Bellamy supposed he could ask himself how the hell he ended up in these situations, but the answer was always going to be the same.
Octavia.
It had been eight-year-old Octavia when he spent two days banging random pieces of wood together because his little sister promised all her friends he could build them a lemonade stand.
("Bell, you hafta do this! Or else they won't like me and I'll have no one to play with all summer.")
And thirteen-year-old Octavia when he'd had to spend one day of his precious three-day pass at her middle-school because she'd told the principal that her big brother would be happy to speak to all the classes about life in the military.
("Why is this a big deal? Aren't you supposed to talk it up so they'll wanna join up when they get older? Mr. Jackass, uh, I mean Mr. Jackman, has this weird idea that I'm some kind of troublemaker, so I really need to build up some brownie points, Bell. Just in case.")
He hadn't dared ask in case of what, but had instead just shown up in his uniform at the appointed hour and told the kids everything he knew about life in the military. Which had mostly been about basic training, because at that point he hadn't yet deployed. Octavia was lucky it hadn't been the following year, after he'd come back from Afghanistan, because there wasn't enough big-brother guilt in the world to make him talk about that shit.
Then there'd been 17-year-old Octavia, who promised her bestie Hannah Fox that Bellamy would take her to their senior prom after Hannah's boyfriend dumped her the week before.
("Bell! She's crying her eyes out in my room, and I had to say something to make her feel better. And anyway, how can I possibly have fun at prom if I know she's home, miserable, crying into her new dress? Whaddya mean, you'll look like a perv? Hannah's 18, and you're only 22, for fuck's sake!")
In the end, Bellamy had given in… and then barely made it out of the night with his self-respect intact. Hannah, who he would swear had never before looked at him as anything other than Octavia's slightly scary older brother, had somehow, over the course of just one evening, developed some kind of weird fascination with him.
When flirty had given way to handsy, and then moved swiftly along to clingy, he'd known he had to get them out of there before things went from awkward to disastrous. He'd finally told Hannah with as much faux regret as he could muster that his "war wound" was acting up and they'd have to leave.
"What war wound?" Octavia had hissed, but desisted when he muttered that what the hell was going on because Hannah was all over him, after which she'd admitted that Hannah may have pre-gamed a bit to calm her nerves and maybe she'd overdone it.
"You think?"
Bellamy couldn't remember ever being quite so pissed at his sister.
Things had only gotten worse when Hannah threw up all over herself on the way home. As soon as they arrived, he'd quickly escorted her up the walk, shoving her as gently as possible through her front door before skedaddling back to his truck in relief.
Talk about no good deed going unpunished.
"That's it, O!" he'd told her the next day. "I'm done. Don't ask me for any more of these crazy favors."
And for a long time, she hadn't.
Maybe because she'd been too busy with school to have time to conjure up any of her usual escapades. Octavia had enrolled at the only school their mother had been able to afford, the local community college, and Aurora Blake had lived just long enough to see her daughter become a fully-trained paramedic before succumbing to the cancer she'd fought for years.
As they dealt with the grief of their mother's passing, Bellamy could at least be happy that his sister had found her niche, and loved her job working the ambulance for the local fire department.
Meanwhile, Bellamy used the funds from his G.I. Bill, supplemented by a part-time job, to earn a bachelor's degree from Ark City College. A teaching position at the middle school had followed (the same one Octavia had attended… but thankfully with a new principal), and he was currently working nights and summers on the required master's degree.
All of which meant that for several years he'd been safe from requests for participation in any more of Octavia's hare-brained ideas.
The biggest problem with his busy schedule, Bellamy had eventually realized as he ran from home to gym to middle school to grad school classes, was that he was too busy to make any friends, let alone have even a minimal social life. While he liked his colleagues, they were all at least middle-aged, and at thirty years old he wasn't about to hang out with them.
There was Miller, of course, the longtime buddy that Bellamy had strongly supported when he was struggling with coming out back in high school. They'd enlisted in the army together and had remained close friends while Bellamy started his career in education and Miller joined the Ark City Police Department.
"I'm subverting expectations," he'd told Bellamy with a grin. "And expanding the department's queer quotient."
So far, things were going well for Miller, and he was happy with his chosen profession. But it was also the kind of job that had him working odd hours, and left him only the occasional night here and there to socialize with Bellamy.
So out of sheer boredom, Bellamy had found himself falling in more and more with Octavia's social group.
At first it had just been her dragging him to the Dropship Bar where her pals liked to hang out.
("Jesus, Bell! You gotta get the hell out of your place once in a while before you turn into a fucking hermit.")
Monty Green was usually there, and Jasper Jordan, and a few other of Octavia's high school buddies, like Emori Woodward.
(But never her erstwhile bestie, Hannah Fox, who had somehow developed an aversion to both Blakes after the prom fiasco. To Bellamy's everlasting relief.)
