Drinking on a Monday night turned out to not be the greatest idea in history Clarke soon discovered when she awoke on Tuesday morning. She wasn't as hungover as she could have been had Wick not taken them all home when he did, but she still wasn't great.

Clarke dragged herself out of bed and got in the shower and only once she was standing under the hot water did the events of last night come flooding back to her. Bellamy was broke, thanks to Echo. It explained a lot. Clarke wondered briefly if she should leave, now that she knew. He was probably finding it hard to pay her. She quickly shook the idea from her mind though when she remembered what had happened next. Bellamy had kissed her. He had kissed her. Even though he thought he shouldn't. And he said he always dreamed about her. She didn't know what that meant for them now, whether or not there was any future in it, but she knew one thing for certain. She couldn't keep pretending Lincoln was her boyfriend, or she'd never find out.

Once she was showered and dressed, Clarke made herself some breakfast and a coffee, and did the same for Octavia when she came down a few minutes later.

"You look like shit," Octavia told her.

"Thanks," Clarke rolled her eyes and joined Octavia at the dining table. "Look, Octavia, I can't pretend I'm dating Lincoln anymore," Clarke said seriously.

"Why not?" Octavia whined.

"I- I just can't, okay? I don't like lying to Bellamy," Clarke explained.

"Is this because you're in love with him?" Octavia asked knowingly.

"I'm not in love with him," Clarke denied. Octavia rolled her eyes. "You have to tell him about you and Lincoln eventually," Clarke pointed out.

"Fine," Octavia agreed, resigned. "But you have to let me do it in my own way. Can you just keep pretending for a few more days?" Clarke nodded.

"What's your plan?" she asked.

"Well, I thought we could have a nice dinner. The four of us. You, me, Bell and Lincoln. I can help you cook. And if I tell him over dinner maybe he won't make a scene," Octavia said, but she looked dubious. Clarke nodded, she had more faith that Bellamy would be able to accept Lincoln and Octavia. It would probably take him some time, but she knew honesty was the right choice. The longer they lied about it, the worse his reaction would be.

"Saturday night?" Clarke suggested. That was as long as she was willing to carry this on for.

"Saturday," Octavia agreed.

At eleven, Clarke made up the usual picnic for the workers and headed out into the orchard to deliver it to them. The sky was stormy and Clarke thought it might rain later.

"Hey Clarke, I hear you guys had a big night last night," Jasper laughed as he grabbed the cooler from Clarke's hands. The others gathered around as Jasper handed out the food.

"You could say that," Clarke replied, glancing at Bellamy. "My pounding head would have to agree."

"I'm just sad you didn't invite us," Monty grinned.

"How did you get Bellamy so drunk that he doesn't remember anything?" Harper asked looking at her boss with a slight smirk. "He hardly ever drinks." Clarke looked at Bellamy as he grinned awkwardly.

"You don't remember anything?" she asked him, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"My mind is pretty much blank from when Raven brought us that tray of drinks," Bellamy shook his head. "Why, do you?"

"No," Clarke lied quickly. "Not a thing." There was an awkward pause before Jasper spoke up again.

"Man, you guys must have really been wasted!" he chuckled.

"Yeah," Clarke smiled stiffly. "I should get back to work." She headed back inside with a heavy heart. It crossed her mind that Bellamy could have just been saying he didn't remember anything so that he didn't have to tell his workers anything, she just wasn't sure how to ask him discreetly, without seeming too invested in his remembrance. Plus she'd already told him she didn't remember anything either. She couldn't exactly walk up to him and say "Hey, do remember kissing me, because I remember it in excruciating detail and I really wish we could do it again." That probably wouldn't fly, especially if he really didn't remember.

"So, you don't remember anything, from last night? Not even how pathetic Raven was when Wick came in?" was the best she could come up with when he walked into the kitchen that night while she was cooking dinner. Which reminded her, she should probably call Raven later and see how things had worked out.

"I don't even remember Wick being there," Bellamy chuckled, sticking his finger into the curry sauce she was making.

"He drove us home," Clarke told him.

"Right," Bellamy nodded. "I'll leave you to it then.'

After she had knocked off for the night, Clarke called Raven.

"What happened with Wick?" Clarke asked as soon as Raven picked up. Raven was silent for a moment. "Are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here," Raven responded.

