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Chapter 19
Clarke sat at his desk, her hands tracing the grain of the wood- her eyes caressing every knick and scratch marring the oaken finish. Miller sat before her filling her in on the movements of Finn Collins.
She'd been working at the shop for the past week, her med courses forgotten. She couldn't concentrate while she was there anyway. She saw very little of Octavia, but she had Lincoln so Clarke shoved the guilt to the back of her mind.
"Switch out. I want Wick here this week. Send Johnson instead", Clarke said as she looked up.
"Whatever you say Boss", Miller said nodding.
"How are things here? Lynx making any waves", she asked.
"No, but I know one of his seconds. He was a friend of…"
Miller hesitated. He'd noticed that Clarke never mentioned Bellamy by name. She just said him or he. He suspected that she couldn't bring herself to form the syllables.
"You can say his name, Miller", came her soft reply.
He nodded, "Bellamy saved his hide when a collection went wrong."
"Good, get in touch with him. I want to know what that rat's doing."
Miller smiled, the Princess was a lot better at this than he would've ever dreamed she'd be. He watched her as a knock sounded on the office door, her eyes sparking in frustration.
"What is it Murphy", she practically yelled.
The redheaded troublemaker had become her watchdog. It surprised Miller how quickly Murphy had bowed to Clarke's will, but he could see it in the other man's eyes- the same thing he saw in his own, respect.
The door opened, revealing Murphy with Lincoln standing beside him.
"What are you doing here", Clarke asked, a cold edge to her voice.
"I came to check on you. When did you plan to tell Octavia that you'd taken over this place? She's worried sick, and you know that he wouldn't want that", Lincoln said harshly.
"Leave us", the blonde said, her voice quiet and her eyes glowing with intensity.
She waited until the door was shut firmly before she rose from her chair.
"You are supposed to stay with her", she hissed.
"She needs you too, Clarke. She needs your comfort and your friendship", Lincoln pleaded.
"I have nothing to give! So, you comfort her and placate her. I'm needed here", Clarke ground out icily.
Lincoln looked at her then and realized that the woman before him was coping the best she could. She looked exhausted, but her hands didn't tremble and her gaze didn't waver.
"Clarke, I know it's been hard. You have to face her sometime."
"You can't mourn someone if you distance yourself", Clarke murmured, "Please tell O that I'm thinking of her, and that she'll soon have an extra bedroom. I'm taking over his apartment."
Lincoln stared at her, everything falling into place. She was afraid to lose anyone else, and she was going to shove everyone out of her life- building walls so high no one could scale them.
"Clarke, you can't…"
"You're free, Lincoln. I have the right and the authority to terminate your membership. Consider it a premature wedding gift. Don't come back to the shop again", she said tiredly.
"Clarke, I'm not going to let you do this", Lincoln growled.
"You don't have a choice. Murphy", she called, "Please escort our guest to his car."
Lincoln watched as Murphy simply stood there, his face an impassive mask ready to act at her command.
"I'll leave, Clarke, but shutting people out won't make it any easier. It will only make you lonely."
"Thank you for your concern. John."
Murphy stepped forward, directing Lincoln from the office. After they were out of earshot, Lincoln turned to the man beside him.
"How is she doing?"
"She's coping. Got us all scrambling for information on Collins and Cage. I think she intends to bring them down, even if they take her down with them", Murphy answered solemnly.
"Why do you follow her", Lincoln asked suddenly.
He watched as Murphy's features softened, and turned thoughtful.
"We can tell she cares, just like Bellamy did. She's tough; I watched her go toe to toe with Lynx and not even flinch. She deserves our respect if for no other reason than her being the Boss' girl."
Lincoln nodded. He'd suspected something like that, but he'd wanted to hear it straight from Murphy.
"Take care of her", Lincoln said when they reached his black Challenger.
Murphy almost looked offended, "Wouldn't think of doing anything else."
Clarke waited around that afternoon for Wick to come back from surveillance duty. She debriefed him, and then told him he would have the week off.
"Thanks Boss, but I think I'll come into the shop. I don't have much of a life outside this place."
"Sure, whatever you want Wick", she'd answered with a smile.
She watched him go, and then gathered her things. She drove back to the apartment, her mind running in ten different directions. She had to gather up some stuff, and then she planned to spend her first night in his apartment.
Clarke came to a stop, taking a deep fortifying breath before she made her way inside the building. When she reached the apartment she found Lincoln and O sitting at the island, staring at her as she walked through the door.
"Hey, Clarke", O said with a smile.
"Hey, O. I'm just dropping by to pick up a few things before heading out", Clarke said, her smile forced.
"Sure, I left the extra key on your nightstand."
Clarke found herself flashing a genuine smile, even if it was small.
"Thank you. I promise to come visit. How about we have dinner this weekend?"
Octavia's face brightened, "Sure, that's sounds great! How are classes?"
"Uh, I'm not going anymore", Clarke said.
"What do you mean you're not going? What are you doing all day long? I just assumed you'd thrown yourself into your studies", Octavia said in confusion.
"She's thrown herself into something alright", Lincoln grumbled.
Clarke glared in his general direction before turning back to O, "I took over the Silver Fox."
"You what?! You're a Grounder! I cannot believe you would do something so stupid!"
"Yes", the blonde said quietly, and then turning tortured eyes on Lincoln, "This is why I didn't tell you."
"Clarke, I'm not done! You can't seriously be doing this", Octavia said rushing after her.
"I've made up my mind, O."
"Bellamy would be furious with you", Octavia spat.
Clarke froze, a sob rising in her throat at the sound of his name. She pushed it down, turning to face her friend.