The Dropship was owned by Emori's boyfriend, the uber-snarky John Murphy, and Bellamy found the guy amusing in a grating sort of way.
Eventually the gang expanded, permanently adding Monty's girlfriend Harper and occasionally supplemented by one or another of Octavia's casual friends from college or work. After Bellamy got to know the others better, he started bringing Miller along whenever he was free. The circle was completed when Miller began to date Octavia's ER doctor friend, Eric Jackson, and Bellamy found himself a permanent member of his little sister's friend group.
He never would have believed it, but against all the odds he was enjoying himself. It was all easy and casual — bar nights and game nights and movie nights — and involved little in the way of commitment from him. He could show up whenever he felt like it and always be assured of a warm welcome.
He had only one firm rule: it didn't matter whether she knew them from high school or college or work, but any woman who could be considered "Octavia's friend" was, for Bellamy, strictly off-limits.
Yes, he knew that her friends were now adults, and in the grand scheme of things might be considered "appropriate" for him to flirt with or even date. But he couldn't get past the memory of Hannah Fox and her clingy hands and pre-gamed breath. The whole thing had led to Octavia losing a friend and Bellamy feeling like shit, and he wasn't about to let that happen again.
Not that that ever stopped the women Octavia brought around from trying to cosy up to him. In fact, some nights it felt like they never let up, with their flirtatious smiles and their "casual" brushes up against him. But Bellamy always kept it strictly friendly. And if some of them were more persistent than others, and he occasionally had to resort to less "friendly" tactics, giving him the reputation of being grumpy and stand-offish, and even a little bit of an asshole, then so be it.
("What the hell did you say to Bree, Bell? She's totally pissed off! Could you try to be a little nicer to my friends?")
But Bellamy had only shrugged. He knew when to take a step back. And if he felt so inclined, there were always other attractive women around to hit on. Ones that had no connection to Octavia.
He'd been adhering without a hitch to his cardinal rule for more than a year when Octavia showed up at the Dropship one Friday night with an unknown female in tow.
Small, slender, with a fall of wavy blonde hair, the first thing Bellamy noticed about her was that she didn't sport the perfectly-made-up look that some women adopted when they got ready for a night out. Instead, she had a slightly dazed look, as though she wasn't quite sure why she was there at all.
And yet… despite a complete lack of the "ready to party" vibe that most people exuded when they arrived at the Dropship on a Friday night… there was something about the woman, some undefinable aura, and Bellamy found himself watching closely from his perch at the bar as she removed her coat and sat at a table.
He felt a spurt of excitement bubble up inside him… until he remembered.
Shit! She'd come with Octavia, so anything more than friendliness was verboten. Hadn't he made that rule himself?
Was he actually thinking about breaking it?
Because he couldn't seem to help the unexpected tug of attraction.
As soon as he could, he pulled Octavia aside to ask as casually as possible, "So who's that, O? I don't think you've brought her around before."
"That's Clarke Griffin," Octavia murmured quietly. "She's an ER doc I see at the hospital, and she's really great."
Bellamy nodded in what he hoped was a completely offhand way, but Octavia's expression became suddenly serious.
"Listen, Bell, can you for once try to be nice and not a prickly grump? Clarke's kind of having a tough time lately because her girlfriend just broke up with her."
Bellamy blinked. Froze. Her… girlfriend?
He allowed himself give seconds for an ironic, self-deprecating — and totally silent — chuckle, and then did a complete mental recalibration.
"Hey, I'm never a grump to your friends," he protested, but Octavia just rolled her eyes.
"Well, I won't be to Clarke," he promised, leaving Octavia and heading to the table where Clarke was sitting with a drink in front of her, looking slightly forlorn.
"Hi, Clarke" he said, taking the seat across from her and offering her a friendly smile. "I'm Octavia's brother, Bellamy. How'd my sister get you to join this bunch of Friday night crazy people?"
"Oh!"
He watched as she tried to smile, but the effort wasn't completely successful. Of course, if she was coming off a breakup, that wasn't so surprising.
(Not that Bellamy had had many of those, and certainly not for a while now. Lately, he'd hardly had time to date, let alone get involved in a relationship.)
But then she tried again, and this time the effort was more successful.
"Octavia's great. I've known her for a while now and I always look forward to seeing her." Her smile became wry. "Even if she does bring me some pretty sick people. But there's just something so… naturally upbeat about Octavia. And," she huffed a small laugh, "she's also very persuasive."
Bellamy grinned. "Yep, that she is. She's talked me into some crazy shit over the years."
"Yeah? Like what?"
Her interest seemed so genuine that he soon found himself regaling her with tales of the lemonade stand and his stint as a military recruiter. Since those stories finally elicited a real smile, he launched into the prom date fiasco, at the same time wondering if he should have quit while he was ahead.
But she was totally sympathetic.
"Oh, no," she said, when he got to the part about Hannah throwing up in his truck. He watched her struggle not to laugh but it finally burst out of her.
