Love is like a virus. It can happen to anybody at any time. - Maya Angelou

"I can't stand it," Bellamy groaned, looking up at Monty who was playing on his handheld as he sat next to the bed. Jasper was on the bench, watching out window as Bellamy ranted. "I'm stuck here for another night and I'll have to deal with Clarke for a whole month as my doctor. This is going to kill all my chances!"

"At least your only stuck here one more night," Monty quipped, looking up at him. "And you're looking at this all the wrong way. Clarke is a doctor and from what you said about she and Octavia, she likes to take on everyone's problems. Use that to your advantage."

"Oh that's really appealing," Bellamy laughed. "Nothing turns a girl on more than a man in a hospital dress."

"Who said you needed to turn her on?" Jasper grinned from the window. "Why not appeal to her intellect. She's still on duty, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Bellamy nodded. "The nurse said she'd be in one more time to check on me before leaving for the night."

"Use it to your advantage," Jasper continued. "When she comes back in, apologize and try to catch her interest with something she likes. Be charming and friendly; it's not going to kill you."

"If she doesn't see through it," Monty smirked, looking back up at Bellamy. "What exactly did she say again?"

"I'm here to do my job and make sure your stubborn ass doesn't end up a cripple," Bellamy smirked, leaning his head back and looking at the ceiling. "She's not exactly easy to get along with."

"It seems Harper and Kat would disagree," Jasper poked, making Monty's brow furrow in disgust.

"I can't believe Harper even spoke to her," Bellamy admitted. "I wonder what was said."

"Harper said it wasn't a complete waste of time," Monty said, his voice tight. "She got to know what kind of person Clarke was and she trusts in Kat's judgement. She's on edge and definitely doesn't trust her but she's softening to the idea."

"And you?" Bellamy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She's arrogant, nosey, stubborn, and hopelessly naïve," Monty sighed, his eyes finding Bellamy's again. "But she's not easy to ignore. It may seem haphazard but there is a method to it all. She's smart and a quick learner; I can't tell if she's mad or a genius."

"How often we mistake the two," Jasper chuckled, moving from the bench to the bed, sitting down and looking over at Bellamy. "She's something new, almost foreign to people these days. She sees the world in a way we can only guess at; she has hope."

"We all have hopes and dreams Jasper," Monty replied tightly. "We all have something to work toward, people to love. Why does she have the right to whine and complain about how it is? What does she really know about the world? She's never even stepped out of Arkadia's walls."

"She's just as privileged as you," Jasper smirked, motioning to the two of them. "But clearly you don't see the world the same way she does."

"She's not the Buddha," Bellamy laughed, shaking his head. "She doesn't recognize the sufferings of the world and renounce her worldly pleasures. In fact, she uses them just like we do. What gives her the right to question the status quo?"

"I don't know," Jasper shrugged, grinning at the both of them. "But what gives you the right to maintain it?"

"It's not just me," Bellamy laughed, motioning to Jasper. "Your family is privileged too."

"Are we here to argue about who's more privileged or are we here to brainstorm this new problem?" Monty asked, leaning back in the chair. "I'm supposed to meet Harper tonight."

"This new problem is going to kill any plans I had," Bellamy groaned, looking back at the ceiling. "I need to figure out how to get the princess to fall for me sooner rather than later." Bellamy hadn't told Monty or Jasper about what had really happened to them. They had no idea about the gun shipment being stolen but they did know about the attacks on the road. Bellamy didn't have the heart, or the plan, to reveal the real problem to them right now. He also doubted that they'd understand his father's reasoning. If there was anyone that they hated more than the Griffin faction it was Azgeda.

"I don't see the rush," Jasper shrugged. "She doesn't seem to be rushing things with the list and I doubt she's ready to marry at sixteen."

"Harper is," Monty pipped up, looking between them impatiently. "Jasper was right. Apologize, be friendly, find out her interests, use all the moves you have to get her to seriously consider you."

"I have no other choice," Bellamy groaned. "I can't avoid her like our original plan. I can't pretend to be disinterested when she's already half-way to hating me."

"Then work with what you have," Monty nodded. "You have an excuse to see her at least once a week. Use it to peak her interest, make her wonder about the real Bellamy Blake."

"What about Murphy?" Bellamy asked, looking between them. "Where's he at?"

"He said he had some plans tonight," Jasper shrugged. "Said he'd be in to check on you tomorrow."

"He's supposed to be helping us. What exactly happened the night of the benefit anyway? I was so busy prepping for my performance-."

"You went overboard, as usual. Murphy spoke to her, danced with her, and intriguingly enough, disappeared with her," Jasper smirked, moving from the bed now to look out the window. "You may have to consider Murphy as a threat if we're not careful."

"Without me at my best, I can't possibly hope to beat out Murphy," Bellamy sighed. "Damn it! This whole fucking plan is crumbling around me."

"Things don't always go as planned," Monty spoke up, looking at his handheld. "But if it is any consolation, we know what she is looking for. We know what she likes and what she doesn't. Look, she's updated the list." He turned his screen around and Bellamy read, starting first with Landell Pike. She'd written a small paragraph of notes about him from the night at the benefit and his overall score had gone up.

Seemed a bit shy, very considerate about those around him. Genuinely interested in helping people and is a great father-figure. Seems more hesitant than anticipated to forgive old grudges but is not a fan of cheating or dirty-tactics. Could be a problem in the future if his morals get in the way. Genuine and kind, protective but simple.

