Two by Two

Set after S01E08 - Day Trip

Raven has restored communication with the Ark. Finn is healing, Bellamy and Clark have made the trip to the FEMA bunker in Washington DC. Assessing the situation on the ground and in space, Jaha and the council decide to remain in space until Spring (necessitating the culling of hundreds more people) and order The 100 to pair up and start repopulating the Earth.


Chapter 4

Clarke exited the drop ship looking more than a little dazed and flushed. She couldn't shake the feeling that their little ruse had changed her, had changed whatever relationship she and Bellamy had, and therefore had changed things for the camp. But outside, dozens of teens laughed and talked around the campfire like any other night since they'd been on the ground.

"Clarke," Bellamy said roughly, drawing her gaze as he exited the drop ship after her, his cheeks flushed, but otherwise looking pretty much like he always did.

She lifted her chin and looked at him, noting that he wasn't meeting her eyes, his gaze focused on his feet, his hands flexing restlessly. She couldn't help the burst of heat that started in her belly and could only hope that she wasn't blushing.

"It's OK, Bellamy," she said steadily.

He glanced up at her, disbelief etched on his face. "Is it?"

She swallowed hard, but tried to feign nonchalance. "Of course, it's what we agreed to."

He nodded then looked to the side, his eyes automatically looking for and finding the guards on their elevated platforms. "If you're sure. 'Cause we could talk about it. If you wanted." His gaze suddenly swept back to hers, startling her with the intensity she found there. "Come to my tent if you want to."

"To talk," she said, but it sounded like a question, especially since it was accompanied by a quizzical expression. He shrugged one shoulder and Clarke forced a smile. "OK."

Her answer was as ambiguous as his offer, but they left it unsaid between them, neither ready to tip the scales that far. Clarke watched as he walked away from her, lifting his head and straightening his back and shoulders, throwing off whatever tension had resulted from the unintended intimacy they'd just created between themselves and putting on a show for the camp: Bellamy Blake their strong, confident leader who was plotting their course to freedom despite all the challenges that threatened them. Arrogant, tough, unflinching, and nearly unfeeling.

That was what many in camp still thought about him. It was what Clarke had once thought. If she still thought him so cold, heartless and power hungry it would be easier to shrug off what had just happened, but she knew better now. She watched as he approached Miller, the two boys shaking hands, smoothing over any tension between them.

Smiling, Miller moved with Bellamy over to a group of off duty guards, who were shaping knives and spearheads from various bits of metal, glass and rock. Bellamy picked up one knife, tossing it up lightly before catching it again by the blade, testing its weight and balance. He nodded in approval, causing Dell to flush with pride. Bellamy nodded for Drew to step aside and tossed the knife with surprising accuracy into a target they'd pinned to the fence.

Clarke's gaze focused on his hands, strong and deadly, but he was obviously capable of being gentle too.

He'd easily lifted her up onto the table, his grip on her hips firm, his muscled thighs pressing her legs apart. She hadn't been acting when she'd wrapped her legs around his waist, their mouths melded together. He'd kissed her before, but then she'd been reeling from the threat to Bellamy's life and unable to forget their audience. She'd retained only broken impressions. His taste, how his lips managed to be both firm and soft, the heat of his hand on her neck, now easily she'd responded to his seeking tongue. The ark of electricity that ran down her spine.

This time had been different. They'd been alone. And it had been planned. A show for the Ark. That was how it started, but Clarke knew it wasn't how it ended.

She'd known she was losing the thread of the performance as soon as he'd kissed her, and she couldn't blame him for it. She had been the one who'd slipped her hands under Bellamy's shirt, finding firmly muscled flesh. It had been her who had pressed against him, rubbing her chest against his, tightening her legs around him, as if she was trying to merge their bodies into one.

