A/N: Thanks for your patience, you guys. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Bellamy took a long gulp of whatever craft beer he'd just ordered while his eyes automatically scanned the room again. The little taqueria near Clarke's house was relatively quiet, not surprising for a Monday. Still, Bellamy had chosen a high-top table against a wall and he sat facing the door, giving him a near 360 degree vantage point from which to monitor any of the current clientele.

His eyes returned to Clarke. She sat directly across from him, watching the early evening traffic through the large front window of the restaurant. Her body was relaxed, legs crossed, her expression one of perfect composure, but Bellamy wasn't fooled. Her hands, which were methodically tearing her cardboard coaster into tiny squares, betrayed her discomfort. She stopped long enough to take her own deep gulp of beer and shiver slightly, which Bellamy found endearing despite his better judgement. He cleared his throat.

"Look, let's just forget about Saturday, ok?"

Clarke exhaled slightly and looked...relieved? "Ok." She began shredding the coaster again.

Bellamy softened and fought an urge to reach across the table and quiet her hands. He settled for reassuring her further. "Seriously, don't worry about it. I've been a bodyguard for a while now, and believe me when I tell you, I've guarded far more uncooperative bodies than yours, alright?"

Clarke's eyes widened at his choice of words and a small smile played at her lips. "Oh is that so? Meaning my body is more cooperative than some?"

Bellamy blushed slightly and rolled his eyes. "You know what I meant."

"No, honestly Bellamy, I'm happy to hear I'm not your least cooperative body." Clarke was grinning now, her tone playful.

"Oh shut it." Bellamy grumbled, but he couldn't help grinning into his beer. He also couldn't help the sudden thought of Clarke's body in some very cooperative positions...

"Do you have any sisters?"

Bellamy sputtered into his glass, beer heading straight down his windpipe. What the hell? He coughed a few times and Clarke serenely handed him a cocktail napkin. When he'd recovered, he eyed Clarke suspiciously.

"Why do you ask?"

"You do, don't you? I'm right."

Bellamy pursed his lips and stared at Clarke. "I have a younger sister, yes. Her name is Octavia."

Clarke nodded thoughtfully. "I'll bet I'd like her. A lot."

Bellamy nodded. "You would," he allowed. And she'd like you even more.

Clarke looked down at the remains of her coaster and smiled. A ray of lingering sunlight was cutting across their table, making Clarke's hair glow as it fell around her face. When she looked back up again, the blue of her eyes suddenly looked so vivid that Bellamy forgot to breathe, just for a moment. Get it together.

"So, it's Monday. What excuse did you give Raven for skipping your weekly movie night?"

Clarke huffed in annoyance and crossed her arms. "Dammit. Is there anything about me you don't know?"

Bellamy smiled, but didn't respond.

"I told her I had too many papers to grade for that undergrad class I TA for. I figured you wouldn't let me go to a crowded theatre unless you were right beside me."

"You figured right, Princess."

Bellamy signaled for the check and paid a bored looking server for their beers. Clarke opened her mouth to protest but Bellamy shook his head. "Let's let the agency pick up the tab, ok?" he said as he stood. "Do you really have papers to grade?"

"No, actually. I finished them all yesterday."

"Well then, come on, Clarke. It's movie night, after all. I'm sure we can find something on Netflix that we'd both enjoy."

Clarke opened the door to her side of the house and began flipping on lights, Bellamy close behind. She felt that little flutter of nerves in her stomach again; having Bellamy in her home felt oddly intimate and it threw her off balance.

Bellamy didn't seem to notice. He shrugged out of his jacket and and holster, draping both across a chair in the corner of the living room. Then he walked over to the couch and flopped down, reaching for the remote and propping his feet up on the coffee table. "I have a feeling choosing this movie is going to take some serious negotiation. But don't worry, I have excellent taste in cinema, if I do say so myself."

Clarke blinked at the scene before her. Bellamy was punching up a throw pillow, his sprawling frame taking up half her couch. He kicked off his shoes and looked at her expectantly. "Action? Drama? Please don't tell me I have to sit through another one of those period dramas like last week."

Clarke blushed. "You tailed me all the way into the theatre?"

"Of course I did. Two weeks in a row."

"Right. Sure. Of course." Clarke continued to stand in the middle of the living room, contemplating the utter ridiculousness of her situation. Movie night. With her bodyguard. Her very large, very attractive bodyguard. Who was a virtual stranger. Clarke sighed. "Alright. No period dramas."

