A/N: Hey, everyone! I'm so glad to be back! This show has completely consumed me. I've been sick, and I think I've already watched it through like three times. And every time, it kills me that Bellamy and Clarke aren't together! So here's my Bellarke fic. It's AU in the modern world, but it's still definitely in character. It will contain a few other couples, but Bellarke will be the main focus. I hope you guys like it, and as always, read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own The 100.

Chapter One

"Guess what, bitch? I'm getting married next week!" Octavia Blake's voice screamed across the phone as her best friend Clarke Griffin held it to her ear.

"I know, that's why I'm packing in such a damn hurry. I have to leave tomorrow if I'm gonna make it for your week of festivities. Seriously, who has a week-long wedding ceremony?" Clarke asked, pausing from her furious tossing of her clothes into a suitcase. Due to the short engagement, Clarke couldn't get a plane ticket across the country from LA to Portland, Maine without paying out the ass for it. So she was driving. Across the country. In her ancient Volvo. Alone.

"It's not a week-long wedding. It's a week of family bonding and preparations before our friends arrive to celebrate our marriage."

"Same thing, Octavia." Clarke grabbed a hairbrush and threw it into the bag. "And I have to leave at four thirty in the morning if I want to get to you in three days."

"About that…" Clarke knew that tone. Octavia was about to spring something on her, and it wasn't going to be good.

"No, no, no, no, Octavia, you can't do this to me!"

"It's not a big deal! I swear! It's just…. Bellamy kind of needs a ride."

Clarke could probably have handled anything but that. Bellamy Blake was Octavia's older brother. And as much as Clarke loved Octavia, she despised her brother equally as much. If not more. He was smarmy and condescending and he hated Clarke. And he was a complete asshole.

"Octavia, I love you. You know I would do just about anything for you. But if you put Bellamy and I in a car together for three days, someone is going to roll off the side of the road in a body bag."

"Please, Clarke? You know what happened to his house. He can't afford a plane ticket right now." Shit. Clarke had just about forgotten about that.

Two weeks before they were supposed to be in Portland, Bellamy's house had caught fire. Apparently his friend Miller hadn't completely put out a cigarette, and the curtains caught fire, and then the rest of the house. He had nothing until his insurance money came in. As it was, he still lost all his clothing, his photos, his family cookbook his mother had given to him when he'd enlisted in the army. All the money he made at Miller's private security firm was currently going to the hotel room he was staying in until he could get insurance money. And he'd bought some clothes.

Clarke had known the Blake family almost all her life, since they'd moved to Portland when Clarke and Octavia were in fifth grade. The girls had become instant friends, but Bellamy had never liked her. Part of it had to do with his insane drive to protect Octavia at any cost, and she had no clue what the other part was. Truth be told, she'd had a crush on him as a kid. Up until high school when she realized he was never going to treat her any better and the boobs that were filling in were attracting other guys. And since Bellamy had always felt the need to be obnoxious to her, she decided to return the favor. The rest was history.

"You know how to make a girl feel bad, don't you?"

"Not just any girl. You're special."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't. You're just jealous I'm have sex on the regular and you can't remember the last time you got laid."

"I can remember it! Stop saying I need to have sex, I'm fine."

"You're wound up tighter than a spring. I mean, I know you've always been a little uptight. But you've been even worse ever since you moved to LA."

"You know, I think it might be Bellamy. It's like his awfulness is spread through the air and I'm finally close enough to get infected."

"Okay, my brother is not a sci-fi villain, and I really think he's changed. This fire has had a big effect on him."

Clarke sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I'll believe it when I see it."

"So you'll take him?"

"Tell him to be ready by four AM tomorrow morning. And he better drive part of the way." Split driving time. Look at the upsides, Clarke told herself.

Bellamy Blake stood outside his hotel at 3:55 AM sharp on Friday morning. Clarke had even made a point to get there early, just to have the satisfaction of telling him he was late if he came down even thirty seconds after four. Damn him for ruining her pettiness.

Clarke hopped out of the car, her blonde hair wet from the shower. She hadn't bothered with makeup and she wore a pair of old yoga pants with a baggy sweater. She definitely wasn't looking her best. Not that she needed to impress Bellamy, but she didn't want to give him any more ammunition than she already did just by being herself.

"Morning, Princess," he said as he began loading his bags into the trunk. That nickname was yet another thing that annoyed her about him. She'd told him repeatedly not to call her that, but he continued. She'd given up at this point.

"I'm driving first," Clarke said, ignoring his greeting.

"I see you haven't had your coffee yet this morning." For some reason, he was trying to make conversation. She had no idea why, but he was definitely up to something.

"I don't drink coffee."

"Of course you do. You can't make it through a morning without a cup. But black. At least you don't have the sugar jitters."

Damn him for being right. And damn him for knowing that. How did he know that?

"Yeah, well, I've had my coffee. I promise you I won't crash the car."

