A/N: So, I noticed that I managed to spell Bellamy's name wrong in the last sentence of the last chapter. Mortification! Not the way I wanted to end a chapter. Feel free to let me know in a review or PM if you see stuff like that. Typos yank me out of my reading zone and I don't want to do that to my readers.

It had been a great and terrible scheme, Bellamy thought. When he had seized on the idea of convincing the kid his Grounder buddies would beat the shit out of him if he confessed to being captured Bellamy realized he also needed a good reason why he and Clarke had been out there in Grounder territory. He'd grabbed her hand as part of a silent message not to blow his plan. Somehow, he never let go again.

Bellamy was good at thinking on his feet. He had to be after a lifetime of lying to protect it should have been easy to pretend with Clarke. But that was the problem - it was too easy.

On the Ark he'd never had more than one night stands. He couldn't. Girlfriends demanded time, long talks about feelings, and permission to pop by his pod anytime of the day or night. With all his secrets there was no way he could do that. But it hadn't been much of a sacrifice anyway. No girl held his attention that long.

So why did the cuddle fest he and Clarke put on for the kid come so naturally? Putting their clasped hands on his knee so the kid could see them holding hands had been deliberate on his part. It was only a few minutes later he noticed he had been stoking the back of Clarke's hand with his thumb.

She leaned against him at that point, her body fitting perfectly with his, and when Bellamy remembered to breathe he realized he was in trouble. There was something happening here and it was a Hell of a lot more dangerous then sex. As he rested his chin on the top of Clarke's head he contemplated the dangerous game he was playing. Shooting Jaha was dumb, but starting to fall for the one person who made the 100 question his leadership was pure idiocy.

Bellamy and Clarke left the kid in the cave with his fog blanket still in place, ankles and wrists bound, but a decently sharp rock given to him that he could use to slowly saw his way out. It would give them the head start they needed. Bellamy left him with his bow but took the arrows, just in case the kid decided to do something stupid.

In a move that was either really sweet or really devious, Clarke had kissed the kid on the forehead, messed up his hair and told to stay safe. Ouch! Talk about loss of man points.

After pretending to be a couple, they slipped into an awkward silence for the hike back. Idly, Bellamy wondered if they would ever see the kid again and if they did, would they be trying to kill each other. If they were, would one of them hesitate? Aw, who was he kidding; he'd hesitate. He'd been spending too much time with Clarke.

When they saw the wall in the distance, they picked up the pace. They'd done it. Made it to Mount Weather, gotten weapons and medical supplies, interacted with a Grounder where no one died or was beaten, and survived an acid fog.

The sentinels called out their return and soon they were surrounded by people celebrating their return.

"We have guns!" Bellamy shouted to great whoops of joy. "And we have medical supplies for the first idiot who shoots himself in the foot." Lots of laughter for that one and a couple of people slapped Clarke on the back in acknowledgement of who would be patching them up.

Bellamy continued. "Training starts tomorrow. We don't have infinite ammo so people with lousy aim won't even get near a gun. Prove to me that you're a damn good shot with a bow and arrow and then you'll get a chance to show me what you can do with a gun. From that, only the best sharp shooters will get guns to practice with and carry on them. Sharpshooters will be given extra privileges and the comfort of knowing they always have a weapon with them."

Bellamy could see Clarke watching him, a questioning look on her face. Here we go, he thought. She'll be criticizing my plan in 3...2...1... She surprised him by staying silent.

"But Bellamy," Dax piped up, "We don't have any bows and arrows."

"You think that excuse will work on the Grounders when they attack us?" Bellamy snapped, confused that his prediction has been wrong. "Figure it out."

There was a mad scramble as people dashed off in groups of two or three, or alone. They would need saplings to bend into bows, string or wire from the drop ship, metal or stone for arrow heads.

Once they were alone Clarke stepped closer to Bellamy and spoke to him for the first time since leaving the Grounder boy. "Your contest is flawed. Whoever makes the best bow and arrows will probably end up with the best aim."

"I guess everyone better make damn good equipment then."

"And what about people who might have ended up as our best shooters who don't even get a chance because they're hopeless crafters?"

Bellamy scoffed. "Who said people are only using their own bow and arrows for the contest?"

"But that's the impression everyone got."

"Good. That'll give them incentive. And by the time everyone has had a chance to try every bow we'll be able to declare a master bow builder, too. There's not enough guns to go around."

Clarke nodded and started heading towards the drop ship.

"That's it? No more arguing about it?" Bellamy wasn't sure why he was trying to stir up trouble where none existed.

Clarke turned but kept walking backwards. "Why would I? It's a good idea."

"Can I get that in writing, Princess?" Bellamy shouted. "Clarke Griffin thinks Bellamy Blake has good ideas."

Clarke held up one finger as she called back. "One good idea, Blake. Don't let it go to your head."

Bellamy grinned as he headed back to his tent. He'd take that one as a win.