"I don't want to fight with you, Octavia. It's done and now that I think about it, I've got some business to take care of this weekend so I won't be able to make it to dinner."
Clarke walked into her room, leaving a sobbing Octavia in her wake. She'd tried to be there, tried to be what Lincoln expected, but she couldn't do it. She packed her suitcase, and stuffed his clothes in a duffle bag he'd left in her closet.
The apartment was silent as she walked away, but she had no way to undo what had been done. She had been right, the only way to end the pain was to distance herself from her past, the past they'd shared.
When she reached his apartment building, the cold had seeped back into her bones. The numbness was comforting, feeling nothing meant she didn't feel the pain of his absence quite as keenly.
Clarke made her way to his small apartment, unlocking the door and flipping on the light. Everything was just as he'd left it- a newspaper on the kitchen table, shirt thrown over the back of the couch, and his running shoes sitting by the front door.
She felt tears well up in her eyes at the sight and the smell of his cologne that haunted her waking moments as well as her dreams. She locked the deadbolt, hooking the chain and then heading to the bedroom.
Clarke placed her suitcase at the end of the bed, too tired to unpack. She pulled on a pair of shorts and one of his white t-shirts before crawling under the dark blue comforter.
Her gaze fell on his nightstand where she found a framed picture of her and Octavia in their caps and gowns from high school graduation. Next to it, in a smaller frame, was her own image.
Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, her lips were curved in a wide smile, she was covered in flour, and her nose was dotted with a speck of chocolate batter.
It was Friday night, and instead of being out with Octavia she was pouring over cake recipes. The house was empty except for her. Bellamy's twenty-first birthday was on the very next day and she wanted to have a special cake ready for him.
He was out of town and wouldn't be back until tomorrow afternoon. So, she decided to make a chocolate cake from scratch. Which explained why she was sitting at the kitchen table, cookbooks spread out before her.
Clarke had dropped by the grocery store on her way home from school to pick up what she would need, and now all she had to do was decide on a recipe. She finally found one she thought he would like and started to work.
It was getting late, but O wouldn't be home for a few hours yet. She gathered her ingredients, lining the packages and boxes up on the counter where she could easily read the labels. She pulled down a mixing bowl and measuring cups, and then pre-heated the oven. She checked her watch, eleven-thirty. If she hurried she could be done by one o'clock.
Clarke had just measured out a cup of flour, pouring it carefully into the sifter, when the front door banged open. She jumped, white dust flying everywhere and covering everything.
She turned at a very masculine chuckle, her wide eyes moving to the kitchen entrance. Her breath caught at the sight of him. He was wearing the leather jacket she and O had bought him for Christmas, the white shirt underneath standing out against his tan skin.
"What are you doing here", she squeaked.
"Uh, in case you forgot, Princess, I live here", he said, his grin never faltering.
"I know that! I thought you were coming home tomorrow", Clarke said, her features still registering her surprise.
"What's the matter, Clarke, got a secret boyfriend hidden somewhere", he joked.
However, when she failed to answer his smile faded replaced by a dark scowl.
"Where is he, Princess", Bellamy growled.
Clarke suddenly found the whole thing hilarious, and burst out laughing. This only managed to deepen his scowl, his angry steps bringing him to stand before her. He took her wrists in his calloused hands, his eyes searching her face.
"Tell. Me. Where. He. Is", he growled.
Clarke managed to get her giggles under control, "Bell, there's no secret boyfriend. The only secret is that I was trying to bake you a surprise birthday cake!"
She watched as his eyes widened in shock, and then the room rumbled with his deep laughter.
"You really had me scared there for a minute, Princess."
"I never would have guessed it", Clarke retorted with a grin.
She looked down at their joined hands, her cheeks heating at the warmth radiating from his palms.
"Now that you're here you can help", she said cheekily.
Bellamy grinned, "I'd love to."
They spent the better part of an hour working on the cake, and getting more of the ingredients on each other than in the bowl. When the chocolate pastry finally made it into the over, Clarke turned to Bellamy with a sigh.
"We did it", she grinned.
She was met with the sight of his brown eyes dancing with mirth, his gaze intent on her face. His scrutiny made her uncomfortable, and she began to squirm.
"What? Do I have something on my face", she asked with a quirk of her brow.
"Yep, but don't wipe it off. I want to get a picture", Bellamy chuckled before he raced off to grab his camera.
Clarke stood in the middle of the kitchen, rolling her eyes to the ceiling at his silliness. However, she didn't clean her face, she just waited.
When he came back, his face was split with the widest grin. She found it infectious, her own lips curving to match his. She posed with her hands on her hips, her head cocked to the side.
The camera flashed, and she watched as Bellamy stared at the screen his smile softening. Then he laid it down, coming to stand before her. He reached over and wet a towel under the warm water.
"Thank you, Princess, for making my birthday special", Bellamy said as he gently cleaned the flour and batter from her face.
"It's technically not your birthday yet, Bell", she smirked.
"I know, but you could have gone out with O tonight instead of staying home and baking me a cake."
Clarke smiled up at him before wrapping him in a hug, "You're special to me, Bellamy Blake, so there's definitely no other place Id' rather be than right here baking your birthday cake."
He'd hugged her back then they'd gone to watch his favorite movie, waiting for the cake to finish baking.
Clarke buried her face in his pillow, her eyes filling with tears. If she closed them she could almost hear his laughter, see his soft brown eyes, and feel his strong arms around her.
She fell asleep, dreaming of the man she loved- the last man she would ever love.
Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me what you thought! :)
Wright: Thanks for the review! Hang in there, and I promise a happy ending! :) Clarke's revenge is definitely coming!