It was nothing less than eerie, Clarke thought, as Bellamy drove down street after deserted street. Polis had never been a pretty place, not like the cities she'd seen in the old vids, with their magnificent architecture and their pristine parks. But it had been bustling and thriving, full of life. The grounders, mostly Trikru, had gone about their daily lives with gusto, as though the threat of war wasn't always on the horizon.

Even after ALIE had wreaked havoc on the grounder population, it seemed like they'd managed to recover at least some of their zest for life. Wares had begun to appear in the markets again, sellers feverishly hawking their goods. Even the Trikru taverns with their harsh wines had begun to fill up again.

But all that had been before they'd discovered that a second apocalypse was bearing relentlessly down on them. Those who were lucky had been saved, and most of the others, the unlucky remnants of a dying culture, had gone away to meet their fate in private.

So now Polis was a ghost town, dying in the light. Clarke thought idly about how much Lexa, who'd been so proud of her city, would have hated what it had become.

Clarke glanced over at Bellamy as he drove, his hands on the wheel competent and confident, and was filled with gratitude that he'd insisted on making this journey with her. After everything that had happened, after every wrong-headed thing that she'd done, she could hardly believe that he didn't hate her. That he wasn't even angry with her.

But that hadn't been the morning's biggest surprise. Clarke shivered quietly, almost disbelieving that it had really happened. All that time that she'd been so sure that Bellamy didn't want her in that way, in the same way that she'd wanted him, and then to have learned that he'd just been holding himself back.

Clarke closed her eyes, recalling the feeling that had swept over her when he'd suddenly embraced her, how her heart had begun to pound. She'd turned in his arms, and when he'd confessed that he thought it might be his last chance to hold her, to touch her, she could hardly breathe. And then they were kissing, and it was fiercer and more passionate than anything she could ever have imagined.

Aarrgh! She tried to force her mind away from the feeling of his soft lips and his hard body, but it was hellishly difficult with Bellamy sitting right there next to her, sending warm smiles her way every few minutes.

Clarke tried to distract herself with directions, since she knew the streets of Polis better than he did.

"Take a right here, Bellamy," she said, and when the truck turned the corner, that's when she saw it.

Or...that's when she saw her.

"Stop the truck!" Clarke said impulsively, and when Bellamy brought the vehicle to a screeching halt, she asked him to back up to the corner.

"What is it?" he asked, concern in his voice.

"There!" She pointed to a figure huddled under an overhang.

Bellamy shook his head. "It's a terrible situation, Clarke, but I don't know what we can do for all these people."

"Yes, I know. But everyone else seems to be inside somewhere. Don't you wonder why that's the only person we've seen sheltering in the street that way?"

When he shrugged, Clarke knew hadn't recognized the huddled figure.

"It's Echo, Bellamy. The grounders consider what she did dishonorable, and Roan told her she was no longer Azgeda. So I'm pretty sure she's a pariah. That's why she's out here alone. We have to do what we can to help her. Even if it's just a little."

Bellamy turned away, but not before Clarke noted his look of antipathy. She knew everything he was going to say before it came out of his mouth.

"Dammit, Clarke! Echo is the last person I'd want to help. She nearly killed Octavia, and she held a knife to your throat more than once. And then she cheated at the conclave, even though it was their own fucking rules." His litany of Echo's sins was swift and harsh.

Clarke knew that she could just get out of the truck. But she was tired of taking unilateral action, especially when it was Bellamy who disagreed with her. Much better, she thought, to try to make him see her point of view.

"I cheated at the conclave, too, Bellamy..."

"It's not the same thing at all, Clarke, and you know it. You weren't hiding in a window shooting arrows into people like some goddamn sniper."

"No," she agreed, "but I was still breaking the rules because I thought I was doing the right thing for my people. And so was Echo. And besides," she said, summoning up the courage for complete honesty, no matter how it might expose her own feelings, "she saved your life when you were both in the mountain. Your life. That's what's most important to me so that's what I'm going to choose to remember about her."

Bellamy's mouth opened, but he closed it again without uttering a word. Then he sighed, turning his head to gaze for a moment out the side window. "Okay," he said finally. "Let me get her," he added, when Clarke made to open her door. "It'll be faster."