He was amazed at himself. He'd never told that stuff to a single soul, and now here he was, offering up some of his most frustrating and embarrassing moments just to make this unknown woman laugh. And in the process, finally finding some humor in them himself.
"What's so funny?" Octavia asked curiously, coming by just then.
"Oh," Clarke said, "Bellamy was just telling me about your lemonade stand, and, uh, the prom."
"He was, was he?" Octavia grinned. "He usually doesn't find those stories too funny, but maybe he's recovered his sense of humor. Hey, uh, I'm getting more drinks from the bar, Clarke. What'll you have?"
"Oh, I don't know…"
Octavia frowned. "Well, you don't hafta drink if you don't want to, but I hope you weren't thinking about leaving already. I can get you a coke or something, no problem."
Clarke hesitated. "No, I guess I could have another one of these," she said, holding up what looked to Bellamy like a Margarita glass.
"Let me get it," he said.
"What! You're actually springing for drinks?" Octavia's face was the picture of astonishment.
Bellamy shrugged, rising. "Just giving your friend a little extra welcome on her first night here, O. And if you play your cards right, I'll buy you a drink, too."
"I'll take it!" Octavia grinned, plopping into the seat he'd just vacated. "You seem to have a civilizing influence on my brother, Clarke. How'd you manage that?"
Bellamy laughed to himself as he made his way to the bar, not bothering to wait for Clarke's reply.
He spent a lot of that evening talking to Clarke, hearing about her childhood (privileged) and her choice of profession (following in her mother's footsteps.) She was fun to talk to, and beautiful to look at, and after a while she seemed to actually be having a good time.
At the end of the evening, she thanked him for his company.
"Uh… I don't know if Octavia happened to mention it… I mean why she insisted I come out tonight, but, uh…"
Her voice trailed off and she faltered a bit.
Bellamy nodded. No point in denying that he knew.
"Yeah, O said you were coming off a breakup. Sorry about that. I know that can be rough."
"Yeah. And I was afraid… that is, I couldn't deal with, um…"
"People hitting on you? Sure, that makes sense. It's the last thing on your mind."
"Right! But just having a fun, friendly conversation with you, well… that was great. Kind of took my mind off… everything."
"I'm glad. You helped me out, too."
"Yeah? How'd I do that?"
"Well, sometimes, some of O's old high school friends can get a little too, erm, friendly…"
"Oh! Is that why that blonde girl was looking daggers at me all night?"
"Was she?" He sighed. "Yeah, that's Bree. She doesn't seem to want to take no for an answer."
Her eyes swept over him and he got the oddest feeling. Like she was seeing him for the first time.
But then he gave himself an inward shake. She wasn't ever going to see him in the way he might have wanted, but that was okay. Clarke was pleasant and fun and seemed like she'd make a good friend. The first new friend he'd be been enthusiastic about making in quite a while.
"So maybe I'll see you at another of these Friday night bashes," she said, slipping on her coat as she got ready to leave.
"You definitely should come. It's a great way to unwind."
Only moments later, Clarke was out the door, and barely ten seconds after that Octavia was at his side.
"You spent a lot of time talking to Clarke tonight, Bell," she remarked in a tone that sounded very much like she was looking for an explanation.
But he just shrugged and had little to say about it.
"She was nice, O. Friendly. Funny. And best of all… safe."
"Safe? Well, yeah, I suppose she's just had a breakup…"
"Right! So she needed cheering up. And for the first time in weeks I also didn't have to chase Bree away."
Octavia frowned at him. "And did you happen to mention to Clarke that she was a buffer against Bree?"
"Sure, why not? She seemed happy to help."
"I guess that's all right then," Octavia said slowly.
Bellamy couldn't understand her concern. He shrugged. "I don't know why it wouldn't be."
XXXXXXXXXX
The new school year began the Monday after Clarke appeared at the Dropship, and although Bellamy was fried by the end of that first week, just like he was every year, he still found the energy to drag himself out on Friday night. He was a little disappointed when Clarke didn't show up, telling himself it was only because he'd never before been able to just be friends with a woman and that Clarke seemed like a good candidate.
But she was back again the following week.
"Hey, you made it!" He greeted her with a smile, and this time the smile she gave him in return seemed totally genuine.
"Who am I saving you from tonight?" she murmured when he joined her at the table. "I don't see Bree anywhere."
"Nope. I finally had to talk to her about it last week. But, uh… see that brunette over by the bar?" His left eye twitched to indicate who he was talking about. "That's Roma. She's actually an ex and I definitely don't want to go there again…"
Clarke eyed him shrewdly. "Do women often chase after you?"
Bellamy blinked. And blushed. And felt like an asshole. He really hadn't meant to sound that arrogant.
"Well, uh, I'm not sure that chase is exactly the right word…"
But Clarke just laughed, giving him the same once-over that had so disconcerted him a couple of weeks earlier.
