"So whose idea was this?" Bellamy asked. He could feel the frown creasing his face.
"It was Raven's. And, honestly, Bell, I thought you'd be relieved. This way, everyone isn't making a big fuss over just you. You both have August birthdays, so you get to share the honors with Clarke."
The frown grew.
"Yeah? Well, as far as I'm concerned, O, it would be even better if we just skipped the whole thing altogether. I mean, you've never felt the need to throw me a party any other year."
"That's because you always refused! Insisted you were too busy." By now, Octavia's hands were clamped at her hips, her lips pursed in determination. "But your Masters program is done now, so that excuse is gone, and school won't start for another couple weeks. And besides, you can't say no because that means Clarke doesn't get a party either."
Bellamy sighed, glancing over at Lincoln for some hoped-for support. But the half-smile on his brother-in-law's face couldn't have been clearer. You might as well give in gracefully, it said, because this isn't going away.
He decided to take Lincoln's unspoken advice, mostly because he was tired of fighting with his sister over something so trivial.
"Okay, fine," he agreed reluctantly. "And...Clarke's okay with this?"
Octavia shrugged. "Why wouldn't she be? She's never been around on her birthday before, always off with her mom on some fancy end-of-summer trip. But this year she says she wants to do some work on her classroom before school starts so she's sticking around."
Having won the battle, she gave him a brilliant smile and a quick hug. "It'll be fun, Bell."
Octavia turned to leave then, but not before delivering her parting shot.
"Oh, and we're having the party here because you have the most space. But don't worry, you won't have to do a thing."
And before Bellamy could utter a single word, Octavia was out the door. Lincoln followed, tossing a sympathetic look and a farewell wave over his shoulder.
Leaving Bellamy feeling just a little numb.
Fuck! This was really happening. Not only had he just agreed to let his friends throw Clarke and him a joint birthday party, he was also going to be the de facto host.
Not that he really minded that part.
Six years of teaching - not to mention the bump he'd be getting this year because he'd completed his Masters - had brought him to a salary level that allowed him to finally buy a place of his own. The two-bedroom condo with the large kitchen/living room area was definitely more comfortable for group activities than any of his friends' apartments. Even Octavia and Lincoln lived in a postage-stamp-sized one-bedroom while they saved for a house.
Not that he'd planned on becoming party central when he bought the place. But it was nice not to have to worry about getting himself home after a few too many drinks. Besides, they all brought booze and food and a couple of them always stayed to help clean up afterwards.
So it definitely wasn't the hosting that he minded.
No, it was the idea of being the honored guest, the center of attention. Probably, it suddenly occurred to him with some degree of discomfort, the recipient of gifts. And while Octavia may have thought he'd find it easier if he shared the honors with Clarke, in that she was dead wrong.
If anything, it was going to make the whole thing a hundred times worse.
He knew his friends, knew how over-the-top they could be when they put their collective minds to it. He fully expected "Happy Birthday, Bellamy and Clarke" banners, and cake toppers, and for all he knew, specially-printed napkins! When Jasper got going on that shit, sometimes there was no stopping him.
He knew he was being a complete jackass to let it bother him, but the fact was that over the past year he'd developed such a painful crush on Clarke Griffin that just seeing their names linked like that would be nothing more than an excruciating reminder that they weren't together in any way. And that they never would be.
Bellamy wasn't sure how the hell it had happened. What was that quote from some classic romcom? Something about being in the middle of it before he even knew it had begun. That's exactly what had happened with Clarke.
For years, she'd been little more than Octavia's college roommate. He'd see her occasionally when they hung out as a group, but she was more a friendly acquaintance than a friend. He'd always liked her, but they'd both been way too busy to really get to know each other.
And then a year ago she'd finished her MA in Art Education and come to work at Ark City High School, where the art room was a mere two floors down and a half-dozen corridors from his own classroom. And they'd started to hang out a bit. At lunch, after school, until finally, without Bellamy ever really thinking about it, they'd slipped into such a close friendship that he could hardly remember what his life had been like before Clarke Griffin was in it.
Still he'd remained ignorant of just how into Clarke he really was until one early spring day when her car had been in the shop and she'd asked him for a ride home. He'd run down to her room at the end of the day to see if she was ready to leave, and found her with her head stuck in a supply closet, knee deep in classroom cleanup.
It was a moment he'd never forget.
"Hey, Clarke, you about ready to go?" he'd asked, a question so utterly prosaic that it gave him no warning that in the next moment his whole life would change.
Because when she turned toward him, covered, as usual, in her paint-stained smock, she gave him a smile of such sweetness that he almost staggered from the warmth and the weight of it.
"Yeah, thanks," she'd answered, exactly as though nothing profound had just occurred. As though Bellamy hadn't just taken one look at her bright, smiling, beautiful, paint-smeared face and suddenly known he was a goner. He remembered how, for just a second, he'd felt like he could hardly breathe.
