Contrary to Popular Belief (I Don't Need Saving)

A/N- Thanks so much for reading! Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Saturday morning found Clarke asleep, stretched out on her bed with the covers aggressively kicked off and the ceiling fan on its maximum speed. The 8am sun streamed gently through her semi-closed curtains, lighting upon her navy sheets and giving them a kind of deep ocean feel. Within a few minutes the blonde sleepily opened her eyes before letting out an annoyed huff and throwing her arm across her face to shield her from the sun's intrusive rays.

Upon sitting up Clarke noticed the slight sheen of sweat on her body and frowned. It was the middle of June in Texas, and for some reason her roommate Octavia could not seem to grasp that their apartment was not intended to be a sauna. Every time Clarke kindly reminded her to please, please, please call an electrician to fix the air conditioning that she brokeduring her "Let's play sports inside" party last week, Octavia claimed that her older brother Bellamy would repair it the second he got home from the military any day now.

However "any day now" was more than a day ago (it was five) and quite frankly in Clarke's opinion, one day was as long as anyone needed to go without in order to be reminded of the joy cold air circulating through a living space brought. Ok but how funny was it to see Jasper get hit in the head with the soccer ball that ricocheted off the coffee table?

Clarke ran a casual hand through her messy waves and got up from the bed, stretching her arms over her head as she walked over to the window. As she stared out at downtown Austin she couldn't help but smile slightly as she took in her own independence. She had a great job at the nearby St. David's as a 3rd year oncology resident, she taught art classes at the city rec center twice a month, and lived in a building with her closest friends.

Turning away from the window, Clarke walked out of her room and down the hardwood hallway into the kitchen. It was her first weekend off in a month and she was determined to make the most of it, starting with coffee made in her new Keurig that O bought her last week. Speaking of Octavia, where was she?

"O? Ocataviaaa," sang Clarke as she meandered about the kitchen, digging for leftovers to heat up in the fridge. Hearing no response Clarke sighed, assuming her best friend was sleeping at the apartment of her boyfriend, Atom. Clarke frowned. She couldn't be positive because she had slept in an on-call room for the last two nights, but it seemed like O had been spending a lot of time at Atom's place lately. It wasn't that she felt the need to keep tabs on Octavia, the girl was an adult and could do whatever she pleased, it's just that Atom was…slimy. Yes, there we go-slimy was the word, thought Clarke to herself.

Any guy that pursues another girl while he already has a girlfriend was immediately in her bad book, but Octavia had been flattered by the attention like always and fell for the overall less-than Atom, and they got together as soon as Atom dumped his girlfriend. Also Atom had frosted tips in his hair. Clarke cringed internally, was this the 90s? Shaking her head at her roommates poor romantic sense, Clarke sauntered over to her speaker system on the counter and queued up her "When No One Else Is Home-aka Get Ready To Dance" playlist on Spotify. When the soft "oooohs" of Passion Pit's Lifted Up came out she was already swaying her arms above her head, only pausing to grab her coffee quickly.

"1985 was a good year, the sky broke apart and you appeared, dropped from the heavens, they call me a dreamer!" Clarke shouted at the empty apartment along with the song, jumping up and down as her oversized t-shirt that doubled as her pajamas rode up her thighs. This, this is what she missed doing! Her crazy schedule at the hospital often found her missing out on the little things in life in her rush to do it all. She spun around in a circle, noticing the blurred image of a person approaching and stopping nearby as she continued her revolutions. As the final chords rang out she stopped her air guitar and looked at the intruder, muttering a slightly nauseous hello and steading herself against the kitchen island.

Monty just grinned as he took in the short blonde with wild bedhead and no pants. "Having fun a good time on your day off?" Clarke kissed him on the cheek in response before downing the last dregs of her coffee. "For the first time in weeks I have no patients needing me, no Jaha bossing me around, and lastly but also most importantly," Clarke paused dramatically, "No Anya trying to sabotage my promising medical career." Monty rolled his eyes at his friend's antics but couldn't help but agree that Anya was a psycho bitch who took residency way, way too seriously.

