Hi again, everyone.

I had an hour of spare time yesterday, so I decided to write a short little Bellarke fic. This is actually my first modern AU I've ever done for this pairing and for the fandom. I really hope I managed to capture the characters correctly, even in a different setting.

Setting: Modern/present day

Warning: Very minor swearing. Also, this fic includes getting something stolen, so if you don't want to read that, sorry!

Note: this was originally published on my Archive of Our Own account. It was published as a "special" (of sorts) there, because my Twitter followers requested I post my next fanfic there first, with this platform a day later. Find me on AO3 (Pawprinter) and Twitter (Pawprinter1).

Enjoy

Running (straight into you)

"Hey!" Clarke screamed, her hand waving wildly above her head. Her feet were already carrying her forward, despite her better judgment.

What was she doing?

Her feet slapped against the pavement over and over, the noise echoing around the empty alley. Her teeth were grit with determination and her eyes were locked on the man that had snatched her laptop bag.

She needed that bag back.

Clarke couldn't care less that she would be leaving the back alley soon, turning onto a crowded street. She didn't think about how dangerous chasing a criminal down in her My Littlest Pony scrubs was.

"Get back here!" she called again. The thief glanced backwards and they locked eyes for a brief moment.

Who did he think he was?

Clarke's anger flared and she pushed her legs harder. Thank the gods that she had just got off from her shift at the hospital and she still had her sneakers on. Sure, Raven had taught her how to walk in heels, but humans would be living in space before she would even dream of being able to run in them.

Sure enough, the thief took a sharp turn onto a very crowded street.

Great, Clarke thought. She couldn't fathom how many people she'd have to weave in and out between to catch up to him.

A moment later, she turned the corner. She was hot on his trail. Maybe it would be her lucky day and she would be able to catch up to him.

Her feet faltered and her stomach lurched.

What would she do when she caught up to him? She couldn't very well ask him nicely to hand her bag back, could she?

God, what was she doing?

Still, she pushed on. That bag was her life.

Well, actually, what was in the bag was her life.

The crowds around her were beginning to stop and stare at them. They must've looked pretty out of place if they made Arkadians turn and stare like this. The people that lived in this city had seen some pretty strange shit.

"He has my bag!" Clarke kept shouting as a way of explaining her actions. "Sorry!" she gasped as she bumped a young woman's shoulder. Some shouted out in anger at the thief as he shoved past them, but luckily most moved out of the way of Clarke.

Clarke huffed. Nobody had stopped to help her. Of course not. It was the classic "anybody, somebody, nobody situation" - there were too many people for any of them to feel obligated to help her. 'Anybody can help her. Somebody else can do that' – everyone had that thought and, what a surprise, nobody stepped up to help. It was textbook phycology.

She could do this by herself. Yeah, she took that one kick-boxing class with Raven all of those years ago and went through a self-defense workshop before she started working at the hospital. She could take him. No problem.

Clarke wished that she could lie to herself at that moment. She could really do with a confidence boost.

Even though people weren't stopping to help, luck was on her side. While he faced the resistance of the pedestrians, she didn't. They were quickly jumping out of her way as she screamed.

She was quickly gaining on him.

She may have looked like a mad man, sprinting after a much larger guy than her, screaming her head off, but she was getting somewhere.

Just a few more feet...

Clarke could hear his his breath coming out in small gasps as he fought to stay out of her reach.

Almost there...

Her hand could almost reach out and grab the hem of his sweater.

An-

Clarke got knocked off her feet, just as she was about to reach out and hook her fingers around her bag. She landed on the ground roughly, the air rushing out of her lungs. She sputtered and coughed, trying to regain her composure. She looked around wildly, trying to see what knocked her off of her feet.

A few feet away, a man sat on the ground, looking just as confused as she felt. He had his stuff scattered all around him. He was rubbing his head, messing up his hair. Like it wasn't messy enough already – it stuck up in all sorts of directions. His black rimmed glasses had slid down his face and hung low on his nose.

In her quick observation of the mystery man, she concluded that he looked very frazzled and very cute.

Despite those conclusions, she couldn't help but feel angry towards him. God he just had to get in her way. Why couldn't he see everyone else moving out of the way for her?

"What the hell!?" Clarke snapped. She looked away from him, glancing towards the thief. The crowd had swallowed him, and she was unable to even see his shoes through the many legs. Her heart sunk. She had lost him. "Great. Just great," she muttered to herself.

"Whoa there, princess, I didn't mean to run into you like that!" the man that knocked her down said, his hands raising in surrender. Clarke shot him a dirty look. What an arrogant jerk if he tought he could call her princess. "I'm so-" He stopped short, cocking his head to the side. "Actually, shouldn't you be apologizing to me? You're the one that was running full speed down a packed sidewalk!" Clarke groaned, her head falling into her hands.

Her day couldn't get any worse.

She didn't have the energy to deal with this. Not after the rotation she just had at the hospital.

"I'm sorry for running into you, sir," she muttered, completely defeated to even argue. Her shoulders slumped forward and she let out a burst of air.

He was right.

It was her fault.

She wasn't paying attention to the people around her at all – she was completely focused on getting her bag back.

The man sitting beside her choked back a laugh.

