Thank you so much to everyone who commented on the first chapter! It's so encouraging to get such a supportive response to the start of a story and now I'm just hoping you'll stick with me! Huge thanks to Stormkpr for betaing this and happy reading!
Please note the change of rating. This chapter is more mature than explicit tbh but hold your hats and look forward to next week.
Bellamy thinks fast, as he walks down the hall hand-in-hand with Clarke. He's relieved they got out of that tight spot so easily – it really was good thinking on Clarke's part, to pick up the tone they set with that hand-holding over the shoe earlier, and shape it into an actual full-blown cover kiss.
And it has him thinking that, really, more kissing could be a good cover in future. If they pretend to be some foolish lovestruck couple, that's much more likely to hold water than the idea that he and Clarke simply like taking walks around a bunker for fun. It gives them a reason to be places they shouldn't be, too – an excuse for seeking privacy, for checking out dark corners and rooms which should be kept locked.
He knows Clarke is probably one step ahead of him, even now. He knows she probably plans for them to make a raid on the President's office and cover it with some heavy petting if need be. She has always thought a plan through to the end while everyone around her is still getting their head around the basic concept – that's who she is.
But he suspects she's not going to be the one to mention it. That's just a hunch he has – Clarke will not suggest a scheme that rests on snogging and pretending to be hopelessly in love. For all her confidence, she tends to be a little shyer on topics like this, he has noticed.
He wonders whether that's still the pain of Finn's duplicity making her nervous.
In any case, Bellamy decides he needs to make the next move. This idea Clarke set in motion is a good one – the best they have come up with since they found themselves in this place. And he is not going to let a little shyness on her part get in the way of them saving their people.
He keeps hold of her hand as they walk down the next hallway. He rounds a corner, sees what looks like a slightly concealed alcove. It's not much – not a dark storage room – but it will do, he decides.
He tugs her into the alcove and starts kissing her firmly.
She gets the idea. It takes her perhaps a second to catch up, but then she's there, kissing him back as if her life depends on it.
That's the thing, isn't it? All their lives might depend on being able to pull this off convincingly.
After a couple of seconds – seconds which he enjoys far too much, he fears – Bellamy pulls away from her lips to whisper in her ear. He keeps his body language intimate, still standing close to her, his chest still pressed against hers.
"That was such a good idea back there." He murmurs, his gentle tone quite at odds with his firmly pragmatic words. "You OK if we keep this up? It's the perfect cover story."
She presses a line of kisses along his neck as she moves towards his ear to answer, and the shiver which runs down his spine as she moves is not at all feigned.
"You want to try that? I think it could work. Helps us look naïve. And we can act like we're only snooping around to find quiet places to hook up." She points out, calm, before licking his ear of all things.
"Exactly. I'm in."
Did she really just lick his ear? No way was that necessary. That's just – it's flustering, that's what it is.
Clarke Griffin just licked his ear, and he liked it.
He tries to push that thought aside. He gets back to making out with his new fake girlfriend, kissing her deeply, letting his hands start to roam over her hips. He supposes he ought to be thinking about this a little more. He needs this to look convincingly like the start of an overexcited youthful relationship, all clumsy touches and burning urgency.
Yeah. That's not going to be a problem, whether he thinks about it or not. Acting urgent about Clarke comes rather naturally to him, it turns out.
At last, he pulls away, letting his fingers dawdle on her arm then slip down to take her hand. That's a sweet sort of romantic gesture, he hopes. That's the sort of thing he might do if he had recently acquired a girlfriend.
Is this a good moment to tell Clarke he's never really had a girlfriend before? It wouldn't exactly have been convenient, back on the Ark, when he was hiding his sister. He's never had a medium- or long-term romantic relationship.
He's only ever had casual sex, in fact. And that's basically the opposite of what he's supposed to be acting out now.
No. If this was real, and if he was naïve and a little nervous, he wouldn't tell her he didn't know what he was doing so early on. He'd save it until he felt more confident, wouldn't he?
That's why he chooses to say something entirely different.
