AN: Not much Bellarke interaction in this chapter, I'm afraid, but it's coming, I promise! Time for some friend time and Thanksgiving – I apologize in advance if I get something wrong, we don't celebrate Thanksgiving here and I've never actually been to one!
Thanks as always to everyone who read the last chapter, and to my beta Liz
I don't own anything relating to The 100
Chapter title from "Thank You for Being a Friend". The original is apparently by Andrew Gold, but I'm imagining the "Golden Girls" version by Cynthia Fee
8
Travel down a Road and Back Again
Clarke's woken from a nice dream by an incessant chiming sound on Thanksgiving morning. At least she thinks it was a nice dream, she can't remember what actually happened in it but she's feeling all warm and fuzzy.
Grumbling sleepily, she blindly fumbles for the offending item – her cell phone – on the nightstand. Coming up empty, she pushes herself into a sitting position with a huff.
Right. She put her phone on the floor on the other side of the room last night after setting the alarm, so she wouldn't just hit snooze and go back to sleep. She's definitely not a morning person…
Knowing that she really should get up, she reluctantly throws the comforter off, shivering when the cool air in the room hits her bare skin. She pauses for a moment on the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes before standing up. Her toes are immediately buried in the fluffy rug she picked especially for that purpose, and she enjoys the feeling for a beat.
The alarm's almost painfully loud by the time she finally slides her finger across the screen to turn it off.
"I'm up, I'm up," she mumbles as she heads into the bathroom, turning the shower on and twisting the knob as hot as it can go before pulling the t-shirt she slept in and her panties off and tossing them in the hamper. She twists her hair into a messy bun before stepping under the spray of water.
She's feeling marginally more human by the time she leaves the bathroom, wrapped in her fuzzy robe. She gets the coffee going before going back into the bedroom to get dressed and then treats herself to two large mugs, which gets her all the way to properly awake.
She doesn't have the time or energy to make breakfast, so when she's done, she just refills Bastet's food and water bowls and makes sure the litter box is clean before grabbing what she'll need for the day and heads out. To her relief, Gregory's is open, and she grabs a New Yorker sandwich and another coffee, promising herself it's the last one until at least noon, before descending into the subway station.
The Transfer's a standard job – Eric Atkins, male, 85. COD: cardiovascular disease – with normal memories, and she's knocking on Raven and Zeke's door with fifteen minutes to spare before the start of the Thanksgiving parade.
"Hey, babe," Raven greets her while Lola yips at their feet. "You look tired, rough night?"
Clarke shrugs, kicking her shoes off. "Slept fine, but I didn't get to sleep until after one and then I had to get up way too early, so didn't get my normal eight hours."
Raven is already heading back to the kitchen, so Clarke follows her, ignoring Lola's over-excited whines for cuddles.
"And what kept you up so late? It wasn't even midnight when we hung up."
Raven goes to check on something in one of the stainless steel, built in ovens and Clarke climbs onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar.
"I might have texted Bellamy after we hung up…" she starts, hurrying to continue when Raven throws her a smirk. "Just, you know, hey, let me know you get home OK, that's completely normal. He was driving home in the middle of the night."
"Sure," Raven agrees, leaning against the bar across from Clarke, but there's a slight teasing tone in her voice. Not that Clarke's not used to that. She's frequently on the receiving end of it and has gotten quite good at ignoring it by now.
"And then he replied when he got home, and we texted for a bit."
"OK. So did you decide what to do about your little… crisis?"
Clarke rolls her eyes. "It wasn't a crisis, just… I don't know."
"You called me in the middle of the night," Raven says, eyebrows raised. "If it wasn't a crisis, you would have waited until now to talk about it."
"OK, fine. Maybe it was kind of a crisis," Clarke admits. "Not a big one, but… fine. And no, I haven't. But I might not have to."
The timer on the other oven beeps, and Raven turns her back to take out a baking plate with steaming rolls. Yes, she makes them from scratch, because buying ready-made rolls just 'isn't Thanksgiving-y' or something.
"How'd you reckon that?" she asks as she puts them down on the counter, covering them with a kitchen towel to let them cool slowly.
"He asked if I wanted to come to his place on Saturday, said he'd cook me dinner," Clarke replies, another smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Raven gives a low whistle. "Yeah, you're right. That's like code for 'want to get naked?'."
"Right? I mean, he does have a roommate who might be home, but I'm going into this expecting sex."