Bellamy opened his own door, closing it swiftly behind him. The suit was bulky, inhibiting his freedom of movement, but he was agile and lithe, and he reached Echo quickly. Clarke recognized the look of fear when Echo saw the hazmat suit, no doubt terrifyingly reminiscent of the Mountain Men. And then the change in her expression the very instant she realized it was Bellamy.

Clarke had the door opened exactly one second before Bellamy arrived back at the truck, carrying Echo. He scooted in awkwardly, the Azgeda's long body making it difficult for him to close the door behind him. He was finally able to shift Echo across his lap until she rested in the small space available in the middle of the truck's bench seat.

Clarke could tell by her skin tone and labored breathing that Echo was already gravely ill. Which was not surprising, considering the grounders had far less natural immunity to the radiation than the Arkers. Echo's curiosity seemed to assert itself once she was in the truck, however, and she twisted her body around to see who it was that accompanied Bellamy Blake.

"Wanheda," she said, her voice thready and weak. "I might have known."

"What can we do to help you, Echo?" Clarke asked quietly, and she found herself pitying the proud Azgeda warrior who had come to this painful end.

"Water," she said immediately, and Clarke reached into the small storage space behind the seat, berating herself for being stupid. Of course it would be water that Echo needed. Even though the death wave had not yet reached them, their normal water supplies had already been severely compromised by the black rain.

The water appeared to revive Echo a bit, although it seemed to Clarke that she coughed most of it up.

"Why are you out here?" she asked them, but mostly, Clarke noticed, she'd addressed herself to Bellamy.

"There's somewhere we need to get to," he said. "In fact, we can't linger too long. But...we can take you somewhere else on our way. If that would...help."

But Echo shook her head. "One place is as good as another."

"How about some food?" Clarke asked, and Echo twisted in her direction. "We have a little we can spare."

"No, Wanheda. I could not eat."

Echo's gaze shifted back to Bellamy. "Are you going out of the city? Because if you are, you should stay away from the area around the heda's tower. There are gangs of roving warriors there, too sick and too stupid to understand that killing other people will not help them. They're probably too weak by now to attack this vehicle, but I barely got away from them last night."

Echo began to cough, her long speech depleting her energy and taxing her lungs.

But Bellamy nodded. "Thank you, Echo. We'll take another route."

"Let us at least give you a bottle of water to take with you, then," Clarke insisted, remembering at the last minute that she wasn't making unilateral decisions any longer. And that this was also Bellamy's water supply she was giving away. But when she hesitated for an instant, Bellamy caught her eye. Nodding. Agreeing. Yes, give her the water.

Echo also hesitated, as if she'd suddenly remembered that she was a member of the Azgeda royal guard and these Skaikru were her enemy. But then she shrugged and wrapped her hand around the container, nodding her thanks.

"You must get to wherever it is you are going," she said, "and I must meet my own fate as well."

It might have been the few sips of water, or the human contact, or perhaps it was just simple pride. Because when Echo shifted on the seat to move across Bellamy's body and out the door, it was clear to Clarke that she intended to do so under her own steam.

Halfway across Bellamy, as she more or less straddled his suit-clad body, Echo stopped for a moment to touch the clear panel on the front of his helmet.

"I'm sorry we could never really trust each other, Bellamy," she said candidly. "I have always...admired you."

A noise issued from Echo then, and Clarke thought maybe she'd meant it as a laugh, but it sounded far more like a self-deprecating wheeze.

"The truth is that I admired you and liked you much too much, Bellamy kom Skaikru. You are the only man who has ever made me want to be something other than what I was. Other than...who I was."

An intense fit of coughing interrupted her then and Echo had to fight for control.

"But it would never have made any difference, anyway, would it? Because your heart has always belonged to...someone else."

Echo turned to Clarke then, a sardonic little smile twisting against her sallow skin. "I believe you are misnamed, Clarke kom Skaikru. You are far too soft and weak to ever be Wanheda."

And with that, Echo was out the door and in a matter of seconds had disappeared down the street. Bellamy sat there as still as a stone, and then he began to mutter softly.

"Fuck," he said. "Fuck. I wanted to kill her more than once. Tried to more than once. What the hell does that make me?"

Without conscious thought, Clarke removed the glove from her left hand, then reached across the seat to Bellamy, quickly peeling off his right glove. She squeezed their hands together, rubbing her palms across his in lazy circles. The comfort and relief from this most basic physical contact was so profound that Clarke sighed quietly.