"We should get back to the dorm. The others will be wondering where we are." He says, loud and excited for the sake of any surveillance which might be hidden in this hallway.
She grins at him brightly. "Sure. Maybe we can – ah – take some more walks tomorrow?"
"You're a needy girl." He teases, and watches her flush in response. "Sure we can. Our friends might wonder why we keep wandering off together though. You ready to tell them about this? Ready to tell them about us?" He asks, smug as he imagines a new boyfriend would be smug.
"Yeah. Definitely. I'm excited to tell them." She gives a little giggle. It's strange, all this giggling. The Clarke he knew at the dropship was not a giggler, and he's not sure he likes it.
It keeps breaking the mood and reminding him this is all fake, when it would otherwise be all too tempting to believe it was real. To believe that he and Clarke had salvaged something good together out of this latest challenge.
It's not that he's been actively pining for her kisses, as such. But he's sort of loosely aware that, for a while now, he has liked and respected her more than she likes or respects him. And to be honest, if she had genuinely offered to start making out with him in dark corners, he would definitely have said yes.
So it all feels like a bit of a let down, every time he realises he's only faking this relationship with a giggly stranger. Even though it's only been a few minutes – or at most a few hours, since they held hands over that shoe – he's already seeing a pattern, there.
Maybe it's that frustration which spurs him on to say something slightly foolish. "I can't wait to see the look on Finn's face."
Clarke doesn't giggle at that. She just looks at him, her gaze slightly heavy, and squeezes his hand. "It's none of his business. He hurt me. I trust you and you make me feel safe – so he has nothing to complain about."
He smirks, as much for himself as for the cameras. He starts walking, leading Clarke back towards the dorm by tugging softly at her hand.
As it happens, he's not so worried about Finn. Clarke is right – Finn lost the right to care about her relationships when he hurt her. But he really is worried about Wells, who has evidently loved Clarke for years, and who they both respect too much to want him upset.
There's nothing to be done about that, he decides. Maintaining their cover as naïve, lovestruck youngsters in order to gather intel on this strange new place is a thousand times more important than one guy's disappointment.
…...
Clarke is feeling apprehensive, as she walks back into the dorm hand-in-hand with Bellamy. Selling this relationship to the security guards of Mount Weather will evidently be quite easy – that guy who found them in the storage room looked thoroughly convinced. But persuading their close friends that they really are together will surely be a hell of a lot harder.
She is still reeling, too, from that second kiss – or rather that second cluster of kisses. She can't believe she thought it was real for a moment. That he was kissing her by choice. So stupid of her – all this acting naïve must be making her more naïve in truth. It's particularly foolish, on her part, because at that very moment she was considering suggesting some more fake kisses to him as a cover story for their misadventures. She can't believe that, despite that, she actually allowed herself to think that kiss was real until he clarified the situation.
She shouldn't have underestimated him. She should have realised he was thinking of protecting their friends and forming a plan, too.
She forces herself to concentrate on the moment. They're entering the dorm, now.
At least they don't have to make an announcement. At least there's that. They simply walk into the room, hands joined, and all at once Jasper is crowing the good news for all to hear.
"Look, guys! Mum and Dad got together at last!"
All eyes swivel in their direction. Harper bursts into spontaneous applause, and takes half the delinquents with her. Monty is whooping loudly, while Jasper rushes forwards to slap Bellamy heartily on the back.
It's all a bit much, really. All they're doing is holding hands.
It's heartwarming, she supposes. It's proof that the kids want her and Bellamy to be happy. It's proof, too, that their relationship is plausible even to those who know them best. She was expecting disbelief but everyone seems sold on this lie already.
That's a little disconcerting, actually. Has she really been so obvious in staring at his mouth, these last couple of weeks?
Hang on a minute – does that mean the kids had their suspicions that he might be interested in her, too?
She pushes that thought aside and accepts Jasper's hug. Then Monty piles in, too, squeezing her tight. In the chaos she loses her grip on Bellamy's hand, and she misses it at once. She's already grown used to the reassuring steadiness of his palm against hers, it seems.