He'd responded, his hands tightening on her hips, pulling her impossibly closer, grinding his pelvis against hers, erasing any doubt that she had the he might be unaffected. Clarke's hands had run up and down his back, appreciating the broadness of his shoulders and the solid muscle that had helped make him the dominant male in camp. He'd reciprocated, his hands slipping under her shirt, kneading her back before moving around to the front, shifting upwards so he was cupping her breasts.

The heat of his hands, the feel of his calloused fingers on her sensitive skin had jolted her, sending a shock through her system, jump starting her brain. She'd pulled her mouth from his with a gasp, even as she arched into his touch, her nipples pebbling under his deft fingers.

Gasping for air, her eyes had met his, read the question there. Did she want him to stop? She could have said yes. She probably should have said yes. They could have slipped away, supposedly to his tent, but really separately, leaving her to perform the final act alone. That had been the plan.

If she'd seen arrogance or smug pride in his eyes, she might have stuck with the plan, but once again vulnerable Bellamy was on display, and Clarke already knew she had a weakness for him when he showed any real emotion besides anger.

As a rule, Clarke tried not to act on impulse. Impulse had led to Charlotte's death. Impulse had led to her taking her flirtation with Finn farther than it should have gone.

But she hadn't hesitated, smiling softly at Bellamy, she'd cupped his face in her hands, feeling the smoothness of his cheeks in juxtaposition to the roughness of his jaw.

Clarke had been the one who pressed her lips to his again, opening her mouth to him as she hitched her legs tighter around his waist. Maybe he was the one who had started stripping off clothing, his shirt and then hers, followed by her bra, leaving them skin to skin, but Clarke didn't blame him. Nor did she regret it. Maybe she would, maybe facing him in the cold light of day she would burn with regret, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but as she stood in the heat of the campfire, lost in her own thoughts, she couldn't regret it.

She hadn't stopped him, hadn't wanted to, not even when his hands had tugged at the button on her pants, his calloused hand drawing a startled gasp from her as he'd touched her intimately.

Clarke was drawn from her thoughts, feeling someone watching her. She turned her head to see that the crowd had thinned substantially, letting her see Bellamy clearly as he walked towards his tent, his gaze locked on her.

-The 100-

The next morning, Clarke approached Bellamy first thing, forcing herself to act normally, inquiring about the hunting trip scheduled for that day. She wanted to go out to gather some more edible plants, but only if a few guards who she trusted could accompany her, Monty, Octavia and a few others who had shown the skill of identifying beneficial plants.

"Can I take Miller?"

"Miller has to stay in camp. You can have Liza," he countered, not looking the least bit uncomfortable talking to her. Though she supposed he had a lot more experience with one night stand type situations. Not that they'd had sex, just gotten close. It was a distinction that Clarke was trying to convince herself was important.

"No thanks. Liza looks at me like she'd like to strangle me. Slowly."

He frowned. "Derek and Drew."

Clarke sighed. "They don't listen. Not just not to me, not to anyone."

"They listen to me."

"Because you might punch them if they don't. I don't really have that brand of persuasion," she said while smiling. "Give me Harper-"

"No."

"Why?" she asked tiredly. She hadn't slept well, unable to let go of the tension that had filled her from the moment she heard the Ark's orders that they procreate, exacerbated by her anxiety that the previous night might have made things between her and Bellamy difficult.

"One, because she's a good tracker and hunter, and two, because she sucks at hand to hand," he stated flatly. "Jones and Drew, that's my final offer."

"I accept."

Bellamy nodded and walked away from her, making it only a few steps before she started after him. "Bellamy." He stopped, turning his head to watch her approach, his back straight, his expression impassive. "You'll be back by nightfall?"

"Depends on how far we have to go to catch something," he dismissed her concern with practicality.

"Don't... don't go too far. You're needed here."

His eyes blazed to life and he stepped closer to her, crowding her personal space. "You sound like you mean that."

"I do," Clarke said clearly, standing her ground. She was used to standing firm in the face of Bellamy's aggression, but she wasn't used to the hum of electricity between them, the pulse of her reaction to him warming her body in ways she didn't want to broadcast to him or the camp.