Twenty minutes later, Clarke had changed into yoga pants and a soft sweatshirt and thrown her hair into a top knot. She'd also made a giant bowl of buttered popcorn and fetched a beer from the fridge (Bellamy declined to continue drinking. "I'm still on the clock. Gotta stay sharp.") Finally, she settled down on the couch next to Bellamy, draping a big old fluffy blanket across her legs and willing herself not to fidget. This was proving difficult, especially when Bellamy looked over at her with a grin on his face, his hair falling boyishly across his forehead. Clarke's heart fluttered slightly. You will NOT crush on your bodyguard, you will NOT crush on your bodyguard, you will NOT crush on-

"Would you believe I found a movie I think we'll both enjoy?"

"I'm breathless with anticipation," Clarke replied dryly. "What could it be?"

"Shawn of the Dead. It's funny and gory!"

"Perfect. Pass the popcorn."

After the first half hour, Clarke felt herself relaxing. She wasn't sure if this was due to the beer she was drinking or the surprisingly soothing sound of Bellamy's occasional chuckles, but she was enjoying both things all the same. Clarke was just starting to think that movie night with Bellamy wasn't so weird after all when her phone buzzed from where it sat on the coffee table. Text message.

Clarke groaned and made a half-hearted attempt to reach for it without compromising her comfortable position. This proved impossible, so she gave up, ignoring Bellamy when he laughed at her laziness. But then the phone buzzed twice more in quick succession. "Booooooooo." Clarke grumbled. "Come on, Clarke. You really should see who it is, it might be important." Before she could stop him, Bellamy reached out with one of his long arms and grabbed the phone, glancing at the display.

Bellamy's smile faded instantly, his expression becoming perfectly neutral as he tossed it into her lap. She had three texts from Finn, the topmost message one reading, "Hey Princess. Nightcap?"

Dammit.

Clarke could feel Bellamy's eyes on her as she unlocked her phone and read the other messages: "Meet me at Last Word", followed by "Please?"

Clarke tapped out a quick reply. "Can't. Grading papers." She tossed the phone back on the coffee table and turned back to the television, aware that Bellamy was still watching her.

"Persistent guy, that Finn. What's the story there?" Clarke's head snapped around to look at Bellamy, ready to tell him to mind his own business. But he had a conspiratorial and completely disarming smile on his face and Clarke found she didn't have the energy or inclination to be mad at him for prying. In fact, she found she couldn't help but smile a little herself.

"He's a friend. I've known him for a long time. Things got complicated between us last year when he and Raven were on a break. Wasn't worth the drama. Wasn't really worth anything, in the end."

"And yet he wants to get drinks."

"Like I said, we're still friends."

"Right." Bellamy was still looking at Clarke, his smile widening.

"What?" Clarke asked self-consciously.

"Nothing." Bellamy continued to grin. "I just like that you don't suffer fools, Clarke. I'm sure Finn's a nice guy. He's probably even a good guy. But he's not the guy for you."

"Oh is that right? You're such an expert on me now?"

Bellamy looked at her with those intense eyes. "I think I'm getting there."

Clarke blushed furiously and looked down, suddenly very aware of how close their bodies were on the couch. She could feel the heat radiating off of his shoulder. His very large, very muscular shoulder.

Three loud beeps sounded from Bellamy's pocket. In a flash, Bellamy was on his feet, jerking Clarke up by her elbow and putting an arm around her waist.

"Bellamy, what-"

"Bedroom. Now."

For an insane second, Clarke thought Bellamy was making some sort of sudden and indecent proposal. But his face was set in hard lines, and when Clarke hesitated to move his arm tightened around her and he half carried, half shoved her out of the living room and down the hall to her room.

Bellamy threw her through the door and slammed it behind them.

"Clarke, get on the floor on the other side of bed." His voice was clipped. Clarke saw that Bellamy had grabbed his holster from the chair in the living room. He removed his gun and tossed aside the empty leather straps.

The sight of Bellamy's gun made Clarke's blood run cold. Was it the AOG? Were they hear? Oh God oh God I need to call my mother what in the hell is going on surely it can't be smart to lock ourselves in here for fuck's sake what is happening-

Fear knotted in Clarke's gut. But fear was useless. It turned quickly into angrer. "You will tell me what the fuck is going on, Blake."