Bellamy turned toward her then, and even through the helmet she could see that his eyes were glassy, and that tears had formed in the corners. Clarke felt a sudden intense burst of affection for this man, this bundle of contradictions, this gentle warrior who had lodged himself so deeply within her heart.

XXXXXXXXXX

Following Echo's advice, Bellamy changed direction, moving through the city in a more roundabout fashion. Several times, they found the way impassably cluttered with debris and Bellamy had to back the truck up and search for another route, further delaying them.

The streets seemed mostly deserted, and they assumed that most of the grounders had returned to their homes, but there was always the chance that some would decide that they'd rather go out like a warrior and seek a confrontation. Certainly a vehicle that could only belong to Skaikru would make a perfect target. But whether through their avoidance tactics or sheer luck, Bellamy and Clarke managed to reach the outskirts of Polis without further incident, although it did take them longer than they'd planned and they were now decidedly behind schedule.

Shortly after they'd cleared the city, Clarke had used the walkie to give Kane an update on their progress. That had been only a few minutes earlier, so Clarke was startled when she heard a distinct squawk from the walkie that was still sitting in her lap.

"Did you hear that?" she asked Bellamy.

"What?" His eyes were focused on the road.

"I thought I heard..."

"Come in, come in, is anyone out there? This is Monty Green..."

Clarke grabbed up the walkie, disbelieving. "Monty, is that really you?"

"Clarke?"

"Yes! Where are you? Are you still in Arkadia?"

There was a long pause, and at first Clarke thought she'd lost contact, but then his voice came through again.

"There's...no one left in Arkadia, Clarke. They're all dead."

Bellamy grabbed the comm out of her hand.

"Monty? This is Bellamy. What about Jasper?"

"Jasper's gone, Bellamy."

Bellamy shoved the device back in her hands and she could see him trying to absorb this new blow. Clarke wasn't sure what to say to him. To either of them.

"I'm so sorry, Monty. Are you alone then?"

"Nope, I'm here, too," said a distinctly female voice.

Clarke felt tears spring to her eyes.

"Harper! Thank god! Are you both okay? Where the hell are you, anyway?"

Monty again. "Yeah, well that's just it. We aren't really sure. We're in the rover and we were headed for Polis but I think we must have gotten lost or something, so we stopped. Is that where you guys are answering from? Are you in Polis?"

Shit! Of course they'd been on their way to Polis. No one still left in Arkadia had any idea what had happened. About the conclave. Or the limited number of spaces in the bunker, all of them now reserved for other people. People who weren't Monty or Harper.

She turned to Bellamy, and saw that he had only one eye on the road, his head half-turned in her direction. And she knew they were both thinking the exact same thing.

She depressed the comm button on the walkie.

"We're not in Polis, Monty. We're on our way to the island to...help Raven. She's all alone there." She paused, looked to Bellamy for guidance, but his shrug was eloquent and his message clear. Tell them whatever you think best.

Clarke made a split-second decision. She closed her eyes, praying it was the right one.

"Don't go to Polis, Monty. Meet us at the island instead."

"What? Why?"

"There've been some...complications that you don't know about, and you...need to know."

Bellamy grabbed the walkie. "Turn on the GPS signal in the rover, Monty. We've got a locator and I'll be able to see where you are."

Clarke nodded. Good idea.

Bellamy flipped on the mobile locator and pretty soon they could see the steady ping that indicated the rover's position. He'd slowed the truck to a near standstill, and it was clear to Clarke that he was doing some quick calculations in his head.

"I'm going to give you some coordinates, Monty. Plug them into the rover and we'll meet you there in a couple of hours."

There was silence from the rover and then Monty's voice came again. "You're sure about this, guys." It was half a statement and half a question.

Clarke took back the walkie and tried to compose herself. "We're sure, Monty. This is the best way."

XXXXXXXXXX

In the two hours it took for the truck and the rover to converge on the spot a few miles south of the island, Clarke wondered over and over if they were doing the right thing. She tried to tell herself that they had no other choice, but that particular credo had lost its comfort factor long ago.

All she really knew was that she just couldn't have let them drive blindly into Polis to find nothing but deserted streets, dead bodies, and a locked door on the promised safe space.

At least she hadn't had to wonder long about Bellamy's opinion. "This is the only thing that makes sense," he'd offered, as soon as she was off the comm. "We'll figure out the rest later."

