When Clarke's phone began tinkling it's innocent little theme song, she couldn't have known what answering it would mean for her. After all, Octavia regularly phoned to ask about trivial things, like colors for the nursery or whether she should cut her hair. It didn't even occur to her that, goddess forbid, Octavia was calling to ask for a favor.
"Hey Futuremama, what's up?," Clarke answered, hearing a small chuckle from her friend at the nickname she had bestowed upon her, a play on the animated comedy Lincoln so vehemently adored.
"I have a favor to ask you."
A grimace contorted Clarke's features, but the 'ding' of the waffle-maker prevented her from voicing her distaste. She tilted her head uncomfortably to hold the phone against her shoulder, using both hands to open up the steaming metal contraption within which her breakfast awaited. "What's up, O?," she asked, deciding to at least tolerate the request.
There was a pause at the end of the line, then; "Lincoln surprised me with tickets for a week-long tropical retreat. I think it's a ploy to try and relax my birth canal pre-baby, but it's a nice thought, right?"
At this, Clarke's eyebrows rose a bit, but she was mostly preoccupied with lifting a horribly scorched waffle from it's coffin. "Oh come on, this thing is automatic, how the fuck did it burn?," she muttered to herself, although she heard another of Octavia's snickers. "Yeah, that's really cool, O," she added distractedly, pouring more batter into the thing as if somehow, another shot would turn out edible. "Have fun."
"There's just one little problem. My cousin, you know, the one with the hair? He broke his foot and needs someone to watch his ranch and do some manual work, just to get it ready for summer." Clarke breathed in sharply at the mention of ranch work, but Octavia continued before she could say anything. "Bellamy is going there to do the work part, you wouldn't have to worry about that. He has a huge fear of horses though and won't go near them, so I need someone to feed and move them from pasture to pasture whenever he needs to get work done. I know it's a lot to ask, but as soon as we're back, Lincoln and I will take over."
Clarke's mood was further compromised when she removed another burnt waffle, and then again when Octavia mentioned Bellamy. Her best friend's brother wasn't exactly her biggest fan, nor she his. She stayed silent for a moment, unplugging the waffle-maker and leaning heavily against the counter while she mulled over the request. Octavia didn't have any other family to ask, or she would have, and all of their friends were wrapped up in finals.
"Okay, I'll do it." She wouldn't be able to handle making Octavia sad, or worse, making her miss her trip. Not to mention, the woman was eight months pregnant and her wrath was inescapable.
"Thank you so, so much, I really owe you one! I'll text you the address, there are instructions for feeding the horses posted in the kitchen. Bellamy will be there tomorrow. And Clarke?" Octavia's tone of voice suddenly transferred from jovial gratitude to seriousness.
"Yeah?"
"Please, just try and get along with him. He's really not as bad as you think."
Clarke hollowly assured her that she would, then said her goodbyes and wished her friend a fun time. But once the call had ended...
"Not a fucking chance."