Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I've Had Better Days.

January 1st 2018.

"Lexa, it's New Year's day." Clarke grumbled, her voice somewhat muffled by her pillow. "Nobody works on New Year's day!"

She knew her statement wasn't completely true. While most people would be nursing a killer hangover. Some dedicated people, such as Lexa would still have work to attend too. After all, Lexa was a major player in the hospitality industry: with two successful restaurants under her belt and a once humble hotel, that the determined brunette built up from nothing, until it had become one of the most popular and affordable lodging in the whole Polis area.

The holiday season was an extremely busy and lucrative time, for both businesses. And Clarke knew she was being unfair putting Lexa on a guilt trip. Only a few hours ago they had seen in the New Year together. Both deciding that a low-key gathering with close friends was the best plan of action. The crepe paper streamers and party decorations were still littered all around the front parlour (as well as Anya). But not long into the festivities, and Lexa had been on her phone answering an emergency work call.

"I know, Clarke. But Indra was insistent that we meet tomorrow," Lexa sighed. "You know she's practically been running things single-handedly, since my short leave of absence to be with Emma. And what with Anya taking her much needed vacation - I need to be back at the helm, where I belong." Her tired face, now wearing an even wearier expression. It had only been 2018 for only a few hours and Clarke certainly didn't want to kick start the New Year with a pointless argument.

Lexa had to return back to work. Simple as that.

"Indra would have had you working on Christmas Day if she could have." Clarke softened her tone, leaning over Lexa's side of the bed to scratch her shorts nails playfully along Lexa's toned stomach.

"Mmm, that she would," Lexa agreed with a smirk, relaxing into her wife's touch. "If you're concerned that with me back at work - you won't have any free time to work on your painting commission, then don't. Anya is literally still passed out on our sofa, and you know Emma loves spending time with her Aunty Ya-Ya."

"I suppose," Clarke pouted. "But it isn't just the painting. I guess I have just gotten use to you being here around the house."

And she had. With Lexa being home, the mogul hadn't been unintentionally showing up late for dinner, or answering any quick e-mails while they were meant to be watching a movie together. Clarke knew these things couldn't be helped. She herself understood owning and running a business was a 24/7 kind of commitment. Just like parenting.

Clarke was thankful that Lexa had decided to loosen the reins a little and hand more responsibilities over to Anya and Indra. No one could deny that Indra's dedication to 'Woods Industries' had been invaluable these last few weeks. Her loyalty to Lexa was unquestionable.

"I made you and Emma both a promise, that I would be spending more time with my two favourite girls and I intend to honor that promise," Lexa gave a firm nod, hoping her words were enough to reassure Clarke's lingering doubts. The brunette would freely admit, she was something of a workaholic.

"Yeah?" Clarke's pouting bottom lip, only seem to jut out further. "I'm still going to miss you."

"Mmm, baby," Lexa grinned, eyeing her wife with hungered appreciation. "Let me kiss those pouts away." She positioned her body over Clarke's soft form. Her wife letting out the gentlest moan as their tongues collided.

"Lex," Clarke whimpered, her nails raking S-shaped patterns along the lean slope of Lexa's muscular back.

The blonde could count the precise days and possibly the hours, since she and Lexa had found the time to be intimate. Especially with a small child in the household - they both had been too exhausted. The bed only being used primarily for sleep and a quick place to change any stinky diapers.

The artist planned to enjoy every single second of this moment.

Clarke's gray coloured night shirt was quickly deposited on the bedroom floor, and the heavy panting sounds of shared breaths filled the quiet space of their bedroom.

"Lex. Lex, please." Clarke husked, her hips rolling with more purpose.

Then the bubble around them burst. Emma's loud cries blasted over the baby monitor, causing Lexa's kisses against her wife's neck to come to an abrupt halt.

"Are you serious right now?" Clarke huffed, dragging her hand with mild force across her face. Willing her heart to stop it's loud thumping against her ribcage. Choosing instead to focus on her wife's owlish blinking. The haze of lust slowly ebbing away until dilated pupils returned to forest green.

"I'll go," Lexa let out a sigh of her own. Pecking Clarke's lips before she rolled to the side. "You OK?"

"Yeah. Peachy." Clarke's sarcastic quip was only not fair, but uncalled for, though she was wound up too tight to feel guilty about it.

"That stubborn tooth might be causing her pain again." Lexa said almost to herself, wrapping her robe around her slender frame. (many sleepless nights lately had been because of that one single tooth.)

Once Lexa had padded softly to the door - calling out once to Emma to let their adopted daughter know she'd be there in a second, Clarke spoke her wife's name. "Lex. I..?"

"It's alright, Clarke." She uttered with so much understanding that Clarke found herself clenching around nothing. God, she loved her wife.

"What time do you have to meet Indra?"

"Seven a.m."

She gave a nod, and flashed Lexa a small smile. "How about I cook your favourite dinner tonight?"

"Yeah. That sounds nice."

"Good. I love you."

"Love you too."

With her tee back on and a splash of cold water against her face, Clarke settled back under the bed covers. Reaching for the monitor, she couldn't help but smile at the grainy image. Emma's sobs had turned to sniffles, followed by a loud giggle now that she was with her Mama.

The no-nonsense mogul was making Emma's favourite snowman plushie dance, and the blonde found herself laughing along with her daughter.

This was married life, with all its inconveniences and Clarke wouldn't change it for the world.

*

Clarke awoke with a start.

Her eyes only blinking once, before her hand reached out to touch Lexa's empty side of the bed. Her bodyclock seemed set on autopilot to wake before Lexa would have to leave for work. And a glance to the bedside clock informed her that it was still early. 5 a.m in fact. So, hopefully they could still have breakfast together.

After a quick look for her in the study, she found Lexa exactly where she thought she might be. In their gym, currently running at a steady pace on the treadmill, with Emma playing safely in her portable playpen. Lifting 'Octoplush ' the blue sea creature she was given for Christmas in the air with a whooshing sound.

"That's it, Em. Let's count how many times you can lift Octo in the air. Ready?" Lexa barely sounded out of breath. "One. Can you say one, Emma?"

