Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 or the characters.
It really was all Octavia's fault, Bellamy thought as he finished the paperwork. She had dragged him along to an animal shelter to look at a dog she and Lincoln were considering adopting, and he's gotten distracted by a cat in one of the kennels. The cat was an ivory colored domestic short hair with a sing brown dot just above its mouth. One look into the cat's bright blue eyes and Bellamy was a goner.
Octavia had convinced him that it couldn't hurt to just hold the cat, so he asked for one of the shelter employees' assistance. The lanky kid with a nametag reading Jasper handed him the cat. "Her name is Clarke," he said as Bellamy cradled her in his arms. "She's pretty sweet once you get to know her."
The cat reached up a paw to rest on Bellamy's shoulder before stretching up to sniff at his face. Her whiskers tickled his face. Without further warning she rubbed her head against the underside of his chin.
"Aw, Bell, she likes you!" Octavia said happily. "You have to get her!"
Which explained why he had spent the next fifteen minutes filling out the adoption paperwork and buying a cat carrier, food bowls, litter box, litter, food, and various cat toys from the shelter shop. Octavia stood beside him, cooing at the cat in her newly bought carrier.
"What will you name her?" Octavia asked as they went to his old pick-up truck, both carrying multiple bags in addition to the cat carrier in Bellamy's hand.
"She already has a name," he replied, letting Octavia get settled in the car before handing her the carrier to hold during the drive. "Why change it?"
After dropping Octavia off at the tiny house she shared with her fiancé, Bellamy drove to his own apartment and started to get the cat settled. As soon as she was released from her carrier, Clarke jumped up to sit on Bellamy's favorite leather chair, watching him as he moved around and placed her box in the bathroom before placing her food and water dishes on the floor just inside the kitchen.
She mostly stayed close to Bellamy for the rest of the day, sitting either on the couch or squeezing between his leg and the side of the armchair. When he retired to his bedroom for the night, Clarke followed, jumping up onto the bed while he stripped down to just his boxers. He turned to the bed to find her curled up on his pillow.
"Oh no," he said, picking her up and placing her at the foot of the bed. "You do not get the pillow."
She darted back up to the pillow while he pulled back the blankets. "Hey!" he picked her up again, rubbing under her chin. "You don't get the pillow."
He got in bed before she could make it to the pillow again, although she did wander back up towards his face and curled up beside his shoulder. Turning his head slightly, he saw the cat place her little head on a corner of the pillow. Smiling, Bellamy fell asleep to the sound of her quiet purr in his ear.
Over the following two weeks Bellamy got to know his new pet better. She only played with ribbons and strings, completely ignoring the balls and feather teasers he had bought her. She nearly strangled him one day when she tried to play with the strings on his hoodie. Clarke didn't sit on laps, but would sit beside him with her furry little body pressed fully against his leg. If she wanted attention she would jump onto the nearest piece of furniture that would put her as close to his eye level as possible and glared at him until he pet her. She purred loudly when he brushed her to remove loose fur. She didn't like to be seen cleaning herself and would leave the room if he walked in while she was licking herself. Every night she tried to sneak onto the pillow before he got into bed.
It really was nice to come home to a pet, Bellamy thought at the end of a long day of teaching high school history. Clarke sat in the living room when he opened the door, her blue eyes focused on the door. She stretched and strolled over to Bellamy, rubbing up against his legs once he had closed the door. He picked her up with once arm and pet her head as he went to his armchair and sat down. Clarke snuggled down between him and the chair, purring as he stroked her.
About a month after adopting her, Bellamy woke up in the middle of the night to a weight on his chest. He looked down into a pair of big blue eyes, registering that Clarke had apparently decided his chest could serve as a replacement for the pillow. Carefully moving the cat back onto the bed, he rolled onto his side.
Clarke sat up beside him, eyes focused intently on his face. He watched in bewilderment as she lifted a paw and placed it on his chest. Removing her paw, she paced down the bed to his bare stomach and repeated the motion, placing her paw on his skin. She pressed her cold nose to one of his defined abdominal muscles before curling up beside him. Confused, Bellamy fell back to sleep.
"I think my cat likes my muscles," he commented to Octavia the next day when they met for dinner.
Octavia rolled her eyes. "Please don't tell me you're becoming one of those weird cat people who consider themselves in a relationship with their pet."
"I'm serious, O. I woke up last night and she was poking my chest with her paw and she nuzzled my abs!" Bellamy explained. "It was really weird."
"You need more human companionship," she replied. "When did you last go on a date? Why don't you let me set you up with someone?"