He dipped his head so his mouth was mere inches from hers when he spoke. "I'll be back, Princess. This camp is my home, and I don't walk away from the things that are mine."

A jolt of sensation skittered down her back, raising goosebumps all over her body. His dark eyes bored into hers and the rest of camp, bustling with morning duties, fell away, leaving just the two of them. The sound of Raven's strident voice chastising some poor teen who'd touched her tools and earned her ire broke the spell.

"I'll see you tonight, Clarke."

She blinked stupidly at him. "Tonight."

-The 100-

True to his word, Bellamy returned that night, but Clarke wasn't waiting for him, open armed or otherwise. Instead she was busy at work aligning a badly broken leg and attempting The 100's first cast with sticks, birch bark and sap. He checked in on her, offered his moral support and returned to the campfire for a late dinner with the rest of the hunting party.

The next morning, Clark awoke feeling exhausted both mentally and physically. While the previous day, she'd wanted to approach Bellamy first thing and make sure that there wasn't an opportunity for tension to build a wall between them, now Clark was of the opposite mind. She wanted to put some space between them and let her emotions settle.

Addressing the elephant in the room had been the right thing for the camp, but giving herself some space to breathe was what she needed for herself. She told herself it was because getting involved with Bellamy in a romantic or sexual relationship would jeopardize their working relationship, and pretended not to notice the ache in her chest that had started when she'd seen him at the campfire the previous night surrounded by three clearly eager girls.

Not that she blamed them, Bellamy was attractive, clearly the alpha male in their camp, strong and sexy. All of which had factored into her indecision on whether to go to his tent the night he'd asked her or not. Clarke's natural reserve and continued confusion over what Bellamy wanted from her and what he was offering, and even what she wanted and what she had to offer had stopped her. She'd second guessed her decision, but now she was fairly certain she'd made the right choice.

-The 100-

The next morning dawned a new day, and determined to avoid any personal interactions with Bellamy, Clarke busied herself with her patient, a boy named Justin Giles until it was almost time for the hunting party to leave.

Exiting the drop ship Clarke saw Miller gathering the hunters, checking their supplies, when Bellamy strode up to the group a backpack over his shoulder and his usual weapons with him.

"Miller, change of plans, I'm taking lead, you need to stay in camp," Bellamy declared.

Miller hesitated, his confused gaze going from Bellamy to Clarke with dawning understanding. "Yeah, alright."

Clarke hurried towards them, a frown marring her pretty face. "Bellamy I thought you were going to oversee the building today?" They'd decided that tents weren't going to work for the winter, and had milled lumber and gathered stone from the surrounding forest in preparation for constructing their first actual building.

"Jones can handle it," Bellamy said shortly, his gaze glancing over her dismissively.

"But we need to talk about the wristbands-"

"That can wait, Raven and Monty aren't ready," he countered.

"But-"

"Look, Princess, just stay in camp and off the radio, nothing here can't wait for 24 hours," Bellamy said before turning abruptly and leaving camp, the hunting party scrambling to fall in line behind him.

Miller moved closer to Clarke watching her watch Bellamy's retreat, and Miller couldn't think of it as anything else. Whatever had happened between Bellamy and Clarke two nights before had clearly caused a problem between their two leaders. Bellamy had been watching Clarke all morning, but anytime he'd looked like he was going to approach her, she'd disappeared or occupied herself with someone or something else. Yet when Bellamy had decided to get out of camp, Clarke had clearly not wanted him to go. Miller shook his head, hoping that they figured it out, and hoping more fervently that he never fell victim to feelings that made sane people act irrationally.

"He'll be alright, Clarke," Miller reassured her.

"I know."

-The 100-

Clarke knew she was being ridiculous. She'd avoided Bellamy all morning, but once he was gone, she couldn't help but want him back. Clarke didn't have much faith in her ability to understand people and relationships, she was better with facts than emotions, but she knew that Bellamy had wanted to talk to her. Everywhere she'd turned that morning, he'd been there. Waiting. Watching.