"She's thorough," Jasper smiled, looking up at Bellamy. Monty switched to Murphy's profile next, moving so Bellamy could read. When he did he found that Murphy's points had gone up like Landell's but there was a much longer paragraph on his notes. What was worse was that Murphy had moved into the second slot on her list.

Still weary of his motives but am grateful that he plays fair. Seems to be ambitious enough to hold his family's interests above others. Not afraid to get dirty and is well connected with the underground scene in Arkadia: sees the world in a different light. Not adversity toward peace between families but will not follow blindly. He's more impressed by actions than words or ideas. Great dancer and adventurous. May turn if given proper incentive: made it clear that he wants to keep his options open.

Bellamy read it over twice before looking up at Jasper. "What does that mean? Keep his options open?"

"Murphy is doing what he always does," Jasper shrugged. "He's never one to pick a side until he's sure it's the winning side. He's also ambitious enough to still consider a match with Clarke. He's not stupid; he knows what that match could do for his family and your back and forth rivalry."

"He's my best friend," Bellamy spat, looking over the profile again. "He's been like a brother to me since we were toddlers."

"Brothers are always rivals," Jasper noted, his voice a little too upbeat. "You two have been competing with each other almost as long as you've been friends. You don't think he'd take this once in a lifetime opportunity?"

"Look at your profile," Monty interrupted, showing them the screen. Bellamy's points had plummeted and there was a paragraph in his notes as well. Not as long as Murphy's but it was the most revealing notes she'd recorded.

Intends to try and seduce me. Knows how to manipulate people and will use others: biggest opposition. Seems intent on holding on to old vendettas and grudges. Bloodlust. Somehow knows about suitors on list. Unsure whether or not to drop him from the list. His sister is absolutely precious and I don't want her involved in games.

"Something happened," Monty sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Murphy had to of told her your plans because this was updated last night."

"He didn't know all of my plans though," Bellamy said, looking over the notes. "I told him I suspected who the candidates were but I never told him about the actual list. He had to of figured out that it was more than an educated guess and ratted me out when she approached him with a proposal."

"She approached everyone on the list last night," Monty admitted. "She wasn't trying to be covert about it. She and Murphy got quite a bit of attention on the dance floor. Not to mention, Murphy was probably surprised that he was on her list and pissed that you didn't tell him."

"And neither of you knows what she talked to them about?"

"Probably what she's talked to everyone about," Monty shrugged, looking out the window and then back at Bellamy. "She hasn't kept it a secret that she's sick of the grudges between our families. She hasn't hidden the fact that she wants to end it and turn Arkadia into, as far as I can tell, an empire. She's also made it clear that she needs a powerful husband at her side. Maybe she approached each of them last night with her plans and that is what her notes are about."

"Each note mentioned their views on Clarke's plans," Jasper agreed. "She needs to consider who's really on her side and who is just playing the long game. That's why I don't think she'll rush into making a choice."

"But somehow she knows that I know who she's looking at," Bellamy spat, punching the mattress with his good arm. It still made his other shoulder ache, his temper flaring. "Damn Murphy, he's doing exactly what I would do."

"He's not going to allow you to manipulate him," Jasper shrugged. "He's taking his own path and we can't really blame him. Clarke is one hell of a catch."

"I'm at a serious disadvantage," Bellamy shook his head, looking up at Jasper. "What the hell do I do about this? I can't just let him get away with it…"

"Then win," Monty said, standing up and putting his handheld in his bag. "You've got two options at this point. Try and succeed or try and fail. There is no middle ground here."

"Do or do not," Jasper smirked, quoting one of his and Monty's favorite old movies. "There is no try."

"Exactly," Monty laughed, shaking his head. "Just be nice. It shouldn't be too hard. I'll swing by your place tomorrow after you get home; I'm late to meet Harper. Try not to make it worse."

"You two are lucky I'm in this bed," Bellamy joked, waving at them as they left the room. The sun was setting outside his window and as he leaned back onto the bed, to enjoy the orange hues outside, he heard a knock on the door. He turned his head toward it, pausing a moment before responding. "Come in."

Of course, at that very moment Clarke decided to show up, her scrubs replaced by her normal clothes. Bellamy couldn't help but admire the way the navy blue ensemble really hugged her frame. She simply smiled at him, walking over to the edge of his bed and checking the screen above. Both of them remained quiet as she looked through his charts one last time, her eyes meeting his when she turned back to him.

"Any discomfort?"

"A little," he replied, a sheepish grin on his face. "I feel a little guilty about the way I spoke to you earlier."

"Don't be," she said, raising her hand. "Like you said earlier; you see people's true selves when they get emotional."

"I still want to apologize," he insisted, sighing gently. "I may seem like a completely pompous ass but I know when I'm out of line."

"If you insist," she smirked, looking him over. "But I think that you're just telling me what you think I want to hear."

"Really?" he asked, pretending to be surprised, a grin on his face. "And what is it that you want to hear?"

"The truth," Clarke smirked back, sitting on the edge of his bed, looking over her shoulder at him. Their hands were awfully close but Clarke didn't seem to notice, watching him intently. "Tell me who you really are and what you really want."

"Why would I trust you with that kind of information?" Bellamy asked, his eyebrow quirked and an amused grimace on his face.

"Because you know what my plans are," she quipped, tilting her head to the side as if to challenge him. "And I feel like I don't know the real you."