"Going into what expecting sex?" Zeke asks, coming into the kitchen. "Because I don't remember putting that on our Thanksgiving invitations."
Raven elbows him in the ribs when he tries to steal one of the rolls and he steps back, chuckling. "Those are for dinner! And not today, obviously. Bellamy's making dinner for Clarke at his place on Saturday, I was just telling her that's basically like asking her to come over for a booty call."
"Definitely," Zeke agrees. "Just a little more polite than coming out and actually saying it."
"See?" Raven says with a smirk. "OK, come on, the parade's about to start!"
"You know, considering the two of you have been in a monogamous relationship for the last few decades, I'm suspecting I have a better grasp on dating etiquette," Clarke notes as she follows Raven into the living room. "Just saying."
Raven huffs. "Please. When was the last time you went on an actual date and didn't just go home with someone from a bar that you never saw again after the one night?"
Clarke actually has to think about that one, so Raven might have a point.
"Niylah," she finally realizes. Raven doesn't seem impressed, though.
"That was, like, ten years ago."
Clarke frowns. "No way. It was while I was in LA, so no more than… OK, maybe ten years." Actually, it's more than that, she left New York in 1999 last time and met Niylah four years into her placement in Los Angeles, and they dated the last few years they were both there, before Clarke left for Paris and Niylah for… Seattle, she thinks. That was in 2005.
"Face it, babe," Raven says, grabbing the remote so she can turn the TV on and leaning forward on the couch. "Time flies. We're getting old."
Clarke can't help but laugh. "Good thing we're really not, then."
"OK, shut up, it's starting."
Clarke squeezes her lips together to stop the laugh coming out and glances at Zeke. They both know that it won't be long before Raven starts commenting the parade herself, but she demands complete silence as it begins.
Making sure that Raven's focused on the TV, Clarke quickly holds up five fingers behind her back for Zeke, who's sat down on Raven's other side. His eyebrows furrow for a moment and then he's holding up three fingers in return.
It's two and a half minutes before Raven starts laughing at a float, and Clarke rolls her eyes at a smiling Zeke but makes a mental note to sneak him a five dollar bill when she can. It's their own little Thanksgiving tradition.
As usual, the parade evolves into Clarke and Raven commenting on and laughing about everything from the balloons and floats to the people the camera zooms in on, Zeke staying mostly quiet but shaking his head amusedly at the two of them from time to time. He disappears into the kitchen now and then, to keep an eye on the food, but it seems like everything is under control.
It's a little after ten when Clarke feels her phone vibrate in her pocket – Raven has a strict 'no phones during the parade' rule, so she's turned off the sound – and she feels her heartrate pick up a little before she even knows who the text is from. Glancing at Raven, to make sure her friend is still engrossed in the parade on the TV, she subtly slides her phone out of her pocket and opens the message.
Morning, Princess :-) enjoying the
parade?
She ignores Zeke's raised eyebrows and turns away slightly to hide the phone from Raven as she replies.
Morning :-) it's great, of course!
Wait…
Are you trying to tell me
you're not watching it?
How very un-American of you!
She watches the speech bubble as she waits for his reply.
Didn't feel like setting an alarm
on my day off, just woke up.
Sounds like Miller's got the TV on
though, so I'll go be very American
in a moment ;-)
Which means he's still in bed… and that brings a whole bunch of images to Clarke's mind. Rumpled sheets, messy bed-head, bare chest… or maybe he sleeps completely naked…
"What does Loverboy want?" Raven's voice pulls her out of her musings, and Clarke gives her friend a guilty look.
"Just saying good morning," she mumbles back, getting an eye roll in return.
"God, you two are nauseating, and you're not even in the same room."
She doesn't, however, tell Clarke to put the phone away, which she takes as a good sign. She's gotten another message in the meantime.
Tell Raven and Zeke Happy
Thanksgiving, by the way.
"He says Happy Thanksgiving," she relates.
"Yeah, yeah," Raven grumbles, eyes back on the TV.
"Tell him Happy Thanksgiving back," Zeke says.
Happy Thanksgiving back
from them :-)
So what's the plan on your end,
heading out soon?
There's no immediate response, so she tucks the phone between her thigh and the couch, away from Raven's immediate view. No need to be too obvious about it. When it buzzes again, a few minutes later, she surreptitiously pulls the phone out again.
Probably not for a couple of
hours at least.