"Wo. Owne." Emma chirped with a beaming grin.

"Very good, baby." Clarke's voice gained the attention of both Emma and Lexa.

"Mo-Mo." Emma got to her feet, toy forgotten as she reached her arms out for her Mommy.

With a kiss on her cheek and a ruffle of soft blonde hair, Emma sat against Clarke's hip. Babbling happily about nothing in particular.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" Lexa asked, hopping off the bulky machine - reaching for the cotton soft towel to dab at her sweaty forehead.

"No babe," Clarke couldn't resist leaning forward, stealing a kiss from her wife's plump lips. "I just wanted to make sure you ate something more than a Granola bar for breakfast." The smirk Lexa gave her in return told Clarke her assumption had been correct - Granola for breakfast.

"What would I do without you?"

"Oh, I don't know? Buy shares in a snack bar company?"

"Well..." Lexa paused for a second, until Clarke stopped any sudden business idea's from forming - with a hand across her mouth. The action causing Emma to throw her head back with such jubilant laughter.

-

Breakfast was without incident. To which Clarke was more than relieved.

Emma ate every spoonful of her organic rice cereal that Lexa fed her, and with a smile no-less. Since the one-year old had first started teething, the poor little angel had been struggling to adjust to more solid foods. Today, however the teddy bear bowl hadn't ended up on the floor.

Not even the loud snoring coming from Anya's unconscious form on the sofa could direct Emma's attention away from Mama.

"What time will you be home?"

"Hopefully around five," Lexa said, taking a sip of her coffee, before she picked up her briefcase. The goodbyes were going to be a challenge for all of them. "Mama has to go to work now, sweetie. But I'll be home soon, OK?" She kissed the top of Emma's head, her voice laced with strained emotion. This was the first time she would be away from her daughter.

"Uu. Uu." Emma reached out her chubby fists to Lexa. Her legs kicking out impatiently against the foot rest of the high chair when Lexa took a small step back.

"She'll be fine, babe." Clarke reassured, swallowing down the lump in her own throat. The look of anguish on her wife's face at having to leave their child, made Clarke's heart feel like shattering. "This is just another routine she'll get use to," she cupped Lexa's cheek softly.

"You're right. I know you are," Lexa sighed, with a bow of her head. "I knew the first time leaving her would be heart-wrenching, and I know it's only for a few hours and I'm probably being stupid, but I hate the thought of her being upset." She rambled, until Clarke quieten her with a kiss, resting her forehead against Lexa's with a small smile.

"You're not being stupid. Adorable is the word I'd use, but Lex. Every parent and child has moments of separation anxiety. Remember what it said in all those parenting books you read. It's a perfectly normal part of childhood development. And with routine, she'll be fine."

"And there's always face-time." Lexa exhaled a deep breath, before pulling away.

"She'll love that," Clarke fixed her watery smile in place, her own emotions bubbling to the surface. "We'll walk you to the car."

Emma squirmed the whole time in Clarke's hold. Her little voice demanding her Mama. Her grip iron tight as she latched onto Lexa's neck, refusing to let go, when the brunette had leaned in to kiss her cheek goodbye.

"No, baby. Let Mama go." Clarke held onto her firmly, as she pried her chubby arms loose.

"See you tonight, Clarke. Love you, Emma," Lexa said, quickly getting into her car, a single tear rolling down her cheek as she did so. "Bye-bye."

The two blonde's watched the convertible back down the driveway. Emma silent before she pointed to the car disappearing from view.

" 'ere Ma-Ma go?"

"Mama had to go to work, baby," Clarke kissed her cheek. "She'll be back soon."

Emma's big blue eyes blinked in confusion before the tell-tale signs of tears began. The shrill high-pitched scream followed, cutting through Clarke's ears, as well as her heart.

The only silver lining was at least Emma's tears had started after Lexa had already left.

Chapter Text

I've Had Better Days.

6:35 a.m.

Ten minutes had passed, and Emma's tears had not stopped.

In fact, she seemed to get louder once they were back inside the house.

"Shush-shush," Clarke soothed, holding Emma's shivering form closer to her. "Baby, please don't cry."

"Ma.Ma!" Emma sobbed.

Clarke knew this wasn't the time to panic, but she couldn't help the stab of fear that lanced through her. Emma hadn't cried this much since the first day she arrived. The social worker had assured that the new surroundings and unfamiliar smells were confusing to the little one, and with time she would settle.

Lexa was a natural with Emma. The second the distressed infant was placed in Lexa's loving arms - the crying ceased. The tears vanishing, with Lexa's calm and patient presence.

Clarke herself was a little more gun-shy. Fearful of making mistakes or getting it wrong. But she'd discovered quickly that being a parent was a learning curve, and no handbook could ever truly prepare you for the amount of love you would feel for your child. Now with Emma's small body racked with sobs, the mother felt helpless. She certainly didn't want to worry Lexa so quickly, but she could handle this.

Fear would not control her.

"Shall we get your building blocks out and play?" Clarke asked softly, her hand rubbing in calming circles against Emma's back.

The bawling gentled for a moment, wide blue teary eyes locked with her Mommy's until movement from the sofa sent her yowling again.

With the sound of Emma's loud crying wail, Anya inevitably grumbled back to life. "Urrr," she moaned dragging her body in the direction of the kitchen. Completely ignoring mother and child as she pulled open the refrigerator door. Drinking the bottle of cool blue Gatorade in almost one gulp.

"Good morning to you too, Anya." Clarke's voice dripped with playful sarcasm over the sound of Emma's cries.

"What's good about it?" Anya shrugged, making her way over to the table - picking through what was left of the small breakfast fruit bowl. "Where's Lex?" She asked popping a cherry into her mouth.

"Gone to work."

Anya nodded, covering a yawn. "Indra finally got her way then?" She smirked, reaching out her arms for her Niece. "I bet Lexa cried more than this one when she left."

Emma didn't make too much fuss being passed over to Anya; the worry lines on Clarke's forehead easing slightly, when Emma seem to settle.