"Sir?" he questioned, a wide smile on his face. He quickly climbing up from the ground, dusting off his black jeans once he was upright. "Sir…" he repeated, still dumbfounded. While he was straightening his clothing, Clarke didn't move her hands from her face. "Geez, you're making me sound like a senior citizen here!" Clarke could tell it was his attempt at lightening the mood and lifting her obviously downed spirits, but she didn't feel like laughing. She felt more like bursting into tears. "It's Bellamy, by the way." He held his hand out towards her, but she didn't move to take it. He lifted an eyebrow. "Need help getting up, ma'am?" he asked, a cheeky grin on his face. Clarke registered that he was attempting to make a joke, but she wasn't in the mood for this. She sent him a glare.

"I'm not ma'am," she huffed. Still, she reached up and took his offered hand. He helped her to her feet easily. Desperately, she glanced in the direction the man with her laptop bag disappeared to.

All trace of him was gone.

Damn it.

She was torn between screaming in frustration or breaking down into a blubbering mess.

"Well, ma'am, I think you should give me your name, otherwise I don't know what to call you. Ma'am." His smile shifted into a cheesy one, almost like he knew that he just used a really lame pick-up line.

"It's doctor, actually," she replied tiredly. Bellamy's smile faltered. Clarke rubbed her forehead slowly, trying to ease the headache she could feel coming on. Not only did she have a tough day at work, but now she lost one of the most important things in her life.

She really needed that bag he took. It was her life. It had her favorite pair of scrubs, her cell phone, her laptop, and an apple that she really wanted. She felt like an idiot for not backing up her files.

"Ooo, a doctor!" he exclaimed. "I think you're the first doctor I've met in the wild!"

"Wha-" Clarke spun around to face the man and send a comeback his way, but the words died on her lips. Clutched in Bellamy's hands were her laptop bag.

"I think this is yours?"

"Oh my god!" She rushed forward, her anger and frustration forgotten instantly. A wide smile lit up her face and she felt tears forming in her eyes. "Thank you so much!" Bellamy let out a laugh and tossed her bag in her direction. She caught it with ease.

"Don't mention it, no thanks is necessary." Bellamy stuffed his hands in his pockets, suddenly becoming awkward.

"No, really. Thank you," she said alongside a genuine smile. "This bag is my life. I have all of my records on my phone."

It was true. It had many files that were irreplaceable.

She wasn't worried about the thief accessing them – she could've easily sent the kill code that would've erased all the files.

No, she was upset that she would be losing some of the last text messages she received from her recently deceased father. The 'I love you, baby girl' was one of the last texts he sent before he got in the accident.

Thank god for the man. She quickly stopped herself and corrected her thoughts. Thank god for Bellamy. He saved her from hours of frustration and sorrow by snatching her bag – he at least deserved to be known as someone other than 'that man.'

Clarke ripped open the bag and rummaged around. Everything was accounted for, including her cell phone and laptop. She quickly pulled her cell out, pressing it to her chest. She must've looked pathetic, clinging to her phone like this, but it wasn't about the technology. It was about the memories stored on it.

While she was distracted with her phone, Bellamy muttered a goodbye and turned away. As he began walking down the street, she called out one last thank you and turned back to her bag.

She lifted up her sweater and a smile lit up her face. She had caught sight of her apple.

Almost as if on queue, her stomach let out a loud rumble. God, she was really hungry. She began to reach for her apple, but stopped short when she was hit with inspiration. She zipped up her bag and swung it over her shoulder. She glanced towards Bellamy's retreating back.

"Hey! Bellamy!" she called. He didn't hear her, so she jogged after him. She reached for his arm, stopping him in his tracks. He spun around and she came face to face with him. Instantly, she was trapped within his eyes. She hadn't seen so many shades of brown in one set of eyes before. She shook herself, reminding her that she had a goal for coming over here. "Do you want to go out for food?"

"Wha-"

"My treat," she said quickly. "As a thank you." Bellamy's face was blank for a second, before it split into a wide smile.

"I think I'll take you up on that," he agreed. "Where to, Doctor Laptop?" Clarke snorted.

"My name is Doctor Clarke Griffin," she corrected. "You can just call me Clarke, though."

"Bellamy Blake," he said, reintroducing himself. It was his turn for his stomach to let out a loud growl. He rubbed the back of his head, showing how embarrassed he was. Clarke cracked a smile. "Uhhh, so what did you say about food?"

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this. This is probably the fluffiest thing I've written for the fandom - I usually write angst. If you're in the mood to cry, I have several other Bellarke stories out there ("Tortured Souls," "Time," "Gray" and "Ashes). I have two lighter stories as well, "The Demons Within" and "You're A Good Man, Bellamy Blake" - although nothing is as fluffy as this one. Also, they're all set in canon.

Also, I feel like I should put a statement out. Don't chase after people that just stole your stuff. Bellamy Blake won't be there to save your butt lol.

Anyways, I love feedback. Drop me a review to let me know your opinions! Both are appreciated. I also just want to take the time to let you all know that I read each PM and each review. Recently, I've been SUPER busy and unable to reply to most things, but please know I always appreciate it.

Thanks again! Until next time,

Paw