Miller's trying to avoid having
to help…
Clarke manages to turn a laugh into a cough, but Raven still shoots her an annoyed look and she realizes it's probably best to wrap things up.
That's horrible Thanksgiving spirit!
You should drag him out to the car…
as soon as the parade's over
This time the reply comes almost immediately.
I know, that's my plan, shhh ;-)
Again, she holds back a laugh, but she can tell she's not very successful from Raven's huff next to her.
"If you're going to talk to him all day you should have just invited him," she complains.
"Sorry," Clarke apologizes. "I'll stop."
I won't tell a soul!
Raven's giving me the evil eye…
she has a strict no phones rule
during the parade :-(
Uh-oh :-O I definitely don't want
get on Raven's bad side… not
a good starting point for this
relationship.
Clarke feels the corners of her mouth turn up at the last word.
Probably a good ground rule
in general, to be honest ;-)
Noted ;-) enjoy the parade, and
I'll talk to you later, when the
phone ban has been lifted?
Of course :-)
Clarke can feel Raven's eyes on her as she sends the last message and demonstratively holds up the phone when it's gone through.
"Putting it away, see?" she says, making a show of putting the phone back in her pocket. Raven's eyes narrow for a moment, but then she turns her attention back to the parade on the TV.
-100-
They watch the rest of the parade without incident, and soon after it's over, the other Thanksgiving guests start joining them.
Harper and Monty are the first to arrive, bringing Harper's famous pies. Clarke and Raven have been trying to get the recipe for her apple pie out of Harper for decades, but she still refuses to tell them more than the fact that she has a secret ingredient. Which of course doesn't help one bit. The handful of times that Harper and Monty have spent Thanksgiving somewhere else since they started their little Friendsgiving tradition, Clarke and Raven (mostly Raven) have tried to replicate the recipe, but have yet to find that elusive secret ingredient. Last year, a frustrated Raven suggested that Harper must put a piece of her own soul in there… Clarke's not convinced she's wrong.
Jasper and Maya turn up fifteen minutes later, Jasper with a big bottle of what Clarke assumes – and fears – is his moonshine, which has somehow become tradition on the Thanksgiving table, and Maya clutching a large bowl with her amazing garlic mashed potatoes, covered with aluminum foil.
Last through the doors are Murphy and Emori – Clarke's still not completely sure how Murphy ended up as a constant at these things, but he has been for the better part of fifty years. Emori's the latest addition to their motley group, it's only the third Thanksgiving since she and Murphy became a couple – another thing that Clarke's not sure how it happened. Though she supposes it should be comforting – if anything, it proves that there really is someone out there for everyone.
"Hey, Griffin, heard you finally fell off the wagon and got a Norm boyfriend," is Murphy's greeting as he holds out a bottle of wine to Raven, probably picked up on the way and at Emori's insistence.
"Hello to you too, Murphy," Clarke replies with an eye roll, returning Emori's hug. "And I wouldn't call him my boyfriend, we've only been on one date."
"Three," Raven says, and Clarke frowns.
"How on earth do you get three? I could stretch to two, counting our brunch on Sunday, but not three."
"Halloween."
"OK, first off, that was a party," Clarke objects. "Which we didn't even go to together."
"Oh, please, you were at the party for, like, an hour before he showed up and you both went MIA for the rest of the night," Harper pipes in.
"Exactly," Raven adds. "You spent almost four hours hidden away on the roof, just the two of you, 'stargazing'." She actually makes air quotes around the word. "I don't care if it was technically at a party – that's a date. Plus, you left together."
"And that ended so well," Clarke grumbles, throwing Harper a look through narrowed eyes that she hopes relays how betrayed she feels at her friend taking Raven's side – Harper is usually the person in their friend group who tries to stay on everyone's good side and mediates in situations like this – but she only gets an unremorseful shrug in return.
"Why?" Murphy asks, pouring himself a glass from the wine bottle Zeke's opened. "He couldn't get it up?"
Raven elbows him in the side. "Clarke spotted his Number and bolted. Left him standing in the middle of the street – literally."
"And he still came back?" Murphy's eyebrows shoot up. "That's dedication. Or insanity. There's a fine line between the two."
"You're missing the point, babe, as always," Emori says mildly, shaking her head. "So he has a low Number?"
"268," Raven says, and a collective wince goes through the room.
"Actually, 247 today," Clarke corrects.
"Well, that sucks," Murphy says, handing her the wine he just poured for himself.