"So what's your plan for today Griffin? Binge watching Netflix till 4, pre-gaming, and then hitting up Dropship till 2am? Because FYI Jasper and I are in." Monty chuckled at Clarke's wide eyed expression.

"Am I really that predictable?" Clarke grumbled looking down. "Damn, I gotta switch it up."

"Clarke believe me when I say that you being predictable for once is not something to be upset about."

She smirked, punching him lightly in the shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Y'all just be ready to go at 8, I want to stop and get some tacos from Torchy's before we get our groove on," she replied, pushing Monty out the door.

By 7:45 pm Clarke was putting on the last touches on her makeup and giving herself an once-over in the mirror. Her loose, cream-colored blouse was tucked into a tight leather skirt and paired with solid black 4 inch heels. A wolf-whistle behind her made her spin around. Octavia stood leaning against the doorframe smirking, green eyes glittering. "Damn babe, sixth street won't know what hit it." A prime example of why Clarke loved Octavia, she shamelessly inflated Clarke's ego. Clarke grinned and walked over to her friend, hugging her briefly and then turning back to her bathroom counter drawers to look for suitable earrings.

"Are you coming O? Cause we're leaving in 15." Clarke watched Octavia scurry into Clarke's closet and run out with a deep red jumper and a quick "Can I borrow this?" She was gone before she got a reply. Clarke shook her head, smiling. She teased her blonde hair with her hand quickly before grabbing a clutch and calling out to Octavia that she would be in Jasper and Monty's apartment on the floor below.

An hour and two tacos later, Clarke, Octavia, Monty, Jasper, Miller, and Jasper's new girlfriend Maya were all piled into Octavia's suburban, jamming out to Kendrick Lamar. Clarke closed her eyes bobbing to the beat, anticipating her own wild behavior to come later on that night. She had realized early on in her adolescence that while she may be straight-laced and studious in most aspects of her life, when she let loose, she really let loose. Tonight was just going to be one of those times.

As the car pulled up to the Dropship, they all hopped out and Octavia threw her keys to the valet, Sterling, giving him a flirtatious wink as a reward. "No scratches on it Big Boy," Octavia called out as they passed the flushing boy. Clarke just laughed at O's ceaseless flirting, looping her arm with Octavia's and dragged her into the club.

Clarke made a beeline for the bar as the others snagged a table. A bartender with light brown hair stood with his back to her as he poured a beer from the tap for another patron.

"Excuse me, I'm going to need a lot of tequila shots," Clarke said getting the guy's attention. The bartender turned around with an annoying grin, folding his lean arms across his black tshirt. "Well, well, Clarke Griffin. It's been a while. I was beginning to wonder if you kicked your alcohol habit, but based on your order I'm leaning towards no." Clarke groaned and rolled her eyes. Fucking Murphy, of course he was working on her day off, because the universe just loved her and wanted to do absolutely everything to make her happy.

"Oh shut up Murphy and get my shots."

"Demanding and hot, you know how I like my women Griffin." Murphy made no indication of further movement. Must I do everything myself? Clarke ignored his bewildered gaze as she stuck one leg on the bar stool and slid herself on to the counter, spun around on her butt, and then planted herself back on the ground behind the bar.

"Woah what do you think you're doing?" Murphy looked semi-pissed and tried to stop her from grabbing the whole bottle of tequila and a few shot glasses, but Clarke merely ducked under his hand, walking around the bar this time and offering a "You should work on your customer service" as parting.

Octavia cheered laughing as Clarke returned to them triumphantly and in no time the night was in full swing. Salt, shot, lime, repeat. When "Sexy Can I" started playing the girls squealed and ran on to the dance floor and the boys reluctantly followed.

Clarke knew eyes were on her as she slowly twisted her hips down to the floor. She knew she got a bit more confident when she was drunk, but her mimicking sliding down a pole? Maybe a bit too much for 11 o'clock. Nah her brain corrected her, she was hot. But still, save the good stuff for 1am she thought. And with that astounding display of rational thought she danced over to Octavia and began bumping her hips with the other girl, head thrown back and her hair cascading down in a wild mane.