"Ah, your plans for peace," Bellamy smirked. "I told you I wasn't being offensive that night. I was admiring your optimism; not making fun of it."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Why would you believe me now? I could make up some sort of story about myself and you wouldn't be any wiser," Bellamy quipped, shrugging his shoulder and making himself wince. He caught the satisfied smile that spread over Clarke's lips as she noticed his discomfort.

"You disappoint me," she sighed, looking at her feet now. "You're exactly who I thought you were."

"And that disappoints you?" Bellamy questioned, his eyebrows raised. "Why?"

"Because I like to think that there is more to a person than their family or outward appearance but you've proven me wrong," Clarke shrugged, glancing back up at him. "You're also a murderer, aren't you?"

"Murderer?" Bellamy asked, his eyes going slightly wide. "I don't-?"

"Downtown, just a few days ago," Clarke replied, her eyes stern but sad. "You and Jon… I don't know why you did it but murdering our own people sickens me to my core. Doesn't it bother you?"

"You wouldn't understand, Princess," Bellamy retorted, seeing the confusion and disappointment in her face. "You've never been downtown, you don't know anything about how the real Arkadia works. Don't point fingers at me just because you've been too ignorant to get your hands dirty."

"I get my hands dirty almost every day," Clarke replied, squaring her shoulders as she turned on the bed to face him. "My hands are stained in the blood of people just like the ones you killed. What gives you the right to take their life like that without any remorse?"

"I'm a warrior," Bellamy affirmed. "A soldier, a knight… I do what needs to be done for those I care for. You weren't there that day, Clarke. I wasn't going to let my friends be hurt…"

"I don't believe you," Clarke sighed, shaking her head. "It was overkill and you know it. I saw the autopsy reports and I talked to a first-hand witness. That boy you guys shot was barely eighteen. He has his whole life ahead of him and you just treated him like a practice dummy; without a care for his life, his humanity."

"It feels good to fight from that high horse, doesn't it?" Bellamy asked, trying to remain calm. He didn't want to scare her away and he didn't want her to hate him even more. He needed to smooth it all out and yelling and arguing wasn't the way to do it. "Listen, it may have been slightly over the top but none of us knew if they had guns and Jasper and Monty aren't exactly the fighting type. I didn't want to hurt them but they left us with no choice, Clarke. I shouldn't have to defend myself when I was only doing what was right…"

"But you feel nothing for the people you killed?" Clarke questioned, her jaw tight and her eyes intense.

"I regret that it had to happen that way but I don't regret their deaths," Bellamy sighed, trying to reason with her. "I don't know why you're so angry at me or why you care about my reasoning. I don't understand you any more than you understand me. Shouldn't that be comforting?"

"I believe all human life is precious, Bellamy," Clarke whispered, her voice sounding slightly cracked as she kept her tight and rigid composure. "I also believe that taking a human life is no small matter, especially for the killer."

"A moment ago, you were angry that I was a murderer, the next minute you're sympathizing with my trauma?" Bellamy asked, completely bewildered. "What game are you playing?"

"I'm saying that maybe your punishment for taking lives hasn't quite caught up with you yet," Clarke sighed, placing a hand on his arm, making his eyes narrow. "Maybe it's just something you'll have to live with but I'll tell you truthfully; your bloodlust will be your downfall."

"Why do you care?" Bellamy asked again, this time a little more forcefully. "Why do you care if I suffer for murdering some low-life gang members? Why do you consider it to be so offensive in the first-place?" Bellamy then smirked, making her eyes go wide. "Has something caught your interest?"

"I know that you know about the suitors I am considering," Clarke replied, letting go of his arm. "I don't know if you're just that smart or if they were lucky guesses but either way, you know I am considering you as well."

"I think all of your suitors know about your intentions," Bellamy confirmed, watching her closely. "You're not exactly subtle about it."

"No need," Clarke shrugged, glancing back at him. "Everyone knows I'll be seeking a husband soon so I might as well use that openness to my advantage. Gives me the opportunity to be blunt with each suitor."

"And that's what you're doing right now?" Bellamy couldn't stop the smile on his face. "You're confronting all the problems with me all at once so you can quickly rule me out, is that it?"

"I think we both know that a match between us is impossible," Clarke smiled, looking over at him now, her eyes wandering his face slowly. "I'd had hope but after speaking to Jon, I think I'll have better luck elsewhere."

"Jon Murphy?" Bellamy laughed, watching her reaction as he sighed, pushing his hair back from his eyes. "Use your head Clarke. He's not powerful enough to help you bring about peace."

"If I were to marry him it would discredit the entire Blake family. Even the Blake's most loyal allies would rather back a Griffin," Clarke whispered, a matter of fact tone hiding the uneasy storm brewing in her eyes. "That could ruin you and anyone who associates with you. You can pretend that you'll be fine," Clarke commented, looking back over at him. "But you'll never bounce back from it."

"And what if I revealed your intentions?" Bellamy asked. "And promised to oppose you at every chance I got. What would you say to that?"

"I'd say that soon the Blake name won't mean anything more than the paper it is written on," Clarke nodded, a disappointed haze in her eyes. "We can play this kind of game and we can both put our families on the line for it but I think we both know that neither of us would get what we wanted."

"The Griffin family is in more of a bind than the Blake," Bellamy grinned, looking back out the window at the orange and red of the setting sun. "I could go on and on with you all night about the consequences of a war between our families and the crisis that would cause. However, I think that we can agree that neither of us wants that to happen."