Clarke had been grateful that they were once again on the same page.

She'd offered to take a turn at the wheel, but Bellamy had shrugged and half-smiled, assuring her that driving was one of the few things about life on the ground that he truly enjoyed. So she settled back as comfortably as she could in the bulky suit and tried in vain to empty her mind of her worries. Clarke often wondered how other people achieved that blissful state because it never seemed to work for her.

She sighed heavily and Bellamy cocked his head in her direction.

"What now?" he asked.

"Just trying to not worry so much about everything." Clarke could here the disgruntlement in her voice.

But she didn't expect the full-bodied laugh that emanated from Bellamy.

"Hey!" she said, only half-pretending to be offended.

"Sorry," he said, with equal pretense. "But a carefree Clarke wouldn't be...well, she wouldn't be my Clarke."

And suddenly her heart felt considerably lighter.

They reached the rendezvous point before the others, and Clarke breathed a small sigh of relief when the rover finally pulled up next to them a few minutes later. She was surprised at how glad she was to see them, even though relations with both Monty and Harper had been more than a little strained since she'd had to leave them off that fucking list.

She wondered how they'd feel when they found there was a new list, and they hadn't made the cut on that one either.

Clarke was surprised to see that Monty and Harper were also wearing protective suits, and she wondered where they'd come from. At first she thought the suits had no helmets, which would have made them pretty useless, but then she saw them slip the helmets on before they exited the rover.

She loved to have hugged them both, but their protective gear made that impossible, so she contented herself with giving them her best smile.

"Where'd you get the suits, Monty?" Bellamy asked curiously after the round of greetings. "And why no helmets in the rover?"

"I made them out of stuff still left on the Ark. Sealed up the rover, too, so we don't need the helmets inside. I've got a meter in there, so I'm keeping track."

Monty wave his arm, indicating their suits. "You?"

Bellamy shrugged. "They were in the bunker so they're a little older than yours. The helmet's a pain in the ass, but the truck isn't that well sealed. Taking it off would be too dangerous."

Monty nodded. "Then why don't you leave the truck here and come the rest of the way with us. Plenty of room. I've even rigged up a small air scrubber, so the air inside the rover is in pretty good shape."

"No shit! Is there anything you can't do?" he asked with a smile.

"Yeah," Monty said, smirking. "Everything you can do."

When Bellamy laughed, Clarke could see how happy he was to see Monty again. And the truth was, the radiation levels in the truck had been rising, and she'd begun to wonder if the seals Wick had installed would last the day.

"I think we should go with them," she said suddenly. "I'd really like to take off this damned helmet."

"That would be great," Harper said. "Then Bellamy can drive and Monty can finally get some sleep."

While the others moved their small pile of supplies, including the extra oxygen tanks, into the rover, Clarke used the walkie to update Kane.

"We've picked up Monty and Harper," were the first words out of her mouth.

"What!" She could hear the elation in the chancellor's voice. And then the silence as realization hit him. "What did you tell them?"

"Nothing yet. We're only a few miles from the boat. Bellamy and I thought it would be easier if we explained it to all of them at once. And then we can try to figure out...something."

She heard Kane's sigh, and she knew exactly what he must be feeling. She was at a loss herself.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Sorry you have to deliver that kind of news to them. They all...mean a lot to me."

Clarke heard Kane clear his throat, and she had to work hard to swallow the lump in her own.

"I'll let Abby know you checked in," he said. "Call again when you get to the island. And, Clarke? Tell Monty and Harper that I'm...happy to hear they're okay."

"Will do," she said, turning off the walkie and climbing into the rover to begin the last leg of their journey.

XXXXXXXXXX

It had been a relief for them both to be able to remove their helmets, and to breathe circulating air again rather than oxygen from a tank. Despite the knowledge that they'd be delivering some bad news in short order, Clarke was happy to be with friends again, happy to have a few moments of light, meaningless conversation.

Although that conversation didn't last long. Monty and Harper must have both been exhausted because they fell asleep before the rover had been on the road ten minutes. Clarke smiled at Bellamy, happy to be able to do so without the barrier of the awkward helmet. Her heart gave a small leap at the beauty of his answering smile.

She longed for a moment when they could do more than just smile at each other.