And ever since that one stupid moment, Bellamy had been simultaneously trying to avoid Clarke... and aching to be near her as much as possible.
She had no idea, of course. To Clarke, he was still just Octavia's nerdy older brother, now a colleague and good friend. But nothing more.
Hell, just in the year they'd been teaching together, she'd gone through any number of significant others: Finn Collins, Lexa Woods, Niylah Merchant. He ticked them off now in his head.
She'd even had a two-date fling with some idiot named Riley, who's presence in her life was so fleeting that he was gone before Bellamy had ever figured out if Riley was his first name... or his last.
As for Bellamy himself, he'd gone out with more than his share of women that school year, but none of them had ever seemed to take. Two dates... perhaps three... and things just seemed to peter out.
Of course, after his revelation in the art room that day, it hadn't been too hard to figure out why.
Not that it mattered. Because even when he was single, while his friendship with Clarke Griffin had continued to grow and strengthen, she had never, even once, shown any interest in dating him.
It was perfectly clear to Bellamy Blake that as far as Clarke was concerned his ticket to the Friend Zone was stamped permanent.
Still, with this joint party looming on the horizon, Bellamy supposed that his one consolation was that Clarke had been single for a while - at least the entire summer, now that he came to think of it - and was unlikely to be bringing a date. So as long as he could suck it up with the jointly-named party crap, he might just be able to live through it all.
At least for now.
XXXXXXXXXX
He felt a little stupid that with all his worry about sharing a party with Clarke it wasn't until a week before the event that Bellamy suddenly remembered he needed to get her a birthday gift. And that he didn't have a hell of a lot of time left to choose one.
Art supplies were his first thought, but he wavered, unsure if bringing art supplies to the art teacher didn't smack just a little of carrying coals to Newcastle. In the end it didn't matter, because Raven sent out a group message that she and Roan had chipped in to get Clarke some fairly expensive paints that Raven knew she coveted.
We got her the artsy crap so the rest of you losers are gonna have to come up with something else.
...was Raven's exact message.
By the next day, with the party only six days away, Bellamy was getting a little desperate. She'd been over the night before to drink craft brews and watch Netflix with him while their coupled-up friends went on dates, and he'd spent the whole time trying to figure out the right gift.
(Which, he had to admit, was a lot better than having to be totally focused on keeping his unwelcome feelings hidden, which was his usual MO these days whenever he and Clarke were one-on-one.)
As she'd lounged next to him on the couch, the scent of her perfume had filled his head, but even as the thought struck him he discarded it. Perfume was just too... boyfriend-y.
Ditto the locket and every other piece of jewelry he'd found on his desperation trip to the mall that afternoon. Clothes were clearly out for the same reason.
For a hot second he'd thought a scarf might work, and even found a silk one he was certain was the exact color as Clarke's eyes. But at the last minute he'd rejected it. Nice as it was, a scarf just seemed so... impersonal.
Bellamy had nearly wept in frustration because he knew that impersonal was exactly what he should be going for. But somehow he just couldn't make himself settle for such a banal gift.
Surely, he'd told himself as he headed home empty-handed, there was gift out there whose message fell somewhere between Happy Birthday, Buddy and I'm head over heels in love with you.
But when the answer came to him, it was a moment of pure serendipity.
Home from his unsuccessful shopping trip, he flopped onto his couch in despair and felt a large lump pushing against his butt. Bellamy knew what it was before he even fished it out from between the cushions.
Clarke's watch. The one she treasured because it had been her father's. The band was so big and so clunky that no matter how she fastened it, it was forever falling off, and she lived in fear of losing it. It wasn't the first time she'd accidentally left it at his place and he knew she'd be worried about it.
As Bellamy reached for his phone to give her a call, he examined the watch more closely. What she really needed, it suddenly came to him, was a band wide enough to accommodate the very large watch face but still small enough to fit snugly around her slender wrist. Only then could she be certain of never losing it...
His head snapped up and his pulse began to race.
What she needed was a new watchband, and what he needed was the perfect birthday gift. Surely those two needs were in sync.
Bellamy grabbed his laptop. No point in running back to the mall. A metal watchband, wide enough to accommodate a man's watch and yet small enough to fit a slender woman's wrist, was bound to be a specialty item.
He started with the obvious places. Amazon. eBay. The giants. And at first it seemed like what he was looking for was not to be had. But Bellamy Blake was not one for giving up, especially when he'd finally come up with the perfect gift for the girl he was desperately, if secretly, in love with.
His dogged persistence paid off at last.
It was a tiny website. One of those places that never would have made it before the advent of the web. Extraordinarily Timeless, it was called, and unusual timepieces and accessories were its stock in trade.
