A/N: Sorry for the delay Bellarke lovers . . . I added a little extra content to this chapter to make up for lost time. Bellamy and Clarke are IN THE BUNKER together . . . things are getting a little INTENSE to say the least. As always, if you like the story please let me know through reviews and follows so I know whether to keep writing it! Enjoy!


BELLAMY

Bellamy returned to the bunker in just under 2 hours. He was balancing five bags in his hands when he spotted Lincoln who walked over and took a few from him to set on the kitchen counter.

"Where's the girl?" He asked Lincoln.

"She's in the bedroom." He paused to muster up breath for the question that had been weighing on him since his conversation with Clarke earlier. "Blake, what did we get ourselves into here?" He kept his voice low so they wouldn't be overheard.

"Some bad shit." Bellamy sighed, shaking his head. "Really bad."

Lincoln took a break from unloading the bags to rub his face with both hands. "Miller is like a brother to us, and you bet your ass I would kill for him, but, this girl is innocent. This just isn't right."

"I know." Blake emphasized quietly. "I am going to come up with something." He said reassuring Lincoln, but Bellamy knew that it was going to be complicated. "Listen, don't worry about it tonight. I need a favor from you anyway."

"Sure, what's up?" Lincoln raised an eyebrow.

"I texted my sister earlier to let her know I had to go out of town on business for a few days but I haven't heard back from her. Can you go to the house and check on her?"

Lincoln smiled. "Yeah, anything for O."

Bellamy made a small grimace. "Just don't do anything that would piss me off, OK?"

"Let her know that if she needs anyth-" Lincoln cut him off, tapping Bellamy's shoulder with his fist.

"If she needs anything she can call me." He assured him. "Good luck tonight."

Lincoln took off.

Bellamy finished putting the groceries away and then placed his hands on the edge of the counter, taking a deep breath.

While he was out running errands he'd been racking his brain to figure out how he could help get the girl home safe but it was difficult to concentrate and he still didn't know what he was going to do.

Bellamy pulled an ice pack out of the freezer and wrapped it in a towel. He then picked up the two bags that remained on the counter and headed to the bedroom.

When he opened the door he found Clarke sitting on the twin bed leaning against the wall. One arm was chained to the bed frame but Lincoln had left enough slack to keep her comfortable. A book lay face down on the bed next to her and her big blue eyes were locked on him.

He held the ice pack out to the girl. "Put this on your face." He advised. She reached out to take the bag and her finger brushed his hand as she took it. A shiver went through his body. Had she done that on purpose?

He set the two other bags down on the bed next to her and pulled a bottled water and Advil out of the smaller one, setting it on the bed. She sat quietly watching him with the ice held to her face but didn't touch the pills.

"Do you want to shower?" He said, immediately regretting how creepy it sounded.

"Huh?" She seemed confused and he wished he could take it back.

"Nevermind. I am going to get dinner ready soon. Keep that ice on your face for at least 20 minutes. Also, there is some other stuff in the bags for you, clothes, toothbrush." He started to leave but Clarke spoke up.

"Wait." He turned back toward her. "Why did you get me this stuff?" She asked suspiciously.

"We're going to be stuck here for a few days together. I'd rather you not stink up the place."

"If you let me go you wouldn't have to worry about it." She responded.

"Trust me, I can't wait to get rid of you." As he finished, "get rid of you," he saw the fear flash across Clarke's face and was ashamed. He didn't mean it that way but he couldn't blame her for being terrified. "We'll eat in 30 minutes." He left the room.

CLARKE

After Blake left the room Clarke began analyzing the situation. She wanted to believe that he wanted to help her but she was also afraid he might be trying to trick her into compliance to make things easier for himself. She also noticed that when he had handed her the bag of ice his knuckles were scraped up. Had he been roughing someone up? It made her uneasy.

Clarke emptied the bags onto the bed, there were two pairs of gray sweatpants in medium and large sizes, three soft t-shirts in different colors, all with multiple sizes, a bag of white athletic socks, a large sweatshirt, a toothbrush, toothpaste, a brush, and deodorant. In the bottom of the bag were three packages of underwear in different sizes.

