Remember that time Nicole Kidman went on Jimmy Fallon and they talked about the first time they met? This is based on that.

Bellamy is happily minding his own business, walking down the street on a Saturday morning when he gets a call from Miller.

"What's up?" Bellamy asks as he answers the phone.

"You know my friend Clarke?"

"I mean, I don't know her. But I know who she is, obviously." Everyone knows who Clarke Griffin is. She's the kind of person who's somehow famous without actually being famous. She's rich and gorgeous, a talented artist, and very involved in the community. She's done all kinds of volunteer work, which she can afford to do. Because you know, money can get you those things. Plus her mom is the mayor, so everyone kind of just knows who she is.

"She wants to meet you."

"What? Why?" Bellamy asks, suddenly panicked. He can't think of a single reason why someone like Clarke Griffin would want to meet him. He doesn't even know how she knows who he is. "Have you been talking about me?"

"Well, yeah. People tend to talk about their friends."

"You didn't answer my question," Bellamy huffs. "Why does she want to meet me?"

"I don't know, probably heard about that youth program you're setting up. She likes that kind of shit," Miller says vaguely. Okay, that kind of makes sense. Clarke does like to help out with community stuff and Bellamy has been trying to organise a kind of LGBT youth program, so he can see why she might be interested.

"Okay," Bellamy says.

"Great, she'll be over in twenty minutes."

"Wait, now?"

"In twenty minutes," Miller repeats and Bellamy swears he would strangle him if he were here.

"She's coming over in twenty minutes. I'm not even home right now! That gives me no time to prepare," Bellamy stresses.

"Relax!" Miller tells him. "Just grab some cheese and crackers or something and it'll be fine."

"Cheese?"

"Yeah, some fuckin' brie cheese or some shit. Women love that right?"

"I don't know!" Bellamy practically wails and he gets a dirty look from and old woman walking by. He doesn't even know what brie cheese is. He doesn't have important people over. All he has in his apartment is some left over Chinese food and some dirty old sneakers.

"Just be home in an hour," Miller says and hangs up, leaving Bellamy to fend for himself. He's panicking slightly, so he ducks into the nearest supermarket to get some brie cheese, because despite Miller's advice probably being terrible (after all, being gay, Miller probably doesn't have much idea what women love), it's the only advice he has and his brain probably isn't working to its full capacity at the present time.

So he quickly gets the brie cheese and heads home, and he thinks he should probably shower and change but he doesn't really have time, and he's not really sure what clothing is appropriate for this meeting, so sweatpants and a baseball cap will have to do. After all, it's not like it's a date so he doesn't want to look like he's trying too hard. Clarke's just coming over to… well he's not really sure. Help out with his project, maybe? Or maybe she thinks it's a terrible idea and wants to stop him. Either way, it doesn't require dressing up.

So he just chucks the brie on a plate, realises he doesn't have crackers, puts half a packet of Doritos on the plate to go with the cheese and then his doorbell rings and Clarke Griffin is at his house.

"Hey," he says casually, though casual is the opposite of how he's feeling right now. His house isn't exactly spotless and all he has to feed her is brie cheese and Doritos. He knows she's probably used to a much better reception. But she still smiles at him brightly as he lets her in and she doesn't even screw up her nose at the less than tidy living room.

"Am I early?" she asks. Bellamy is acutely aware of his two-day-old sweatpants and threadbare shirt, especially since she actually looks like she's dressed up for the occasion. She's wearing heels for fucks sake. But then, that's probably just how she always dresses, Bellamy considers.

"A little, but it's fine," Bellamy assures her. "Uh, take a seat," he gestures to the sofa and Clarke sits gingerly on one end while he takes the other. "Brie?" he offers, gesturing to the plate on the coffee table.

"Um…" she looks at the plate. "No thanks."

"I've got leftover Chinese too."

"I'm good."

"Okay," Bellamy nods. He looks at her, waiting for her to tell him why she's here. He doesn't actually trust himself to speak, she's so fucking gorgeous and her perfume smells really good and he's probably going to make an idiot of himself. He'd probably like to ask her out if he didn't think she was way out of his league. If he had anything to offer her.

"I hope it's okay that I asked Miller to set this up," Clarke says, looking a little embarrassed about it, to Bellamy's surprise. She seems supremely uncomfortable, her ankles pressed together tightly, her back straight like she's refusing to relax. He thinks it's probably because she's never been in a middle class home before. He's feeling equally uncomfortable.

