucking drawing ?
“I think it’s supposed to be you.”
Lexa looks at Clarke expectantly. Right, she has to answer. That’s how communication works.
“Thank you?” she says because, honestly. What the hell is happening?
She notices another drawing in between Lexa’s papers.
"Is that another one?"
Lexa smoothes one of the corners of the paper carefully. "Yes. I think it’s a dog." She explains, "at least that’s what Aden’s informed me."
Clarke forces a smile. “Thank you for this, Lexa.” she says, “and for taking care of him.”
Lexa nods.
Clarke supposes that’s it, so she gets up and walks to the door. She turns around to offer a pleasantry and go back to work and sees Lexa’s looking at Aden’s drawing, the tiniest smile tugging at her lips. She stashes it between other papers, very carefully, as if she was dealing with something delicate.
Oh, no.
A new kind of panic sets into Clarke’s chest. She’s not going that road. She’s not.
For the record, Clarke knows this is probably the worst idea she’s had in a while before she even opens her mouth. There’s something in the image of Lexa, though, the mighty CEO of Polis inc., the Commander, billionaire and all around terror of the financial world smiling at her kid’s drawing like it’s some sort of precious object makes her heart flutter inside her chest.
And her brain short circuit, evidently.
“Would you like to come to dinner?” She blurts, the words so fast they almost stick together.
Lexa looks up, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at her. “Excuse me?”
Clarke feels her face heat up all the way to the tips of her ears. Fuck. Jesus. What the fuck is she doing?
But the words just keep coming. “As a thank you,” she explains, “for Aden. I - he hasn’t shut up about you. I think he’d like to see you.”
Oh God what is she doing?
“Not like a thing,” Clarke continues, “or anything. Not that you thought it would be. Unless it's inappropriate. Which it wouldn't be. Since it’s not a thing.”
Clarke wants to die. She used to be way more smooth than this. This is what four years without a date will do to a woman.
Lexa, herself, looks distinctly amused. Her eyes are shining. This is bad.
Before Clarke can dig herself further into the ground, Lexa speaks.
“Ok,” Lexa says.
Wait.
What ?
“OK?”
“OK,” Lexa repeats, “Dinner. I’d like to.”
Clarke honestly doesn’t know what kind of bizarro world she’s stepped into. “I’ll just -uh...” she hesitates. Memo you the address? Send you an Email? Ask Times magazine for your number?
Lexa smiles tentatively, almost shyly, and takes a business card from her wallet.
She hands the card to Clarke. It's glossy, fancy and Lexa’s name shines just right when it catches the light and Clarke wonders how stupid, exactly, it is to be attracted to a person's business card.
Probably a lot.
*
[received 9:15am]
O.: CLARKE YOU CAN’T SEND ME A TEXT THAT SAYS ‘im getting fired’ AND NOT REPLY?
[received 9:15am]
O.: WHERE ARE YOU?
[received 9:30]
O: CLARKE FFS
[sent 9:42am]
To: O.
i didn't get fired
[sent 9:43am]
To: O.
i might have invited lexa for dinner
[received 9:56]
O.: ….
[received 9:56]
O.: lexa
[sent 9:56]
To: O.
lexa
[received 9:57]
O.: i sincerely hope this is some other chick that just happens to be called lexa and that you DIDN'T ASK OUR FUCKING CEO ON A DATE
[received 9:57]
O.: clarke when i said you needed to get out more i swear I DIDN’T MEAN THIS
[sent 9:58]
To: O.
It’s not date. aden wants to see her. it’s to say thank you. nothing inappropriate.
Octavia doesn’t reply. Honestly, Clarke doesn’t really blame her.
She’s so screwed.