"So?" Clarke pressed.

"Well… uh…" Raven stalled and Clarke wondered if something really awful had happened. She then heard some scuffling sounds and then Wick's voice came through the receiver.

"Hey, Griffin," he said, and Clarke could swear she could hear him smiling.

"So are you guys together now?" Clarke asked, and she was grinning too.

"Yep!" Wick answered. "She wasn't really in a state for talking last night but when I gave her breakfast and coffee this morning she was seeing me in a more favourable light."

"I'm glad," Clarke smiled.

"How are you and Bellamy?" Wick asked.

"What?" Clarke replied quickly, thinking for a moment that he had in fact seen them kissing in the alley.

"You guys seemed pretty smashed last night. Did you have a hangover?" Wick clarified.

"Oh, yeah. The worst," Clarke said in relief.

Bellamy acted normal the whole week, and showed no sign of anything having changed between them, so Clarke could only conclude that he really didn't remember kissing her. Being around him was worse than before, because now she knew what it felt like to have him pressed against her, and how his lips felt on hers. Every time he touched her, an innocent tap on the shoulder or an accidental brush of hands, it sent shivers through her and she found herself blushing much more than usual. She only hoped he didn't notice.

If he seemed suspicious about the reasons behind Octavia's dinner plans for Saturday night, he didn't show it. It was stormy that night, and Clarke wondered if it was a bad omen for Octavia's plans. Octavia insisted they all dress up for the occasion, and that was when Bellamy started asking questions. He called Clarke into his room to help him pick a tie, or so he said. Clarke suspected it was just so he could grill her about Octavia's motivations. Clarke herself was wearing a dress she had borrowed from Octavia.

"Which tie?" he asked. Clarke picked one and he placed it around his neck.

"Why are we doing this again?" he asked as he wrapped the tie around itself while Clarke watched on.

"Octavia wants a nice family dinner," Clarke shrugged.

"But why do I have to wear a tie?" he complained. "Can you help me with this?" he gestured to the mess of a knot he'd made in the tie. Clarke sighed and walked over to him and began untying.

"Why do you have to ask so many questions?" Clarke asked. She focused on getting the tie right and not on how close he was standing or the smell of his aftershave.

"I'm just confused," Bellamy said. Clarke finished with the tie and smoothed his shirt with her hands. She quickly pulled her hands away when she realised what she was doing. She looked up to see him staring down at her.

"Come on," Clarke said, stepping back before she could do or say something stupid. "Dinner will nearly be ready." Bellamy followed her to the dining room where Lincoln was waiting.

"Clarke!" Octavia called from the kitchen. Clarke hurried into the kitchen to help her. "I think it's done, will you help me take it out?"

Octavia had cooked a roast chicken with vegetables with Clarke's help and though neither of them were going to be winning any awards for their cooking, it looked and smelt pretty good. They served up the meal and joined Bellamy and Lincoln at the dining table.

Clarke was on edge the whole way through dinner, and from what she could tell, Octavia and Lincoln weren't exactly calm either. Bellamy seemed to notice and kept giving Clarke confused looks.

"Shall we have dessert?" Octavia asked in a high pitched voice, standing up.

"How about you tell me what the hell is going on first?" Bellamy said sternly. Octavia cringed and sat back down slowly. Clarke had never seen her look so scared.

"Well, the thing is Bell, and please don't be mad," Octavia started, glancing at Lincoln. "Clarke isn't dating Lincoln. I am." The whole table was silent for a minute as Bellamy processed this information. His jaw was clenched and Clarke could see him gripping his knife with growing vigour. A crash of thunder broke the silence before Octavia spoke.

"Bell?" Octavia said hesitantly.

"How long has this been going on?" Bellamy asked calmly.

"A few weeks," Octavia admitted.

"Right," Bellamy nodded. He was taking this better than anyone had expected. "Well, Lincoln, obviously you're fired." Okay, maybe not. "You can get your stuff and leave right now."

"Bell!" Octavia protested. Bellamy couldn't hold his temper any longer.

"What were you thinking Octavia?" he yelled, standing up and dropping his knife. "I told you to stay away from him! And now I find out you've been secretly seeing him this whole time? Go to your room!"

"You aren't my father! You can't tell me what to do!" Octavia screamed back.