Bellamy had already scrolled through several pages before he spotted it. He studied the picture carefully, his eyes moving back and forth between the watch in his hand and the image on the screen. Made of sturdy but stylish silver mesh, the band was definitely wide enough to fit the watch face, but since it was made for a woman, it was also small enough to be buckled tightly around Clarke's wrist.
He let out a loud triumphant whoop and was moving his hand to place the order when for the first time he noted the price.
Jesus fucking Christ! Were they kidding?
He knew it was silver, and a specialty item, but who the hell spent that much for a watchband?
Shit! What with his mortgage, condo fees, utilities, car payments, and student loans, his budget was pretty tight. Yeah, he supposed he could just put it on his one credit card, but he knew it would take him several months to pay it off and he'd promised himself he wouldn't do that. That he wouldn't let himself get mired in the kind of debt that had plagued his mother until the day she died. That he'd only buy what he could afford and pay off his credit card every month.
He groaned in frustration. Because how the hell could he not buy it? Bellamy knew damn well he'd never find another gift that perfect.
He was still wrestling with it, still trying to make a decision, when his eye fell on a piece of cardboard that was propped up between his desk and the wall. The cardboard was covered in plastic, and both cardboard and plastic were carefully wrapped around what Bellamy grandly referred to as "the find of the century."
He'd been backpacking in Greece one summer, living on a shoestring and enjoying every moment, when he found it in an obscure market stall that sold trinkets and cheap souvenirs to tourists. He hadn't known what it was at first, only that the black and white print looked vaguely familiar and that he liked the play of light and dark in the picture.
But among Bellamy's myriad jobs had been a stint in a rather musty used bookstore, so the moment he'd spotted the faint penciled number on the back corner, he'd been pretty damn sure what he had in his hand was a somewhat valuable limited edition print. It hadn't cost him much, so if he'd been wrong, it wouldn't have mattered.
But he hadn't been wrong.
One of his professors had not only confirmed its provenance but had actually offered to buy it from him at fair market value. But Bellamy had refused with a smile. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before and he liked to think of his find as a gift from the fates.
His friends teased him about his treasure all the time.
"You know, if it's that fucking valuable, Blake, why the hell haven't you framed it and given the damn thing some wall space in your cushy new digs?"
Murphy had asked the question only a few weeks ago, the last time they'd all come for game night.
"All in good time," he'd said, batting Murphy's hand away before he could pick it up.
Of course what he'd really meant was as soon as I can afford it.
But now? As much as he valued the print, the truth was he'd probably never want to spend the money to frame it right. Better that his miraculous find be put to another use. A better use.
Bellamy scrolled down his contacts, hoping the man wouldn't mind being disturbed on a Sunday. He wasn't.
"This is a surprise, Bellamy. Is everything going all right at the high school? If you're looking for a recommendation to a doctoral program, just say the word."
Bellamy laughed. "Not just yet, Professor Sinclair. I think I'll stick to teaching high school tor a while. It's just ...um... do you remember my limited edition print you liked? You once offered to buy it from me, and I wondered if you still.."
"Hell, yes!" Sinclair interrupted quickly. "Is it still in the original wrapping?"
"Only took it out that one time to show you..."
"Say no more. If you're serious, I'm happy to pay whatever the market says is fair."
"I am serious," Bellamy said quickly. "Is it... I was wondering if we could get this done today."
"Absolutely. Let me just take a quick look at its current value. I don't want to cheat you."
"I'm not worried. I'll text you my new address and you can let me know when you want to come by."
Within an hour, the print was gone from Bellamy's desk and he had a check in hand from his former professor that would more than cover the cost of Clarke's gift. The man had been so clearly excited that any small twinge of disappointment Bellamy felt at selling his treasure was offset by the knowledge that it would be valued and cared for. And, no doubt, appropriately framed and hung in a place of honor.
A short time later, the watchband had been ordered with a guaranteed mid-week delivery, and for the first time Bellamy actually began to feel excited about the birthday party. He'd always been more about giving than receiving, and this time he knew he'd chosen the perfect gift.
What with his distraction over gift-shopping, he suddenly realized he'd never let Clarke know he had her watch, but his phone rang before he could even complete the thought.
Bellamy smiled as he accepted the call.
"Hey, Clarke."
"Hey, yourself. Um...you didn't happen to find my watch, did you? I think it might have fallen off..."
"Oh, yeah, don't worry, I've got it. I, uh, just found it a couple minutes ago. I was just about to call you when the phone rang."
Clarke laughed. "ESP, I guess. So...um... would you maybe want to bring it by later? I'm making popovers. New recipe. Cheddar cheese and chives."
He couldn't help smiling into the phone. "Sounds good. Will there be bacon?"
"There will be if you bring it." He could hear the smile in her voice,
Bellamy felt his breath grow a little shallow. Two nights in a row one-on-one with Clarke. That had never happened before. But he didn't want to press his luck.