Clarke wouldn't say she knows Murphy very well, he's sort of been a part of their little group for the past half century but she barely knows anything about his personal life. The way his mouth twists into a grimace makes her wonder if he might have personal experience on this matter, though.
"It really does," she agrees, raising the glass to him in a silent toast before taking a sip. "I don't suppose any of you have heard of someone being able to change a Number?"
The others glance at each other, the expressions on their faces telling her everything she needs to know.
"That's not… you know it's not possible," Monty finally says, voice gentle.
Clarke sighs. "I know. I figured it couldn't hurt to at least ask." To her enormous relief, Maya hurries to change the subject and that's the end of the Bellamy discussion, at least for the moment. She has no doubt they'll circle around to it again before the day is over because, well, most of her friends are assholes. She loves them, but that doesn't make it any less true.
Now that there are more competent cooks in the kitchen, Clarke is happy to watch the action from the bar counter, sipping her wine.
As usual, Murphy questions everything Raven's done and tries to 'fix' whatever he can get his hands on, until Raven physically kicks him out of the room. Maya and Harper join forces to finish the sweet potato pie, Emori starts whipping cream for the desert, Monty oversees the Brussel sprouts and green beans, and Jasper – who, if possible, is worse than Clarke when it comes to cooking – manages to burn a pot of mac and cheese. Luckily, Raven has extra, since Jasper always tries to make it and always ends up burning it, so soon enough, Zeke is ladling up a perfect batch of the pasta dish into a bowl.
Since nobody's really paying her much attention, Clarke takes the opportunity to pull her phone out of her pocket again, sending off a text to Bellamy.
Did you know that cooking
can be a spectator sport?
She doesn't expect an immediate answer, it's almost two in the afternoon so he and Miller and Jackson might very well be on their way to Miller's parents, or already there. But he didn't say anything about not being available, so…
She checks her job app, just to make sure nothing's happened to the Transfers she has later in the evening, but everything's still the same for both.
She's about to open her Instagram when her phone buzzes with an incoming message, and she quickly switches to the message app, butterflies flopping a little in her stomach when Bellamy's name fills the screen.
Aw, poor Princess! Been benched?
She rolls her eyes at his insistence of using that stupid nickname… even if it is a little cute.
And I'm not even the only crappy
cook here! Jasper burnt mac and
cheese so bad just now he set
off the fire alarm!
Please tell me there's at least
one person there who can actually
cook? And someone watching
the rest of you so you don't burn
down Raven's amazing apartment…
A laugh escapes her as she reads the message, and she quickly looks up, but nobody seems to have noticed.
Relax, Mom ;-) Raven's a great
cook and Zeke's pretty good
I'm almost positive Murphy's secretly
a gourmet chef too, though I've
never been able to prove it…
It's really just me and Jasper who
need supervision
That's a relief!
So you're allowed outside
communication now ;-)
At the reminder, Clarke glances at Raven, who's busy checking on the turkey. There's no spoken rule about no phones during the cooking and eating part of the day – not that there really is during the parade, either – but she'd still rather not get caught.
Technically, yes
Though I don't want to face the
Spanish inquisition over turkey,
so I'm keeping you on the
down low ;-)
So I'm your dirty little secret?
"Hey Clarkey!"
Jasper's loud voice makes Clarke look up just as he literally jumps onto the bar stool next to her. It sways for a moment, but then he grabs onto the counter to keep it from toppling over.
"Did you already start on the moonshine, Jas?" she asks amusedly, putting her phone down on the counter.
He waves his hand in the air in what is probably, in his mind, some sort of explanation. "Just a tiiiiny bit. But this is not about me. How are you?"
"I'm fine, Jas," she assures him. "Just enjoying spending the holidays with my best friends."
"Aw, you're my best friend too!" He frowns. "After Monty. And Maya. You're definitely one of my best… est friends. For sure. Like, top ten, easily."
"Good to know, Jasper." She catches Raven's eye across the kitchen, nodding discretely at Jasper. Raven picks up on her meaning and pops a pod in the coffee maker next to the stove. "How about we get you some coffee, huh? Get you sobered up before dinner."
Jasper frowns adorably. "I didn't drink that much."
He probably didn't. "I know, but your moonshine's way too strong, you know that."
He really should know better by now, but in a way, Jasper getting a little drunk as they wait for Thanksgiving dinner has become a tradition.
Raven puts a steaming mug of coffee down on the counter before returning to the oven, and Clarke nudges it closer to Jasper. "Come on, drink up."