The boat was exactly where Miller and Jackson had said they'd left it, and seemed to be in good working order. While Bellamy and Monty studied the controls and Harper slumped tiredly, Clarke grabbed her walkie and pressed a different button.

"We're here," she told Raven.

"i can't believe you actually made it. And what do you mean 'we'?"

"Well, um, Bellamy decided to come with me..."

"Hah!" Raven interrupted. "Big surprise."

"Yeah, well, and then we picked up Monty and Harper along way."

"No shit! I thought they'd decided to give up?"

"Changed their minds, I'm happy to say."

"Yeah, me, too."

When Clarke saw Bellamy approach, she signed off with Raven. "Everything okay?"

"I've...had an idea."

"Yeah?" Clarke prepared to listen carefully because Bellamy's ideas were usually good ones.

"Yeah. All day long I've been worrying about what would happen when we showed up back at the bunker with an extra person. And now...now we've got three extra people."

Clarke nodded. As always, they were in sync. Since morning, It had been like weight on her chest that she'd been desperately trying to ignore. And then that weight had tripled. But she hadn't been able to think of a way out.

"It was Monty's air scrubber that gave me the idea. Plus, he's got a lot of other equipment in the rover, stuff I guess he thought might be useful. And that lab you were in. If there's really a rocket, then there must be at least some space deep underground, so..."

He took a deep breath.

"I think we should try and ride out the radiation wave here. I mean, if you don't want to, I'll... take you back right now, but the idea of leaving the others just..."

Bellamy turned aside and Clarke could see that he was fighting to control his emotions.

She wasn't sure she was capable of speech, so she just nodded. "Yes. Yes."

Monty was surprised when Bellamy told him they should unload the air scrubber and the rest of the equipment he'd salvaged from the Ark, as well as every scrap of food and water. But as always, he trusted Bellamy.

It didn't take the four of them long to load up the boat, and then they were moving across the water to the island. Clarke remembered her first view of the place, how shocked she'd been by the pristine condition of the mid-21st century house and the state-of-the-art equipment that filled the lab.

And now that Bellamy had reminded her, she did recall seeing markings that indicated at least a half-dozen underground levels in that lab. She sidled up to Bellamy, practically quivering with excitement. "I definitely saw signs for underground levels in the lab. I remember now."

He nodded, smiling behind his helmet.

Clarke could feel her heart racing. Dammit! This might just work.

When the four of them alighted on the beach, they were shocked to be met by Raven, clad in what looked a whole lot more like a space suit than a hazmat suit.

Raven noted her surprise and shrugged. "I like repurposing," she said, 100% vintage Raven.

As she looked around at the five of them in their various hazmat getups - two black, fashioned out of scraps; two orange, more than a century old; one white, actually meant to be worn in space - Clarke suddenly felt a bubble of laughter burst out of her.

"What the hell? Clarke is laughing," Raven said, feigning shock.

"Well, look...look at us," Clarke's words came out in little puffs between her bouts of mirth. "Look...at...all...these...damn...suits."

And then she was off again, until finally they were all inspecting each other and the laughter became generalized. Clarke wasn't sure whether they were laughing with her or at her but it didn't really matter. It felt damn good to laugh.

It was when Raven saw the pile of gear that they'd unloaded from the boat that the laughter stopped and the questions began.

"We'll explain everything," Clarke said. "But first, is there anything in the house that's both useful and portable?"

Raven nodded.

"Good," Clarke said. "Let's get it all and bring it to the lab."

XXXXXXXXXX

In the end they'd hunkered down in the lab, creating a makeshift dinner from some of the last food stores in the house. It was a relief for Clarke to get out of the suit, and she was sure the others felt the same. So far, the air quality in the lab was still within acceptable limits, but she knew they'd need to move further underground almost immediately if they wanted to really be safe.

They'd been jubilant to discover a vacuum-sealed compartment in the house's basement that contained additional foodstuffs that had miraculously failed to deteriorate over the past century. Monty wondered aloud what kinds of preservatives mid-21st century science had been able to create to achieve such a result.

They moved it all to the lab, every box and crate.

After dinner, when Clarke opened her mouth to make her explanations, she found there was no need.

"We're not going anywhere, are we?" Raven said flatly, and neither Monty nor Harper looked surprised.

Clarke reluctantly shook her head and she and Bellamy launched into an explanation about the bunker, and the conclave. About Octavia and Roan. And...Luna.

