AN: Sorry about the lack of new chapter this week, I've basically been keeping my head above water… but let's get back to the Great American Road Trip!
I don't own anything relating to The 100
Chapter title from "Down in New Orleans" by Dr. John from "The Princess and the Frog"
See the end of the chapter for warnings
57
Bring Your Paintbrush, We're Paintin' the Town
They get checked into their hotel and have time to explore the city a little before meeting up with Gina and Greg again, who bring them to a restaurant a few blocks from the hotel which serves local cuisine.
"The best chicken fried steak in the city," Greg assures them when they've been showed to a table.
"That's a hotly contested spot," Gina says amusedly. "But this place is definitely at least top five."
The food is absolutely amazing, and after dinner, they take a bit of a detour back to the hotel, passing the beautiful old Harris County court house and the cathedral.
By the time they reach the hotel, Gina is leaning heavily on Greg. "Time to get you home and into bed, huh, babe?" he says fondly, squeezing her around the waist, and she offers a tired smile.
"Yeah, good idea. I can't wait to be able to move around freely again."
They all laugh a little at that.
"Thanks for a nice evening, guys," Bellamy then says, giving Gina a hug before holding out his hand to Greg.
"Yes, thanks so much for taking us under your wings," Clarke adds, shaking hands with Greg and then offering her hand to Gina, who pulls her into a hug instead.
"It was really good to see you guys," she says when she pulls back. "I guess you're getting an early start tomorrow, so you'll have time to see some of New Orleans before the weather gets too bad?"
Clarke's not sure what Gina might be getting at, but she glances at Bellamy, who shrugs. It's only a five hour drive, so they don't have to leave that early, but they probably should. "We don't have to leave at first light or anything," she says a little tentative.
"Well, I don't particularly want to pack Mason up in the car and I don't think I can get a babysitter on such short notice, but if you don't mind taking a bit of a detour, I do make a hell of a breakfast," Gina says, nudging Bellamy with her elbow. "Right?"
He chuckles. "She really does," he tells Clarke.
Breakfast is included in their hotel room, but it's not like they have to eat it, so she smiles at Gina. "That sounds great. What time should we be there?"
"Well, I'll be up from six or so," Gina says with an eye roll. "The joys of having a three-year-old in the house. But just let me know when you leave the hotel and I'll get started."
"Are you sure you're up for that?" Bellamy asks with a slight frown. "We don't want to put you out."
She nudges him a little harder. "Cut it out, Blake, I'm not an invalid!"
"I never said you were," he assures her, hands raised, and her eyes soften.
"I'll be fine," she promises. "Unlike with Mason, I've been able to actually sleep pretty well this time around, so mornings are usually the best time of day for me."
"OK, if you're really sure, we'll see you in the morning," Bellamy agrees.
They say their goodbyes to Greg, who will have left for work in the morning, before entering the hotel.
"I'm assuming you would have said something if you didn't feel like going over there for breakfast," Bellamy notes when they're getting ready for bed in the bathroom a little later.
Clarke rolls her eyes at him in the mirror behind the sink before spitting out the toothpaste in her mouth. "Of course I would have. I like Gina, it'll be nice to see her again before we leave."
They book one of the hotels Clarke looked up in Montgomery before they go to bed, and then she sends an email to their hotel in New Orleans to cancel their last night there. Bellamy's scrolling on his phone when she gets into bed next to him, frowning at whatever it is he's looking at.
"I can't believe we missed the hurricane alerts," he says. "I mean, we haven't been watching the news, but I'm pretty sure I've checked them online every day."
She gets settled in with her head against his shoulder, opening a news app on her own phone.
"I don't know," she replies. "I can admit that I was a little… distracted while we were in Vegas, and we've had long days since then. I honestly don't know when I checked the news last."
He hums next to her, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Maybe. Good thing we didn't miss it completely and end up in the middle of a natural disaster, though."
"Yeah, those are good to avoid."
They check out a little after eight the next morning and are back at Gina's place at eight thirty. When she opens the door to them, a delicious smell hits Clarke, making her mouth water.
It must show on her face, because Bellamy chuckles. "I told you her breakfast is amazing, didn't I?"
"You did," she agrees, turning to Gina. "Morning, thanks again for having us."
Gina waves her off. "Don't mention it. It's been a while since I went all out with breakfast, it was actually fun. Come on in."