"Then tell me why your so opposed to peace?" Clarke asked, her eyes narrowed. "Even if we didn't marry, we could still work together to ensure that Arkadia prospers and grows."

"Marriage? You've put me on your list but who says I'd have you?" Bellamy smirked, leaning toward her curiously. "Why would I want you to mother my children and share my bed?"

"I never said I'd want you either," Clarke protested, her brow furrowed in annoyance. "I said we should work together no matter what happens."

"Peace between the Griffin and Blake family," he pondered, leaning back against the bed again. "What's to prevent us from breaking this peace?"

"What guarantees do you need?" Clarke asked, her eyebrows raised in hopeful curiosity.

"Well, if we were married our children would have my name," he smirked, watching the blush rising in her neck and cheeks. "And I'd never harm my children."

"You'd never name them Griffin either," Clarke hissed, regaining her composure.

"You never know," he shrugged, looking out the window. "I'm not a monster, you know?"

"You were willing to use Jon Murphy to elevate your standing with me," she replied, sounding cross. "You were willing to put your own interests above the interests of your friends. You are also willing to use your friends as justification for murder. What could you be other than a monster?"

"You're quite the hypocrite," Bellamy scoffed, the anger evident in his voice. "You're willing to befriend everyone on the council just to push your own agenda through, aren't you? Face it princess, we're two sides of the same coin."

"I'm nothing like you," she spat, her eyes alight with indignation. "I'd never use my friends to push my agenda. I'd never manipulate people's feelings, or families, to get what I want. I want to work with my friends to create a future we can all be proud of and that our children can prosper in. I'd value their opinions and beliefs, unlike you."

"I don't manipulate people whenever I please," Bellamy replied, obviously offended. "Unlike the others, I have bigger plans for my family and our people. I don't need you, a newly minted heiress, telling me who I am and what I should do when it concerns my own family."

She was silent for a moment before looking back at him, her voice softer as she spoke. "What are your plans, then?"

"Nice try princess," he grinned, looking out the window again. "You know; your bedside manner isn't all that great."

"I'm off duty," she smirked, turning on the edge of the bed to look out the window too. Bellamy didn't look back at her for a few minutes but she never moved, watching the sunset as he did. When he did turn back to her he could feel his breath hitch in his throat. Clarke's wild blonde waves reflected the golden sunlight so much that it seemed there was a halo of light about her. Her blue eyes were almost glowing in the setting sun as she watched the horizon, biting her bottom lip. She was obviously far away at that moment, thinking about something Bellamy could only guess at. When she realized he was looking at her she turned to face him, her blue eyes meeting his. For a moment, she just sat there, eyes on his, lips naturally pouting as she considered him again.

"Do you think I have a chance?" she finally asked, her eyes never leaving his.

"At what?" he asked, a bit breathless at the way she was looking at him. He'd never been looked at like she was looking at him now. It was such a mix of emotions that he couldn't make sense of what she was actually asking him. She looked so hopeful but the uncertainty overwhelmed her and was itself overwhelmed by curiosity. The emotions just turned and changed over and over again as he stared at her and when she realized he didn't understand she smiled; a radiant smile that warmed Bellamy to the core.

"Peace," she sighed, moving to place a hand on his forehead. He almost jumped at how swift she was, the warmth from her own hand making him look away, a slight blush coming over his neck and cheeks. "You're a little warm; is it too hot in here?"

"It's a little warm," he grimaced, glancing up at her. She realized his meaning and blushed, standing from the bed quickly withdrawing her hand.

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head.

"I think you have a good chance," Bellamy smiled, feeling a bit disappointed that she'd sprung up like that. "If you didn't, I wouldn't be trying so hard."

She contemplated his words for a moment before she smiled back, nodding in understanding. "Right," she chuckled, glancing back out the window.

"Listen," Bellamy sighed, gaining her attention again. He didn't know why but her eyes on him made every nerve tight, his mind racing with what he wanted to say and how he would say it. "I know you don't like me but you have to realize that we are all playing the same game. I cannot, and will not, put someone else's interests above my family's. No one who plays this game would. If you don't understand that, you may have already lost this battle."

"I understand the rules," Clarke said, moving closer to the bed again. "But I don't play by them. I'll make up my own rules."

"That's dangerous," Bellamy warned, his brow furrowed. "There are lines that just shouldn't be crossed."

"These rules are what trap us in this constant flow of animosity," Clarke pleaded, her eyes alight with conviction as she spoke. It was even more stunning and Bellamy didn't have the will to stop her. "Our families control three quarters of the businesses, military, farming, and government sectors of Arkadia and what do we do with such power? Use it against one another! The only people who are really hurt by such stupidity is the innocents who get caught up in the crossfire. We have to end it… there has to be more to living than that."

Bellamy didn't have the heart to poke holes in her theory. He didn't have the heart to really say anything. Clarke's deep blue eyes were brimming with unshed tears and he realized that she wasn't just saying these things. She wasn't trying to convince him for the sake of her family but of every family in Arkadia. He hadn't realized, until now, that she truly believed peace was the answer. She must have realized she'd let her emotions get away with her again because her brow furrowed and she rubbed her eyes with her palms, a weak grin coming over her lips.