"Bellamy, please," Lincoln tried. "This isn't just some silly fling. I really love her."

"You barely know her!" Bellamy yelled. "She's eighteen for Christ's sake! You should know better! I trusted you in my home and I gave you a job, and this is how you repay me? By screwing my sister?"

"It's not like that!" Lincoln denied. He was much calmer than Bellamy, but it was clear he was fighting a losing battle.

"Get out of my house," Bellamy growled, getting up in Lincoln's face. Lincoln took a step back before nodding.

"No!" Octavia cried. "Lincoln don't go."

"Just for now," Lincoln whispered to her.

"I'll come with you," Octavia said.

"The hell you will," Bellamy spat. "And if you two think you'll ever see each other again you can think again." Lincoln left the room to gather his things, and Octavia burst into tears.

"I hate you!" she yelled at her brother.

"You'll thank me for this one day," Bellamy told her. "Go to your room," he commanded again. Octavia gave a strangled cry of frustration and ran from the dining room. Bellamy followed her out to make sure she didn't go to Lincoln and Clarke hurried after them. Lincoln passed them with his bag on his way out. He gave Clarke a short nod as Bellamy glared on.

"Don't you think that was a bit of an overreaction?" Clarke said quietly once Lincoln was gone. "You could have at least let him stay here tonight until the storm is over." Bellamy turned to her.

"I don't want to hear anything from you," he spat angrily.

"What are you talking about?" Clarke asked, taken aback.

"You knew about this! I asked you to keep an eye on them for me, and not only did you keep it a secret from me, you actively lied to help them. I trusted you, Clarke!" Bellamy started yelling again. "If anything, your betrayal is worse than there's, because at least I expected something like this from them! I thought I could count on you."

"Bellamy, you can count on me," Clarke protested. "I just-," she tried to explain but Bellamy cut her off.

"Obviously I can't!" he was still screaming at her, and Clarke did her best to stop the tears that pricked her eyes from rolling down her cheeks. "I told you everything about myself! I told you about my parents, and my past. I told you about the money problems and about Echo, and all I wanted in return was that you be honest with me!" Bellamy shouted.

"I didn't ask for you to tell me any of that!" Clarke yelled back. "I didn't ask for any of this! You have no right to expect anything of me!"

"You accepted the job!" Bellamy reminded her angrily. "You don't think I should be able to trust the people I employ? Who I let live in my house?!"

"You know what? You're right," Clarke said, her voice quieter now, but she could hear it shake. "And I think I've outstayed my welcome." She marched past him then, to her room and began throwing her things in her suitcase. As she packed something occurred to her. He remembered. He remembered telling her about Echo and the money. Which meant he could likely hardly forget what happened right after that. And he'd pretended he didn't remember because he was embarrassed about it. Or he regretted it or something like that. It only strengthened her resolve to get out of there. She'd only stayed so long because of her ridiculous crush on him anyway.

"Clarke, what are you doing?" Bellamy called after her. She came back out of her room and almost walked into him.

"I'm leaving," she said, pushing past him. She walked towards the front door and Bellamy followed after her.

"Clarke, don't be ridiculous! It's pouring out there," Bellamy called after her. She ignored him and kept walking. He followed her into the rain and to her car.

"You don't need to be out here, you'll get all wet," Clarke said, not looking at him as she threw her suitcase into the back of her car.

"Clarke, don't go," Bellamy said, his voice wavering slightly. "I'm sorry. Just don't leave." She finally turned to him then and looked at him with pain in her eyes.

"You remember," she accused. Bellamy looked away, and it was clear he knew what she was talking about.

"Clarke…" he started. Somehow she simultaneously loved and hated the way he said her name. But he didn't say anything else, so Clarke just shook her head at him and got into her car and drove away.

She shivered as she drove out of town, her wet hair and clothes sticking to her uncomfortably. She didn't know where she was going. Back home to Sacramento? Not likely. Her windscreen wipers were working at full capacity and she almost lost control of the car once or twice as she sped along the wet road. She was about 5kms out of town when she saw the red and blue lights flashing behind her. She groaned, checking her speed to see she was way over the limit. She pulled over and wound down her window as the cop got out of his car and approached her. She recognised it to be Officer Miller from her first night in town.