"You know I have a hangover, right?" Anya spoke to Emma as if she could fully understand her. "That means, these streaming tears of yours have to stop." The tall-modelesque woman wiped away the tots teardrops with her fingertip.

"Wan' Ma-Ma." Emma hiccuped, grabbing a gentle hold of Anya's ash-blonde locks.

"And I want a bacon-sub right now, but we can't always have what we want, unless your Mommy over here is feeling generous?"

The waggle of Anya's eyebrows brought a small smile to Clarke's face, and she didn't mind fixing some more breakfast.

"Fine. Would you like a coffee too?"

Anya watched Clarke move around the spotless kitchen - the only blemish being the used plates, while she made herself comfortable at the table - Emma sat safely in her lap. "Yes and some Advil would be good," she used her free hand to massage her temples. "Remind me to tell Raven - no, the next time she talks me into just 'one more glass ' of champagne."

"You did fold rather quickly after the fourth glass," Clarke smirked, handing her a box of Advil - casting a glance to Emma snuggling up to her Aunt, as she did so. "I think Harper may have taken photos."

"I hope Harper enjoys being fired."

The flash of a twinkle in her eyes, told Clarke she was kidding (mostly). Harper was something of a marvel in the kitchen. Her talents quickly earning her the position of Sous-Chef at Lexa's restaurant. Under the guidance of Head Chef Luna - Harper had blossomed. Her dedication, to her job had given Harper not only Lexa's respect, but her friendship.

"Which bar did Rae drag them to in the end?" Anya continued, taking a sip of the strong coffee - the blonde had now placed in front of her.

"After leaving here, Lincoln and Octavia decided to continue on with their own private celebration. While Rae, Monty and Harper went to that sports bar."

"Ahh, drunken foosball," she said, swallowing down the two gel caplets. "I'm guessing that Lex wants me on babysitting duty, since she didn't wake me this morning?" Anya assessed correctly. The smell of the bacon making her hollow stomach grumble with delight.

"Yeah, if you don't mind," Clarke spoke over her shoulder at the stove. "I've got one more drawing to add to the charcoal collection, plus I'm waiting for an important work call."

Important call  was putting it rather lightly. The artist had been a bundle of excited nerves when she had been contacted by an art dealer on behalf of a private collector. The commission in question was for five large original pieces. The client - she had been informed was Ms. Phryne Desmarais. Clarke had held in a gasp at the name. This woman was something of a power-house in the art world. Not only an art lover, but a serious collector. A commission on this scale would not only set her, but her art gallery above the rest of the pack with such an influential figure as Desmarais on her client list.

Anya hummed once, peppering soft kisses on top of Emma's blonde hair. "I love spending time with this one, don't I?" She tickled at slender ribs only getting a tiny burst of giggles in return. Emma must really be missing her Mama. "So, is this the work call that Lex was gushing about?"

"Yep," Clarke smiled at the memory of her wife's beaming grin. "The big ticket commission from Desmarais. They say she has a 'real nose' for sniffing out new talent, and the fact that I'm even on her radar - let alone that she could want five of my original pieces is mind blowing."

Clarke only hoped the conversation with the collector would go well.

*

9:15 a.m.

Clarke had finally been able to breathe a sigh of relief for the first time since Lexa had gone to work. Emma had calmed enough for Clarke to add the finishing touches to her charcoal piece. After a little cajoling from her Aunt - Emma decided she would cooperate and play with her toys.

Which was not an easy task, as Emma's new favourite word of the day appeared to be: No.

The toddler had a permanent pout waddling along on her learning walker.

"How about we watch some TV, Em?" Anya said with a hopeful smile, because her adorable Niece wasn't helping her splitting headache with each hit of the purple xylophone that was housed in the front of her baby walker.

"No." Emma shook her head, sitting herself down on her colourful playmat. Her hand reaching out for another toy.

The toy, much to Anya's dismay was something much louder than a xylophone. It was a baby drum kit. Who was the bozo, Anya wondered - that decided it would be a good idea to make a drum into a kids toy. She figured it was yet another one of life's mysteries that would never be explained.

The Television however; now that was a wondrous invention.

"I think your Mama would rip me a new one if we watched anything political," she said, switching on the flatscreen. "So, pointless crap it is."

"No," Emma repeated, bringing the drum stick down with force. The bang loud enough to jolt right through her hungover Aunt's head. "No. Ya-Ya." Her tone wasn't overly obstinate, but said with all the gusto of a bad tempered toddler. Anya could picture a few years from now - a teenage rebellious Emma giving Lexa a headache with all of her young escapades.

And she could say with 100% certainty that Lexa wouldn't have it any other way.

"No ?" Anya couldn't help but chuckle at her sass. "Well isn't that too bad, because we're going to watch TV anyway," she said, pushing the pink plastic nuisance of a toy aside. "Keep trying though kid, and maybe one day your attitude might rival my own. Until then, TV it is."

Scooping her grumpy Niece into her arms, Anya placed Emma onto the sofa next to her. The tiny blonde folding her chubby arms across her chest, her pout almost comedic. "Clarke's already teaching you the famous Griffin pout, I see," Anya smirked, settling back into the ridiculously comfy sofa cushions.

"Yep. Lex definitely has a rebel on her hands."

*

11:45 a.m.

To say Anya was relieved when Clarke told her she could take it from here, was an understatement. Anya loved Emma, absolutely loved spending time with her. The ash-blonde wore her number one Aunt crown with pride, but sitting around all day - wasting hours with aimless channel flipping; she was going stir crazy. She was never one for being idle, and by the looks of her Niece - neither was she.

"I really do appreciate this," Clarke's smile is warm, her cheek pressed against the top of Emma's blonde hair. While the tot watches with curiosity as her Aunt tries to put on her jacket while simultaneously texting at the same time.

"It's fine," Anya replied, not looking up from her phone.

"I take it that Raven is finally awake?"

"Yeah. She's even managed to persuade Luna to give her a free breakfast."

Clarke narrowed her eyes at her sister-in-law. "Does Lex know that Rae is getting more free food from the restaurant?"