Bellamy closed the distance between them in two steps, grabbed her elbow again and pulled her with him down to the floor beside her bed. He was crouched down beside her, gun in one hand. With the other he pulled out his phone and checked the screen.

"Bellamy, goddamit tell me what's happening!"

"I'm not sure yet, Clarke. But look at me." He brought his face inches from hers and looked her directly in the eye. "Be calm. Be quiet. Trust me. Ok?" Clarke clenched her mouth shut and nodded, drawing strength from Bellamy's sure gaze.

His phone buzzed and he answered it immediately. "Talk to me."

Bellamy listened intently for a few seconds, the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching as he absorbed whatever information he was receiving. "Ok. Did any of the neighbors see?" He was quiet for a few moments more. "Fine. Alright." He hung up and exhaled slowly. Clarke searched his eyes, waiting for answers.

"Everything is fine now, Clarke. Let's get you up."

Clarke allowed herself to be hoisted up to her feet. "What do you mean, "everything is fine now"? What happened? What did those beeps mean?" Clarke's heard her own voice as though it was far away. Adrenaline was still surging through her body and her hands were shaking stupidly at her sides. She clenched them into fists.

"Clarke, why don't you sit down on the bed." He tucked his firearm into the back waistband of his jeans.

"Fucking hell, Bellamy! What just happened?"

Bellamy put his hands on Clarke's shoulders and gently pushed her down onto the bed.

"It was a false alarm. The outside surveillance crew saw an unknown person approach the house. Those three beeps were a warning from my team. Three beeps is the signal for me to secure you. It's a good thing I was already over here. Otherwise I would have had to bust down your door."

Clarke's heart was still racing, the adrenaline ebbing away and leaving her slightly nauseous. She closed her eyes and concentrated on taking measured breaths. Calm. Be cool and calm. Don't embarrass yourself.

"Who was the man?"

"They think it was a homeless guy who wanted to go through your recycling. They had him down on the ground and ziptied before he could even make it onto the porch." Bellamy shook his head. "It was done quickly and quietly, Clarke. Probably in less than twenty seconds. Monty is confident none of your neighbors saw anything."

"What about the man?" Clarke asked furiously. "You can't just ziptie random strangers!"

"He was released, and he's fine."

"My god, you people! Who do you think you are?"

"Clarke, I don't think you understand how this works. We will do whatever is necessary to keep you safe. That's our job."

Clarke was speechless. She could only glare into Bellamy's face. His eyes softened and he knelt on the floor in front of her, reaching for her shaking hands. He held them both between his own.

"Clarke, I'm sorry if this scared you. You handled it beautifully. You're ok, I'm ok, and everything is fine."

"I'm not fucking scared, you jackass." Clarke spat at him. "I'm goddamn furious! This whole situation is fucking ludicrous! My own home has become some sort of fortress and people are being ziptied in my yard and I have a live-in goddamn bodyguard who thinks he's fucking prince Prince Charming for pulling out a gun and locking me in my own damn bedroom!" Clarke knew she was reaching a fever pitch of fear and fury. She clamped her mouth closed and squeezed her eyes shut. Lock it up, Griffin.

Bellamy remained silent, but his thumbs began making soothing circles on the backs of her hands. It was a small gesture of comfort, but it was enough. Clarke felt all the fight leave her body at once. She slumped forward and rested her forehead on Bellamy's shoulder. He reached an arm around her and began to rub her back soothingly.

"You're tough, Princess. You and me, we can handle stuff like this, ok?"

Bellamy's mouth was close enough to her ear that she could feel his warm breath. His hand on her back moved in slow circles. Everything else fell away and her heart began to race again.

She pulled her head back and looked into Bellamy's eyes. They were so close now, close enough for Clarke to see the beginnings of a 5 o'clock shadow that was at odds with the boyish freckles dotting his nose. But it was his mouth that was distracting her now. It looked so full and warm and inviting. Bellamy lifted a hand to Clarke's face, watching her intently as he tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

Bellamy cleared his throat and broke eye contact. "I, uh, I'd say we've had enough excitement for tonight, wouldn't you? We should both probably get some sleep."

Clarke shook herself. "Right. Yes. Sleep would probably be a good idea."

Bellamy nodded and stood. "Would you like me to...I mean, I can stay here tonight, if you want me to. On the couch."

Clarke's heart swelled and she fought back grateful tears. "Yes. Please. That would be nice."