Chapter 9

The both played it off like it was no big deal. Neither of them was ready to admit the magnitude of this disaster-in-the-making.

It was all part of the act, a piece of the territory that came with the deal. Besides, it was all working. Emily was skeptical and hard to convince, but she was starting to believe their charade.

It was only the aftermath of Clarke's words that they were dealing with. She had lived alone her entire adult life. She never had any roommates or boyfriends that stayed with her. It was strange how fate worked out, that the first man she'd live with would be a man she had hardly been able to tolerate.

"You're not serious," Octavia breathed, her eyes like round circles. "You asked her to move in with you?"

"No," Bellamy denied, "I didn't."

"So what, she asked to move in with you?"

"More or less," he zipped up the duffle bag on the bed.

"Hey," Octavia stepped in his way, and she shoved him back a bit with her hand, "Seriously though, what's going on?"

"Your friend's a horrible liar and the wrong thing came out her mouth and the wrong time. Emily and Connor think we're living together, so now we're living together," he explained curtly. He was getting ready to pick Clarke up before heading over to the new house.

"You're kidding," Octavia was still skeptical. There was just no way this was happening.

He shot her a look before ignoring her and moving to get the rest of his things together.

"Oh my god, please tell me you're kidding. You're not actually moving in with Clarke?"

"Don't worry, O. I'm not going to steal your friend away from you, I promise," he joked, towering over his younger sister. He then walked through the front door.

"Bellamy, you're going to live with a woman. A girl who I care about," she followed him down the stairs outside, "Clarke is doing you a favor and helping you out. Don't mess with her."

Bellamy dropped the bag into the trunk of his car, then turning around and sighing. "I'm not going to mess with her."

"I'm serious, Bellamy. She's not like the other girls you can use and manipulate."

"I have to go, Octavia," he shut the trunk door down.

She exhaled loudly. She knew Clarke; she knew that the other girl would never let herself be tricked by any guy, especially not after Finn. But she also knew her brother and his nature. She didn't want this whole arrangement to end badly.

"Say hi to Connor for me," Octavia gave a bit of a smile.

"I will, O. Stop worrying."

He put his hand on top of her head and messed up her hair. She slapped his hand away defiantly.

As he got into his car and drove his way to Clarke's apartment, he couldn't help but think about what Octavia had said. The truth was that Octavia didn't need to remind him of anything.

He already knew that Clarke wasn't like anyone else he'd ever met. She was special, even he could see that.

-p-

"That's it?" he looked at her, eyeing the single piece of luggage in her hand.

"Yeah," she answered as he took the bag from her and placed it into the trunk. "Why?" She watched him. It was different, seeing Bellamy dressed casually compared to the suit he wore to work. He had a pair of sunglasses sitting on his nose, his hair slightly messy.

"Suit yourself. You're just going to have to make trips back to get more of your things," he shrugged.

"I think I'll be fine," she responded, a half smile across her lips.

She helped herself into the passenger side of his car, ready to pull the door shut when he caught it with his hand. He just stood there, not realizing that he was staring.

"What?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

"Nothing," he shook his head, coughing into his hand as he shut her door and made his way over to the driver's side.

"Nice ride," her eyes scanned the interior of the vehicle. She'd been in here when he drove her and Octavia back from the bar. It was one of those old sports cars, a classic. But it didn't look child-friendly; it didn't even have seatbelts in the backseat.

"Thanks," he put the keys into the ignition, leaning back to her side with his arm so he could look out the rear of the car to back out of her building's driveway. And almost like he could read her mind and the expression on her face, he added, "I have another car at the new house, a safer one for the kid."

He was leaning so close she could smell his aftershave. She held her breath as he returned to his side, turning the wheel, and driving onto the main road. His eyes were on the road, but he was hyper aware of the girl next to him.

He was a bit of a car enthusiast. Growing up, he'd never been able to afford any of the toys or knick-knacks he really wanted. Any spare change in his pocket ended up towards Octavia's college and med school fund. It was only as an adult that he started collecting certain cars.

He would buy them as pieces of junk and fix them up himself. He was never a smart student in school, and figuring out the mechanics was difficult. But through trial and error he managed to make them run like new.

"I've got a bike too," it was already waiting in the garage of the new house too, "Ever been on the back of a motorcycle?" He asked with a grin.

He already knew the answer, but it was nice to see her glare at him from the side of his eye.

"Ha ha," she let out facetiously, "Those bikes are death traps. I prefer being alive, so no."

"Come on, Princess. Live a little."

That made her crack a smile. That's exactly what Octavia used to say when they first met. The brunette was always trying to push Clarke out of her comfort zone, to get her out in the world. Now she saw where the other girl got it from.

She found herself smiling for a bit longer, and when he glanced at her, he was smiling too.

This was nice.

She had known the man for all of one week, and now she was moving into his house as his pseudo-girlfriend. All of this was a crazy, stressful, and whirlwind of an experience. But right now, it was nice too.

Clarke broke eye contact first, then turning to her window. He had rolled the glass down before arriving at her apartment, and the breeze paired well with the sunshine.

"Thank you," he said after a bit, "By the way."

She turned towards him again.

He absent-mindedly brushed the bridge of his nose with the pad of his thumb before placing it back on the wheel. "I appreciate everything you're doing here."