Clarke is no miser, and is a strong believer of putting my people - as she affectionately calls their friend group, first, but if Raven had an actual tab at 'Woods' the check would most likely run into the thousands. And Clarke isn't the type of person who would let Lexa's generosity be taken advantage of, even if it is her best friend.

"She knows. Luna texted her, and besides Rae has agreed to fix your porch light."

Fair exchange, the blonde thought - since the darn thing keeps flickering. "OK. Let's say bye-bye to Auntie Anya, Emma," Clarke bounced her daughter slightly on her hip, taking her hand to wave goodbye. She hoped with all her might that there wouldn't be tears this time.

"See you soon, trouble." Anya smirked, getting into the Uber - rolling down the window to give her an extra wave.

"Bu. Bu, Ya-Ya." Emma babbled, resting her head on Mommy's shoulder.

*

1:10 p.m.

Clarke is more of a doer. A person of action - much like her wife. Get the job done, because what is the point of whining about something that probably can't be changed.

So, no. Clarke wouldn't usually find herself complaining, but over the last month the amount of dirty laundry had doubled and it seemed that the laundry basket was somehow always attached to her hip.

Life was full of the same ritualistic mundane tasks. Such as: cleaning your teeth - clearing out the old coffee filters... etc etc. The list could really go on.

But what had Clarke annoyed was the fact that half the clothes she washed weren't even from the occupants of her house.

The offending garments belonged to her pack of delinquents.

'Clarke. Harper can't get that wine stain out of my favourite white shirt. Can you help?' Monty had begged, with his best pleading eyes, and of course Clarke couldn't refuse the plea of one of her people.

It had snowballed since then.

That's how she found herself, giving a red tank top a shake before transfering it over to the dryer. Then it hit her, neither she or Lexa owned a red tank. Raven! How the engineer always managed to drop her clothes off here - undetected was a mystery.

"Does your Auntie Rae think I'm her personal laundry service?" Clarke spoke to Emma - who was currently climbing into the empty basket.

"Half of these aren't even ours!" Clarke huffed, setting another load of clothes into the washing drum - only to frown a moment later.

The washing machine remained dormant, while the blonde continued to press the start button. "Come on! Don't you dare break down today!"

Nothing changed.

"Come on!" The blonde scolded the appliance. "Work!"

As if it had heard the warning the washing machine rumbled back to life. Though Clarke's joy was short lived when the display pannel began reading gobbledygook.

With an even louder sigh, Clarke pulled her phone from her pocket.

"Hey--" Raven answered on the second ring - her mouth seeming full of food.

Before she could say anything more, Clarke cut in. "Rae, the washing machine is doing that thing again."

"And what 'thing' would that be?"

"The numbers at the front are all jumbled."

Yes, she sounded terse and perhaps some would say rude, but they were (mostly) Raven's clothes after all. Well, that's what Clarke told herself anyway.

The line went silent until loud obnoxious slurping rang in Clarke's ear. "Press and hold the power button and the start button together for five seconds to restart the screen pannel and you should be good to go."

"Thanks, Rae."

"No probs, and tell your wife thank you. 'Woods' still serves the best strawberry shakes in town."

The artist did as instructed, pressing the phone closer to her ear. "You're still at the restaurant? I thought you and Anya would be making the most of the rest of her day off?"

"Yep, but you know what our women are like," Raven still slurped. "She checked in for like two minutes to rush off again, because she thought Lexa might need her. But oh, hey - I gotta go my ice cream is here."

"Ice cream with a milkshake?"

Raven laughed, and Clarke was sure she could already hear the spoon hitting the glass dish. "What? I'm hungover." The line went dead, before Clarke could risk sounding like her own mother, but she had way too much on her mind right now to worry about than Raven's dairy intake.

Also the fact that she hadn't heard from the art collector didn't mean anything. The woman could just be busy, and wasn't she the one telling Lexa that nobody worked on New's Years day? Though Desmarais did say she would call...

She was quickly roused from her thoughts by the feeling of water lapping against her socks.

"Wait, what? Water?" Clarke gasped, springing into action as the large white appliance began a spin cycle - leaking water from the door.

"Shit," she snapped, switching off the power. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" The blonde made a mad dash for a near by towel to soak up the puddle of water.

This was all she needed.

"Sh. Sa," Emma's voice sounded from behind her.

Everything around Clarke stopped. A feeling of dread swept over her. She'd been so careful with her potty mouth around Emma. So careful, and now her daughter was going to learn her first swear word because of her, and not Aunt Raven like everyone had assumed.

"Shhe. Shit," Emma clapped delightedly at discovering a new word. "Shit. Shit." She repeated, bouncing up and down from inside of the blue laundry basket.

"Emma no," Clarke paled, hurrying over to her daughter. "Mommy made a mistake, baby. We don't say that word."

Emma's smile only seem to get wider - the first real smile since Lexa had gone to work. "Shit Mo.Mo."

"Lexa is gonna kill me," Clarke face-palmed.

But first things first - the leaking washing machine. The accidental profanity could wait.

Niron: 1:34 p.m.

Lex the washing machine is broken again. :(

Lex-babe: 1:37 p.m.

Did you call Raven? x

Niron: 1:38 p.m.

1st thing I did, but I think she's made it worse. :(

Lex-babe: 1:40 p.m.

Sorry :( I'll call the repair company. Do not worry. x

Niron : 1:40 p.m.

Thanks, babe. How's work? xx

Lex-babe: 1:42 p.m.

Hectic. A man has locked himself in one of the restaurant bathrooms. How is Emma? x

'Well, she did say she's having a hectic day. Telling her about Emma's new word, can wait. Right?'  Clarke thought to herself, with a bite of her bottom lip.

Niron : 1:43 p.m.

Miss Grumpy, but a guy has locked himself in a toilet stall? Y?

Lex-babe: 1:44 p.m.

It's a long story, but I'll call you later. Give Emma a big kiss from me. x

Lex-babe: 1:44 p.m.

