"Dude, you're a freaking weirdo. Banana and peanut butter, I get. But Mayonnaise? That's just gross, man."
"Uh, whatever, dude. Bananas and mayonnaise go together like grilled cheese and peanut butter."
"Grilled cheese and–that's it. I'm done. I don't think we can be friends anymore."
Bellamy watched in disbelief as his coworkers argued over sandwich combinations as the theme for today's business meeting. He was trying, he really was, but he hadn't realized the job title of 'business manager' was really just a fancy term for a babysitter.
"Hey, screw you man. Until you try it, there's no way–"
Bellamy slammed his hands together with a thunderous clap. "Enough!"
Jasper and Monty looked at him like he'd gone crazy. Hell, he probably had.
He exhaled and looked at the two men pleadingly. "Look, I know this job allows for a lot of free time, but is half an hour of work too much to ask for?"
Monty and Jasper furrowed their brows at each other before nodding in agreement.
"Alright fine, we'll get to work. But for only exactly thirty minutes," Monty said.
Bellamy shook his head and sighed. "I'll take what I can get."
He walked past his coworkers as they high-fived and made his way to the second floor's balcony for a smoke.
Clarke laid her head against the window, watching the rivulets of water struggle to find its path down the glass. A single drop defied the oppressive wind, snaking insistently downwards. She closed her eyes and focused on the steady staccato of rain, drowning out her mind.
The car jerked, causing her to steady herself against the soft, warm body next to her.
"Sorry, Wells. That was a big turn, huh?"
Her Samoyed gave a big, panting grin in response. She wrapped her arms around his belly and mouthed "I miss you" into his fur, snuggling deeper into the comforting heat of his body.
"Clarke, we're here."
The car pulled to a stop in front of a large, well-worn log cabin – a boarding home for delinquents, as Thelonious would say affectionately, though its official name was the Ark. The cabin sat in the middle of a spacious lot, front yard spattered with oak trees and a tall stone wall around its perimeter with a large, intricate black metal gate in the center. The cabin rose to two stories, a balcony wrapping around the second, with a bluish clay tile gabled roof. There was a dormer in the center of the roof displaying an old clock, though it's long since stopped telling the time.
"It's gotten better with age," Clarke said.
Thelonious' eyes crinkled as he smiled. Wells' would have done the same. "I'd like to think so. Now, let's get you introduced to the tenants."
He exited the vehicle and she did the same, pulling Wells and a single suitcase along with her. Side by side, Clarke and Thelonious pushed open the gate to the Ark. She unclasped Wells' leash and he took off like a bullet, likely excited by all the heavy smells of their close-quarters with nature.
"So, some things you'll want to know before you're officially the manager," Thelonious began as they made the trek up the stone steps to the entrance. "First, I just want to reiterate: it won't be an easy job. You'll be in charge of grown men and women living in close quarters. If they think you're a pushover, they'll make your job a living hell. The previous manager left – hightailed it out of here really – precisely for that reason."
She felt a nervous knot settle in her stomach. She hadn't even babysat before – was she really ready for such a responsibility? What if they saw her as weak, chewed her out immediately, and made her run for the hills?
"Secondly, I know you've had a tough six months; it's why I recommended this job. Living here...I really think it'll help. At the Ark, you'll always be busy. You'll have no time to dwell on the past. The residents will frustrate and annoy, yes – but more importantly, they'll keep you company."
She could certainly use company; she had never felt more alone than in these past six months. She would welcome frustration and annoyance – anything was better than emptiness.
"And lastly...well, welcome to the Ark, Clarke."
He gave her a warm smile and reassuring squeeze on her shoulders before leading her inside her new home.
Bellamy blew out a billowing cloud of smoke as he leaned against the balcony fence. A thick pine forest, a pearly blue lake, and a Marlboro red always calmed him down.
He checked his watch – it'd been fifteen minutes since he'd left Monty and Jasper, which meant they'd be getting into trouble soon.
"Jasper, stop! Give it back!" a woman's shrill voice erupted from the hallway.
And there it was. He took a few more moments to enjoy the pitter-patter of rain and fresh piney air before snubbing out the cigarette.