Silly of her. This is only a cover story. And anyway – he can reassure her just as well from three feet away as when they are actually touching, she tells herself firmly.
Gradually the noise dies down and Clarke seeks out the people whose reactions she is most concerned about. Finn looks sour, she thinks, but more or less resigned. He's sitting next to Stirling and causing no trouble. Her eyes search the crowd for Wells – but she doesn't find him, yet, because Miller walks right up to her.
"Take care of him." Miller says, simple and firm.
She nods. "Of course. I'll try."
Miller nods in turn. "I know. I know you already do. I know you take care of each other. That's good – you spend all your time looking after us. I'm so happy you have each other."
Clarke nods again, a little flustered. This is beginning to sound less like a friendly passing word or a hearty back-slap, and more like the best man speech at a wedding, she fears. It's all a little much for a recently revealed relationship. She knows that Miller has grown almost protective of Bellamy, since he became more or less his right-hand-man. He's a supportive guy like that. But she's beginning to feel rather taken aback by the seriousness of this conversation.
There is worse still to come.
"I just wish his sister was here." Miller adds now. "He'd want her to be here for this. He must be really missing her but he hasn't said a word about it to me. Has he mentioned it to you? At least he has you to talk to."
She gulps. "Yeah. We chatted about her a little while we walked." She mutters – a lie on top of a lie. She hates herself a little for that, but it's all part of the charade, isn't it? If this was really a matter of young love rather than a tactical move, then presumably Bellamy would have mentioned Octavia by now.
Or at least – Miller thinks he would, and Miller is Bellamy's best friend, so Clarke is inclined to trust his judgement and take his hint.
Evidently satisfied, Miller moves away. Clarke gets back to her task – searching for Wells. There he is, now, striding towards her. She dashes forwards, pulls him in for a robust hug. He hugs her back, tightly, for a couple of seconds.
Then he pulls away and looks her right in the eye.
"You need to teach him how to play chess." He says simply.
She frowns. "What do you mean?"
Wells gives a slightly too-careful shrug. "It's the only thing I can think of that he can't do – the only way he's not good enough for you. Apart from that he's the full package, isn't he?"
She swallows tightly. "Yeah. He's a good guy."
To her surprise, Wells laughs. "Understatement of the century. He's perfect for you, Clarke. He keeps you on your toes, but he'd do anything for you as well. I think he'd do anything for any one of us, pretty much – but you're different. He's obsessed with protecting you. When he ran out of that dropship to help me just because he knew you'd be upset if I died? That's crazy." He laughs again. "I want my best friend to be with someone who cares about her that much. I want you to be happy."
She hugs him again for that – how can she not? The relationship itself may not be real, but everything else Wells has said is real, Clarke finds herself deciding. Most real of all? Her friendship with Wells. It means the world to her, to have his wholehearted blessing like that.
She just hopes he will be so supportive when she falls in love for real, one of these days – if they survive long enough to worry about such petty things as that.
She pulls back from the hug. She considers her words, looks Wells right in the eye as she speaks. "You could teach him how to play chess." She says pointedly.
Wells frowns. "I'm not sure about that."
"Really. You should. It's been great to see you guys getting on better over these last couple of weeks. Maybe this is your chance to become really good friends."
Wells hesitates a moment, frowning harder than ever. And then he nods, just once, resolute.
"OK. You're right. I should get to know him better. I guess I'll teach him how to play chess."
…...
Clarke is surprised at how quickly life falls into a sort of routine, over the next couple of days. It's not as if they actually have anything to do, in this new life in Mount Weather. They have not been assigned chores or occupations. But between the regular and lengthy formal meals, and the hallways to explore with Bellamy, and the comfy dorm to just sit around and chat with the remains of the hundred, she finds that her time is well occupied.
It's odd. Just a couple of days ago her day would start with checking on the fire, maybe asking Raven whether there was any word from the Ark, and ensuring that the younger kids ate breakfast.
Now her day starts with a soft pillow, and with Bellamy stopping by her bunk to wish her good morning with an ostentatious kiss.