Oh, and if she's grumpy make sure she has Mr. Snowman to snuggle or she won't go down for her nap. Love you. xx

Niron : 1:45 p.m

Love you too xx

"Mama sends you a big kiss, baby." Clarke smiled at her daughter.

"Shit." Emma squealed, her voice echoing around the small room.

"Yep. Lexa is gonna kill me."

Chapter Text

I've Had Better Days.

2:45 p.m.

Unfortunately Emma's good mood did not last.

And trying to get Emma to go down for a nap was like the equivalent of trying to wear a bikini in Antarctica. Just impossible.

"No 'aap! Mo.Mo." Came the protested cry from the tearful red faced, toddler.

Clarke tried not to take it personally when Emma's closed fist hit down hard on her shoulder. She ignored the lump threatening to form in her throat at her own oncoming tears, when a small foot clipped her side when it kicked out. This was all part of being a parent. Taking the rough with the smooth; and oh, God - her mind flooded back to all the hurtful things she had spat at her own mother in temper over the years.

Guilt coiled in the pit of her stomach.

Yep. Mother's Day this year would see Abby gifted with many chocolate boxes and flower bouquets.

"You really don't want to take this nap do you?" She asked, adjusting the squirming child on her hip.

Emma locked eyes with her Mommy, a single tear running down her cheek. Before her one worded answer was spoken loud and clear. "No."

Heaving a sigh, Clarke gave up the fight, seating herself and her daughter in the near by rocking chair next to the crib. "OK, but Emma, you know that we don't hit people," she told the sniffling tot firmly. "What do we say?"

Clarke paused, waiting for Emma to settle. Her hand gently carding through soft blonde hair. "We say sorry. Can you say sorry, baby?"

Blue eyes blinked up at her Mommy, and chubby arms wrapped around Clarke's neck. "Mo. Oo. 'oory." She babbled.

"Good girl," Clarke kissed the top of her head. "I know you're missing, Mama. I am too."

"Ma.Ma." Emma repeated.

"But she'll be home soon, baby."

The sudden buzz of Clarke's phone made two sets of blue eyes glance down. When Lexa's photo appeared on the lock screen, Emma's transformation to that of overjoyed was instantaneous, her tears quickly vanishing. A smile taking the place of her pouty frown.

"Ma.Ma!" Emma bounced in Clarke's hold, making grabby hands at the ringing device.

"Hey babe," Clarke answered the phone - smiling almost as wide as their daughter when Lexa's call was on FaceTime. "You finally taking a second to grab your lunch?" She teased, while Emma began to giggle, her tiny fingers wrapping around her Mommy's trying to pull the phone closer to her.

When a piece of chicken was waved in front of the screen from Lexa's Caesar salad, Clarke couldn't help but laugh too.

"It's been non-stop here," Lexa sighed. "But I promised that I would call my two favourite girls."

"Ma.Ma ou 'isses," Emma rambled, puckering out her bottom lip - planting a wet sloppy kiss to Lexa's face on the screen. "Ma.Ma fone."

"Yes, baby. Mama is on the phone," Clarke said watching Lexa blow them kisses. "This one has been missing you all day, Lex. As you can see she wouldn't even take her nap. She sent poor Mr. Snowman flying across the room."

This caused Lexa to shake her head, and make an over exaggerated noise of disapproval. Which only caused Emma to giggle louder.

"Not helping, Lex." Clarke playfully narrowed her eyes, tucking a wild blonde curl behind Emma's ear.

"Sorry love, but I've missed you both so much today." Lexa gave another light sigh, before chewing a second mouth full of food.

Clarke could tell by the strong flex of Lexa's jaw, that today had been nothing but stressful for the young mogul. She would just have to make sure that Lexa made some time for herself to relax when she got home. A bubble bath and a lovely dinner should be just the ticket to help rid her wife's work worries.

"We've missed you too," Clarke smiled, her hands tickling her daughters ribs as she went along. "We've missed Mama, haven't we, baby?" Emma's reply to her Mommy's question was another loud giggle.

Lexa's shoulders seem to relax at the happy sounds of her family, but the slight frown still remained.

"How was the meeting with Indra?"

"Long. The profit percentage margins are higher, thanks to the holiday season, but there is deductibles thanks to damages and other amenities," Lexa explained, rubbing at her temple, while Clarke did her best to follow along. Sometimes Clarke found herself unintentionally zoning out when trying to understand the whole ins and outs of business talk. Especially when Lexa, Indra and Anya went at it - in full on corporate mode. To Clarke, it was like they were speaking another language.

"I really don't understand why guests feel like they have to take stuff when they stay at a hotel," Lexa grumbled to herself.

"Have people been stealing towels again, babe?"

The cost of one towel on paper didn't amount too much, but when the grand total of every missing towel was added up - it meant Lexa's hotel was losing money.

"Ows. Ows." Emma repeated, tugging at the phone.

When Emma's chants went unoticed by her Mama, she pouted. Her bottom lip jutting out, while her hand tugged at the phone once more. "Ma. Aa."

At Lexa's nod to Clarke's question, the blonde continued. "Oh. That reminds me. Did you get that guy outta the toilet stall in the end?"

"We did."

"What was up with that?"

Lexa gave a slight chuckle, before wiping her mouth on a napkin. "I shouldn't really laugh, but the poor guy decided to propose to his girlfriend. He figured a New Year's day lunch would be romantic, but his girl had other ideas and broke up with him instead."

"Ouch," Clarke winced. "That's cold."

"Yep. He'd been planning this for weeks apparently. He even had cupcakes made with 'will you marry me?' written across them."

"Ouc. Uch," Emma spluttered, eyes locked on the phone screen. "Oouch Ma.Ma." She kicked out with her fluffy socks.

"What did the girlfriend do?" Clarke kissed the top of Emma's head in an attempt to settle her.

Lexa shrugged. "She ended it and left. Raven told me, he locked himself in the bathroom after that and refused to leave," Lexa tried to unsuccessfully cover her smirk. "Indra wanted to take down the door and drag him out."

"Wait? Raven was there?"

Least that explained why Raven was hanging out at the restaurant all day. The free entertainment.