"Why do you do that?" she whispered, more to herself than him. Bellamy couldn't help but smile at this. He'd thrown her off guard again and this time instead of being angry, she was fascinated.

"I told you," he whispered back, his voice soft and sincere. "People reveal their true selves when their emotional."

"You don't play fair," she laughed, a tear falling down her cheek quickly. She wiped it away and nodded, determination returning to her eyes. "I'll just have to try harder. I'm glad I was wrong about you though; you are more than you seem."

"Oh?" he asked, a shy grimace coming over his lips before he could stop himself.

"There's something buried underneath all of that bravado and cunning," Clarke nodded, a soft smile spreading over her lips, her cheeks turning pink as she spoke. "I'm determined to see it for myself; you can be cruel but your devoted to your family, especially to your sister. I want to get to know that Bellamy Blake and I'm going to have work harder than I ever have to get you to let your guard down."

"You're confident," he smiled, looking her over one more time, mesmerized by the woman in front of him. "But I think I should warn you; I'm not going to lose to Murphy or Landell. I'll have to work harder than I ever have but I will get you to choose me."

"Now who's confident?" she asked, her eyes wide as the corners of her mouth twitched into a smirk.

"We can make a deal," Bellamy replied, a cool grin on his face. "You show me yours and I'll show you mine."

"You've already seen enough," Clarke replied quickly, looking anywhere but at him.

"True," Bellamy agreed. "You've shown me who you are more than once so maybe I should even the odds."

"Don't patronize me," she said, still not looking at him. "I let myself get carried away but it won't happen again. I can still beat you, even with a handicap."

"Pity," Bellamy sighed, locking eyes with her as she glanced at him. "I like you when you get carried away."

"You're horrible," she whispered, looking away.

"I think you mean awesome," he retorted, a smirk on his face. "Are you blushing, Doctor Griffin?"

"Shut up Bellamy," she snapped, looking back at him now. "Or I'll give you a sedative."

"That's not very professional," he quipped, seeing her eyebrow twitch slightly in annoyance. "You could at least give me something good."

"You're an asshole," she repeated, shaking her head.

"You love it."

"Good night Bellamy," she waved, turning from the bed quickly and walking toward the door. Just as she was about to open it there was a knock, making her pause and look back at him. He looked just as confused as she was. Visiting hours were almost over so he couldn't imagine who it could be.

When she swung the door open Bellamy immediately felt his stomach drop. The familiar redhead, Monroe, stood in the doorway. She was wearing a particularly alluring outfit and Bellamy couldn't stop himself from cringing. Clarke only smiled, stepping aside for her to enter. Monroe gave her an astounded look and walked past, spotting Bellamy and waving slowly.

"I wanted to come see you sooner," she said, crossing the room.

Bellamy could only see Clarke's blush and the hint of a grin on her face before she left the room, Monroe turning as the door swung shut.

"That was weird," she admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at him. "Why was she visiting you?"

"She's my doctor," Bellamy explained, grinning up at her. As usual, Monroe had awful timing.

"I'm glad you got my message," Jon said, leaning against the frame of the door that lead into the dimly lit restaurant.

"A messenger delivered it at work," Clarke smiled up at him, tightening her bag on her shoulder. "I barely had time to run home and change."

"You look great," he nodded, looking over her outfit. She wasn't sure if she'd went too far, considering she was never really good with choosing a look. However, the navy-blue dress hugged her curves nicely and the white lace shawl that hung over her arms accented the simple flats she'd decided to wear.

"Thanks," she replied, pushing her hair back over her ear. "I was surprised you wanted to meet again so soon and in such a public place."

"Why do you say that?" Jon asked, offering her his arm. He was wearing a simple slate gray tunic and black pants, the orange Murphy "M" embroidered on his collar. She admired the simple look, thankful he didn't decide to dress up any more than he was. She'd have felt completely embarrassed to show up underdressed.

"You did say you wanted to keep your options open," Clarke shrugged, taking his arm gently. "I assumed you meant that in more ways than one."

"Oh," he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, some of his brown locks falling over his forehead. "I only meant that in regards to all the political stuff. My personal life is entirely different. I'm surprised you agreed to meet tonight, to be honest."

"Surprised?" she asked, looking up at him as she walked her into the building. The hostess smiled at them as they approached and after giving them the name on the reservation she immediately escorted them to a nice table, in a private area by the window. "Why were you surprised?" Clarke asked again after the hostess had seated them.

"You had to work today," Jon smiled, looking down at the menu on the table in front of him. "I can't imagine it's easy work."

"You'd be right," she smiled, glancing down at the menu and then back at him. "But it wasn't so bad."

"No surgeries today, huh?" he asked, placing his arms on the table, watching her hopefully.

"No, no gory wounds to sew up today," Clarke chuckled, seeing the disappointment in his face. "But I did have a couple of cases of flu and one particularly gruesome dislocation."

"Gruesome, huh?" he asked, as the waiter came over. "What'll we have to drink, then?"

"Good question," Clarke smiled, looking from the waiter to the menu. It had a decent wine selection and a whole page of mixed drinks and ales. After combing through the names Clarke set the menu aside, looking back at the waiter. "I'd like a glass of the sweet red."

"Make that two," Jon smiled, pushing aside his menu. After the waiter left he reached into his pocket, pulling something out and setting it on the table. It was a braded bracelet, orange and black, with the initials J.M. on it. Clarke eyed it curiously as he pulled something else out of his pocket, no doubt the object he intended to find. It was a ribbon wrapped box with a small flower tied onto the top. Clarke's eyes went wide when she saw it and Jon laughed, holding up his hand.