"Don't worry about it, Bellamy. It's easy to see why some women might set their sights on you."
Right. Some women. Just not her.
Embarrassed, he quickly changed the subject and they soon found themselves talking about all sorts of things. It felt… easy and relaxed, and Clarke appeared to think so, too.
Clarke came by every Friday after that, and each week she and Bellamy became better friends. Since it seemed like she got along well with everyone, Bellamy eventually invited her to join them for some of their other activities, like game nights and movie nights. They even joined forces one memorable trivia night, even though Clarke's schedule was so exhausting that she rarely went out on week nights. But when he asked her specially to help him beat the current bar trivia champ (who was an asshole!), she smiled indulgently and said, "Okay, just this once." And although they did win, she refused to come again.
"Fridays are tough in the ER," she explained. "I need to get to bed early on Thursday nights."
Meanwhile, after every group event, their friendship seemed to grow even stronger.
And why wouldn't it?
They clearly clicked on a lot of levels, and yet there was none of that uncomfortable tension where you wondered if the person you were talking to really liked you or was just trying to get into your pants. Or alternatively, worried that the nice friendship you'd built might be ruined by some misguided foray into romance. (Or if not romance, then at least sex.)
But there was none of that with Bellamy and Clarke. She didn't want him and he couldn't want her.
He learned how close Clarke was to her family when she disappeared for both the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays, actually taking a couple of weeks off to visit with her family in Polis.
He hadn't even been able to tell her a proper goodbye on that last Friday get-together at the Dropship. He'd been playing pool with Miller when he noticed she was heading out, and he dropped his cue, catching her eye and waving to her to wait up.
But he'd only made it as far as the bar when a very drunk Roma dragged him under some of that plastic mistletoe that Emori had hung up and began kissing him for all she was worth. By the time he managed to push her away and head once again toward the door, Clarke was gone.
Bellamy was embarrassed, recalling that one of his very first conversations with Clarke had been about women chasing after him. But he couldn't be mad at Roma, because he'd known her forever and besides, she was pretty drunk. He'd explain it to Clarke when she got back.
He was surprised by how much he missed Clarke while she was gone, but he supposed that you did miss your friends when they weren't around. Although strangely, when Miller and the doc had had that week-long Caribbean holiday in November, he'd barely even noticed.
Whereas with Clarke, every day she was gone he thought of something he wanted to tell her. An interesting article he'd read, or some crazy thing one of his students had said. Ordinarily he'd think nothing of sending off a text, and it might lead to them going back and forth texting for an hour. Or occasionally, all evening.
Those weeks she was gone, Bellamy pulled out his phone so many times, but then he felt like he shouldn't intrude on her family time.
Clarke still wasn't back by early January when he came down with a really shitty cold. He couldn't help recalling how the last time he'd had a cold, back in late October, Clarke had brought him some home-made soup, and spent all day Saturday playing games with him to keep him from feeling too sorry for himself.
"Is this what's known as a house call these days?" he'd joked, happier to see her than he could have imagined.
Clarke had laughed. "House calls are a thing of the past, my friend. This is called caring about someone. Uh, being a caring friend, I mean," she'd hurriedly amended, coloring slightly.
But she hadn't needed to clarify because Bellamy knew what was what.
"Well, whatever it is, I'm all for it. I'm happy for both the soup and the company, Clarke. Thanks."
Of course, she hadn't been able to resist doing a little doctoring, taking his temperature when his face got flushed and plying him with over-the-counter cold meds and unending bottles of water.
"Stay hydrated," she'd insisted, right after soundly beating him at Scrabble for the third time.
But a few months later, when another student who didn't know enough to stay home brought him another germy gift, he had to deal with it on his own.
Bellamy didn't like it at all.
"Hey, do you know when Clarke's getting back from Polis?" he cornered Octavia to ask, when Clarke didn't show up at the Dropship the following Friday.
Octavia's hesitation was infinitesimal. "She is back, Bell," she told him finally, "but she has a date tonight."
Bellamy felt himself go rigid from the sheer unexpectedness of it. She was back but hadn't called to let him know? And was on a date with someone he hadn't heard about?
What the hell?
"A date? She… never mentioned to me that she'd met someone new."
Octavia shrugged, eyeing him carefully. "Why would she?"
Bellamy just gaped at her. "What do you mean? Why wouldn't she tell me, O? You know Clarke and I are really good friends. She's kinda like… my best friend."
Octavia repeated the words deliberately. "Your best friend."
Bellamy wondered what fuck was going on with his sister. "Yes! What the hell is wrong with you?"
He knew he sounded a little defensive, but really, Octavia was acting like an asshole.
She sighed. "Okay, I believe you. Anyway, you probably never heard anything about it because it's someone she's known for a long time, an old friend of her family. They reconnected over the holidays."
"Oh."
"Yeah. Finn Something."
Bellamy frowned. "Finn? That's an odd name for a woman."