"Yep. She had a front row seat to the whole thing. It was her actually who talked him into opening the door. He gave her the tray of cupcakes for her trouble--"

Before Lexa could utter another word, Emma decided to share her new word with Mama. One that was certain to get her attention, if Mommy's reaction earlier was anything to go by. With a giggle, and a loud clap of her hands, Emma uttered with a loud shout. "Shit!"

Everything seem to fall silent. The tension only breaking with another loud cry from Emma.

"Shit, shit Ma.Ma," much like Clarke, she hated being ignored, and wanted her Mama's focus to be on her. Especially if she hadn't seen her all day.

"Emma!" Clarke blanched, trying to hide her face in her daughters hair. "What did I say about not using that word?"

"Sheeeee." The toddler cheered, pressing her tiny fingers to Mama's face on the screen.

For Lexa's part, the mogul ceased all movement her face a blank canvas, before a hint of a smile gave way to a full on chuckle.

"Lex, this isn't funny! I thought you were gonna be so pissed." Clarke's cheeks had turned crimson. She couldn't believe Emma had ratted her out so soon. She thought she at least had a day - tops until Emma's new colourful word made its way out of her mouth. So much for the hope that she had forgotten.

No such luck.

"I blame the washing machine." Clarke looked at her daughters wide smile, before pecking her head with a kiss.

"It isn't ideal that my one-year old is swearing, but it was bound to happen eventually," Lexa gave a soft smile. "You know how she likes to repeat everything she hears. I'm just relieved that it wasn't anything worse."

Clarke knew that Lexa was going easy on her. For that she was grateful. "You're not mad?"

"You know I could never be mad with you."

Clarke could practically feel her heart melt at Lexa's words. "Did I mention how much I love you?"

"Maybe once or twice," Lexa teased. "But not as much as I love you and little miss sleepy there."

With all the S word drama, Clarke failed to notice that Emma was now snuggled up against her - seemingly soothed by her Mama's voice.

"Looks like someone wore herself out," Lexa smiled, with love shining brightly in her eyes at the sight of Emma fighting to keep her eyes open.

"Ma..." Her little tired voice trailed off, her eyes fully closing.

"Mama's here, sweetie. You sleep little one. I love you."

"Ove..."

The Griffin-Woods princess was out like a light.

After carefully reaching across for Emma's yellow throw blanket, to wrap around her while she slept. Clarke turned her attention back onto her phone. Noticing her wife checking her watch.

Lexa's short lunch must be over.

"You will be home in time for dinner won't you?"

She didn't mean for her tone to sound accusatory, but the blink and you'd miss flinch that Lexa gave told Clarke she wasn't wrong in her assumptions.

"About that... I might be home slightly later than five."

"Lexa!" Clarke snapped through gritted teeth - trying to keep her voice down. The last thing she wanted was to wake their daughter. "No, Lex. You said five."

Lexa was never one to intentionally go back on her word, but Clarke knew her all too well and when work was involved, Lexa lost all track of the time.

"I know, but the bathroom guy really threw my schedule off and--"

"No. On this I am putting my foot down," Clarke tried not to sound to annoyed with her. "We both want you home for dinner." She glanced down to Emma sleeping soundly in her arms. "You know she won't sleep tonight unless it's you reading her a bedtime story. She's only asleep now because you were on the phone. You know how she likes us both with her when she falls asleep at nap time."

Never one to argue with her wife. Lexa agreed.

"Okay."

After all it was true, Emma liked the comfort of both parents near before she drifted off to sleep. It was a habit that Lexa didn't want to break. Children grow up so fast and Lexa didn't want to miss a single second.

(At least another nap time wouldn't see Emma crying because she was missing her Mama. Not when Lexa's afternoon FaceTime call became a regular occurrence).

"Good. See you at five, babe. And don't work too hard."

"See you at five," Lexa nodded. "Oh, before I go. Did Desmarais call you yet? "

At Clarke's long pause; Lexa had her answer. "Don't worry. She will - because she'd be a fool not too."

"Thank you, babe. See you tonight."

"See you later, niron."

Once the call had ended, Clarke leaned back - finding the gentle rocking motion of the chair lulling her into her own tiredness.

She only intended to close her eyes for a moment, but before she knew it - she was also asleep.

*

3:27 p.m.

Emma woke first.

Her little fist attempted to cover her large yawn, just like she had seen her Mama do many times before.

She lifted her head from the comfy crook of her Mommy's arm. "Mo.Mo?" Emma questioned, pushing herself up onto her knees to face a sleeping Mommy.

"Mo.Mo." Her girlish giggles filled the quiet room, as she placed a big wet kiss on the tip of Clarke's nose.

"Hmh?" Clarke startled awake, steadying her daughter. "Did you have a good nap, baby?" She asked, through her own yawn. Wondering to herself - how long they had been asleep for.

"Ma.Ma?" Is her only answer, while Emma reached down to Mommy's pocket for the phone.

"Mama is still at work," she kissed her cheek, getting to her feet. "But I bet you're hungry after your nap, huh?"

Clarke watched her daughter point toward the bedroom door. Her legs kicking out happily. "Wan 'uice."

Once Clarke had distracted Emma with a Sippy cup full of organic apple juice and a selection of toys, she began to make preparations for dinner.

She was making one of Lexa's all time favourite meals: Clarke's tasty beef and spinach in sauce, Ricotta - Cannelloni.

Right about now, Clarke was feeling a little like Wonder Woman as she dashed around her kitchen. Following the much loved recipe to perfection; well not that she was one to brag, but she had cooked this particular dish for Lexa many times over the years, and always basked in the joy of Lexa's empty plate.

It filled her with pride to know that even though her wife owned two top class restaurants, with some of the best chefs' around serving up culinary masterpieces on a plate. Lexa still preferred Clarke's home cooking.

The blonde had just filled each pasta tube carefully with the meat and cheese mixture, when her phone chimed.

She had tried not to stare at her phone too much, waiting for the art dealers call. She knew deep down that it was a long shot to expect Desmarais to give the commission to a relatively newcomer on the art scene. Still, she couldn't help hope that there might be a chance.