He obediently drinks some of the hot liquid.
"So how is the new boyfriend?" he then asks. "Why didn't you invite him to this thing? You should have invited him! We want to meet him!"
She doesn't even bother trying to correct him on the whole boyfriend thing, she knows there's no point. It might even hurt her case – Jasper is a firm believer in the theory of 'the lady doth protest too much'. "We had our first official date last night, I think it's a little soon to officially introduce him to all of you lunatics. And you already did meet him, at Halloween, remember?"
Her phone buzzes as she speaks and she turns it over to read the message.
That might be fun, actually…
all cloak and dagger, sneaking
around… kind of hot ;-)
"Is that him? Hey, guys, Clarke's texting with her new boo!"
"Jasper, for the love of all that is holy – never use that word again," she says absentmindedly as she types out her answer.
Sorry, Jasper caught us! The cat's
out of the bag… not sure it was
ever in it, but you know what
I mean
"Yeah, Jasper, don't try to be hip, it doesn't work anyway," Murphy pipes in from the doorway to the hall. "And you're wasting a perfectly good opportunity to snoop and see what they're talking about."
Jasper eagerly leans towards her at that, but Clarke pulls the phone away from him and gives him her best stern look. He immediately shrinks back.
"Sorry, bro, I'm way more scared of her than I am of you," he says and Clarke awards him with a smile.
"Good choice."
And here I was looking forward to
slipping in through your window
in the middle of the night…
A little disappointed, I have to say.
She can't hold back the laugh that bubbles up in her throat, and Jasper gives her a look with raised eyebrows.
Tell you what – if you manage to
climb the building, you can still
sneak in through my window ;-)
When she looks up from her phone, everyone in the kitchen are watching her.
"What?" she asks, suddenly self-conscious with all the attention on her.
Raven shrugs before turning back to the oven. "It's just been a while since I've seen you smile like that," she says in a deliberately off-hand voice.
Clarke rolls her eyes before focusing on her phone again. "Yeah, yeah."
Hmm, didn't think about that part…
possibly not the best idea I've
ever had.
OK, we're here, think I have to
go be social for a while :-/
Oh, no, you mean like actually
talk to people?
I know, crazy concept, right? You
should try it too ;-)
I don't know… these people look
kind of weird…
:-D Need new friends?
Pretty sure I'm stuck with these
losers by now…
OK, go be social, I'll survive…
If you insist… OK, tell everyone I
know hi.
Talk to you later :-*
It's silly that three little symbols arranged in a specific way to indicate pouting lips can make her stomach swoop and her heart stutter, but they do.
"Ooh, they've advanced to kissy emojis." Jasper's voice pulls Clarke out of her musings and she finds him leaning in close, reading the messages on her phone. She immediately turns it over to hide the screen.
"Hey! I thought you were scared of me?" she says, pushing him away from her, but grabbing onto his arm as the movement makes him stumble off the stool and onto the floor.
"Well, yeah." He shrugs. "But I'm also too curious for my own good."
"He really is," Maya agrees, crossing the kitchen while she wipes her hands on a towel. "Leave her alone, Jasper."
"Your wish is my command, my lady," he says, giving an exaggerated bow and kissing Maya's hand. She giggles and blushes, and Clarke is reminded of why they're some of her favorite people – despite having been together for almost three decades, they still act like teenagers with a first crush sometimes.
"God, you're corny," Clarke says with a laugh. "Stay away from my phone!"
She turns it back over and sends two more messages.
Will do :-)
Have fun and talk to you later :-*
She hesitates for a moment before hitting send on the second one – what if he didn't mean to send a kiss emoji? But so what, she decides, resolutely hitting the send button and then putting the phone back in her pocket. Even if he didn't, she can do it first. It's the twenty-first century, damn it!
"OK, people!" Raven claps her hands together, drawing everyone's attention. "The turkey is coming out of the oven. Everyone knows their task – get the table set and everything out there. Go!"
They've done this so many times by now it's like a well-oiled machine – everyone grabs something from the kitchen cupboards or counter and practically march into the large living room, where there's a huge table seating twelve. This year, there's just nine of them, but they have had to add extra chairs a few times over the years.
It takes a couple of rounds to the kitchen, but soon everyone's seated around the table and Zeke is carving the turkey.
It might be a cliché, but Clarke doesn't really care – when it's her turn to say what she's grateful for this year, it has to be her friends.