She'd wanted to avoid him, and she had. They both had more responsibilities in camp than they could actually manage on a day to day basis, so she hadn't even had to manufacture anything, she'd just prioritized everything else as more important than talking to him.

She should be grateful he'd gone on the hunting trip. It gave her the space she wanted. But her logic didn't dispel the sense of unease that had hovered over her since he'd been gone.

-The 100-

The hunting party came back a few hours after the sun had sank behind the mountains, and the anxiety that had been Clarke's constant companion that day faded as they all appeared healthy- if dirty and tired after a successful hunt. Of the eight people who went out, six came back carrying antelope, while Harper carried smaller game in her rucksack and Del was acting as the unencumbered armed guard.

The teens cheered at the sight, happy for fresh food and preferring meat, despite the fact they they'd mostly grown up vegetarian and despite Clarke's warnings that they needed to eat plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables while they could.

Clarke stood slightly back from the rest, a stiff breeze lifting her hair and causing her to cross her arms over her chest in an effort to conserve warmth. The storm the Ark had been tracking was due to arrive that night with wind and rain, but hopefully no major temperature drops since they only had one wood structure built and it would only sleep 30- and that was if they all got cozy.

Clarke waited to see if Bellamy would come to her, but when he didn't she decided to step up and approach him. Grabbing a piece of meat as well as a cup of bland veggie soup, Clarke walked up to the group surrounding Bellamy and waited.

Eventually the teens moved away, leaving their two leaders with a modicum of privacy. "Your hunters did well today," Clarke complimented.

"Not well enough. There were hundreds of antelope, we caught six. Not a great success ratio," he said roughly. "Things were OK here?"

"Yeah, all quiet on the home front. Monty and Raven figured out the drill," she said with a smile seeing Bellamy's interest perk up. "And the first building is finished."

"I saw. It won't be enough," he said pessimistically. "And we'll need to divert the builders to smoke house tomorrow so we can preserve the antelope we caught today, and hopefully the ones we catch tomorrow."

Clarke frowned, glancing up at the dark clouds, no moon shining through that night. "You're planning on going out tomorrow? But the storm-"

"I'll only take a few people with me. Ones who won't whine the whole time about being wet and cold."

Clarke looked like she wanted to argue, but she let it go. They needed the meat, needed as much food as they could possibly get and store before the first snowfall. "We found some bee hives yesterday, we're going out again as soon as it's dry to try to harvest some of the honey comb. In the spring we should try to start our own hives, plant some crops, instead of relying on scavenging alone."

Bellamy grunted in response, and Clarke figured she had lost his attention. Monty and I were talking about sending a small team west after the snow thaws. The salt we got from the FEMA bunker will hold us for this winter, but-"

"We'll have plenty of time to plan once we're holed up inside from the cold, Princess. For right now, let's focus on surviving this winter."

Clarke looked at him, seeing that his expression was hard, a faraway look in his eyes. "We disabled Octavia's wristband today."

Bellamy's eyes snapped to her. "What?!"

"Monty and Raven did his and a few others, and when nothing bad happened, we did Octavia's. We saved the poison if you're interested."

"You should have waited for me," he said angrily, glaring down at Clarke.

"We could have, but you being there would have only made the situation more stressful for everyone," she stated flatly.

"She's my sister-" he said heatedly, clearing gearing up for a fight.

"Exactly. And now she's safe. Be happy," she said tightly, glaring back at him.

Bellamy stormed off, presumably to find Octavia, but Clarke didn't follow. She had no idea what to expect from Bellamy on a moment to moment basis anymore and that very uncertainty was another reason for her keeping things platonic and professional with Bellamy. They had to work together, and if one physical encounter was enough to derail their communication then an actual relationship where their emotions might become involved had every indication of being a disaster.

-The 100-


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