"You sure you aren't sick of me?"
"Nah. I'm used to you by now. And I figure you deserve a reward for finding my watch."
"Okay," he agreed happily. "See you later."
As he hung up the phone, Bellamy understood that along with Clarke's company he also had another night ahead of him of hiding his feelings. On the whole, he figured the trade-off would be worth it.
XXXXXXXXXX
True to their word, the following Saturday Octavia and Raven showed up a couple of hours before party time to "tidy up" his condo and make party food.
"What the fuck!" Raven complained as soon as she walked in the door, arms laden. "Why the hell are we here so early, Octavia? This place is cleaner right now than mine has ever been."
"Yeah," Octavia sighed. "Bellamy's usually pretty neat, but this does look extra clean. He probably didn't trust us to clean up to his standards."
Bellamy laughed as he grabbed a couple of bags from Raven and placed them on the counter. "Got that in one, O. But feel free to shine it up a bit more."
"Gonna shine up your ass, Bellamy, if you don't get the hell out of here," Raven said. "So scram. Uh...go to your room or something."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, more than happy to hide in his bedroom while they did all the work.
He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew there were great smells wafting from his kitchen. And though he hadn't heard the door, Jasper had apparently arrived and was complaining loudly.
"Is this all the tape you brought? It's never gonna be enough."
Bellamy turned over, moaning softly into his pillow. How the hell many things were being taped around his place? And more to the point, how long was it going to take him to get rid of the sticky residue?
When he finally emerged a short time later, showered and dressed, it was to find that his worst fears had been realized. There was indeed a huge banner stretched above the counter, but instead of the expected "Happy Birthday, Clarke and Bellamy," it instead proclaimed, "Happy Birthday, Bellarke."
Bellamy frowned in confusion. "What the hell is Bellarke?"
"Yeah," Raven smirked, while Octavia grinned. "What is that?"
"Uh, yeah, sorry." As he explained, Jasper's eyes drifted around the room, and he shuffled his feet like they were on fire. "I misjudged the length of the banner and, uh, the size of the font, so, um, they didn't have enough room for both your names. So I, uh, decided to combine them. This was the easiest way."
Bellamy stared at Jasper blankly, trying to prevent the flush that threatened to stain his cheeks.
Christ! It was bad enough sharing the party with Clarke without the damn name mashup.
"But it's only the banner," Jasper assured him, babbling on. "Everything else is either Bellamy or Clarke. Or, uh...both."
And there sure was plenty of it! Balloons and streamers, and yes, even specially-printed napkins. Bellamy imagined the cake would be equally adorned when it made its appearance later. His friends were nothing if not predictable.
"Whatever," he said mildly, shaking his head. Nothing he could do about any of it now.
People were starting to arrive and every time the doorbell rang, Bellamy tensed up, thinking it might be Clarke. He hadn't seen or even heard from her since their popover supper the previous weekend and he missed her.
He contemplated just how pathetic that made him.
When she finally did arrive, if Bellamy hadn't known better he'd have thought she'd dressed with the express purpose of making him nuts. In place of her usual jeans and t-shirt she wore a lace-covered sundress that was the same sky-blue as her eyes. As she stood in the doorway their eyes caught, and for a moment he couldn't seem to look away.
Then she laughed.
"Happy birthday, Bellamy," she said, giving him a quick hug.
"You, too."
The hug was over much too soon, but that was something else he couldn't do anything about.
Considering how much he'd dreaded the party, Bellamy ended up having a pretty good time. They played a few stupid games, and since it was a joint party, the rest of them insisted that he and Clarke had to partner up for every single one.
"Joint party rules," Raven declared.
"Pretty sure you just made that up," Clarke countered, smiling.
"What, you don't want to be my partner in, uh," he took a quick glance at the box, "Pictionary?" His question was accompanied by a sassy grin
"Yeah, I guess," she laughed. "But you're the one getting the good deal here. I am aces at Pictionary!"
"Yeah," he agreed, nodding, "I'm the one getting a good deal."
Even though the party was at his place, Bellamy was careful to limit his alcohol intake because he was pretty sure he was just one drunken declaration away from totally screwing up his relationship with Clarke. Besides, he was having a good time and he wanted to be able to remember it.
It was Jasper who finally called out "Presents!" after they'd eaten their way through Octavia's lasagna and the predicted "Bellamy and Clarke" cake, and had run out of steam on the games. Gift piles were produced and the two of them sat on the floor and rotated opening them.
When they were done, Bellamy hopped up quickly. "Just a sec, I'll be right back."
He ran to his room and grabbed the foil-covered box from his nightstand drawer with more excitement than he'd felt about anything in ages. He just knew she was going to love it. He dropped back onto the floor next to her and placed the box in her hand.