"I think...she must have gone a little crazy at the end," Clarke said sadly, "after what I put her through right here."

"Well, whatever you did, it didn't seem to have affected her skill on the field," Bellamy reminded her. "Octavia only managed to defeat her by being clever. And by teaming up with Roan."

Bellamy squeezed Clarke's shoulder gently. "I know you feel guilty about Luna, Clarke, but her life didn't begin a couple of weeks ago in this lab. She was carrying a heavy load long before she ever heard of Skaikru. No matter what she said in the end."

"I can't believe they're both gone," Raven said. "They were here for days, and Roan was maybe...kind of a dick, but still. And...Luna," her voice softened. "She helped me so much when ALIE's code was fucking up my head."

There was a brief silence before Monty eyed Clarke and Bellamy, asking directly, "So does this mean you guys aren't going back either?"

Clarke shook her head. "No, I've already let them know that we'll get back when we can."

"And Abby's okay with that?" Raven asked. "Octavia?" she added turning to Bellamy.

He shrugged. "Octavia won't be happy, but she's safe and I think it's pretty clear that she can take care of herself."

"And mom has Kane, and I know that'll help."

"But you both could go back," Monty wanted to be clear. "You have places."

"Yeah, we have places," Clarke said, eyeing Bellamy, "but no, we couldn't."

Bellamy nodded. "We've already agreed we're staying."

The silence stretched out then until Raven jumped up abruptly, nearly tipping herself over. "Well, then, let's get to bunkering."

Raven had never been to the lab's lower levels, all of which could be reached by the elevator. As far as she knew the only thing on the lowest level was the very bottom of the rocket. But as it turned out, Raven was mistaken. There wasn't a lot of space, but there were a few small rooms, three of which even contained cots.

While Monty debated exactly how to set up the air-scrubber, and Bellamy stored the supplies, the women inspected the potential quarters.

"Hmmm," Raven frowned. "We seem to be one bedroom short."

Harper grinned. "You know, I wouldn't be too sure about that," she said, eyeing Clarke closely.

Clarke felt her face heat up. "Uh, I'm not sure what you mean."

But Raven laughed. "I'd say it's damn well about time."

Clarke couldn't figure out what had given them away. It was, after all, only one kiss, and it had happened hours ago. As she worked with Harper to set up a makeshift med bay in a room scarcely bigger than a closet, Harper smiled apologetically.

"Sorry to spill the beans," she said. "But lately, all I've seen is one horrible thing after another. So I was really happy to think that maybe you and Bellamy finally, you know, got together..."

Harper's voice trailed off as she squinted thoughtfully at Clarke.

"You are together, right? I mean, the way he looks at you, I was so sure..."

"I don't know," Clarke said uncertainly, feeling more than a little foolish. "It was just one kiss."

Harper shook her head, laughing softly. "Clarke, you must be the only person in the universe who can manage to save the world over and over, but can't figure out if she wants to be with someone."

"It's...not a matter of not wanting...it's just...we've never had time to talk about it."

Harper nodded sympathetically, then grinned when Bellamy suddenly appeared in the doorway. "No time like the present."

"How's the medbay setup coming?" he asked, nodding to Harper as she left the room.

"Fine," Clarke said, all ready to retreat back into those roles that were so easy and so comfortable. Friend. Partner. Co-leader.

If that was what he wanted.

But she'd been thinking about that kiss all day. In between the sadness, and the worry, and the life-and-death decisions, her mind had wandered back over and over again to those two minutes in the airlock anteroom.

And suddenly, she did want to know. She wanted to know desperately.

"Bellamy?"

"Yeah?"

"Um, there's a limited amount of space down here, and the thing is, it looks like we might have to share a bedroom."

He nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Unless...that's a problem for you."

There was a short silence before Bellamy said, "Is that a serious question?"

"I...I..."

"Clarke," he said softly, clasping her shoulders and smiling down at her, "you can have the room. Don't worry about me. I can sleep anywhere."

"No!" she said quickly. "That's not it! I wasn't sure if you wanted to...I mean, it was just this morning, and there was just that one...kiss..."

"You mean the kiss I haven't been able to get off my mind all day, even though people are dying all around us, and the world is about to come to an end? That kiss?"