The kitchen table is already set, piled high with pancakes, waffles, bacon, French toast and fruit. Bellamy lets out a low whistle next to her. "You really pulled out all the stops, huh?"
Gina just shrugs, nudging both of them towards the table before taking a seat herself. Mason is in a high chair next to her, already munching away on a pancake that he seems to have disassembled before eating.
"Can you say 'good morning', baby?" Gina asks pointedly and he looks up.
"Moning."
Gina smiles and pushes some hair away from his forehead. "He's having a little trouble with R at the moment, but we're working on it, aren't we buddy?"
Mason nods vigorously and turns his focus back to his pancake, and Gina turns back to Bellamy and Clarke. "What are you waiting for? Dig in."
Bellamy wasn't wrong – Gina's breakfast is definitely amazing. The pancakes are just the right amount of fluffy, the bacon is fried to perfection, and the fruit is ripe and delicious.
Gina puts Mason down for his morning nap after they've finished eating, and they linger for a while, helping her clean up the kitchen and just talking. Clarke can tell that Bellamy is a little reluctant to leave, but in the end, he's the one to actually say it.
"I guess we should get going."
It's a little after eleven, and with a lunch stop, they'll probably be in New Orleans by five, five thirty, which will give them a little time to explore tonight. She meets his eyes, nodding once. "We should. Can I use the bathroom before we leave, though?"
"Of course," Gina tells her. "You know where it is."
She nods again and heads down the hallway to the bathroom, where she closes the door behind her and leans against the vanity. She figures she can give them a few minutes to say goodbye, at least, before either of them get suspicious.
It might be overkill, but she still flushes the toilet after a couple of minutes and then lets the water run for a little bit before actually leaving the bathroom again. She's not sure if they heard her and wrapped up their goodbye, or if she just had perfect timing, but when she does, she finds them wrapped in a tight hug by the front door.
"Thanks so much," Bellamy is saying quietly. "I know we just… descended on you without notice, but it was so good to see you again."
Gina pulls away, resting one hand on her belly and reaching out the other to squeeze his hand. "I'm so glad you came, seriously. It's good to see you happy."
"Right back at you." He squeezes her hand one last time before turning to Clarke. "I'll go start up the car?"
She nods and he disappears out the door.
"He's not very subtle, is he?" Gina notes amusedly, and Clarke laughs.
"That's not one of his strong suits, no."
Gina laughs too before pulling Clarke into a tight hug. "I'm so glad he has you, and that I got to meet you."
"Likewise."
"Just… take care of him, OK?" she says as she pulls back, a small wrinkle between her eyebrows. "He's happy, it's so obvious, but he can… get in his own head sometimes, you know?"
Clarke does know that – Bellamy said as much himself yesterday, even. "I know. I'm working on that."
Gina nods. "Good. And he said you have Facebook, so I'll be sending you a friend request as soon as you leave, I hope that's OK? He's never going to get an account of his own, and Miller barely uses his these days either."
"Of course."
"Thanks." Gina hesitates, biting her lip for a moment. "I guess he told you about what happened back when we were together?"
Clarke doubts she could mean anything but the unplanned pregnancy and subsequent abortion, so she nods. "He did, yeah."
"We talked a little about it yesterday, and we both agree that it was the right decision for us, but… I don't know if you two are thinking about kids or not, but if you are, that might… bring back memories, you know? I know he blamed himself back then, even though I told him not to, that it was my decision in the end… I think he thought that if he'd been more supportive or encouraging, I might not have gone through with the abortion, but just… don't let him think that, OK? He says he doesn't, but I know him."
Clarke nods again, swallowing down the lump in her throat. The situation Gina's painting isn't going to happen, but this visit might have brought back the memories of that time for Bellamy. "I'll make sure he doesn't, I promise."
"Thank you." Gina squeezes her hand. "OK, time to let you go. Don't be a stranger, you hear me? It might be a while after this one arrives, but I'm sure Greg's parents will be happy to take the kids at some point, and lord knows we deserve a break. I haven't been back to New York since I came out here for grad school and I don't think Greg's ever been, a long weekend might be nice."
"That would be wonderful."
They part with another hug, and then Clarke slides into the passenger seat, leaning back against the headrest and closing her eyes.
"You OK?" Bellamy asks, starting the engine.