"It's fine," Bellamy says. He wishes she would just get to the point so she can leave and he let out the breath he's holding. He slumps in his seat, trying to give the illusion of being relaxed.

"I mean, Miller and I aren't that close but he was telling me about you and he said we'd probably get along. He said it wasn't weird. Is it weird?" Clarke asks, cringing slightly. Bellamy shrugs. Clarke smiles awkwardly. "So, Miller was saying you're starting an LGBT youth program? I saw a picture of you in the paper about it too."

Bellamy nods. Finally, getting to the point.

"I think that's great," Clarke says genuinely. "I'm bisexual you know, I would have loved to have something like this when I was a teenager."

"Yeah," Bellamy agrees. There's a pause, like she's waiting for him to say more, before she keeps talking again.

"Maybe I could help you out in some way? Money or I could give a talk or something? Or both," she suggests.

"Sounds great," Bellamy agrees. Okay, it's over now, she'll leave. Except she doesn't leave, and she doesn't say anything else, so Bellamy turns the video game he'd been playing before he went out this morning back on. "Want to play?" he asks. Clarke hesitates.

"I should probably just go," she says. "Do you want me to go?"

"I don't mind," he says politely. "You can stay if you want."

"Okay, sorry," she says, standing up, and he wonders if he's imagining the hurt in her voice. She actually sounds upset. Or maybe irritated. Or maybe a combination of the two. But he's probably imagining it. Maybe it's the cheese.

"I'll see you around," Bellamy says as she heads towards the door. He thinks maybe he should show her out, but then she's perfectly capable of finding the door on her own.

"Bye," she says shortly, and then walks out of his house.

He doesn't see Clarke again after that, although she donates money to his program, but she never offers to give a talk or anything again, and Bellamy can't bring himself to ask her. He cringes when he thinks about their meeting, and he's glad Miller never thinks to bring it up or asking how it went. And then he gets into running the program, plus his day job as a high school teacher and he kind of forgets about the meeting altogether, which can only be a good thing.

It's probably five years later, when he finally thinks he can say the program is a success and that it's definitely going to continue. There were some trying moments and it was touch and go there for a while, homophobes opposing it in all directions, kids too scared to participate, but he got there. So he decides to throw a party at the centre to celebrate.

He leaves his assistant, Maya, in charge of who to invite, so he's surprised when he sees Clarke and her mom there, though he probably shouldn't be. He doesn't go up and talk to her, but it isn't long before Maya drags him over to introduce them, unaware they've already met.

"Bellamy, this is Clarke," Maya says. "She's Mayor Griffin's daughter. Clarke, this is Bellamy. He started the program."

"Pleased to meet you," Clarke says, much to Bellamy's surprise. She's as gorgeous as ever, and Bellamy thinks maybe now he might be able to work up the nerve to ask her out.

"And you," Bellamy says, a small smirk playing across his lips.

"I'll leave you to it," Maya says, scuttling away.

"You know, we've actually met before," Bellamy says. Five years ago, back when he was twenty three and had accomplished nothing except a teaching degree and he barely knew how to look at someone as gorgeous and successful as Clarke Griffin, let alone talk to her. But a lot can change in five years.

"I remember," Clarke says, her eyes twinkling in amusement. "I thought it best not to let that on to Maya though. Lest we have to explain our first meeting."

"I'm so sorry about that, by the way," Bellamy tells her.

"It's fine," Clarke laughs.

"God," he cringes at the memory. "It was so embarrassing. I remember I was out when Miller called me and he was like, 'Clarke Griffin wants to meet you about the program you're setting up, she'll be over in twenty minutes. Get some brie cheese.' I definitely panicked," Bellamy laughs. "I was pretty much a social recluse and then Miller tells you of all people are coming to my apartment. So, uh, brie cheese it was. Which, I didn't even know what brie cheese was until then."

"I just remember I liked you," Clarke shakes her head, embarrassed, and it takes Bellamy a second to register what she's said, and she but his jaw drops when it hits him.

"Wait, what?" He looks at her searchingly and she's turning a little red, still laughing, but he's just astonished.

"Yeah, and I mean – not now," she clarifies.

"What?"