Octavia gawked at him. "Maybe that's because Finn's a guy."
Bellamy froze. That couldn't be right.
"What? It… it can't be a guy."
"Why the hell not? I'm pretty sure he was a guy when Clarke told me about him this afternoon. Finn Collins! That's it. His family's friends with the Griffins and they've been trying fix Clarke and him up for years. So she went out with him once over the holidays and now he's driving all the way here from Polis to take her out again."
Bellamy was utterly bewildered.
"But… what about the girlfriend who broke up with her last fall?"
Octavia looked at him like he had two heads.
"So what about her? Far as I remember, she was a real bitch who was always trying to run Clarke's life." Octavia frowned. "But she's had boyfriends, too, of course, just… not at the same time. She's definitely a date one person at a time kind of woman."
She gave him a quizzical look. "But you knew all that, right?"
He forced himself to speak. "Sure. Course I did. I just…forgot."
Not by the flicking of an eyelash was Bellamy going to let on that he'd had no idea about any of it.
Suddenly, he couldn't sit there for even one more second. Not when he was only now realizing that Clarke Griffin had so thoroughly friend-zoned him that he'd never even been aware that she dated men, too.
He carefully placed his half-drunk beer on the table and rose, grabbing his jacket from the back of the seat.
"Hey, you know what, O, I'm gonna head out. I'm tired. It's been a tough week…"
"What?!"
"Yeah, so tell everyone I said goodbye, okay? And that I'll see 'em soon."
Octavia nodded vacantly, giving him a look of utter confusion.
It was only a short ride back to his place, but it didn't take him even half that long to figure out what was really bothering him.
In four short months, Clarke Griffin had become the most important person in his world. He craved her company and missed her terribly while she was gone. He'd managed to convince himself it was because Clarke was his best friend, but he knew now that that had been complete bullshit. The real truth was that he wanted her in ways that had nothing at all to do with friendship.
The real truth was that he was in love with her.
It had been easy to lie to himself when he thought there was a good reason she could never return his feelings. But now that he knew differently it was crushingly painful to realize there could be only one reason why she'd never bothered to tell him that she was also into men.
She was into men, she just wasn't into him.
XXXXXXXXXX
It was easier, less painful, to just… stay away. To ease back from the group. Skip the Friday nights at the Dropship, and the movie nights at Octavia's place. Game nights at Monty's.
What the hell was he doing hanging around with all these kids, anyway?
When he still hadn't shown up for anything by the fourth week of January, Miller actually took time from his busy schedule of policing the city and dating the doctor to text him.
what the fuck bellamy u ever gonna show your face again
Bellamy sighed, knowing he'd have to give his oldest friend some kind of answer.
been busy
Short and sweet.
you're always busy but you've never disappeared before should I be worried?
nah I'll see you sometime say hi to the doc
This response had been enough to satisfy Miller, but it didn't work with Octavia. Bellamy had been fobbing off her phone calls and answering her texts with monosyllables for weeks when she finally showed up at his door on the first Saturday in February.
He sighed when he opened the door and saw his sister standing there with a determined look on her face.
"This is a surprise, Octavia…"
"Is it really, Bell?" she said, pushing past him into the room as he shut the door behind her. "You didn't think I'd show up when you flaked out. Again. You promised me you'd finally make it last night, but then you never showed."
"I never promised, O. I said I'd try…"
"Yeah? Well, you obviously didn't try hard enough!"
"What the hell? Turned out I was beat! And why are you so pissed, anyway?"
Octavia fumed silently for a moment, and finally said, "I…uh… I might have promised someone you'd be there."
"Jesus, O! Not another one of your high school pals! I thought we'd been over this."
"Course not, you jackass! It was… Clarke."
For just an instant, Bellamy's breath caught in his throat. But then he remembered that it made no difference.
"Oh, yeah? Clarke showed up for Friday night at the Dropship? She bring her new boyfriend?"
Octavia's eyes narrowed. "No, Bell, she came alone. And Finn was never her boyfriend. She's not even dating him anymore."
"What! Why not?"
There was a sudden heavy thumping in the area of Bellamy's chest, and he had to work hard to remind himself that even though she might not want to date this Finn guy, she hadn't wanted to date him, either.
Octavia shrugged. "I… can't really be sure." She hesitated. "But you could ask her yourself when you come to our Valentine pull tonight."
Bellamy shook his head. "I can't ask her about that." Then he frowned as he focused on that last part. "What the fuck is a Valentine pull?"
"We're doing Secret Valentines this year. So many people were away for the holidays that we couldn't do Secret Santa, so we're doing Secret Valentines instead. We're pulling names tonight and then exchanging gifts on Valentine's Day. It's gonna be great."
She grinned at him. Octavia was nothing if not enthusiastic.
Did she really expect him to be part of this inanity?
"Sounds great, O, but you can do that shit without me."