"Happy birthday, Clarke. Go ahead, open it," he added when she seemed to hesitate.
It almost looked like her hands were trembling but he knew that must have been his imagination. A projection of his own nerves, perhaps. His own excitement about the gift. But when she finally opened the box and saw what was inside, she turned toward him with a little gasp.
"It's for your watch," he said, smiling happily. "So you'll stop losing it everywhere. It's wide enough to fit the face but you can buckle it tight. I had to special-order it online."
She continued to stare at him, but now her face seemed to have lost a little of its color.
"Why don't we try it on," Bellamy suggested, eager to see how it looked.
"Um... I, uh, didn't wear my watch tonight. Uh, party dress. And I, uh, didn't want to lose it again."
Bellamy was flummoxed. He'd never even noticed, just assumed it was on her wrist, because she always wore the watch. Always. No matter what she was wearing. About the only time he'd seen it off her wrist was when she was a bridesmaid at Octavia's wedding, so...
"But I love it, Bellamy," she assured him quickly. "Really. I'll try it, uh, as soon as I get home."
Bellamy had the vaguest feeling that something was wrong, and he might have tried to pursue it if Clarke hadn't cleared her throat just then and declared that now he had to open her gift. She grabbed her purse from a chair and pulled out an envelope which she dropped into his lap with a huge smile.
"This is it? An envelope?" He couldn't help teasing her a bit.
"No, you idiot. It's what's inside the envelope."
It was the work of only a second to rip open the flap and pull out a folded piece of paper. But when Bellamy opened it his heart dropped into his stomach. Because he understood immediately.
"What the hell is it, Bell?" Octavia had always been impatient.
"It's a gift certificate from the Framing Stable," he said faintly.
When he named the amount, Octavia let out a whoop.
"I wish someone would give me a gift like that," she declared loudly, eyeing Lincoln. "We still haven't framed our wedding picture and I'm sick of it sitting on a shelf in the closet instead of being up on the wall."
But Bellamy heard his sister only faintly over the roaring in his head. And then Clarke was speaking, too. Explaining. Smiling happily.
"It's for your 'find of the century'. Now you can get it double-matted with a really nice frame and the right kind of protective glass. Just like you always said it needed."
It was exactly what he'd always said. And apparently Clarke had been listening. But it had always been too expensive for him, and he couldn't help wondering how the hell she'd afforded it. She didn't have student loans, that was true, because her mother had paid her tuition. But she had every other expense, same as him. And as a first year teacher, her salary was a lot smaller.
He might have ruminated on it further if Murphy hadn't spoken up just then.
"So where the hell is the great treasure, Blake?" Murphy asked, frowning. "I don't see it propped against the wall by your desk."
"Bell?" Octavia's brows drew together questioningly.
On the floor beside hm, the smile had dropped from Clarke's face, to be replaced by a look of confusion.
Bellamy didn't see how he could lie about it. If he said he'd moved it, they'd just ask him to produce it. And besides, he hated lying to his friends. To his sister. To Clarke.
"I sold it. Last week. You remember my grad school professor, Dr. Sinclair? He'd offered to buy it a few years ago and last week I decided to, uh, take him up on it."
There was a small gasp from beside him, while the rest of the room was suddenly silent. Tense. Full of unanswered questions that had nothing of the party mood about them.
"I'm tired," Raven declared suddenly. "I think it's time to wrap this party up."
Even Jasper didn't object, and within a very few minutes everything had been picked up, cleaned up, and put away. Even the decorations had been pulled down and whisked away.
They left then, the lot of them. Most with a faint wave and a tepid happy birthday, Octavia with a kiss on Bellamy's cheek.
"I'll call you tomorrow, Bell," she said quietly, before Lincoln whisked her out the door, too.
And then it was just the two of them, Bellamy and Clarke, still sitting in the floor surrounded by birthday gifts.
Clarke cleared her throat, and it was a rasping sound, like there was something there she couldn't quite get rid of.
"Why did you sell the print, Bellamy?" Clarke was nothing if not direct.
He sighed. "Pretty sure you've already figured out the answer to that one. The more important question is... where the hell is your watch?" Guilt was roiling in his stomach and the words emerged sharp and strident.
"Pretty sure I can do whatever I like with my belongings," she shot back, echoing his wording but not answering his question.
"Clarke, you didn't...you haven't...sold it, have you?" His fear invested the words with a harshness he hadn't intended.
She gave him a level stare and then finally looked away. "No, I only pawned it."
Bellamy felt cautious relief. Maybe all was not lost.
"Why would you do such a crazy thing?!" he asked. And somehow even though he felt no anger, only distress, he couldn't seem to soften his tone.
"Why would you sell your print? Your treasure? Your...find of the century?" Her tone was equally abrupt.