"Hey Clarke," Octavia slurred out after her fourth shot of the night. "Bellamy is gonna be home tomorrow," she paused, staring off into space a bit, "tomorrow. Or today? What day is it?" breaking her blank stare by bursting out laughing, in turn causing Clarke to crack up too. "Yeah ok whataver Tavia, now listen to my British accent." Clarke straightened up in her chair and composed her face, doing her very best to look serious.

"I demand to see the Queen immediately, she has my flower pot," Clarke said in an awful British accent. She laughed as she saw Octavia fall out of her chair from laughing too much.

"You watch way too much Downton Abbey, babe." Octavia wheezed out.

"There is no such thing as too much Downton Abbey!" Clarke protested. "It is a silver screen masterpiece and will not be insulted in this way!" reverting back to the failure of an accent. The two girls laid their heads down on the table, still cracking up.

Clarke woke up far earlier than she had planned the next morning, due to the obscene amount of light streaming in from her open windows. Who the fuck didn't close those? Oh wait me. She groaned, rolling over in the bed and burying her face in her pillow, attempting to block out the sun. A loud thump, thump, thump, could be heard from down the hall, echoing in her hungover brain like a thousand reverberations. Screaming in frustration into her pillow, Clarke dragged her body out of bed, noticing once again how hot she was in the absence of a working air conditioning.

Eyes half closed, Clarke made her way down the hall and towards the living room where the noise was coming from. "Octavia if that's you having sex could you please keep it down, I'm really hungover. Also, side note, but if you don't get that air conditioning fixed soon I'm going to show you my krav maga skills I picked up."

Upon reaching the living room she stopped cold. There, in front of her, was a tall man with dark hair and broad shoulders in a white t-shirt and jeans, hammering a pin into the air conditioning unit in the wall. Still a bit half-drunk, Clarke reached for the lamp on the end-table next to her and held it out in-front of her like a weapon. "Who are you?" she yelled, impressed with her unwavering voice. Again, probably the alcohol, don't be too impressed with yourself.

The man turned towards her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Answer the question and I won't hurt you."

He scoffed. "Hurt me with what exactly? A lamp?"

"Well in the absence of a broken beer bottle or a bat, I had to make do."

His eyes glittered, a barest hint of amusement. "Now I shall ask again, who are you and what are you doing in my apartment?" Clarke sensed no danger from the man at this point, but that still didn't mean she was going to let randoms traipse around her apartment and do the occasional handy man work when she had no idea who they were. Ok fair, but it wouldn't be the first time.

"Bellamy Blake. Octavia's brother?" he continued, seeing no recognition in her eyes. "She told me she told you I was coming." He looked at her like she was slow.

"She did no such thing!" replied Clarke hotly.

"She also said that you would say that and to remind you of -and I quote-'right before her awful British accent'" Bellamy finished, sounding bored and slightly annoyed. Oh, yeah. "Oh. Well where is she?" asked Clarke lamely.

"At the gym. Why would you think she would be having sex?" Bellamy eyed her suspiciously. Oh shit. Clarke obviously didn't know Bellamy very well, at all actually, but she could immediately tell that the concept of Octavia engaging in such behaviors was not one that would sit well.

"No reason, just a joke" said Clarke, shrugging. Silence fell between them. "Uh what exactly are you doing?"

"Fixing the air conditioning as you so recently demanded, Princess."

"Princess?" Clarke was slightly affronted.

"Princesses make demands."

Clarke decided to let it slide. "Would you like some coffee or something?"

He shook his head, setting the hammer down on the floor. Mental note: if intruder has hammer, turn and go back into your room and get your gun dum-dum, not use decorative furniture as means of self-defense. "No thanks, I was actually going to sleep, my flight got in early this morning."

"Oh ok. Well, um Octavia's room is right down there," she said, pointing to the hallway from which she had come from. He mumbled a quick "thanks" and headed in that direction, leaving Clarke standing in the living room feeling awkward and slightly confused. Confused by what? Oh that fact that Octavia's brother was kind of rude yet also hot? Same, girl.

Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know if I should continue with this story or not. :) Also, just in case it wasn't clear, the italicized sentences are Clarke's thoughts.