He's at her side almost every minute during the day, too. He's better at the casual affection than she is, she thinks – those little passing touches which really make a relationship intimate, and which make this charade convincing. She has a tendency to just walk through life with her head held high, but then remember to kiss him every so often. He is more consistently in her personal space, reaching out for her hand for no apparent reason, or slinging an arm around her as they sit in the dorm and chat.
In short, he is better at this than she is, and she cannot decide whether she is grateful, or proud, or feeling a little annoyed to be beaten by him.
They've been in Mount Weather two days, now. She and Bellamy have a pretty good fix on all the public areas on all the levels – but of course, the public areas are not the ones they are most interested in. They're starting to get to know a few of the people, but that is slower progress. President Wallace always greets them when he sees them at meals, but they have managed no more significant exchanges with him than that.
The only person they have really made progress with is Maya. And Clarke knows that neither she nor Bellamy can take the credit for that. It's all Jasper's doing. It's the whirlwind romance nobody was expecting – the most nervous yet high-spirited of the delinquents, and the quietly firm girl who helps out around the medical ward.
And yet somehow, it works.
At this very moment, Maya is here in the dorm visiting Jasper. Clarke makes a point of dragging Bellamy over there to hang out with them, and thus the strangest double date begins.
"Clarke! And Bellamy, hey! It's good to see you settling in." Maya offers kindly.
Clarke nods. "It's good to feel more settled. I'm sorry – I know we weren't so friendly when we first met you."
"It's OK. I know it must have been strange. You two weren't the worst – Stirling tried to come at me with his fists." Maya recounts, laughing.
"I know I felt calmer as soon as I saw Clarke." Bellamy offers, draping an arm around her shoulders as if to prove his point.
Clarke peers up at him with what she hopes is an affectionate expression, then snuggles more deeply into his embrace.
Maya seems to buy it. "I could tell there was something between you two right from the start." She says.
"We all could." Jasper adds now. "You should have seen them back at camp – they'd bicker like crazy but they couldn't stop looking at each other."
Clarke swallows hard. Jasper's speaking as if looking at someone is a declaration of love. She could swear she wasn't that obsessed with Bellamy, back at camp. They just enjoyed bantering with each other and made a good team. There's nothing wrong with that.
She resolves to steer the conversation in a new direction. "You must have some time off this afternoon, Maya? How does that work round here? Will we be getting work assignments soon?"
Maya looks thoughtful. "I don't know about you guys. I guess maybe you're supposed to settle in for a while longer before you start working. But I got the afternoon off by accident – there's no one in med bay. That happens quite often here. We're lucky to have such a healthy population." She says, a little too bright and careful.
Hmm. That's worth remembering for later, Clarke thinks. There's something suspicious about the good health of the Mount Weather residents, she's sure of it.
And med bay is empty right now.
Bellamy is thinking exactly the same thing, it turns out. While Maya and Jasper are talking with their heads bent close together, Bellamy kisses a path along Clarke's neck and whispers in her ear.
"You want to take a walk to med bay?"
She nods. "It's a date."
…...
Bellamy makes a point of walking slowly, as they head down the hall towards med bay, and tugging Clarke into alcoves for kisses along the way. They mustn't allow this to look like a purposeful rush to their destination. It must look like a lovestruck couple, wandering aimlessly, and eventually being delighted to stumble across a room full of beds.
That's the plan, at least.
"When we get there, I need to see as much of their medical equipment as possible." Clarke murmurs to him between kisses. "I didn't get much of a look on that first day."
"Yeah. I'll try to check out the security measures and doors."
"We can't just walk around the place though. We need to make it look natural." She reminds him, before sucking lightly at his neck for a while.
He moans loudly – much louder than their recent whispers – and tangles his hands in her hair. That's totally an act, on his part. Really it is.
OK – it's partly an act. But just because they are only together for cover doesn't mean he can't enjoy making out with her while he has the chance, right?
No. That's messed up, and he hates himself for it.
But then he goes and suggests something even more messed up. "Maybe we make it look like we want to fuck on every bed?"