"She hinted at her and Greg coming to visit at some point once the baby's old enough," she tells him.
He's quiet for a long moment, navigating through the neighborhood and onto the highway. "That would have been nice," he then says quietly, and she opens her eyes to scrutinize him.
He looks calm if a little resigned, which she supposes is to be expected. She reaches for his free hand and clutches it in both of her own. "I'm sorry."
That pulls his mouth up in a half-smile. "What did we decide about apologizing for things out of our control?"
"I know."
They drive mostly in silence for a while, the radio the only sound in the car, but he doesn't let go of her hand, a comfort for both of them.
-100-
Clarke was expecting the weather to turn before they reached New Orleans, but the sky is still blue with a few fluffy clouds dotting it when they arrive at their hotel. The wind has picked up, though, possibly the first sign of the coming storm.
"This isn't too bad," Bellamy notes when they've parked and gotten out of the car, tilting his head back to study the sky.
The heavy mood that they left Houston with lasted until they stopped in Beaumont for the next thing on Bellamy's list of roadside attractions – the world's largest fire hydrant. He was still a little quiet as they checked out the twenty-four foot tall, Dalmatian spotted hydrant, but when they got back in the car again, it seemed like he had decided to push past it, and he picked up their 'I spy' game again, which made the last couple of hours less tense.
"No, I was expecting way worse," she agrees, opening a weather app on her phone. "Right now it's looking like tomorrow should be fine, some rain and still windy, but not too bad. And we have tickets to the Voodoo museum in the morning, so that'll keep us off the streets for a while. And even Saturday looks OK so far, some more rain and wind but not what I would expect from a tropical storm."
"Maybe we'll get lucky," he concludes with a smile. "OK, so what else do we have planned? Anything you want to get out of the way today, we have a while before sunset."
She puts her phone away before answering. "I was thinking we could just check out the area?" Their hotel is in the heart of the French Quarter, so they're right in the middle of things. "Honestly, most of the interesting things in the city is right here, the only other places I have on my list are the two Lafayette cemeteries over in the Garden district, I figured we could do those on Saturday."
Bellamy nods. "OK, sounds good."
"Is there anything in particular you want to check out?"
"Just the normal stuff, I think," he says with a shrug. "The cemeteries, like you said. Marie Laveau's house of voodoo, but that's on Bourbon Street. The LaLaurie mansion…"
"There's lots of amazing architecture here," Clarke notes. "Let's check in and drop off our stuff, and then we can go explore."
So they spend the rest of the day wandering up and down the streets of the French Quarter, ticking off the places on Bellamy's list and then some – Jackson Square, numerous churches, and old, colorful mansions. They decide to leave the two famous St. Louis cemeteries for tomorrow, when they'll have more time, but do find the Tomb of the Unknown Slave, a monument honoring those lost under American slavery.
Once they've had their fill of sightseeing and the sun has set, they find a restaurant serving gumbo, which Bellamy has never tried.
"This is amazing," he announces after a few bites.
"I know, right?" Clarke agrees, taking another large mouthful.
They find a small bakery still open on the way back to the hotel and pick up some beignets for dessert.
Their room has a small balcony attached with a beautiful, wrought iron railing and some patio furniture, and it's still warm, so they bring their treats out there to avoid getting powdered sugar over everything.
"This place must be amazing during Mardi Gras," Bellamy notes, eyes on the street below them where people are milling around.
"It's a bit much," she says, remembering the last time she and Raven celebrated the holiday in the city. "I mean, the parade's cool, but there's people everywhere, always something going on…"
He lifts an eyebrow. "So not really my scene, is what you're saying?"
She drags in a long breath, looking away from him, eyes not really taking in the house across the street. "Not really, I don't think… but I would have loved to experience it with you."
She feels his hand close around hers, his thumb brushing against her palm. "I know, Princess."
"Sorry, I brought the mood down again," she sighs, turning her hand over to be able to play with his fingers.
He's quiet for a long moment before clearing his throat. "You could… make it up to me."
The statement in itself is fairly ambiguous, but she has no doubt she knows exactly what he means before she even meets his eyes, which are intent on her.
Clarke makes a show of looking around. The hubbub from the street below feels distant, suddenly, and while there are balconies on either side of them, as well as running along the house on the other side of the street, they seem to be the only ones enjoying theirs at the moment.