It happened again that night. Bellamy woke up to the sensation of Clarke kneading his stomach with her paws. Once she saw that he was awake she walked up his chest and rubbed her head against his cheek, purring.
"You're weird," he muttered. "Why can't you be affectionate during the day?"
She curled up beside his shoulder in response, little head on his pillow. Bellamy rolled onto his side and put an arm around her so she was in the crook of his arm. They both fell back to sleep quickly.
The next night he went to bed ready for the nightly race to the pillow, only to find Clarke sitting up at the end of the bed with her tail twitching. She watched him as he stripped down to his boxers, eyes glued on him the entire time. "That's kind of creepy," he remarked, getting into bed. She walked up the bed to him, nuzzling his face before curling up in her usual spot with her head on his pillow.
A few weeks later Bellamy caved to Octavia's demands and let her set him up on a date. The woman's name was Roma. She had brown hair and eyes, worked as a firefighter, and wouldn't stop talking about baseball throughout their dinner. He invited her back to his apartment for coffee after their dinner out of politeness, flipping on his apartment lights as they entered. Clarke came trotting out of the kitchen, pausing at the sight of the stranger in a green dress. Her fur began t puff up and her back arched as Roma approached her with a hand out.
"Careful, she's not always great with new people," Bellamy cautioned as Clarke began to hiss quietly.
Roma started to pull her hand away, but wasn't fast enough. Clarke lashed out her claws, leaving three long scratches on the brunette's hand.
"Shit!" Bellamy snatched Clarke up, putting her in the bathroom and closing the door before turning back to face Roma. "I'm so sorry, here, I'll get you a bandage…"
Roma left soon afterward, no longer interested in coffee. Bellamy let Clarke out of the bathroom, glaring at the cat as she rubbed up against him. "Why'd you do that, huh? She was nice. I know it's not that you have a problem with women, because you like Octavia. What is it, huh?"
Clarke sat down and stared up at him. Sighing, he picked her up and went to sit in the armchair. He cradled her in his arms, rubbing under her chin. "I can't have you scaring off every girl I bring here who isn't related to me, okay?"
Flipping on the television, he watched a show on Ancient Greece until he fell asleep in the chair, still holding Clarke.
He woke up with a stiff back and sore neck the next morning. Stretching, he opened his eyes and froze at the sight of a short blonde woman wrapped in a blanket and sitting on his couch. "What the Hell?" Bellamy jumped to his feet.
"Um, hi," she said, looking up at him with oddly familiar blue eyes. "I can explain."
"How did you get in here?" he demanded, knowing he had locked the door.
She shifted uncomfortable, the blanket sliding from one of her shoulders before she pulled it back up to cover her creamy skin. "Um, you adopted me three months ago?"
"I-" he stopped. "Are you seriously saying that you are my cat?"
"I kind of insulted this traveling gypsy lady by calling her a fake and she cursed me to being a cat for four months," the woman explained. Bellamy noticed she had a small brown birthmark above her lip exactly like the one his cat had.
"Magic isn't real," he replied reflexively.
"I just spent four months cleaning myself with my tongue," she said dryly. "I would be careful what you say about magic."
Bellamy left her in the living room, searching throughout the apartment for Clarke. After checking every possible hiding space three times, he was forced to acknowledge the cat wasn't there. He sat down in the armchair again, staring at the blonde.
"Thanks for not changing my name," she said calmly. "Although I wasn't all that fond of the 'princess' nickname."
"If you hadn't been so demanding, I wouldn't have given it to you," he replied absently, continuing to stare at her.
"Right," she glanced around the apartment awkwardly before looking at him again. Her cheeks turned slightly pink as she blushed. "Um, sorry about the whole muscle-touching thing I did for a while. I was curious. And sorry about the girl last night. I think I got territorial."
He put his head in his hands and burst into laughter, looking back up at her once he was able to catch his breath. "Are you telling me my cat had a crush on me?"
"Right," she said. "This is weirder than expected. You're taking this surprisingly well."
"It's shock," he replied. Noticing the blanket once again slipping off her shoulder, he stood up and went into the bedroom, returning with a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. "Here."
She took the clothes into the bathroom, returning in them and looking like a child in his much-too-large clothes. "Thanks."
"Do you want something to eat?" he asked.
She perked up slightly. "Would you mind making pancakes? You made them last weekend and I wanted one so badly."
"What, sick of tuna?" he asked, walking to the kitchen.
"I don't even like tuna," Clarke answered mournfully. Bellamy burst into laughter as he got out the mixing bowl.
A/N: This is easily the most rediculous thing I have ever written. Thank you for reading and I hope it gave you a laugh.