Her shoulders sagged when it was only a text from Jasper.

"Ma.Ma fone?" Emma's voice sounded from behind her.

Her frown disappeared when she noticed Emma bounding toward her on two unsteady feet. Mr. Snowman held tightly under her arm.

"Look at you walking all by yourself, baby," Clarke quickly wiped her hands on a near by dish cloth, scooping Emma into her arms. "My little grown up miss."

"Ma.Ma fone." Emma repeated, leaning toward the countertop where her Mommy's phone lay.

Clarke shook her head, placing a kiss on her cheek. "No. It isn't Mama on the phone, baby. Only Uncle Jasper."

"Ma.Ma," Emma scowled, pointing again to phone. "Wan' Ma.Ma."

"She'll be home very soon, but for now wouldn't you like to play?" Clarke set her down, watching her closely while she wobbled back over to her playmat. The little tot picking up her toy telephone, holding the red receiver to her ear. Her voice happily babbling away.

With a sigh of relief that there wasn't any tears, Clarke turned her attentions back on dinner. All she had left to do was stir the basil into the remaining tomato sauce. Carefully ladle over the white sauce - then layer the sauces without them mixing. Bake for 40 minutes on a medium heat. Sprinkle with Parmesan - then placed back into the oven on low until Lexa's return.

Simple.

"Now with that out of the way," Clarke spoke out into the room. "It's time for your dinner, Emma."

But what Clarke failed to notice in her rush was that her oven dial was not set to number four.

In fact it was set on number six.

*

4:07 p.m.

Trying to feed Emma was easier said than done.

"Mmmm," Clarke made an over exaggerated noise of delight. Trying to tempt Emma into eating the blob of creamy goo, while she sat squirming in her high chair. "Pumpkin and banana. Yummy." She scooped up a spoonful of the organic baby food. Holding out the little orange spoon to Emma's closed mouth.

Blue eyes glanced down to the spoon in front of her, before Emma shook her head. Her message clear: No.

"Open up, baby," Clarke tried keeping her tone of voice light. "Look. It's din-dins. Yum."

"No dins." Little fingers pushed Mommy's hand away.

Not one for giving up without a fight, the artist decided to go with plan B. Or as Lexa liked to call it: 'Operation choo choo train'.

This always resulted in two things. 1.) Emma's giggles. 2.) Emma eating her food.

It never failed. (until it kinda did).

Rolling her shoulders, as if she were a boxer about to step into the ring; Clarke took a deep breath in through her nose. Her voice taking on the perfect mimic of a conductor. "All aboard the yummy choo choo train food express. Destination tummy. Choo! Choo!"

Clarke guided the small spoon to Emma's mouth in hope, only for her little girl to turn her head away at the last second.

Damn it. She'd followed Lexa's dialogue to a tee, and still nada.

"Choo choo, Emma."

"No dins." The little blonde repeated.

With Clarke's enthusiasm clearly not working, she would have to try some tough-love. Because she couldn't let her little one go hungry.

"Emma, please. Come on now, you have to eat your dinner."

Once more Clarke held out the spoon to no avail. "Emma," she uttered more firmly.

The tears started soon after that. Quickly followed by Emma taking a hold of her Mommy's sleeve. "No!" The shove from little hands were firmer than Clarke expected sending the plastic spoon flying to the ground.

"Emma," she sighed, trying not to sound to exacerbated at the splattered goop now covering her white socks. "You must eat--"

The ringing of Clarke's phone couldn't have come at a more inconvenient time. Her daughter was crying, refusing to eat her food and Clarke really didn't feel like answering the darn thing right now. A conversation with anyone other than Lexa telling her she was on her way home, just wouldn't do.

Much like the rest of her day, things weren't really working out as Clarke planned. The call, as it turned out, was one she couldn't simply ignore.

It was Desmarais.

This one phone call could help change her career for the better.

"Ma.Ma fone?" Emma reached out her hand to Clarke's ringing cellular. "Ma.Ma fone."

"No baby, it isn't Mama, but hold on a second sweetie." Clarke stepped away from the high chair, causing Emma to sob louder.

Well so much for sounding professional; here goes nothing. "Hello. Clarke Griffin-Woods speaking."

"Oh, hello. My assistant contacted you regarding a possible commission?" The sweet accented words floated through the line.

Before her lips could move, the sound of a dish clattering to the floor gained her full attention - as well as the flying food Emma had managed to grab before she threw her bowl down. The said piece of food landing against the refrigerator door with a splat.

Great. Just great.

"Yes. I've been looking forward to your call--" She tried to soldier on until Emma howled loud enough to interrupt her.

"Ma.Ma!"

"It's OK, sweetie," Clarke covered the mouthpiece on her phone. "Mama, will be home very soon." She tried to soothe her distressed daughter. Peppering kiss after kiss to the crown of her head. "I'm so sorry about this, but could you just excuse me for a second?" The artist apologized to her potential client. There was no way that the art collector hadn't heard Emma's cries.

Commissions' aside, nothing was more important to Clarke than her daughter. She only hoped that Desmarais would understand.

"Of course, my chérie."

Clarke lifted her daughter out of the high chair, holding her close. The sound of Emma's cries jarred right through Clarke's heart, and she knew the only antidote was her wife.

"Ma.Maa." Emma pointed her little finger to the kitchen door. Mama was always there when she called out for her and little Emma could not understand why she wasn't coming to her now.

"Mama's still at work, baby." Clarke rocked her gently until Emma's head came to rest on her shoulder. A sure sign that she had calmed.

"Would you like some more juice?" She offered, only for Emma to shake her head. "Okay. Maybe later then, but Mommy's going to talk on the phone again now." When little hands started playing with Mommy's hair - she picked up the call.

"Hello? Ms Desmarais, are you still there?"

"I am still here."

"I can only apologize. My daughter decided to get into a disagreement with her dinner."

The affectionate chuckle Desmarais gave in return, put Clarke more at ease. "There is no need for an apology, I assure you. It reminds me of my daughter at that age. What is your little angel called?"