"C'mon, Bell," she whined, "we need to have enough people."
"Octavia, I know damn well you don't need a certain number of people for those secret gift things."
"Maybe," she said, her tone wheedling, "but it'll be so much better if there's a lot of us. Otherwise someone could end of up getting their boyfriend or something and that'd be a drag!"
He frowned. What possible difference could one person make?
"Please, Bell! I haven't asked you for a favor in a long, long time. And besides, you haven't shown up for anything lately," she complained, suddenly half-pleading, half-annoyed. "So you hafta come through for me here."
And that was all it took.
Shit! It was the damn lemonade stand all over again.
He sighed. "So this is gonna be like a Secret Santa? I could… pull anyone's name?"
"Right! Then you get them a Valentine-themed gift. Something cheap. And that's it!"
She grinned suddenly, perhaps sensing imminent victory. "So you'll do it?"
"Yeah, I suppose," he said, capitulating reluctantly. "I'll come to your place tonight for the name pulling, but I'm not promising to stick around for the movie. Especially if it's one of your sugary romcom… oof!"
Octavia had thrown herself at him, nearly knocking the wind out of him.
"Thanks, Bell! I knew you wouldn't let me down. We're starting a little early tonight, so come at seven. And for god's sake, don't forget the beer!"
She was out the door before he could say another word.
He rolled his eyes, scarcely believing that Octavia had talked him into yet another of her crazy favors, especially one that sounded so ridiculous. But then he pictured himself gifting Murphy with the Stealing Hearts and Blasting Farts t-shirt he'd seen online somewhere. Or maybe he'd pick Miller's name, and get him some of those heart-covered boxers he'd seen at the drugstore. He smirked, wondering if the doc would like them.
Yeah, he supposed it could be fun. In a bizarrely Octavia sort of way.
All day long, as he forced himself to follow his usual Saturday routine of laundry, marketing, and cleaning, Bellamy tried to ignore the fact that the night would also bring him his first glimpse of Clarke Griffin in more than month. Still, by the time he was picking up Octavia's requested beer that night, his palms had begun to sweat.
This is stupid! I've spent hours talking to this woman. She brought me soup and took my temp a jillion times when I was sick. She's never been anything but nice to me.
But she also had no interest in him either romantically or sexually, and Bellamy could no longer pretend to himself that that didn't hurt like hell.
I can always bail out after we pull names, he reminded himself as he walked up the last few steps to Octavia's apartment. If I have to.
Bellamy wasn't the first one there… but then he hadn't planned to be. Much better to get lost in the crowd. Of course, he hadn't planned on making a grand entrance, either, but with Murphy around there was little chance he could escape.
"Bellamy Blake, as I live and breathe! What the hell, I was sure you were fucking dead!"
"Hey, yours isn't the only place in town to drink, Murphy."
Murphy slapped his hand over his heart. "Now that cuts to the quick…"
"Shut up, John," Emori said good-naturedly. "Bellamy can drink wherever he wants. But it is nice to see you," she added, giving him a smile.
"You, too, Emori," he said.
And as he spoke to Emori, as he smiled at her, he worked hard not to let his eyes wander, not to flick them here and there until…
There she was, tucked into the corner of Octavia's couch, gazing up at him a little apprehensively. When he caught her eye she gave him a tentative smile, and Bellamy had to physically restrain himself from rushing across the room and pulling her off the couch and into his arms.
He was almost trembling with relief.
Clarke was here, and she seemed happy to see him. Maybe if he was careful to keep his feelings to himself, they could resume their once-vibrant friendship without her ever figuring out that he was in love with her.
Octavia interrupted his thoughts, grabbing the beer from him and shoving it into the fridge.
"Okay! You're the last, Bell, so go sit down. There's room on the couch. Let's pull names before we start the movie."
And there was indeed room on the couch. Right next to Clarke.
"Hey," he said as he parked himself beside her.
"Hey, yourself," she said softly. "Long time, no see."
"Yeah," he shrugged. "I've, uh, I've been kind of busy."
The lie was so blatant that Bellamy fully expected his nose to start growing any second. Either that, or for Clarke to call him on his bullshit.
But neither of those things happened.
Instead, she just smiled a little brighter and said, "Yeah, that's what Octavia said."
As they gazed at one another, he suddenly found it difficult to breathe. She looked so fucking beautiful and he'd missed her so damn much.
How the hell had he stayed away so long?
"Clarke," he began a little breathlessly, but that was as far as he got before Octavia unceremoniously shoved a bowl under his nose.
"Here, you pick first, Bellamy."
But when he looked down at the bowl, instead of the folded slips he expected, there were small sealed envelopes.
He frowned at her in confusion. "Envelopes?"
"Yeah, because I don't want any speculating. No hints or other bullshit to give away who your Valentine is. So pick an envelope, but you can't open it up to see who you got until you get home."
"Jesus, Octavia! Do we really need this extra layer of bullshit?"