Why did he buy me clothes? Clarke wondered. Did he actually care what happened to me? Or does he want me to change so he can burn my clothes and get rid of evidence?

Her mind was spinning. She wanted to change but she felt dirty and wished she had actually considered a shower earlier when Blake had mentioned it. She had just been caught off guard.

What was she going to do? How was she going to get out of this?

After a few minutes of debating she decided to change, she was exhausted and the thought of loose clothes seemed comforting after the day she'd had.

. . .

When Blake returned 30 minutes later he looked disappointed.

"Were the t-shirts not to your liking?" He asked.

"They're fine. I just can't change my shirt while this shackle is around my wrist." She held out her wrist as proof.

He rolled his eyes and walked over to her. He pulled her wrist toward him to inspect the shackle, she took a deep breath in, taking in his smell. The smell was overpowering and she hated that she loved it.

He stopped before unlocking the chain to look at her. "Mind your manners, Princess." He warned her. Then he released the chain from her wrist.

For a moment, they stood staring at one another.

"What are you waiting for?" Clarke asked annoyed. "Leave so I can finish changing." She made a shooing motion with her hands.

Blake stood his ground. "I'm not leaving you alone unsecured. Just hurry up so we can have dinner."

She gasped with disgust. "You're going to watch me change?"

Blake rolled his eyes. "Stop flattering yourself, Princess. Do you want to change before dinner or not?"

Fuck it. Clarke thought and she pulled her shirt over her head and gave Blake an angry glare as she stood in her black lace bra. He looked unamused and gave her an annoyed sigh of impatience.

She grabbed the medium, black t-shirt from the bed and put it on. It hung slightly loose over her which felt good after being in her jeans and tank top all day. Finally, she unclasped her bra and removed it out from under her shirt, dropping it onto the bed. It felt amazing to have it off and she let out a sigh of relief.

Blake shook his head and smiled. He took a step back and motioned for her to walk to the kitchen. She obliged.

He had her sit down at the table but she was relieved because he didn't tie her to anything.

"Don't try anything stupid." He warned her.

He pulled out some chicken and salad from the refrigerator along with a bottle of Stella Artois.

"Beer?" He asked.

"Why not." Clarke said casually, but she was thankful to get something that could help calm her nerves.

He popped the beer open and then grabbed another one for himself. Placing the food and drinks on the table he sat down across from Clarke.

For a few minutes they sat in silence, drinking their beers and picking at their meals. Neither seemed to have a big appetite.

Clarke broke the silence, "Blake?" His eyes met hers and she had to hold her composure. There was something about him that made her unsteady.

"Tell me, how does someone get into organized crime?" She asked condescendingly.

Blake licked his bottom lip, seeming to take the time to measure his answer. "Like I said before, not everyone grows up with a trust fund."

"Yes, believe it or not, I do have some touch with reality. But what I don't understand is that I've met people who have come from nothing, but they worked their way into a better life through legal routes."

"Good for them." Blake feigned compliment. "My guess is that they had parents. I would also bet they weren't raising a baby sibling at age eight." He said matter-of-factly.

Clarke raised an eyebrow.

"You want to know how someone goes the illegal route? My Mom was an addict, she was barely around. I never met my Dad. I raised my sister from birth starting at age 8 and provided for her any way I could. There aren't any good legal routes in that kind of situation."

For a moment, Clarke felt bad for the guy, but then she remembered she was his hostage.

"Boo hoo." She said angrily. "You're not a child anymore. Your sister isn't either. You hurt people. You kidnapped me. You're going to kill me!" Clarke's voice began to raise as all her worries spewed out of her mouth.

Blake set his beer down and kept his voice level, "You have a wild imagination. I don't hurt people."

She lifted her head toward the hand that rested around his beer. "You don't hurt people huh?" She was referring to his knuckles. "Are those scrapes from some other innocent girl your buddies picked up today?"

Blake looked down at his knuckles which were cut up from beating Murphy earlier but didn't say anything.

His silence made Clarke nervous. Clarke stood up, becoming more panicky. Blake stood up too.

"Clarke, listen to me. It's been a long day, just take a deep breath and sit down."

Clarke grabbed her beer bottle and slammed it down on the table breaking the end off. She held it between them, the sharp glass aimed at Blake.