"Clarke Griffin," he said, recognising her. "You're Bellamy Blake's girl," he noted.

"We're not sleeping together," she scowled.

"I meant you're his maid," Miller grinned and Clarke blushed a little. "License and registration please." She handed over the necessary documents and waited for him to check them over.

"Do you know how fast you were going?" he asked as he handed them back.

"Yes. Sorry, officer," Clarke replied.

"These wet roads are dangerous, especially at night. Where are you headed?" Miller asked her. Clarke shrugged.

"Away," she said.

"Are you sure you have to leave tonight? I wouldn't want anything to happen to you," Miller said in concern. Clarke sighed. She knew he was right. She glanced at the fuel gage and noticed she had barely any left. Then she remembered she was still wearing Octavia's dress and she probably shouldn't take that with her.

"I guess not," Clarke said.

"Alright, well I'm going to let you off with a warning," Miller smiled. "Have a nice night." He left her and drove off before Clarke started the car and started back to Bellamy's house. She pulled up out the front and let herself inside quietly. All the lights were off, and she slipped off her shoes and slowly padded towards Bellamy's room in the dark. A sliver of light peeked out from the door and she pushed it open gently to see him standing there, shirtless, towel drying his wet curls.

"Clarke," he said in surprise, dropping the towel. "You came back." Clarke took a step inside and shut the door behind her.

"I realised I was still wearing Octavia's dress and I didn't want to take it with me," she said.

"Right," Bellamy nodded.

"Would you help me with it?" Clarke asked, wishing she felt as confident as she was pretending she was. Bellamy nodded once and Clarke crossed the room and turned her back to him, sweeping her damp hair from her neck so he could access the zipper. She hardly dared to breathe as she felt his warm hand on her skin, just the brush of his thumb as his hand hovered over the zipper. He pulled the zipper down slowly, pausing when he reached to bottom. Clarke could feel his breath on the back of her neck as she pushed the straps of the dress from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

"Clarke," Bellamy said hoarsely. "The only reason I pretended not to remember kissing you is so that I could try and stop myself doing it again. I'm ten years older than you, Clarke," he reminded her once again. "And I'm your boss."

"It doesn't matter," Clarke whispered back. His hand rested on her waist and she closed her eyes, feeling the heat of his chest against her back.

"You know what people say about us," Bellamy said quietly.

"And?"

"If we do this, it will be true," he warned.

"Then let it be true," Clarke breathed, her eyes still closed. In an instant Bellamy had spun her around pulling her against him and crushing his lips against hers. She let out a whimper as his teeth dragged over her lower lip and his tongue brushed against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly and he moaned into her mouth, his tongue growing more insistent as his hands glided down her body to her ass and he lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her to his bed, removing her bra before laying her down gently. His lips grazed her neck as his hand found its way between her legs, caressing her softly through the thin cotton of her panties.

"Bellamy," she gasped breathlessly, bucking her hips towards him. Her eyelids fluttered and she was breathing heavily as he teased her with his lips and fingers. She whined as his fingers entered her and he moaned against her breast where his lips were devouring her. Clarke gripped his sheets in her hands, writhing with pleasure under his expert touch. She was close to coming when he stopped to roll of the bed. He fumbled in his top drawer for a condom and when he returned to the bed, Clarke had slipped off her underwear and lay naked, waiting for him, her blonde hair fanned out around her head.

"God," Bellamy breathed.

"What?" Clarke asked.

"I never thought I would be so lucky as for this to happen," Bellamy told her as he knelt on the bed. "I mean, I can't believe you're naked in my bed. You have no idea how many times I've thought about this, and told myself it was impossible," he babbled. "Are you sure? Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked anxiously.

"Bellamy," Clarke sat up and put her fingertips under his chin, kissing him softly. "I'm sure." He leant into the kiss and they fell back against the bed before he entered her, and Clarke cried out.

"Are you okay?" Bellamy asked.

"God, yes," Clarke moaned, wrapping her legs around him as he thrust into her. They moved together, their breaths coming shorter as they both worked each other to orgasm. Clarke came only seconds before he did, and they collapsed on the bed. Bellamy wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close and she smiled to herself as she closed her eyes.

"Are you happy?" Bellamy whispered against her hair.

"Perfectly," she replied.