"Don't freak out," he assured, putting the small braided bracelet back in his pocket. "It's not what it looks like."

"We should at least finish dinner before you ask me to marry you," Clarke chuckled, shaking off the sudden fear that gripped her.

"We should but this isn't from me," he smiled, handing the box to her. "Kat said to give it to you. She also said to tell you that she's sorry for earlier."

Clarke just looked at it and smiled, pulling the ribbon apart and setting the small flower to the side. She popped off the lid and when she saw what was inside she smiled, glancing from the box to Murphy. She could see he was curious so she turned it around to show him the trinket within. It was a silver chain and linked to it was a tiny charm in the shape of a peace symbol. Clarke could immediately tell that it wasn't something that could be bought in a store; Kat had made this herself.

"Your sister is talented," Clarke smiled, picking up the small metal charm and observing it closely. "It looks like she used wire to shape the symbol; I love it."

"She makes me things all the time," Jon smiled, looking at the necklace in Clarke's hand. "I think she likes you."

"I like her," Clarke laughed, grabbing the chain and finding the small clasp. Jon stood up now, moving behind her and taking the ends of the chain from her fingers.

"Here," he said, leaning over her close enough to feel his breath as he spoke. Clarke let him take the chain and pulled her hair up on top of her head, tilting it slightly so that she wouldn't hit Jon in the face with her blonde curls. After he clasped it around her neck he let it fall over her shoulder and chest, coming around to sit in front of her again. Just then the waiter came walking over with the two glasses of red wine, setting them down in front of them and asking them for their order. After each of them ordered an entrée, the waiter left to attend to the next table, leaving them in silence as they smiled at each other. Clarke broke the silence first, yearning to confront him about the incident downtown.

"I don't mean to be rude but there is something I need to ask you about," Clarke began, watching him as he leaned forward on the table to listen closely. "I performed surgery the other day on a boy who was shot downtown. He said you and Bellamy were there and it was your handiwork on his comrades. I already confronted Bellamy but I needed to confront you as well. I needed to know why you did it, why you went so over the top and-."

"I'm going to stop you right there," Jon smiled, raising his hand. "That day was entirely my fault; I told them about a business venture downtown I was investing in and they wanted to go see it. I didn't try to stop them and I didn't bother to try and blend in and as a result, things got out of hand."

"Are you just trying to defend Bellamy?" Clarke asked, her eyes wide.

"No, not at all," Jon assured, shaking his head. "We both killed someone that day in, what I would describe as, an enthusiastic way."

"And you're okay with that?" Clarke questioned, confusion written all over her face. "You're okay with that kind of senseless violence and murder? The loss of lives?"

"I didn't say that," Jon replied, taking a sip of his wine. "I'm not okay with senseless violence and murder but I wouldn't call what we did senseless."

"And why is that?" Clarke asked, taking a large drink of her wine.

"The men who approached us were your father's men, right?" Jon asked, a curious grin on his face. "Do you seriously think that they wouldn't have taken the opportunity to ambush four enemy noblemen on their territory?"

"But what you two did…"

"It was a little too much," Jon nodded, watching Clarke closely. "But what did you prefer us to do? Run away? Take the beating? You've met Jasper and Monty… they can handle guns but against four clearly bitter gang members? No."

"But you don't care that they were Arkadian lives? You don't feel any remorse for what you did?"

"Bellamy and I are simple guys," Jon shrugged, taking another drink for wine before refilling both their glasses. "We like the thrill of a fight and we're good at it; you can't blame us for going above-and-beyond when it comes to this kind of passion. Have you ever really paid attention to the arena games, Clarke?"

"They make me uneasy," Clarke admitted, feeling a bit sheepish. She wasn't pleased about that turn of events because she was supposed to be making him feel guilty.

"That's nothing to be ashamed about," Jon assured. "But I'm not trying to make excuses. We provoked them, they provoked us and we won. The loss of life is regrettable but I won't deny that it also helps us. All the gangs know what happened by now and all that has done has made your side look weak."

Clarke sat there stunned for a moment before she sighed, taking another drink of her wine. "I just don't understand that way of thinking," Clarke admitted. "I was prepared to be mad at you like I was at Bellamy but now I don't know anymore."

"You don't have to agree with it," Jon offered, watching her with a soft smile on his face. "But you can't expect everyone to believe in only bloodless solutions. It's human nature to want to fight; we do it every day."

"But it shouldn't be your first choice," Clarke pressed, her eyes finding his. "Bloodshed should never be the first choice, especially against your own people."

"It wasn't, they approached us and became violent," Jon pointed. "But I understand what you're saying. You'd rather not see any more bloodshed within Arkadia, right?"

"It would be nice…"

"You also don't want to be with someone who resorts to violence as the first answer," Jon reasoned, making Clarke blush slightly.

"I thought that'd be obvious," Clarke mumbled.

"It is," he chuckled, making her smile up at him.

"So, what did you do today?" Clarke asked, taking a sip of the wine, trying to change to the subject. "Did you have to work?"

"Nope, I'm off duty for a couple weeks," Jon smiled, picking up his own glass. "But I did have an interesting day."

"Care to elaborate?" she teased, sitting back in her chair. She was enjoying this date so far and was surprised she was. She felt so nervous when she received his message to have dinner that night and she was almost positive it'd be awkward after she mentioned what had happened downtown.