"Miller was like 'oh you'd really get along with my friend Bellamy' and I'd read about you in the paper, and I thought you were cute. And then he said you'd like to meet me. So I asked him to set us up and –,"

"Wait… what?" Bellamy can't seem to get his head around what she's saying, and he also can't seem to say anything other than what?

"Yeah," Clarke laughs again, more nervous now, and Bellamy is still gaping at her, dumbfounded. Had he blown a chance to date Clarke Griffin?

"That was a date?"

"It was meant to be," she huffs lightheartedly. "But I go over and you're there wearing a baseball cap and you've got nothing."

"I had brie cheese."

"And you wouldn't talk!" Clarke remembers. "You said like two words to me. You just grunted at me."

"I grunted?" Bellamy says, a little defensively, but he's still grinning, despite his embarrassment and shock, because Clarke is still grinning and it's infectious. "Surely not."

"You did."

"I didn't know it was date," Bellamy tells her. "I thought it was about the program!"

"It was meant to be… I don't know a hang or somewhere between a hang and a date, but then you barely talked and then you put a video game on," she laughs and Bellamy snorts.

"Shit," Bellamy shakes his head, laughing.

"It was so bad."

"God. So bad," Bellamy agrees, and he's laughing because it's hilarious of course, what a fucking mess he is. But he also wants to crawl up and die because he went on a date with Clarke Griffin and he didn't even know it, and he managed to royally blow it.

"I swear," Clarke laughs. "So then I just left because you so obviously weren't into me. It was so embarrassing."

"Not into – fuck," Bellamy shakes his head again, marvelling at his own stupidity. "You were embarrassed? I was wearing a baseball cap and served you brie cheese and you're the one that's embarrassed. Fuck. I had no fucking idea."

"It's okay," Clarke laughs. "I'm glad we can laugh about it now."

"Do you remember what the house looked like?" Bellamy asks.

"It wasn't much," Clarke says bluntly and Bellamy has to laugh. "I guess we weren't mean to be."

"Yeah," Bellamy says. "I'm going to fucking kill Miller."

"Worst wingman ever," Clarke agrees.

"So, um… what have you been up to?" Bellamy asks, because it's probably time to change the subject. But he's still thinking about the fact that he accidentally dated her and that it was the literal worst date of all time. And she must be thinking about it too, because she gets halfway through telling him about her latest art show when she bursts into laughter again.

"What?" Bellamy says in confusion.

"Stop looking at me like that," Clarke laughs.

"Like what?"

"I don't know, like you're thinking about brie cheese."

"Brie cheese," Bellamy chuckles.

"And Doritos. And old Chinese food."

"Old Chinese food? Holy fuck," Bellamy snorts in laughter. "God it was awful. I didn't know. I'm sorry." He covers his face with his hands, but Clarke is still laughing.

"And you were wearing a baseball cap and sweatpants," Clarke remembers.

"Sweatpants? That definitely didn't happen. You're really trying to make me feel bad about this whole thing, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Clarke grins. "You weren't interested! So you wore sweatpants and a baseball cap."

"That is not true. Fuck, this is embarrassing."

"Do you want to stop talking about it?"

"Please. God. I can't believe this is real." He's pretty sure his face is bright red, but hers is too, so that's something. And she's teasing him about it, so at least she's not mad.

"Okay, so how's the program going? I think you've done a really good job, by the way," Clarke says, and Bellamy tries to follow her line of conversation, even though his face is still bright red and he's still dwelling on what a fuck up he is.

"Thanks," he swallows. "Yeah, it's been a tough road, but definitely worth it."

"I'm glad," Clarke smiles. There's a silence and Bellamy knows they're both thinking about their failed date.

"I was interested, for the record," he blurts out. "I just… I was nervous and I didn't know it was a date. But I was definitely interested."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean… I still am, if you know. You don't hate me too much to maybe go on a real date?" he suggests, because he figures he probably can't make it worse. And they're laughing together and she's gorgeous so it's worth a shot. Maybe they can talk about something other than brie cheese.

"A real date, huh?" Clarke quirks an eyebrow.

"Yeah, to a restaurant. Not a Chinese restaurant."

"Well…" she says slowly, making a show of thinking about her answer. "That sounds nice. So long as you don't wear sweatpants."

"Can I wear a baseball cap?"

"You can wear a baseball cap on our second date, but only if you're taking me to a baseball game."

"Deal."