"Emma, Ms Desmarais."

"Aww, Emma. And please call me Phryne."

"Thank you for your understanding. Perhaps we can start again?" Clarke said. "Hi, I'm Clarke."

"Hello Clarke," Phryne chuckled. "I won't keep you for long, since your little angel needs you. So, I'll cut to the chase. Dante Wallace has offered me an outstanding deal ma chérie."

The art world was a little bit like swimming in a shark tank and no other company had bigger teeth than Mount Weather gallery.

Clarke was ready to wave the deal goodbye. There was no way she could compete fairly when Mount Weather had a reputation for being underhanded - despite the level of exquisite artworks they made and possessed.

Hopefully there would be a next time.

"But I must confess that your work speaks out to me. From what I've seen of your charcoal collection, Clarke, it's simple flawless." Phryne continued, her voice soft and her tone filled with unspoken joy. "That is why I have decided that I want to go with you for my commission."

Clarke was sure that for a fraction of a second the world had stopped turning. The only other time she could recall a feeling like this was when she first laid eyes on Lexa. Everything around her ground to a halt and Lexa seemed to move in slow motion, and she knew from that very moment - that Lexa was the one.

"I'm sorry. You're what?" She had to make sure that she had heard her correctly.

Phryne softly laughed. "I figure I better buy some of your pieces now before the waiting list of your commissions is too long. That or it's too expensive."

"Wow. I... Thank you." Clarke was almost rendered speechless, and for those who knew her. It was something of a rarity.

"You have talent, Clarke and I look forward to working with you. I will set up a meeting and we shall discuss things further. I believe that is all for now. I will say, goodbye and let you get back to little Emma."

"Thank you, Phryne. Speak soon. Bye."

"Au revoir pour le moment." ((Goodbye for now))

She'd done it.

She had actually done it. The five piece commission was hers! And Lexa had never doubted that she would do it - not even for a single second.

Clarke really wished she could hug her wife right now.

"Mommy did it, baby," Clarke gasped with excitement, lifting Emma into the air. "Mommy got the commission!"

"Mo.Mo." Emma giggled.

"Let's go call Mama and tell her the good news."

In hindsight maybe she should have checked on dinner first.

*

5:17 p.m.

Lexa checked her watch for the tenth time in the space of five minutes.

She was running late, but with good reason.

Clarke's news was something that needed to be celebrated.

Once her convertible was parked, the green-eyed beauty made a sprint for the house. "Mama's home." Lexa called out, placing her briefcase down by the coat rack. Trying not to jostle the colourful array of flowers also held in her arm. "Sorry I'm a little late, but I got you something."

With no reply and the smell of burning greeting her, Lexa made her way to the kitchen. "Clarke? Emma?"

"Ma.Ma?" A little voice called out first, followed by tiny feet racing toward her. "Ma.Ma!"

Lexa scooped her delighted daughter up before the tot could overbalance. A kiss was soon placed on Lexa's nose by Emma. "Ma.Ma."

"Hello my sweetie," Lexa kissed her cheek in return. "I have missed you so much, baby."

"Mis' ou." Emma squealed out, arms wrapped tightly around Mama's neck that would not be budged anytime soon.

A loud cry from Clarke, had Lexa's own feet moving.

"No. No. No," Clarke shouted out. The cannelloni practically smoking in the roasting dish. "It's ruined!"

"Hello niron." Lexa couldn't help but smile at the sight of Clarke waving away the smoke in the air using the oven mitts.

The blonde turned to her wife, her pout almost identical to Emma's. "Don't smirk. It's not funny."

"I wasn't." Lexa pecked her wife's lips with a delicate kiss. "And these are for you. Congratulations on your commission, love."

Clarke could feel herself swoon, but she didn't care. The flowers were lovely. Her wife is lovely and some stupid burnt to a crisp pasta dish wasn't going to spoil her good mood.

"Thank you, babe. They're gorgeous." She kissed her lips once again, before taking the bouquet from her.

"Shall I order take out?" Lexa offered, while Emma still clung to her like a koala bear.

"You read my mind, babe."

*

6:26 p.m.

"I am officially full." Clarke groaned throwing the half bitten pizza crust back into the box.

" 'ull 'ull," Emma spoke with a mouth full of mashed banana, contentedly sitting on her Mama's lap.

Her mood had returned back to her usual happy self now that Mama was home.

"Yes, Mommy is feeling full." Lexa placed a kiss to the top of blonde hair, before she used a wet wipe to clean off the excess food around Emma's face.

"But I still have room for dessert," Clarke smirked. "That tub of Haagen-Dazs: chocolate salted caramel has my name written all over it." The artist licked her lips at the very thought of ice cream after the stressful day she'd had.

"...'aramel." Emma tried to repeat, her blue eyes watching Mommy head into the kitchen.

"Bring two spoons." Lexa called after her.

*

7.57 p.m.

"She fell asleep before I even finished the page in the book." Lexa explained, joining Clarke in their bedroom.

"I'm not surprised," Clarke cuddled up next to her wife. "She didn't sleep much at nap time. She really missed you today."

"I missed her," Lexa kissed the top of Clarke's head. "And you."

"Tomorrow while you're at work, I'll take her to the park or do something more fun to distract her."

Lexa nodded. "She'll love that."

"Mmmm." Clarke hummed, enjoying the closeness of her wife.

"It goes without saying, but I'm so proud of you, niron," Lexa held Clarke tighter. "I'm just sorry that Emma was upset because of me during the phone call. If I'd been home perhaps--"

"Shush you," Clarke grinned pulling her wife into a deep kiss. "Everything worked out in the end."

"Well, except dinner." Lexa teased, earning a glare.

"Yes. Except dinner," she repeated with a roll of her eyes. Before she snuggled into her arms again. "Sorry I burnt it, but in my defence I did have a pretty big distraction."

"If it's any consolation, it looked like it would have tasted delicious."

"Charmer, but what do you say we have a soak in the tub together?" Clarke nudged her wife's shoulder.

"Sounds perfect."

Clarke may have had better days, but she figured this one wasn't so bad after all.