Clarke hums lightly. "Yeah. Could work."
They leave that alcove, then, and head for the next. They hang around to make out there for a while, just for the sake of completeness. And then on up a flight of stairs, followed by some more kisses. Corridor, kiss, stairs, kiss. It's an odd kind of rhythm, but Bellamy thinks they are making it work. They are doing a convincing impression of horny youngsters who can't keep their hands off each other and urgently need to make love on the beds of med bay, he hopes.
Clarke is certainly pretty convincing – at times, she almost has him fooled.
They arrive at med bay. Bellamy opens the door. It's not locked – does that mean there is still a doctor hanging around here somewhere?
He stops worrying about that as he looks around the room. Checking out the whole of this space subtly is going to be a challenge. It's large, with doors in every corner. There's no way they can kiss their way around the walls without it looking suspicious.
They will have to be smart.
"We're starting on this bed." He declares, leading Clarke by the hand to a bed with a trolley of medical supplies next to it. He finds that a little odd, actually. Are these people so used to living in their peaceful bubble that they do not even lock away medicines? It couldn't be more different from the Ark.
Clarke joins him, giggling that uncharacteristic giggle she has adopted since they started this charade.
It breaks his mood. It takes him a moment to remember himself, to get back in the swing of things. He's supposed to be kissing her, isn't he?
No. He should try something else and give her a better view of those medical supplies. He sits on the edge of the bed, pulls her down onto his lap. He wraps his arms around her from behind and starts kissing his way down her neck.
"This OK, Princess?" He's asking about the intel as much as the kissing.
"Yeah. Perfect." She's warm and relaxed in his arms, even as he knows her mind must be going a mile a minute.
He keeps kissing her, keeps holding her. She reaches out for his hand, tugs it from her waist to her breast. He gasps slightly against her skin as he makes contact with that smooth curve. Even over her clothes, this is definitely a tit. It's the strangest thing, all this fake intimacy with Clarke. It's like taking someone to bed in slow motion, almost.
His cock hardens. Damn it. Damn it all. That wasn't supposed to happen. He doesn't want to make her uncomfortable with an unsolicited erection. That was not supposed to be part of the act.
On the other hand – if the cameras catch it, at least that will help sell the lie, he supposes.
Clarke starts fidgeting in his arms. She spins around, pressing him back against the bed. He goes with it, finds himself lying down and staring up at the ceiling while she hovers over him.
She's looking at something on the wall above his head. He can tell she is. What can he do to buy her more time?
This particular relationship requires a creativity he has never needed in the bedroom before, he thinks wryly, as he scoots down the bed. He's going to offer to get his mouth on her. That will give them an excuse to be in this odd position, right? And surely any security guard who catches some enthusiastic oral on camera will be more interested in the sex – or repulsed by it – than they will be concentrating on Clarke's attempts to gather data.
"This OK?" He asks, reaching for her waistband.
"No. Hang on – not yet."
Oh. OK then. He's actually disappointed, which is probably very wrong of him. No – definitely very wrong of him.
"Sorry, babe. I thought -"
"No, it's good. We can do that in a minute. But you know I like to keep you waiting." She says, pert and cheeky. "Come on – I want to try a different bed. We have so many to choose from." She points out, excited – as if she is overwhelmed with joy at the luxury of this place.
He nods, eager. She gets off him and chooses her next bed – right by the far door. That's interesting, he thinks, as he follows her.
She's lying on her side, reaching out for him. He takes her hint and lies on his side next to her, and they start kissing urgently. She's peeping the occasional glance behind him as she goes, evidently curious about that door – or something near it.
After a couple of minutes like that, Bellamy has an idea.
"You want to take this somewhere even more private?" He asks, a little louder than strictly necessary, in case they have an audience. "You want to see whether we can get through that door?"
She makes a show of considering it. "This bed's comfy." She protests, sweet and naïve.
"But don't you want to be a little bit naughty and go through the door?" He presses, trying for the tone he uses when he's playing a dominant role in the bedroom. "Doesn't that sound fun?"