"Well, it may not be to your taste, princess," he began, taking a drink of his wine. "But I was at one of my favorite establishments Downtown."

"Never been to that part of town, you know," she admitted, leaning onto her elbow, resting her chin on her palm. "What kind of establishment?"

"The seedy kind," he chuckled, setting his drink back down. "It's a rough place for gambling and whores."

"And which do you prefer?" she asked, shooting him a playful glare.

"Gambling," he nodded, his baby blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "I've won a small fortune at their tables and today I made out better than I ever have."

"Didn't picture you to care too much about money," Clarke admitted, watching him calmly.

"I did use some money to gamble with but the prize was actually much bigger than that," he smirked.

"Tell me," she urged, her interest peaked. He watched her for a moment, an amused smile on his face before he shrugged his shoulders, giving in to Clarke's curiosity.

"Lat week I had won so much from the house that the owner actually called me on it," Jon smirked. "I told him I'd wager everything I'd won from him over the past year if he could beat me. He put the deed to the establishment up as his end of the wager. Unfortunately for him, I won…"

"What game?" Clarke asked, grabbing the stem of the wine glass and bringing it to her lips.

"Poker," he chuckled. "I have a great poker face. Today I officially took ownership after he signed the deed over to me."

"So you're now the proud owner of a brothel?" Clarke asked, a bit skeptical.

"You don't have all the facts," Jon grinned, shaking his head. He glanced about them and then leaned in, Clarke mirroring him instinctively. "This particular seedy establishment is one of the few spots in Arkadia that gang leaders frequent. They do business there, so to speak. Now, in order for them to conduct their various businesses, they have to clear it with me."

"Genius," Clarke smiled, her eyes alight with understanding. "Who owned it before? What are you going to do with it now? How are you going to-?"

"One question at a time, princess," he chuckled, taking another sip from his glass, glancing around. "The previous owner is a small time smuggler. He opened the establishment under the protection of the gangs who frequent his whores and tables. According to his information, which was reluctantly given, the three gang leaders that frequent his establishment are all from rival families."

"Which families?" Clarke pressed, her voice low.

"One gang operates under the Blake family moving guns," Jon whispered, leaning closer. "The other is a growing gang under the Jaha family operating as loan sharks. They've made quite a bit of money off the poor who get forced to use their services."

"Wells would never…"

"It isn't Wells," Jon said, shaking his head. "No, these gangs run as a loose network of affiliates. Wells and his dad probably know they exist but the general rule with these kind of dealings is to not ask too many questions. Most of these kind of gangs have one main goal; to fuck over their rivals."

"I would never-."

"You should let me finish," Jon urged, his voice a whisper. "The final gang is a bigger fish than the other two. They operate under the protection of your family." Clarke could feel her jaw tensing, knowing full well what agenda her father could be pushing. "They peddle prostitutes and drugs; hard drugs like opioids."

"I'm not surprised," Clarke whispered back, feeling the shame as her cheeks turned red. "My mother is well connected within the hospital, especially with the research and development labs that create the prescription drugs."

"No judgements," Jon assured, seeing her embarrassment. "My family owns two gangs within the city too; pushing black market items like ammunition and rare minerals." Clarke's eyes met his now and she could see he genuinely meant to make her feel better. She gave him a strangled smile before sighing, regaining her composure by taking a large drink of wine. Jon just let out a laugh, taking a drink from his own wine before continuing on. "But that's why I wanted to meet you tonight. I wanted to tell you about this because, believe it or not, I think I may be able to use this prize of mine to help you."

"Really?" she asked, her eyes wide. "Why would you want to help me?"

"Well, as it happens I already have a few dealings with the Blake family," he explained, leaning forward again. "And by tomorrow morning, every gang in Arkadia will know that I own The Starlight Lounge."

"Starlight Lounge?" Clarke laughed, covering her mouth as she did. "That's a horrible name."

"One of the many things that need changed," Jon admitted, drinking the rest of his wine. "But once the gangs know that management has changed, they'll want to know where I stand. Since I already have the Blake's business, I wanted to approach you first to see if maybe the Griffin family wanted to work with me on the new lounge. As I told you, I want to keep my options open and working with both sides seems to suit me."

"Work with you…?"

"Unofficially," he nodded, his voice low as he glanced around him. "These kind of establishments usually run on a system. The house is backed by their sales and cut of the gang business, making it easy to hide cash flow. Since management has changed, the three gangs that run their businesses out of the lounge will expect to hammer out a new deal with the owner. Probably try and get a better deal with the new and inexperienced owner."

"Since I plan on moving the two gangs I control to my lounge for muscle and business, I need someone who can convince the other gangs to continue their dealings alongside mine," he explained, watching her face closely to make sure he didn't lose her. She simply nodded at him, a sly grin spreading over her face.

"And you think I'll be helpful?"

"Immensely," he assured, watching as the waiter came back over to refill their wine glasses. He told them their food would be done soon and once he disappeared again, Jon continued, his eyes alight with excitement. "If you could accompany me to a meeting with the Pike and Griffin associates it would be more than enough to show them that I've got your endorsement. That'll insure that terms remain fair and that business will continue as usual."

"You want me to publicly endorse some seedy brothel and game house?" Clarke asked, her eyes wide.