"Not what I'm worried about."

"What exactly are you worried about, Bellamy?"

"The chances of you killing me on this trip are greatly reduced if you've had your coffee."

And he was right yet again. "I can't kill you, Blake, I took a Hippocratic Oath."

"How'd you manage to get so much time off from the clinic?"

"I haven't taken vacation time in years. Most people don't think doctors get vacation time, but we do. I have about four weeks saved up."

She could feel Bellamy's eyes on her. She knew she didn't look great, but he didn't have to gawk, did he?

"You look different."

"Power of makeup. I would think you, the great seducer of women, would know that by now. Most women wear it, but I didn't want to put in the effort this morning."

"You don't need it." But he didn't deny the 'great seducer of women' comment. That pissed her off.

"Because nothing could fix this face, right?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it. Stop being a brat."

"Let's just ride in silence, shall we? We can switch when we need to get gas."

"Sounds perfect." At least now he was back to his usual self, which was comforting. Bellamy being nice was just weird. Even if it was only because of some twisted sense of gratitude.

Because they were switching off driving, they could sleep in between shifts. They'd been driving for a day and a half when it happened. Thirty minutes after they'd stopped at a gas station in Gary, Indiana at three in the afternoon, the car started making a strange squeal. They might not have noticed it, had it not been for the extreme uncomfortable silence that had passed between the pair since their initial argument.

"What's that noise?" Clarke asked, perking up in the passenger seat.

"I'm not a mechanic, Clarke. I don't know what it is." Bellamy rolled his eyes at her.

Luckily for Bellamy, they were rolling into a town. Clarke's phone and a quick Google search told her there was an auto body shop on Main Street. "Pull in right there." She indicated a driveway on the small road they were headed down.

When the car came to a stop, the pair of them got out and walked around to the front of the car. A grizzled older man in overalls walked out of the garage, with a grease-stained bandana in his hands. "Can I help you folks?"

"Yeah, we've been driving for a while and we just started hearing this squealing noise. We got off the highway as quickly as we could and came here." Bellamy filled the mechanic in.

"Okay, well, how bout you two get some lunch while I take a look at it, and I'll get back to you in an hour or two?"

Clarke nodded, noting a diner down the street. "That's fine. Thanks for your help."

"It's no problem. Where are the two of you coming from?"

"We started out in Los Angeles. We're headed to Maine." Clarke chanced a glance over at Bellamy, taking in his expression. His jaw was tight with annoyance. Likely at her, for reasons she didn't even want to contemplate. Bellamy was an encyclopedia of all the things Clarke could do wrong.

"Wow, that's one heck of a drive. What's the occasion?"

"His sister is getting married."

"Ah, young love. I'm sure the two of you are headed in that direction as well, aren't you?"

"Oh, uh, no. No, we're not a couple." Clarke gave a short, awkward laugh. She never realized how this must look to others, but it was a fair assumption that two people of relatively the same age traveling together in a car were in a relationship.

"I see. Well, the diner's right down the street, I'll take a look and hopefully be able to tell you what's wrong in the next hour or two."

Two hours later found Clarke and Bellamy outside the auto body shop with the mechanic, whose name they'd learned was Joe.

"I hate to tell you this, but it looks like one of your belts snapped."

"What does that mean?" Of course Bellamy would be impatient to get back on the road. The sooner they got out of here, the sooner they could get to Maine, and the sooner he could get away from her.

"It means, with a car this old, the rubber in the belt has aged. It becomes slicker and loses it's grip, which probably caused the squeaking noise you heard, and eventually it will become so stiff it will snap."

"So when can we get back on the road?" Did he have to be so short about it? The mechanic was trying to do his job, and Bellamy couldn't help but be his usual ass of a self.

"Unfortunately, that's the bad news. The car's a Volvo, and there aren't really any Volvo dealerships around here. Not too many people drive foreign cars. It's going to take a few days for the part to come in."

"How many days is a few?"

"Probably three or four. It won't take me long to install, I just need to special order it."

"You can order it today?"

"I can order it right now and it should ship in a few hours. But it won't arrive for another few days."

"We can stay here for awhile, right?" Bellamy was finally addressing her, after hours and days of ignoring her. It was her idea, but still. He irked her.

"Yeah, we have some time to spare before the wedding. As long as we can leave here by Thursday, we should be fine."

"Oh, Thursday should be no problem! I can probably have it ready by Tuesday, but I can't make any promises yet."

Clarke nodded. "How much do we owe you?"

"Well, the part will be about a hundred and fifty, but don't worry about the labor. I'm happy to help a young couple of kids like you get back on the road. We don't get a lot of outsiders here."

"Thank you for your generosity. It's very much appreciated." Joe might not know it, but that was a sincere remark from Bellamy. He couldn't afford an expensive car repair right now.

"It's no problem at all. Welcome to Carrington."