Clarke stood inside the entrance of the Ark, watching a blonde woman chase a brown-haired man up, then immediately down, a flight of stairs. He jumped the last two steps and zoomed past, laughing the whole way. She had to give it to him; the guy was agile.
His sock-covered feet slid to a stop on the polished wooden floor some distance away. He turned his head slowly, surprise etched in his face. The woman promptly caught up and tackled him to the floor.
"Hah! Got you, you slippery bastard. Now give me back my underwear!" she said as she straddled the man at his waist and held out her hand. He ignored her, instead pointing towards Clarke and Thelonious. She followed his hand and her grin quickly faded. "Oh, um...hi, Mr. Jaha. Didn't uh...didn't see you there."
Clarke let out a giggle at Thelonious' sternly set mouth paired with a single eyebrow raise.
"Clarke, this young lady is Harper, and the boy beneath her is Jasper," Thelonious said. "They live in room two-oh-two and one-oh-two, respectively. Harper and Jasper, this is Clarke, your new manager. Please, avoid tackling her if possible."
Clarke schooled her face in mock seriousness. "Nice to meet you two. It looks like we'll have a lot of fun together – though I'd personally prefer if my underwear stayed in their rightful place." She grinned at Jasper's now completely-red face and Harper's under-the-breath amen.
"Yo, what's with all the ruckus?" sounded a voice from the top of the stairs. "Actually, a better question: what's with the lack of ruckus?" Another man walked down the flight of stairs, this one of similar shape and size as Jasper, though his hair was jet-black and more straight than messy. He descended halfway down the stairs before going stock still. "Oh. That's why."
Thelonious hadn't missed a beat. "Clarke, meet Monty. He and Jasper are bound to cause you a lot of trouble." He looked pointedly at both Monty and Jasper. "He lives in room one-oh-one, next to Jasper. Keep an eye on these two."
Clarke smiled widely. Trouble was good. Trouble was distracting.
"Oi, Monty, get the fuck back up here! You promised me thirty minutes!" Bellamy shouted, heading towards the staircase. "You too Jasper, stop chasing tail and get your ass back on the computer."
He found a wide-eyed Monty in the middle of the stairs, gesturing to come down.
Bellamy reached Monty, turned, and froze; like out of a bad romantic movie, a beautiful woman had appeared out of nowhere. The curl of her pink lips, the bright emerald of her eyes, the blonde hair that fell over her shoulders, the way she looked at him like he was an absolute weirdo – shit. He picked up his jaw, slapped his brain into gear, and tried to salvage his reputation.
"Who's the princess?" asked the man standing before Monty, his leery gaze turning cocky.
Clarke rolled her eyes. Great, one of those men. Probably thinks he's being charming. She gave him a sickly sweet smile, channeling her annoyance at his admittedly handsome face. Sure, he had cute eyes – so dark she could get lost in them – and nice hair – wavy, messy charcoal that would definitely tangle if she ran her hands through them – but he was still a jerk.
Thelonious cleared his throat, displeasure clearly showing at the man's callous statement. "This is Clarke, your new manager. I expect her to be treated with the respect she deserves."
He looked to Monty and scoffed. "Who's the uptight old man?"
"Uh, that, Bellamy, is Mr. Jaha, the landlord of the Ark."
Bellamy's eyebrows rose as he realized his mistake. "Oh, uh, shit." He made his way down the stairs to shake Thelonious' hand. "Nice to meet you, sir. Sorry about, uh, calling you uptight."
Thelonious let out an accepting grunt in reply. "Yes, nice to meet you too, son."
Bellamy shifted his outstretched hand towards Clarke, which she shook with a slight hesitation. "Didn't expect the manager to be so...young."
She imagined him punctuating the statement with an eyebrow-waggle and snorted. "Not interested."
"Who said I was?"
She raised a skeptical eyebrow, holding in a snicker when he averted his gaze and blushed.
"Right, well, back to work, yeah? Jasper, get up from under Harper – and give her her panties back man – and get back upstairs. Monty, you too. Let's go boys, chop chop!" Bellamy marched back up the stairs, dragging away a waving Monty by the cuff of his shirt.