"Out here?"
Bellamy's eyes widen at her question, making it clear that it's not what he meant. Which she already knew, but she can pull his leg a little.
"I…" he starts, stumbling over the words, and she laughs.
"I was kidding," she assures him. "I think we've reached our quota of semi-public sex on this trip, don't you?"
He visible relaxes at that. "Definitely."
She lets go of his hand and stands, stretching in a way that she knows makes her boobs look good, and turns to the open balcony door, glancing at him over her shoulder. "Well, are you coming?"
She doesn't wait for his response before stepping through the door, and for a moment, the only sound is from the street below.
Then she hears the scrape of a chair against the balcony floor, and a moment later, a hand sneaks around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.
"Hopefully not too soon," he murmurs in her ear, and despite the flash of heat at his mouth against her skin and his hand slipping under her shirt, she can't help but laugh.
"Seriously, you suck at sexy talk."
"Oh really?"
She knows from his tone of voice that it's absolutely the wrong thing to say. Or, as it turns out, the right thing – wanting to prove her wrong, she concludes (before her higher brain functions stop working altogether) he keeps his mouth close to her ear as he slides one hand up under her top and uses the other to push her skirt up and her underwear to the side.
He keeps up a steady commentary as he pushes one and then two fingers inside her, thumb working her clit, his other hand busy with her breast, alternating between twirling her nipple between his fingers and flicking a blunt nail over the hardened bud, telling her how much he loves being able to turn her on so easily, how good she feels coming around his fingers, his dick, how the sounds she makes are fucking amazing.
It's not the main reason she comes within a few minutes, but it's definitely a contributing factor.
He releases her breast when the orgasm washes over her, anchoring his arm around her waist, which is a good thing since her knees don't seem to be able to keep her up, and peppers her throat and neck, any bare skin he can reach, with kisses as she starts to come down again.
When the last of the aftershocks have subsided, Clarke pulls in a shaky breath, turning her head to be able to kiss him.
Bellamy responds immediately, deepening the kiss even as he slips his hand out of her underwear and slides it up to her stomach, pressing her harder against him. She moans into his mouth, arching her back a little and grinding back against him, feeling him hard against her butt.
"You want to take that back?" he asks a moment later, abandoning her mouth to kiss her shoulder.
Clarke chuckles. "Fine, you're great at sexy talk when you want to be."
"That's all I wanted to hear."
He lets out a disappointed sound when she steps away, but immediately pulls her closer again when she just turns to face him. She kisses back eagerly but keeps some space between them, getting the button and zipper on his cargo shorts undone and impatiently pushing them down his legs before sliding her hands up his chest under his t-shirt, letting her nails rake lightly against his skin on the way down.
Bellamy breaks the kiss to catch his breath and she takes the opportunity to get the t-shirt off before giving him a gentle push in the direction of the bed.
He raises an eyebrow but takes a few steps back, until his legs hit the foot of the bed. "Princess wants to be in charge, huh?"
Clarke shrugs, getting rid of her own shirt on the way to the bed and then stopping a few inches in front of him, playing with the waistband of his boxers. "Well, I already got off once, I figured I should return the favor. Off."
His eyes roam over her, making every inch of skin they touch feel like it's on fire, but he makes no move to touch her, instead doing as she asked and pushing his boxers down and off. "Feel free."
She glances down briefly, just to confirm that, yup, he's at full attention, before lifting her eyes to his again. "Sit."
He does and she leans in for a kiss, feeling his hands run slowly up her thighs until he gets to her underwear, hooking a finger in the waistband on either side to pull them down. She toys with the idea of telling him that she didn't say he could touch her, but in the end, she likes it when he undresses her, so she lets the panties fall to the floor. He moves on to her skirt and she takes care of her bra in the meantime.
When she straightens up, Bellamy's hands have moved back up to her butt and he pulls her forward. She just manages to get her legs under herself, so she's straddling him on the bed and doesn't just topple over him uncontrollably, and he noses at her collar bone before letting his tongue circle her nipple.
Clarke bites back a moan and arches her back against his touch. "I was going to blow you," she does manage to get out and he hums against her skin.
"Later."
She does get a hand between them to wrap around him, working him slowly as he kisses and nibbles his way from one breast to the other. Soon, though, his hand closes around her wrist to still her movement and she takes the hint, rising up a little to be able to slide down on him.
