---------------------Bracing her elbows atop her desk, Lexa sighed heavily, rubbing her temples. The desk lamp seemed much too bright, the words on the page blurring together obnoxiously. She was exhausted, but she had to finish briefing the files in front of her tonight -- Lexa refused to walk into her early-morning meeting unprepared.Â
      Becoming partner at her law firm had only made her already heavy work-load even more hectic -- which usually meant she brought her work home with her. She hated it, especially because it cut down on the time she was able to spend with her son, but the perks were, she had weekends off (Saturdays and Sundays were their days).Â
      Still, Avry was the perfect boy -- bright and full of life, always free to smile and laugh (he took after Costia, her dead wife, in that respect), yet softly spoken and much more formal and compliant than an average five year old should be (traits inherited from her, no doubt).Â
      It also helped -- a great deal, but she wouldn’t admit that -- that Clarke, Avry’s part-time nanny, picked the boy up from day-care, spent the afternoon with him, fed him dinner, bathed him and put him to bed (with the exception of the night-time story Lexa had to read him every night). Honestly, it made the weight on her shoulders so much easier to bare -- the blond was a lifesaver...and it didn’t hurt that she was gorgeous as hell.
      Lexa was far from immune to Clarke’s bright smile and golden hair and blue, blue eyes -- she’d have to be blind to be. But, the lawer was always careful to keep a certain distance between them -- not only was Clarke under her employ (which broke all kinds of ethic codes), but the wound left behind by Costia (even if it was five years ago) was still far too tender. So, Lexa kept their interactions as formal and brief as possible, without being blatantly rude -- she was all too aware of how easily she could fall under Clarke’s charms.
      One simple realization jerked Lexa from her musings  ---- the house was quiet, missing the happy laughs of her son or the droning of the tv or even the bumps and knocks when Avry played perhaps a bit too rough, which only meant one thing; her son was asleep. Lexa breathed out another sigh, taking a moment to revel in the silence -- it wasn’t very common when you had a four-year old.
      But, it also meant that Clarke would most likely be leaving soon --Lexa refused to acknowledge the sting of disappointment the thought brought her. She’d barely seen the blond today and found herself craving that blue gaze (what, just because she was determined to keep things strictly professional, didn’t mean she couldn’t look, right?).
                        Ah, well -------- it was for the best.Â