She nods, pliant and wide-eyed. "Yes, Bellamy. If that's what you want. I can be naughty for you."
It's all he can do to keep a straight face. That's so uncharacteristically obedient on her part that he almost bursts into laughter right there in her arms. But there's something unfairly hot about it, too. Something that shoots straight to his cock and has him harder than ever.
If ever she wanted to act that role for real for him, one day, it seems that's something he could enjoy.
He gets to his feet, lifts Clarke into his arms. That fits the game he has started playing, he hopes. He carries her to the door and checks it out carefully. He can afford to stare a long time, he figures. Opening this door is all part of the act, now. Nothing suspicious about it at all.
He tries the handle. It's locked – no surprises there. He can see a slot for a keycard next to it, and he obviously doesn't have a keycard. He can see, too, a large sign telling him that there is to be no unauthorised access past this point.
Screw that.
"No unauthorised access, Princess. You still up for this? You like breaking the rules?"
She blinks innocently up at him. "I think it's hot when you go all rebel on me." She tells him sweetly.
He nods. They're doing this, then. They're breaking and entering some forbidden door and telling the world it's because they like naughty sex.
He definitely did not see this coming, a week ago.
He's just setting Clarke down, just on the point of starting to kick at the door, when there is a loud voice behind them.
"Clarke! Bellamy! Stop!"
It's Maya. Thank God it's Maya. This could definitely be worse.
Bellamy spins on the spot, flushing guiltily, and makes a point of holding his hands clasped in front of his raging erection. Hopefully that will draw Maya's attention and encourage her to put two and two together – and hopefully, all the while, it will look like he is embarrassed and trying to conceal his arousal.
"Hey. Fancy seeing you here." He tries for a smirk. "Sorry – we're not trying to cause trouble. Just heard you say med bay was empty and thought we could get some privacy."
Maya nods, frowning hard.
"Bellamy wanted to go through the door." Clarke offers, barely more than a stage-whisper. "He said it might be fun to sneak around, you know?"
Maya flushes. That's a hit, then. Who knew Jasper's new friend had some kind of rebel kink?
"You mustn't go through that door." Maya says, firm, more or less managing to disguise her flustered state. "I understand why you wanted to come here. I won't tell anyone you guys needed some alone time. But you really mustn't go through that door. No entry signs are here to protect us." She says carefully – almost as if she is reciting some well-learned fact, Bellamy thinks.
He nods, tries to look flustered. "Sure. Of course. We understand. We weren't trying to get you in any trouble for taking the afternoon off."
That works. That hits home, too. They have all been caught doing something they shouldn't quite have been doing, this afternoon.
It is Clarke who decides their exit strategy. "Sorry to bother you. There's a little space under the stairs on level three. We'll head down there instead." She says, flushing hotly, taking his hand and already heading for the door.
Can she honestly act so well she can even flush on command?
Maya makes no attempt to stop them, nor to say anything more. The two of them walk quick, hands tightly clasped, striding breathlessly as if desperate to get away from the sight of their humiliation.
At last, they make it to the stairwell on level three. Right on cue, Clarke pulls him in for a robust kiss.
"I'm sorry we got caught, baby." He says out loud.
She pouts. "It's OK. Maybe another time."
They get back to kissing. It's amazing how quickly kissing Clarke has become normal, he muses. He really should stop taking it for granted. Her lips are warm and soft but determined, too. She's not shy about getting her tongue involved, but she doesn't overdo it either.
She kisses like she does everything else, in short – a healthy combination of passion and good judgement.
When they have settled into their routine, she takes a break from the kiss to whisper into his ear.
"Don't worry about the door. We can try it another time. We already got a lot out of that visit. There's something going on with blood."
"Blood?" He whispers back to her – perhaps a fraction too loud. In his defence, it's a shocking statement.
"Yeah. I'm sure about it. They've even got supply lines along the walls. It's coming from the other side of that door."
Great. This too-clean, too-healthy place has a locked door from behind which a supply of blood is coming.
Perhaps now he understands why they are so keen to keep his people alive and well fed.
Thanks for reading!