Harper stood up, still blushing, and Jasper scrambled to his feet. He muttered a "nice to meet you" as he ran for the stairs. He threw the lacy black panties over his shoulder, which Harper caught before running up the stairs as well, letting out a meek "nice to meet you, too" as she passed by.
Clarke shook her head in disbelief while Thelonious just shrugged, which both worried and excited her; just what exactly was in store for her at the Ark?
"Well then," he said, "let me show you your room." He led her through a door at the end of the hallway that had the word 'manager' on it in gold plating. The room inside was completely furnished, and tastefully at that.
"Your bedroom is behind that door there, next to the living room. There's also a door that leads to the porch, just between the bedroom wall and the kitchen." She followed his hands, noting the locations he'd pointed out. "I'll be back to check up on you in a couple days, make sure you're settling in okay."
He stuck out his hand, but she rounded him with her arms and gave him a tight hug. He grunted before returning the embrace just as firmly. "You'll fit right in, Clarke. You're just as mischievous, if not more."
She crossed her arms and smirked. "At least I'm not a panty thief."
That earned her a laugh. "I hope not. Don't let them corrupt you."
"Oh, stop. I'll be fine."
"I know. Take care, Clarke." He left with a small wave over his shoulder.
Clarke got to work unpacking her suitcase, the bedroom her first stop. As she put away her clothes into the generous walnut wardrobe and matching dresser, she came across a picture of her and her husband, Wells, smiling with Minnie Mouse at Disneyland. She placed the picture on the bedside table.
When she had finished unpacking, she headed out onto the porch. Wells bounded out from behind a tree, no doubt having marked his territory, and laid on the grass before the steps.
She sat with Wells, watching the sun dip below the horizon. She lifted a hand to scratch under his ear as the other rubbed his belly; that always made him happy. "You're gonna love all the new friends you'll make. There's Jasper, Harper, Monty, Bellamy, and even more we haven't met yet."
She grinned impishly. "Though you might not love Bellamy."
Bellamy leaned against the second floor balcony's fence, a lit cigarette held absently between his fingers. He made it a habit to always catch the sunset, as it was absurdly beautiful – except tonight, his attention was elsewhere.
Clarke sat on the steps of the porch, petting her big fluffy dog. He marveled at the way her blonde hair took on the deep orange of the sunset, the pale nape of her neck that begged to be kissed, the the strip of lower back that teased at more.
A distant voice in his mind reminded him of his decision to look for a new place to live – to leave the Casa de Crazy – but a different voice, a much more overpowering voice, begged him to stay. For her, which was so absurd that he couldn't help but silently scoff.
He heard his name, the dog bark, and Clarke giggle. The hell was that about? She got up and looked behind her – and right at him.
"Bellamy?"
He took a final drag of his cigarette – it reached the filter already? – before snubbing it out.
"Hey, princess."
She huffed, her face flushing. "My name's Clarke, not princess."
He rolled his eyes with an exaggerated flair. "Sure thing, princess."
Damn, that glare was scary – but amusing.
"Don't make me come up there and kick your ass." The fire in her eyes made him believe she'd do just that. He smirked as the threat played out in his head.
"While I'd love to see you try, I can't be up all night rough-housing."
Her face had the word 'seriously' written all over, clearly not impressed with his clever wordplay. And then an evil grin broke out as her eyes lit with mischief.
"All night?" She bit the corner of her lips and pinned him with a hooded gaze. "You wouldn't last ten minutes."
He paused for a few moments, rolling the words over in his mind. Now that was unexpected. He struggled for a retort, his brain barely functioning as it overloaded with entirely inappropriate images.
"Wouldn't you like to know!" he called after her lamely as she sauntered back inside the Ark.
A/N: Thanks for reading! This chapter was beta'd by HedaBeka, props to them for all the help. I wrote this half a year ago, I've got a couple chapters written and some more chapter ideas, but I stopped working on it and didn't want to post this until I had more chapters done. In the end, I caved, wanting the sweet sustenance of reviews to hopefully rev me up and get me writing.