this is probably longer than it needs to be but as a nurse I consider it my duty, ok? ok.
Clarke stood in the crowded hospital lobby, silently fuming as she waited to pick up her mobile coffee order. The barista hardly blinked anymore when she picked up her quad-shot latte, having visually scanned her rumpled navy scrubs the first time she showed up and then dashed off again with her extremely espresso heavy latte, needing a pick-me-up four hours into what ended up being a 16+ hour shift. Working in a 24 hour coffee shop nestled firmly within a level 1 trauma hospital, she was sure he’d seen weirder. Clarke threw a quick glance at the watch that hung off the teal stethoscope around her neck- she had another ten minutes before she had to go and rejoin the chaos that was the Peds ER during cold/RSV season.
Just as she stepped up to the register, a slim hand snaked around her to press her credit card to the card reader, paying for her much-needed caffeine with a quiet beep. The green-aproned cashier smiled at the generous tip as he gave a thankful nod to the woman who stood so close behind Clarke that she could feel the heat emanating off of her figure, the fruity note of her shampoo wafting through the air. Clarke raised an unimpressed eyebrow, already knowing who would be behind her when she turned.
“You didn’t have to do that, Lex. I’m a big girl, I can buy my own coffee.” Clarke spoke into her drink as she handed back the tall iced matcha latte that had appeared on the coffee bar next to her own drink, knowing instinctively it was for the brunette next to her. Lexa hastily paid for her own beverage as she chased down the colorful hallway after Clarke, her matte black stethoscope swinging in its holster that sat jauntily on her left hip as she broke into a quick jog.
A gentle hand snagged Clarke’s elbow, prompting her to slow her aggressively fast walk to a meander. She aquised as she turned back to Lexa, eyebrow cocked sarcastically as she took in the nurse in front of her.
Lexa looked perfect, as always, despite being halfway through what Clarke knew was a perpetually challenging PICU shift. Black scrubs hung on a lithe frame, braids and a half ponytail pulling dark wavy hair away from a stunning face. Colorful pens were neatly lined up in her thigh pocket, her badge swinging with a rolodex of inotrope doses and insulin dosing windows, a smiling, younger Lexa grinning out from a faded hospital badge picture. A monogrammed Patagonia vest covered her top half, unzipped so a hint of a defined collarbone peeked out from the v of her scrub top.
“I promised you when we started orientation all those years ago, I would buy your coffee whenever I trespassed on your turf. And I certainly did today.” Lexa smiled as she talked, those gentle green eyes alight on Clarke’s face as she took in Clarke’s sour expression. She took a calm sip of her green drink as she waited for Clarke’s response, a playful smile tugging on the corner of her mouth.
Clarke scuffed a worn converse against the sparkly hospital floor, chancing another glance at her watch as she worked through her answer very carefully.
“I don’t know why Kane consulted PICU team on that case, anyway- we had it well in hand.” Clarke spoke sullenly to her feet as she took a seat in the lobby, the emergency room entrance visible across the large, brightly lit space. While Arkadia General wasn’t as new as some of the other hospitals, the pediatric center was bright, well lit, and colorful. Cartoon figures danced down the wall, fantastical shapes dangling from the main atrium ceiling. Clarke still remembered the awe she felt walking through the doors as a new grad, eyes glued to the ceiling as she walked breathlessly into the lobby. And somehow, smack into Lexa. That was four years ago.
In the present day, Lexa’s large eyes rounded incredulously as she leaned against a nearby wall, crossing her ankle as she slouched slightly.
“Clarke, that kid had a massive tension pneumo, he needed a stat intubation and double chest tubes secondary to a needle aspiration so he didn’t die in the triage room, in front of his incredibly distraught mother. You already had two intubated patients and two other RSV cases, we have a top level PICU in this hospital so you don’t have to deal with that shit four feet from the front entrance.”
Lexa peeked at her watch as she finished her sentence, running a frustrated hand across her face. Clarke guessed her lunch break was almost over as well. Deep down Clarke knew that Lexa was right, that the little boy had needed to be rushed to PICU so he could get the care he needed, but something grated across her chest whenever she felt like she needed to be rescued. She was a critical care nurse too, dammit.
So what if her lines were always tangled.
