"What?!" Bellamy watches as the First Daughter stands with her hands on her hips in the Oval Office glaring down her father, the President of the United States of America. "Dad! I am trying to be a normal person, remember?"
"Yes, dear. I remember. Agent Blake is going to just be another regular guy at school, I promise," he says, glancing down at some paperwork sitting in front of him, his tone full of dismissal.
"No," Clarke whips around and glares at Bellamy as he stares dutifully in front of him, giving the president and his daughter privacy without leaving the room. "Why him? Why not someone else? Dad! I'm not leaving this office until you answer me!" She sits down in a huff. Clarke has never been one to throw temper tantrums to get her way, not even when she was a baby. Especially not with her father, whom she has practically had eating out of the palm of her hand for her entire life.
"Because Clarke," the president sounds exhausted. "He is the youngest member in the service. He's good at what he does and I trust him. As should you." He turns away from her. "You really should finish packing, your plane leaves in a few hours." By plane, he means Air Force One, of course. Clarke stands up slowly, eyeing her father before stomping from the room.
This should be fun, Bellamy thinks as the door slams shut behind his new charge.
…
"Stop it," Clarke hisses at him as they stroll towards their new home.
"What?" Bellamy glances down at her quizzically.
"Stop looking like that.. all Secret Service-y." He quirks an eyebrow at her.
"'Secret Service-y'? Come on, Clarke. Neither of us wants to be doing this but your father-"
"SHHH!" She casts a furtive glance around at the other students. "I don't want people to know who I am."
"You don't think they'll recognize your last name?" Bellamy laughs.
"Griffin is a common enough surname. Besides, hopefully these people don't pay much attention to politics?" She adds.
"Yeah, right," Bellamy grumbles in faux agreement. "So, when do classes start?"
…
Two weeks into classes and Bellamy is already tired of them. He hates the philosophy class Clarke is taking; the professor is crazy. The only class he can seem to stay awake in is her mandatory history class, which she hates. They're in this class when Bellamy drags his eyes from the pretty professor and notices Clarke leaning into a boy beside her, whispering in his ear and giggling. The boy has long, dark hair and dark brown eyes.
Throughout the day Bellamy keeps his distance, as usual. Trying to give the president's daughter a "regular college experience". Minus allowing her to indulge in alcohol or anything else most people associate with a regular college experience. No partying for the First Daughter. He does, however, notice that the boy from their history class is tagging along throughout most of the afternoon and it isn't until later that night, at dinner, that he approaches Clarke.
"Who is he?" He asks in quiet undertones as they sit at a table in the atrium.
"Who?" She asks flippantly.
"The guy in our history class, Clarke."
"Don't worry about it."
"Fine," he shrugs, biting into his sandwich. The teachers at the university are aware of his relationship with Clarke. He'll just approach the teacher and ask for the kids name.
The next day, he does just that. "Excuse me, Mrs…"
"Miss Stone. Yes, Agent Blake?"
"Erm, just Bellamy, please. I have a question about one of the students in our class. He has dark hair.. sits next to Clarke Griffin a lot? What's his name?"
"Let me see…" Miss Stone pulls out a piece of paper with a list of names on it. "Collins, Finn." She smiles brightly up at him. "Is there anything else I can do for you today, Bellamy?"
"Nope, I should probably sit down before class starts." And he does, deliberately picking out a seat at the very back of the lecture hall and opens his computer. He logs in and while the professor starts her lecture he sends an email to another agent and within a few short moments he is reading the entire life story of Collins, Finn.
…
"He's a delinquent, Clarke!"
"I can't believe you did a background check on him! You had no right!"
"I had every right! It is literally my job to know every single person the flits in and out of your life! He's been arrested. Four times."
"For minor incidents," she shrugs and lays back on her bed. Another one of the not so normal college experiences; Clarke has an entire suite to herself with Bellamy located right next to her with a door that connects the rooms.
"Minor incidents. Is that what he told you? Because I'm telling you, some of them weren't. Graffiti, whatever. But stealing? Assaulting a police office?"
"It wasn't assault, just… resisting arrest."
"Clarke," Bellamy squeezes the bride of his nose feeling like he is talking to a child. "He hit a police officer. That is assault."
"They dropped the charges."
"Only because he accepted the plea bargain!" Bellamy is shouting now and he can feel his frustration growing.
"You're not my boss, Bellamy. I can do whatever I want and hang out with whomever I want to. Goodnight." Without another word she rolls over and hits the flip on her lamp and the room plunges into darkness leaving Bellamy with no choice to retire to his own room.