"You know what, Murphy?" she said, twisting her body to get right in his face. "I knew you'd be the one to make a big fucking deal about this. Yeah, we need the extra bullshit, so just shut the fuck up."
She pivoted back to Bellamy.
"Pick, Bell, so we can get this the hell over with and get to the movie."
"Right."
He plucked an envelope from the top of the pile and quickly passed the bowl to Clarke.
The whole thing didn't take long, and soon Octavia was queueing up her favorite romcom, When Harry Met Sally.
"Friends to lovers is my favorite trope," she informed them, passing around bowls of popcorn and bottles of beer. Surprisingly, they all settled in to watch a movie they'd probably all seen many times before.
Bellamy told himself that this was his chance to leave. He'd helped Octavia out with her gift exchange and now he could go home. But then Clarke's hand brushed his as she reached for the popcorn and he knew he wasn't going anywhere. That if he could, he'd stay there next to her forever.
As much as Octavia tried to shush them, the group's usual rude comments formed an informal soundtrack to the movie, although neither Bellamy nor Clarke had much to say. When that movie ended, Octavia queued up the next selection, You've Got Mail.
Apoarently it was an all-Meg-Ryan evening.
The men groaned and the women sighed, but this time Bellamy gave no thought to leaving.
"So… how have you been?" he ventured quietly to Clarke when Octavia stopped the movie for a few minutes to refill the snack bowls.
She smiled at him. "Good. Yeah, I mean, okay. But, I've, uh, I've missed you…"
"Quiet, everyone, here we go," Octavia said, shouting them all down, while Bellamy sat in a near-stupor, wondering if Clarke had really just said that she missed him.
He'd managed to watch the first movie, but now there wasn't a chance in hell he could focus on anything but the woman whose thigh was pushed up against his.
"Can I… give you a lift home?" he asked, when the film finally ended. Trying to keep the hope out of his voice.
She shook her head. "Octavia remembered I don't like to drive at night so she invited me to stay over."
He grinned. "What? Like a pajama party?" Octavia had loved those as a kid.
Clarke laughed. "Yeah, the grownup version. No pillow fights."
He left soon after, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks, certain that he could find a way to get his relationship with Clarke back on its old footing. He just had to remember the boundaries.
It wasn't until he was getting ready for bed that Bellamy recalled the small sealed envelope. He pulled it out of his pocket with smile, wondering if he'd after all get to buy the stupid t-shirt or the heart boxers.
The first thing he pulled from the envelope was a list of Octavia's "rules" for the exchange. Everything had to be Valentine-themed, but "no boring traditional shit" like flowers or candy. And they were in no case to spend more than twenty bucks. Okay. And if anyone had happened to pull their own boyfriend/girlfriend, they should let Octavia know right away.
Finally, in the bottom of the envelope, was that folded-up piece of paper that Bellamy had expected in the first place. And when he opened it and looked down at the name, he told himself he should have known.
There, written in Octavia's bold capitals, was his Secret Valentine.
CLARKE.
XXXXXXXXXX
Both Murphy's t-shirt and Miller's boxers would have come in under the twenty-dollar limit, but somehow Bellamy could think of nothing that would do for Clarke.
The first thing was… he couldn't bring himself to buy her a gag gift. No rudely-worded t-shirts or heart-covered socks. Nor could he stand to get her anything as banal as a mug, however sweet and Valentine-y the saying.
He scoured the internet without success, and then drove to the mall. And while he found a really nice looking solid-gold heart pendant on a delicate chain, the cost was nearer $120 than $20.
He had a feeling Clarke would have loved it but Octavia would never let him get away with it.
Ditto the red cashmere sweater he found in a boutique.
Shit! How the fuck was he ever going to find a gift for Clarke for twenty dollars that he could actually stand to give her? This was a woman he was desperately in love with, but under the circumstances he might never again have a chance to give her a gift. So it had to be something special.
It had to be perfect.
By the end of the week he was no nearer a solution, but was at least looking forward to getting to see Clarke that Friday, when his principal reminded him that this was the week he'd signed up to chaperone the middle-school dance. Bellamy sighed in frustration, knowing this was something he couldn't get out of. In fact, most years he enjoyed chaperone duty because it gave him a chance to see his students in another element.
It wasn't their fault that this year their teacher was absurdly lovesick.
He called Octavia immediately to let her know.
"I'm not disappearing again, O, I promise. I signed up for this in September and I can't get out of it."
"I believe you, Bell. But… you'll be around next Friday, right? Because that's Valentine's Day."
"Course. We doing it at the Dropship?"
"Yep. Murphy's even cleaning out some back room so we can have our own separate party." She laughed. "Not that the Dropship would exactly be the destination of choice for a romantic Valentine's date."
Bellamy grinned into the phone. "I imagine not."