Clarke blew out a frustrated breath, glancing to the entrance of the ER where she could see Octavia glaring at her, pointing to her bare wrist as if to say, tick tok, bitch. She could tell by the incrasing furrow in her brow that this wasn’t the first time she had tried to get Clarke’s attention.
“Damn, I have to go, it’s O’s turn to eat and she has a cardiac kiddo that needs to be watched until your people can come grab him and prep him for consult. I gotta go, anyway- I have a hot date tonight that I need to get out of here on time to get ready for.”
Clarke started walking as she spoke, flipping around so she could still face Lexa as she retreated. Her teasing smile let the intensive care nurse know that she wasn’t truly pissed- just a bit of friendly competition.
Lexa’s eyes twinkled as she watched Clarke retreat, rounding the corner to punch the elevator that would take her up to the sixth floor, where the PICU resided tucked in next to the NICU.
“A hot date, eh? Lucky woman,” Lexa called jokingly as she disappeared out of sight.
“You have no idea,” Clarke shouted back as she entered back into the chaos.
Clarke sighed as she rubbed ruefully at her neck, wincing as the clock on her phone glared accusingly at her- 9:45 pm, almost three full hours later than she was meant to clock out. She sorted through her keys to find her apartment key, treading lightly through the darkened apartment as she shucked off her birkenstocks and peeled off her socks. Clarke had changed into her spare set of clothes she kept in her locker after work today, opting to shower in the hospital locker room.
She had forgotten how bloody multi-victim MVAs could get.
A warm muted glow shone from the one green lampshade in the living room, casting a light over the lump on the couch. A smile tugged on Clarke’s lips as she trudged tiredly over to it, weariness gnawing on her bones. She skimmed a gentle hand over the small amount of hair that was exposed from the knit covering, murmuring a hello as the shape moved and eventually emerged, blinking blearily.
“Hi, baby,” Lexa whispered as she visibly shook off the sleep that clung to her eyes, running a soothing hand down Clarke’s arm as she sat on the very edge of the couch.
“Hi, love. I’m sorry I didn’t call, my phone died as I was heading out to the car and I forgot my damn charger. All hands on deck were needed and I didn’t want to leave them until the kiddo was stabilized. I’m sorry I ditched date night.” Clarke left her hand on Lexa’s face, needing the contact after a long day. Lexa nodded sleepily as she turned her lips to Clarke’s palm, pressing a comforting kiss there.
“S’ok. I get it, it isn’t the first time for either of us and it won’t be the last. I ordered Thai from that place you love, your curry is in the fridge and I stopped on the way home from work and got that seasonal beer you like, the pumpkin one. Do you want me to reheat it while you get changed?”
Lexa swung herself up, tucking her hands into Clarke’s old sweatshirt as she righted herself and pushed off, brushing a soft kiss to Clarke’s lips as she padded towards the kitchen. Clarke smiled fondly at the worn piece of clothing ,white letters emblazoned on the maroon background.
“Sure, baby, that sounds good. I love you. Thanks for understanding. ” Clarke stripped off her hoodie as she stood, heading towards their bedroom, the promise of PJs and a hot meal before falling into bed so enticing she could cry.
Lexa leaned against the worn door frame, a smile lighting up her face as she soaked in Clarke’s words, said quietly but no less fervently. The back light danced around her figure, tiny baby hairs haloed around her face.
“I love you too, Clarke. Thanks for letting me come and play in your kingdom today, I love seeing you at work. My badass angel of death.”
Clarke rolled her eyes at the voice that floated through the apartment as she changed quickly, taking her wet hair down from her bun as she moved through the rooms to drape herself around Lexa’s frame dramatically. The fragrant scent of curry shimmered through the room, Lexa reheating it in a battered saucepan as she handed Clarke a frosty beer.
“Don’t you forget it,” Clarke muttered into the toasty hairs that played at the nape of Lexa’s neck, smiling playfully as goosebumps decorated the soft skin.
Lexa turned again to press another kiss to her tired wife, lending her support for what she knew had been a taxing and most likely traumatizing end of shift. They stood in their little bubble, silently taking comfort from each other as the moon shone brightly through the curtained windows, sole witness to the soft love and support that poured from the apartment.