"It's not the same thing at all and you know it! That print was just a...a...thing. It wasn't a part of my life. Why would you do something so... insane?"
Clarke gasped, recoiling, then jumped up suddenly as her eyes filled with tears.
"You know what, Bellamy, sometimes you're just a stupid fucking asshole!"
"Clarke!"
But she'd grabbed her purse and was out the door before he could stop her. And Bellamy was left sitting on the floor with piles of birthday gifts flanking him on either side.
He'd never felt less like celebrating.
XXXXXXXXXX
Bellamy lay in bed later that night, searching desperately for a way to repair his shredded relationship with Clarke. He knew he'd acted stupidly, but it had all been so unexpected. One minute they were joking and laughing and enjoying their joint birthday bash, and the next they were both angry and upset, flinging accusations at each other.
Bellamy hated himself when he recalled how harshly he'd spoken to her.
But neither could he stand the idea that she'd parted - even temporarily - with something that meant as much to her as her father's watch. And what the hell for? Just so he could frame his idiotic picture?
Besides which, there was an urgency to the situation he wasn't sure Clarke completely understood. Bellamy had had to resort to the pawn shop a few times in his rough and tumble past and he knew very well that some of them were notorious for not exactly sticking to the letter of the law. The more valuable the item, the greater the chance they'd sell it before it could be redeemed.
Hs guilt over the whole thing was more than unsettling, and the need to fix things, and to do it now, was overwhelming.
But how?
He'd been tossing and turning for what felt like hours when the solution finally came to him, and when it did, he wondered how he could have been so slow. A sigh settled over him and within minutes he was asleep.
He'd set his alarm for nine and grabbed his phone at the first beep. Octavia would probably think it was still way too early for a Sunday morning call, but today she was just going to have to deal with it.
"Bellamy? You're up early for a Sunday. Everything okay? Did you and Clarke..."
"I don't really have time for a lot of chat today, O. I'm kind of in a hurry."
"Okay, well, what..."
"You know how you said you really wanted a gift certificate like the one I got so you could have your wedding picture framed?"
"Yeah, but..."
"Well, today your wish is gong to come true. Because you're gonna buy my gift certificate from me."
"What? Uh, why do you think we haven't had it framed already? Because we're tryna save like crazy and we just can't afford..."
"Yeah, I know. But the house fund is going to have to take a little hit."
"Bell..."
Bellamy sighed. "Look, Octavia, I need you to do this for me. This whole birthday thing was your idea, and that's how things got so weird in the first place, and... I need you to come through for me now."
He was starting to panic. It had all seemed so simple in the middle of the night.
Suddenly, Bellamy heard the murmur of two quiet voices, and then Lincoln came on the line.
"What do you need, Bellamy?"
"I need you guys to buy the gift certificate for the frame shop from me. I'm sorry to spring it on you like this, but..."
"Done. I've even got cash today if that works for you because I never got to the bank yesterday. Why don't you bring the thing by and we'll get you fixed up."
Bellamy swallowed heavily, sighing with relief.
"Lincoln. Thanks. I'll be over as soon as I get dressed."
"No worries. Now that she's actually getting it done Octavia's pretty excited about putting the wedding picture up on the wall."
Bellamy gave a wry little laugh. "I'm glad. See you soon."
When he got there a half hour later, making the exchange with Lincoln was far easier than fending off Octavia's inevitable questions.
"I can't really explain right now, O, but I will soon, I promise. But I owe you for helping me out like this."
Octavia hugged him tightly. "Glad to help, big brother," she muttered into his collar. "And I'm holding you to that explanation."
XXXXXXXXXX
Bellamy sat in his car outside Clarke's apartment for a good ten minutes while he tried to figure out the best way to approach her. He'd known that selling the gift certificate to Octavia and Lincoln was probably going to be the easy part and that selling the rest of his plan to Clarke might be a lot harder.
But just sitting there wasn't going to help anything either, so he opened the door at last and stepped out.
Maybe Clarke had noticed his car parked in front of her place, because when he knocked she seemed to open almost immediately. And she didn't really seem surprised to see him.
But neither did she give him a warm welcome.
"What are you doing here, Bellamy?" Her voice was cool and abrupt, her eyes not quite meeting his.
He held up the canvas bag that he'd filled with all the birthday gifts she'd left on his living room floor.
"You left so fast last night you forgot to take this stuff."
"Thanks," she said, grabbing the bag. "Was there anything else?"
Bellamy sighed. He wasn't surprised she was still pissed at him.
"Can I come in? I want to apologize."
"No need," she said, looking at him directly at last. "You were just being your usual know-it-all self. Making sure everyone does the right thing according to your standards."
"Clarke, can't we talk about this?"
She held his eyes for a moment, then finally stepped aside so he could enter.
"Look, I know you're pissed at me," he said as soon as she'd closed the door behind him.