She pauses when he bottoms out, pulling in a deep breath, and then freezes when a loud laugh reaches them from the street outside.
"Shit," she breathes, letting out a laugh. "The balcony door's still open."
Bellamy pulls back a little, looking over her shoulder. "Yup."
She braces her hands on his shoulders. "I should close it."
His hands lock in place on her hips, though, not letting her move an inch, and he leans in to place a soft, almost chaste kiss on her nipple. "You're not going anywhere, Princess," he tells her. "What, are you afraid you won't be able to keep quiet? That you'll alert all the people outside to what we're up to in here?"
His words are unbelievably hot, and Clarke has to swallow to find her voice. "I thought we said no more semi-public sex."
He shrugs, running one hand up and down her back, making her shiver. "It's not like anyone can see us," he points out, which is true. The balcony door is at an angle that makes it impossible for them to see out through it in their current position, which would also make it impossible for anyone not in the actual doorway to see them. But still. "And if someone hears…" he continues, one hand curling around her butt cheek to lift her slightly, so he can thrust up into her and pull a gasp from her, "well, so what?"
Bellamy has a good point, and if he's not going to worry about it, then neither is she.
"When you put it that way," she murmurs a breath away from his mouth, and then they're kissing, finding a rhythm, and, God, she really isn't that into public sex, but the occasional shout or laugh from the street outside is so fucking hot.
It seems to turn into some sort of competition, both of them trying to get the other one to make enough noise that it'll carry to the outside, and they pull out all the stops, pushing each other's metaphorical – and actual – buttons.
It's definitely some of the best sex Clarke's had, and she falls over the edge first, with a cry she has no doubt someone outside must have heard. He gives her a moment to come down before flipping them so she's on the edge of the bed and he's standing between her legs, and the angle almost pulls another orgasm out of her before he comes with a shout and collapses on top of her.
"I think everyone outside knows what we're doing in here," she says breathlessly after he's gotten her off once more with a firm finger against her clit.
Bellamy chuckles. "Yeah, probably."
-100-
They seem to be in luck the rest of their short stay in the city – yes, it rains some, and the winds aren't exactly pleasant, but considering there's supposed to be a hurricane or, at the very least, a tropical storm, it could be much, much worse.
They check out the voodoo museum and the St. Louis cemeteries on Friday – marveling at the many odd tombs – and stroll around the Garden District more or less aimlessly on Saturday, checking out the Lafayette cemeteries as well.
"How many cemeteries is it by now?" Bellamy asks when they're standing in front of what is allegedly the tomb of the voodoo priestess Marie Laveau.
Clarke frowns. "I honestly have no idea, I've lost count."
"Still not creepy?"
"Nope."
His arm tightens around her. "Good."
She wonders if he's thinking about his own eventual grave, wondering if she'll come visit, spend time there like he used to at his mom's grave. She glances up at him, heart skipping a beat when her eyes land on his forehead. 14. Two more weeks. So little time…
On the one hand, it's probably not the ideal moment to bring it up – the cemetery's not crowded, but they're not alone either – but on the other, they only have so much time left to talk about it.
"Have you…" she starts, clearing her throat when her voice comes out shaky. "Have you thought about what you want?"
Bellamy doesn't ask what she means, just lets out a breath. "You don't have to worry about it, I wrote down everything I could think of and gave it to Raven, she'll take care of it."
It's such a relief she almost sags with it, and he pulls her tighter against his side. She's said all along that he doesn't have to worry about it, that she'd take care of it, and she meant it, but knowing that Raven will handle whatever comes is a huge weight off Clarke's chest. "OK."
He places a kiss on top of her head and pulls her along down the path.
"Sorry I brought the mood down," she apologizes after a moment. "Again."
"It's OK, we did need to talk about it," he tells her with a squeeze of her hand. "But we should probably do something to pick ourselves up…"
"What did you have in mind?"
He glances around them – there are two large tourist groups close by, plus a bunch of other tourists in pairs or on their own.
"Well…" he then starts, mouth turning up in a smirk. "I know we said no more semi-public sex, but have you ever hooked up in a cemetery?"
As he probably knew, the question makes her laugh, and she manages to push the darker thoughts away.
Chapter warnings: mentions of abortion, explicit (semi-public) sexual content
