NSFW

Three Little Words

Clarke walked into the office on Monday and was stopped by Miller. "What's up?"

"What are you doing here?" he asked, brows knit together.

"I'm going to my desk, why?"

"You're on the thirtieth floor."

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't spoken to Bellamy?" he grimaced.

"Mr. Blake and I haven't spoken since Friday."

"I thought he'd have told you."

Clarke thought about it for a moment before realizing that Bellamy and Miller were friends in college and they're still friends now so odds are that Miller knows they've been... whatever Bellamy told him they were.

"He didn't want to talk about work."

"Hmm, okay, well, you're on the thirtieth floor and Lincoln is your supervisor."

"What am I doing exactly?"

"Illustration."

"Really?" she grimaced. Why would Bellamy want her to work in illustrating and not at his desk?

"He emailed me this morning saying that's where you're going."

"Huh, could I speak to him?"

"He's busy."

"I know his schedule, he doesn't have a meeting this morning. Miller, please, I need to talk to him."

Miller stepped aside, "He's not going to be happy."

"Fuck his happiness," she grumbled, storming towards the corner office with the frosted windows.

She didn't knock, she didn't even consider it, just stormed in and gave him that look she knew he knew meant he was in trouble.

"What do you need?" he didn't even look up, his eyes glued to the computer as he typed frantically.

"Why am I moving to the thirtieth?"

"Because you're an artist and you're wasting your talent when you're sitting at my desk."

"Shouldn't I be consulted about it instead of ambushed by Miller?"

"It's a pay raise and something you actually like doing instead of working under a tyrant."

Clarke sighed, deflating slightly, "You know I didn't mean it like that."

"You know I'm your boss and I'm giving you what you want."

"I want you to be fucking real with me for once!"

Bellamy sighed and sat back in his chair, looking up at her with indifference. "What would you like me to say, Ms Griffin?"

"Are you pushing me away because of Friday?"

"My private life does not interfere with my work."

"Bellamy—"

"Ms Griffin, the work day has begun, please get to work."

"I hate you," she breathed and turned, walking out of his office and back to the elevator.

She stepped off at the thirtieth floor and looked around. She's never seen these people in her life and she's working with them now, she spotted Lincoln in the corner and sighed with relief as she headed towards him.

"Clarke," he greeted. "So glad you're here. What do you know about ships?"

"Absolutely nothing."