"You bet your ass it's been a long day. I will not let you hurt me." She stated.

"Jesus Clarke, I am not going to hurt you. I want to help you!" He confessed, walking around the table to get closer to her.

"Stay back!" She warned as she began taking steps away from him. "You kidnapped me, you made me change so you could get rid of my clothes as evidence, you're going to kill me when Miller is released."

Blake took another step toward her and she backed herself further into the room. "Clarke, that isn't true. I was just as surprised as you that you were taken. I got you fresh clothes so you'd be comfortable. I won't let anything happen to you." He stated calmly trying to talk her down. "Just put down the bottle and let's talk."

She laughed. "You're a convincing liar, I'll give you that. But you know what gave you away? You didn't even blink earlier today when you saw what that psychopath Murphy did to me."

Now Blake was angry. He charged toward her backing her into the wall. He held his hands up to show her his knuckles. "What do you think this is from Clarke?!" He yelled. "I saw what that piece of shit did to you and I nearly killed him for it!"

Clarke was now up against the wall, eyes wide. Was he telling the truth? She lowered the bottle from between them and dropped it onto the floor beside her. She slid down the wall and sat on the floor putting her head in her hands. Did he really care about her?

Blake sat down on the floor against the wall next to her so close that their shoulders touched. They sat breathing in silence for a moment. Clarke's head was spinning but the feeling of Blake's shoulder against hers was grounding. For the first time all day she felt hope.

"Clarke," Blake began but she cut him off. Grabbing him she pulled him to her and locked her mouth on his kissing him with the desperation that she'd felt all day, he readily accepted and kissed her back with a hungry passion.

She loved the taste of beer in his mouth and she slid her tongue along his, losing herself in the kiss. Her hands moved down to his chest feeling the hard muscle underneath his shirt.

He moved to his knees in front of her, and then pulled her up to a standing position. He pinned her up against the wall and he began to kiss down her neck to her collar bone. She grabbed his t-shirt to pull him closer, moving her hips up to meet his, but he suddenly stopped and pushed himself away from her, breathing heavily.

"Fuck, Princess."

She snapped back to reality. Fuck.

What the fuck had just happened?

Blake walked away from her which made her nervous. Was he mad? He crossed the room, opened the refrigerator, and grabbed two more beers. He opened them and brought them back over to Clarke.

"Try not to use this one as a weapon." He said sarcastically handing it to her he took a large swig of his own.

Clarke accepted the beer and chugged the entire thing. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand she couldn't look at Blake, she was too embarrassed about what she'd done.

Was this what Stockholm Syndrome is? She thought that could be the only reason she was so attracted to the man that was holding her hostage. It didn't seem real, just animalistic. Maybe it was some weird survival instinct?

Blake looked her up and down which made her stomach twist. He licked his lips again and she wanted his mouth on hers.

"I meant what I said earlier. I am not going to hurt you. So stop playing games with me."

She realized that he thought she was playing him like she'd tried to earlier. She wanted to take his hand but resisted the urge.

"How will you help me?" She asked wanting answers.

"I don't know yet. But I do know that I won't let them touch a hair on your head again. I can't let you go until Miller is released though."

"As soon as Miller is released Roan will order you to kill me. Or he'll come do it himself."

"I'll handle Roan." He looked upset and was biting his lip in thought.

"What's wrong?" Clarke asked.

"Listen. Once you're out . . . I know you don't like these guys . . . sometimes I don't like them. But they are the only family I've had outside of my sister. Roan has been like an older brother to me since I was 8, he helped me start making money to keep a roof over my sister's head, gave me an advance so that we'd be set. I know you will be able to do whatever you want once you're home, you have our names, you can turn us in or send us on the run. But if there is any part of you that might be willing to let it go and forget this ever happened . . . well, let's just say I'd owe you big time."

Clarke looked at him, "You let me go, I'll let it go." But she wasn't sure if she meant it.


A/N: Whoa whoa whoaaaa things are HEATING UP! It will be bedtime soon in the Bunker for Bellarke, I wonder how that sleeping arrangement will work out . . . ;)

IMPORTANT REMINDER: If you are enjoying the story and would like me to continue writing it please follow and review so I know you guys want more! Thanks!