"Why is it you think you get to do whatever the hell you want with your stuff, but somehow I can't?"
"Clarke, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. And of course you can do whatever you want. Live your own life. I'd never try to tell you what to do."
Clarke rolled her eyes.
"Okay, I guess that's fair. I was just... scared for you."
"Scared? Because I needed a little cash? You sold your print and I... pawned my watch."
"Yeah, but the big difference is that while I loved it, it won't be a big deal if I never see that print again. But I know damn well you'd be heartbroken if you never got your watch back. And I'd feel so fucking guilty if I was the cause."
Clarke frowned. "Of course I'm going to get it back. In three weeks when I get my first paycheck. The guy said I had at least that much time."
"Clarke..."
Bellamy's ran his hands through his hair in frustration, before finally reaching out to grasp her forearms.
"Did I ever tell you about my mother's ring?"
Her brow wrinkled. "I don't think so. What does it have to do with anything?"
"After my mother died, it was touch and go for a while. I was in college, Octavia in high school, and even with all my jobs and financial aid, things were tight. One month, I couldn't make the rent, so I...pawned my mother's ring. The only thing of value she'd left us. Left Octavia. Just til I started getting paid on this new job I'd gotten. Just a couple weeks, I told myself."
The lump in Bellamy's throat grew, as it always did when he remembered the next part, but he forced himself to finish his story.
"Two weeks later, when I went to redeem it, it had been sold. The guy just shrugged and told me he couldn't turn down such a good profit. It was illegal, and he was a prick, but there was still fuck all I could do about it. The ring was gone."
He swallowed hard.
"So last night when you told me you pawned your dad's watch..."
Clarke looked stricken.
"Bellamy, I'm so sorry. Your mother's ring..."
"There's nothing I can do to change that outcome, Clarke. I've... accepted it. But we can still make sure you get your dad's watch back."
"But even if you're right, how are we going to do that?"
Bellamy was relieved that at last she was taking his concern seriously.
"Do you have the pawn ticket?"
She nodded. "In my room." She hurried off and was back with it in a few seconds.
"Now what?"
This was going to be the hard part, he knew. If she didn't accept what he'd done, if it screwed up their relationship forever, he was just going to have to live with it. But he'd seen the amount she owed on the ticket and he could definitely get the damn watch back. And also sleep at night.
Bellamy took a deep breath and plunged in.
"I sold the gift certificate to Octavia. To frame her wedding picture. Lincoln gave me cash for it."
"You...sold..." Clarke looked more bewildered than angry.
"Yeah. I have enough cash on me to redeem the watch. So if you used the shop on Main Street, they're open today. I checked. I think we should go right now."
"But..."
"Please, Clarke." Bellamy tried his best to remain calm, even though he was worried sick. " I know it's your watch and your decision, but I don't want you lose it."
Clarke searched his face, and whatever she saw there must have convinced her.
"Okay," she said, capitulating suddenly, grabbing her purse and the pawn ticket. "Let's go."
When they arrived at the shop, Bellamy was relieved to see that the watch was still there, prominently displayed in the large front window.
The proprietor frowned at Clarke as soon as they entered. "Thought you weren't comin' back til next month?"
"Yeah, well, things changed. I, uh, got a little help from a friend," she said, slapping down the ticket.
"It's a little extra to redeem," the owner reminded her gruffly, clearly miffed at losing a potentially profitable item.
"Right here." Bellamy already had the cash in his hand.
With a sigh, the man moved to the front window to retrieve the watch.
"And I'd like a receipt," Clarke said, as Bellamy handed over the cash a moment later. "All nice and official."
Bellamy barely held in a laugh at the sour expression on the man's face as he hunted up a receipt book. And when she cheekily added, "Nice doing business with you," a moment later, he knew Clarke was pretty much back to herself.
She said little on the return trip to her apartment, instead just staring down at the watch cradled in her hands. She turned to him quickly, though, as soon as he stopped the car.
"Is my... new watchband in that bag you brought? I mean, are you still... are you still giving it to me?"
Bellamy was startled. "Of course."
Her smile was almost shy. "Then do you want to come in and attach it for me? Make sure it fits?"
Bellamy exhaled slowly, happy that at least she was no longer angry.
"Sure."
His smile was tentative, but there was nothing halfway about the beaming one she gave him in return. It was the first time she'd really smiled at him since he'd opened the gift certificate the night before. As they made their way into Clarke's apartment, relief washed over him in waves.
They stood in her living room, and it was the work of only a few minutes to affix the new band to the watch face. As Bellamy had hoped, it fit perfectly. When he buckled it securely onto her wrist, she gave it a quick happy glance before turning to Bellamy with a look of pure affection.
He thought his heart might burst.
"You know, this is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me."
Bellamy felt his face heat with pleasure.