She pressed her lips together, thinking that way she could prevent the ends of her lips from curving up. "Don't thank me yet," she glanced up at his profile, "I might need a favor down the line. Your connections with the law might make you useful."

That actually made him laugh.

This was definitely nice.

They drove for a couple more miles before they made their way deeper into the suburbs. The white picket fences and big backyards were a foreign sight for him. He was a city boy through and through.

"Here we are," Bellamy pulled into the driveway. The house was spacious, big like the others in the neighborhood. There was a moving truck already parked on the street, and a few men in brown uniforms had congregated in the front porch. Movers.

He groaned out loud. He was seriously regretting his decision to let Octavia order the furniture for the house. He could already feel a headache coming, and another ache in his wallet.

"I'll deal with the movers," he told Clarke as he shifted the gear into park. He opened his door, "Emily's parents are dropping Connor off at ten—"

"I'll handle it," she assured him.

He tilted his head down in acknowledgement before exiting the car and then approaching the three men in front of his house. She couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, but it was somewhat entertaining to watch Bellamy figure out just what to do.

"Doctor Griffin," came the small voice.

She looked behind her, finding light blue eyes looking up at her. She was going to greet him back, but was stopped by the stern presence of a woman who looked to be in her later forties.

"Connor," the woman chastised, "I told you not to run off!" She was catching her breath, barely realizing Clarke standing there. "Oh, you must be the new girlfriend."

"Yes," she answered a bit too quickly, she extended her hand but the older woman cut her off.

"Sorry that we're early, but we had a personal emergency."

"No, it's completely all right," Clarke glanced down at Connor again with a smile, "We're very excited to spend the day with Connor."

"About that," Emily's mother coughed, "Something's come up, and we need to leave him for the night. We can get him in the morning."

Clarke had a blank look on her face for a second. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"We're leaving Connor with you two until tomorrow."

Clarke quickly turned in the direction she last saw Bellamy, who was now helping haul different boxes out of the bed of the large truck, completely oblivious to the conversation that was happening across the yard. And then she turned back, her gaze connecting with Connor who was looking at her expectantly.

"You know, I really should ask Bellamy. I can go get him, if you could just wait a moment," she laughed nervously.

"It's fine," the other woman casually termed, as if she was expecting this response from Clarke. "Maybe Bellamy's schedule is just too hectic to keep his son overnight,"

Clarke swore her mouth was wide open. This lady was a piece of work. It was one thing to fight in front of a child, but it was a whole new level of low to manipulate the situation in front of a kid so that it seemed like his dad didn't have time for him.

"You know what? It's fine. We could take him all weekend, if you need," Clarke said impulsively and smiled smugly, satisfied by the surprise on her face. The blonde took the same hand she had earlier extended to the other woman and offered it to Connor. "What do you say, why don't we go check out your new house?"

Clarke didn't even wait for Emily's mother to leave before she led the boy away. Bellamy wasn't the conventional choice for a guardian, but he was a hell of a lot better than this woman.

Clarke held onto the boy's hand, which now clung to hers. She could sense his apprehension and nerves. This must have been scary for him. He was basically staying with strangers. Bellamy saw them walking on the lawn. He didn't walk over, but he did wave once.

"Connor," Clarke pointed, waving back so that the kid could see.

Connor didn't move and simply turned back to her with a shrug. He really did have an attitude. But she laughed it off.

She took him into the house. They went around the ground floor first, touring through the kitchen and living rooms. Connor was silent, but she could tell he was interested. He was a bit like she was as a child, quiet, but always watching.

"I think this will be your room," she gave him a little push as she stood in the doorway. She could hear the rumbling downstairs of coordinated voices and the slam of things being set on the wooden floors.

Connor walked the perimeter of the room, stopping at the window. He was just barely tall enough to see through the glass, but his eyes were fixated on something. So she walked over and followed his gaze.

He was looking at Bellamy, directing two other movers as they carried one large box together.

Clarke's eyebrows came together, and she let out a breath.

"Hey, Connor," she started softly, waiting for him to look at her, "Want to know a secret?"

He nodded.

"I'm a little bit scared too."

-p-

It took around another hour for everything Octavia ordered to be moved off the truck and into the new house. By the time he reentered the house, he found Clarke and Connor sitting together in the middle of the living room floor.

The kid was leaning over onto Clarke, trying to get a better vantage point to view the book in her hands.

"Hey," he got their attention, as two pairs of eyes synchronized and glanced up at him, "What are you two up to?"

Clarke smiled, "Connor was just showing me his new books." Then she whispered something into the kid's ear before standing up off the ground and walking over to Bellamy.

"He's smart," Bellamy commented proudly, still watching Connor.

"Yeah, he is," she confirmed.

"Hey," she tried getting his attention quietly now. Bellamy turned, his line of vision landing on her. "I have something I need to tell you."

She liked telling Emily's bitter mother off at the time, but the consequences of doing so were just now dawning on her. Connor might be eight, but he wasn't blind. This act between them was about to become into a twenty-four-hour show.

At this rate, her mouth would never stop getting her in trouble.

End Chapter 9

A/N: I wrote this one quickly, just because I was so excited to see how many of you enjoyed the last chapter. Thank you for all the support. Like always, please review if you'd like me to continue.