"Not publicly," Jon laughed, taking a sip of the newly poured wine. "It would be a private meeting and in exchange, I'll make sure to push your agenda for peace."

"Doesn't seem like a fair exchange," she admitted, taking a drink of her own wine, watching him closely. "I have to attend a meeting with gang leaders who will inform their bosses that I am working with Jon Murphy to maintain the black market. The black market run by gangs that incite violence to thwart rivals whenever it suits them. Do you honestly think my father wouldn't find out?"

"Not necessarily," Jon grinned. "Everyone in Akradia, even the lowest of peons amongst the shadiest gangs, knows that Clarke Griffin is newly named the Griffin heiress. Everyone and their grandmother knows that you need to prove yourself in society with all the politics and marriages. They also need to know that you've come into your own; you still need to prove that you are capable of stepping into your father's shoes in every aspect of society."

"I don't understand what that has to do with my father finding out," Clarke said, confused by his explanation. The waiter was walking toward the table with their meals when Jon grinned at her, turning to admire the dishes in front of them. After the waiter made sure everything was to their liking, he moved to a newly arrived table leaving them to their meal and conversation.

"I'll just give the impression that your father sanctioned your involvement," Jon chuckled, summing up his meaning while peppering the fish he'd ordered. "They won't question it if your there in person."

"That still doesn't seem like a fair exchange," she commented, pouring some of the dressing over her grilled chicken salad. "What do you mean by push my agenda? Who are you going to push it to? The gangs?" She grinned at this, poking at her chicken before taking a bite.

"You think that's silly?" he asked, his eyebrow raised as he pushed some of the rice on the plate around. "You have to start somewhere, princess."

"I didn't say it was silly," she replied in between bites of food, their conversation slowing as they ate. Clarke didn't realize she was that hungry; she hadn't eaten since lunch that afternoon with Kat and Harper. After they'd finished about half of their food, they each took a drink of wine, grinning at their similar eating habits over the rims of their glasses.

"If it's not silly, why so skeptical?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and poking at the vegetables in the rice.

"I only meant that they aren't known for their kind-hearted nature," Clarke replied, eating one more piece of chicken before setting her fork down. She wiped her mouth with her napkin now, watching Murphy as he took another drink of his wine. "How would that even work?"

"Well, once business is running as usual we can control the flow of product," Jon explained. "This place works as a cache for them to store not only money but merchandise. We can control the violence this way. By being directly involved with every aspect of their business we'll have the power to influence their decisions. It's the perfect way to maintain the balance while simultaneously saving lives."

"You've really thought this through," she finally said, after taking a drink of wine and considering his words. "Overall, I like it. I'm skeptical about meeting with these gang leaders but I like the overall scheme."

"You'll be protected," Jon assured, watching her closely. "I wouldn't put you in danger if that is what you are worried about."

"Not at all," she laughed, shaking her head. "I'm not worried about anything like that. I'm worried about my father aborting our plan while it's still in the womb."

"Why would he?' Jon asked, his eyebrows raised. "From what I've gathered, your father is a pretty passive guy. He might even approve of you taking your first steps towards real influence."

"You don't know Jake Griffin," Clarke whispered, her eyes narrowing on him. "He's always perceived as passive and agreeable and though he's the kindest father I could ever wish for; he's not entirely detached. My father can be direct, aggressive, and sometimes mad when it comes to protecting his legacy."

"How so?" Jon asked, his eyes growing wide as she spoke, the tone of her voice obviously betraying the admiration she had for her father.

"Think about it," she grinned, looking him over. "You ever wonder why I was pushing to find a suitor so suddenly?"

"Not really," he shrugged. "I mean, I just assumed it was because you'd been named the heiress."

"That's exactly why," she nodded. "It isn't really a law but in order for me to officially ascend I need to have a husband, a guarantee that the Griffin name will continue. My father, in his gracious wisdom, has given me a very limited timeframe to make this decision."

"I thought you said he was kind?" Jon laughed, leaning back in his chair, his smile betraying the obvious disbelief in her story.

"He is," she sighed, drinking the rest of her wine. "But on this he will not budge. I cannot figure out why but even my mother is in agreement."

"This is unbelievable," Jon laughed, shaking his head. "No wonder you're pushing this peaceful solution so hard."

"You're the first suitor I've put everything on the table for," Clarke warned, her jaw set. "Since you're the poker expert, I know I can't bluff my way around you. I'm hoping you'll understand and stick by your words from last night."

"I say what I mean," Murphy smirked, leaning toward her. "And mean what I say. I play fair."

"Then you must have the best luck in the world," she nodded, extending her hand. Jon looked at it with amusement before moving to shake it. Clarke moved forward again now, wrapping her fingers around his forearm the best she could, the size of them larger than she'd anticipated. Jon understood now and grasped hers, tightly but gently, the warmth of it sending chills up Clarke's arm.

"I'm glad you agreed to meet me," Jon nodded, a smile on his face. "I think we could be dangerously efficient business partners."

"I'd have to agree," she replied, letting go of his forearm now, leaning back into her chair. "This is the best date I've ever been on."

"This is a date?" he asked, his eyes wide as he feigned surprise. "Had I known I'd have brought flowers."

"You brought me a necklace," she retorted, placing her fingertips on the small charm. "But I don't really have anything to compare this date with; it's my first."

Oh my... Clarke's first date is with Murphy?! Yeah... that wasn't expected, was it? Thanks for reading! Please review!