Clarke could feel the smile blooming on her face. It seemed like they might be on the same page after all.

"So, where is this bedroom we're going to be sharing?" he asked softly, stroking his thumb across her cheek. "I'd like to check out the accommodations."

Clarke saw the challenge in his eyes and she'd never yet backed away from a challenge from Bellamy Blake.

"Right next door, as it happens," she said, taking his hand and pulling him out of the med bay and into a room not two feet away.

He closed the door behind them and said softly, "Did you want to ask me that question again, Clarke."

"We may have to share this room, Bell..."

But by then his lips were already on hers and she was pressed up against him so tightly she could hardly breathe. And she never wanted to be anywhere else.

"Is it bedtime yet?" she asked breathily, pulling him towards the narrow cot, still bare of sheets or blankets.

Bellamy groaned, dropping his head on her shoulder. "I never took you for a siren, Clarke Griffin. You already know we have a ton of things we need to do before we can even think about going to bed. Assuming everyone wants to wake up tomorrow."

"Hey, lovebirds!" Raven pounded on the door at just that moment. "Still too much to do. No time for nookie."

They both laughed when they heard Raven mutter darkly, "Shit! How the fuck long am I going to have to be stuck in this place with two sets of lovebirds?"

"So, Raven," Bellamy said casually, as they emerged from the room, "did I tell you that Kyle Wick sends his regards?"

"That asshole," she snapped immediately.

"Yeah? Well, that asshole is the reason we made it here," Clarke smirked.

"Oh. Well, I never said he wasn't a smart asshole," Raven conceded with a grin.

They all worked far into the night, setting up their bunker. The radiation wave was due sometime within the next twenty-four hours, but if everything worked right - the seal, the vents, the air-scrubbers - they'd only be aware of it from the telemetry that Raven had set up to let them know when the ground would be livable again.

By the time they'd done all they could, they were exhausted, and no siren's song could have persuaded any of them to indulge in anything other than sleep. Clarke tucked herself into Bellamy's side, grateful just to have him near.

XXXXXXXXXX

Clarke awoke to find Bellamy staring down at her, like he couldn't believe she was really there.

"Am I taking up too much space?" she asked, smiling.

"Never," he said, wrapping her in his arms.

Clarke shifted so that she could reach his mouth, kissing him softly. "Do you want to go back to sleep," she asked, twisting so that her body was flush against him.

"No," he groaned, running his hands beneath the back of her tattered shirt. "I've wanted this for so long, Clarke. But...if you want to wait..."

Clarke laughed. "You, know, Bellamy, when somebody wakes up and kisses you, that usually means they're interested in something other than sleep."

"Thank god," he said fervently, his hands skimming gently down her body. "We can take it slow."

"Maybe," Clarke said softly, shifting far enough away from him to remove her shirt and bra.

Bellamy gazed down at her body in wonder, quickly removing his own shirt. And then their hands reached out to slowly stroke, hardly daring to believe that this was really happening.

But all those weeks and months of longing, the firmly-suppressed yearning to touch and be touched, proved to be too much. Desire built rapidly, and soon they were kissing wildly, twisting against each other as though they could never get close enough.

And then he was inside her, and she couldn't believe how wonderful it felt. How right. How...inevitable. While her body thrummed with desire, her heart ached in a way that was wholly new and unexpected. And for the first time ever, Clarke knew that she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

Much later, as they lay naked and spent in each others' arms, Clarke looked up to find Bellamy gazing at her thoughtfully.

"What?" she asked, smiling contentedly.

He smiled softly, reaching down to kiss the top of her head. "I was just thinking about the first time I ever saw you."

"In the drop ship," she said, nodding. "You were opening the door."

"Yeah," he smiled, remembering. "You were all bossy and so sure about everything."

Clarke laughed. "And so wrong about so many things," she said. "Including you."

She reached over and kissed him softly, just as she had done hours earlier when she'd first woken up. "And look where we are now."

Bellamy drew her against him tightly. "I don't want it to end," he said fiercely. "I want to be able to feel like I feel right this moment for a long, long time."

"I know," she said, shifting her body so she could gaze down at him. "And we will. What did you say to me right after we found out about this? 'After everything we've been through, we aren't gonna let a little radiation defeat us.'"

Bellamy nodded. "I remember."

"So don't worry," she said, reaching up to brush a curl off his forehead. "We got this."