"Uh, I'm not sure..."
"Stop. You can't disagree." Her fond look grew. "It's my gift and I say it's the best one ever."
He grinned. "I'm just happy and relieved we got the damn watch back. Although I'll never understand why you did it in the first place."
Clarke sighed and he saw the slight flush in her cheeks.
"You're always so great to me, Bellamy, and I just...I wanted you to have your heart's desire."
He took a surprised breath, and then the words just spilled out of his mouth.
"That wasn't my heart's desire. Not even close."
"No?" Clarke's voice was tentative. "Then... what is?"
Bellamy's lips quirked up in a wry smile. Pointless to try to to hide it anymore. She must have figured it out by now.
"Pretty sure you can guess."
He picked up the wrist with the watch attached and brought her hand to his face, laying a soft kiss on her palm.
"It's... more like that," he said, his voice soft.
"Oh, god," she said, her breathing shallow. "I was hoping. I was hoping really hard."
Then she was kissing him, and there was nothing tentative about it at all. Her arms wound around his neck and her body pressed tightly against him. It took Bellamy only an instant to gather his wits, and then he was deepening the kiss, enfolding her firmly in his arms.
"I'm so completely crazy about you," he said, as soon as he managed to tear himself away from that kiss. Because he had to tell her. She had to know right then exactly how he felt about her. "I've been going nuts for months."
"Why didn't you say something? What was holding you back?" The smile that accompanied her questions was bright and happy.
He shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't want to ruin our friendship. I thought... you'd never like me like that."
Clarke groaned, but the expression in her eyes was fond.
"I think I told you last night that you were a stupid asshole."
His mouth quirked. "I believe your exact words were...stupid fucking asshole."
"Okay, well you're not an asshole. I was just... really furious."
"Yeah, I got that. What about the rest?"
"I'm not so sure. Because if you couldn't tell I've been wanting you to ask me out for months, then maybe you're a little stupid after all."
"Yeah? And what about the fucking part?" The question came out low and gravelly, and was accompanied by the soft brush of his lips across her mouth.
"I think that part is negotiable," she murmured, returning the kiss and wrapping herself around him all over again.
XXXXXXXXXX
Much, much later, when he awakened in Clarke's bed after a brief nap, Bellamy thought that he'd never before spent so many hours in such utter bliss. Or been quite this happy.
Or anything even close.
Clarke must have heard him stir because she shifted around to face him.
"You're awake."
"Yeah. Sorry I dropped off. I didn't get much sleep last night."
"No, me either. But I've been lying here thinking about everything that happened and I just realized something. You never got a birthday present."
"Clarke..."
"No, wait! Just hear me out. I got my new watchband, but you had to sell your gift to redeem my watch. It just... it doesn't seem fair."
Bellamy gazed down at her body sprawled next to him, from the blonde halo of hair fanned out across the pillow, then down along her generous curves. He thought about her warmth and her intelligence, her caring heart. About how ready she always was to put everyone else's needs ahead of her own.
Especially, apparently, his, since she chanced losing her most cherished possession just to give him a stupid gift.
"Come here," he said, tugging at her, pulling her tightly against him. "Don't you get that this has been the best day of my life?"
Bellamy angled his head so that he could bend down and kiss her softly.
"You're my gift, Clarke. Being with you is the best gift I've ever had, and it's the only thing I really wanted. This...right here...us."
She wound her arms around him and they lay there contented for a few moments. When Bellamy heard the soft sounds, at first he was afraid she might be crying. But then her body began to shake, and pretty soon she'd pulled away from him, unable to contain her laughter.
He grinned at her.
"What's so damn funny? You were pretty happy earlier, but there was nothing you seemed to want to laugh about. Or," he stroked his hand across her lush breasts, "do I need to remind you?"
"You can remind me in a minute, but I'm laughing because I think we're gonna get all kinds of shit from everyone, especially Raven and Octavia."
"Yeah? What about?"
"About this," she said, waggling her fingers between them. "About us. It never once occurred to you that maybe this joint birthday party wasn't...I don't know...some kind of elaborate setup to force our hand?"
Bellamy blinked in surprise. "You think?"
She shrugged. "I actually started to wonder when I saw that Bellarke banner thing."
"Jasper said he ran out of room for our names."
"Yeah, no. I think maybe he just overdid it with the, uh, hinting."
Bellamy wavered between amazement and amusement that his friends might actually concoct such a convoluted scheme.
"Huh! So, okay, suppose you're right. What should we do about it?"
"I'm not sure. What do you think? Date in secret? Let them think their plan failed? Or...uh... maybe plot an elaborate revenge?" Clarke's smile grew with each new suggestion.
Bellamy laughed and leaned down to kiss the top of her head.
"Nah. I was thinking more along the lines of...send them a thank-you note."