He still had no gift by the night of the dance, and as he watched his students fumble their way through the evening, it came to him suddenly that his social skillset was about on par with all those 12-year-olds awkwardly groping at some girl's waist for the very first time while clumsily shifting from side to side.
It was a depressing thought.
By the middle of the following week Bellamy had become so desperate that he was tempted to go back to the mall and buy the gold necklace despite its cost. But he knew the gift would be over the top and decided to give it one more day.
It was in the teachers' lunchroom on Thursday that inspiration finally struck.
The magazine had been left behind by someone, and in truth it wasn't the kind of reading material he'd normally ever notice. But his head had been so full of hearts lately that the ones on the magazine cover immediately caught his eye. He quickly flipped to the indicated page, and there he found it.
Something special. Something personal. Something Valentine-y. And all for under 20 bucks.
He had to make more than one trip to the store that afternoon because he always seemed to forget something. Then there was the "early failure," and he'd had to start again. In the end, the whole operation took far more time than he knew it should have, and it wasn't until 2 a.m. that — exhausted but elated — he was finally done.
From the back of a closet, he fished out a small box, lining it with foil and carefully filling it with his gift before wrapping it in some plain white paper that he couldn't remember buying. There was no ribbon to make a bow, but since he could hardly keep his eyes open by then Bellamy decided it would have to do.
Just in time, he remembered to reinsert the paper with Clarke's name on it back inside the small envelope, reseal it, and attach it to the box, as per Octavia's instructions.
Making sure the stove was off but leaving the mess in the kitchen, Bellamy tiredly dragged himself to his room, falling across the bed without even removing his clothes.
His last thought before he fell asleep was… she's going to love them.
XXXXXXXXXX
It was only his military training that allowed him to make it through school on so little sleep, but if Mr. Blake's history class was less scintillating than usual that day his students didn't seem to notice. Later, a 2-hour nap restored him enough that he was able to finally clean his kitchen before grabbing his second shower of the day. And his first shave.
After that, he was too edgy to just sit around, so even though he knew it was way too early he decided to head for the Dropship. When he got there, he was relieved to see that Octavia was ahead of him, still clearing out the last of the clutter from Murphy's "party room."
She looked up at him in surprise.
"Wow! I can't believe you're actually early. That your gift?" she asked, eyeing his box.
He'd barely nodded when she yanked it out of his hand and threw it into a large empty carton that was sitting at the end of the table.
"Hey! Don't be tossing that around!"
"What? Is it something breakable?"
"Well, it's not made of glass or anything…"
She shrugged. "Then don't worry about it. It'll be fine."
After she refused his offer of help, he got himself a beer and watched as she set out a variety of Valentine decorations.
"Hey, O, you're really going all out for this thing," he said with a smile.
"Might as well do it right."
The others began to trickle in then, and as each one tossed their gift into the carton he idly wondered what was in all those boxes. The room was pretty small and the gift carton itself kept getting shoved about as the room filled with people.
"We eating soon?" Jasper asked as soon as he arrived, tossing his own contribution into the box.
Octavia nodded. "Yep. We got pizza coming from the place next door, and it should be here any minute…"
But that was moment that Clarke showed up and when she smiled at him Bellamy couldn't think about anything else. She laid her gift box on top of the pile and took a seat across from him.
"Great, we're all here," Octavia said, just as Murphy walked in with a stack of boxed pizzas and carefully placed them onto the table.
"So we eating now?" Murphy wanted to know. "Or are we opening all that shit first?"
"Pizza while it's hot," Jasper insisted. "I'm starving."
Octavia sighed. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Gifts afterwards."
"Awesome," Jasper said, removing the gift carton from the table and tossing it into a corner so they could spread out the pizzas.
Bellamy loved pizza but somehow his appetite was gone tonight. He'd have liked to focus on talking to Clarke, but with all of them sitting around the table a one-on-one conversation would have been impossible.
Still, after two weeks, he felt content just having her there across from him, and if she smiled at him, well, that was a bonus.
After they'd finally demolished a half-dozen pizzas and worked their way through more than one pitcher of beer, Octavia declared that it was time for Secret Valentines.
"I'll choose the first one, and then whoever that belongs to can pick the next one."
The process took more time than it might have because after each gift was opened and examined there came the inevitable guessing as to who the giver was.
Bellamy laughed like hell when he opened his own gift and found those heart-covered boxers from the drugstore. And knew immediately who they were from.
"Thanks, Miller," he said, grinning. "I'll think of you every time I wear them."
Miller just gawked at him. "How the hell did you know?"
Bellamy shrugged. "Let's just say that great minds think alike."
Monty's gift-giver was equally obvious when he unwrapped it to find a small painting of scattered overlapping green and blue hearts in a gilt frame. Even Bellamy knew it would match the decor of the new apartment Monty was setting up with Harper.
"This is really nice," Monty said, "but it couldn't have cost less than twenty bucks."
"It could if someone painted it herself," Harper said, smiling at Clarke as she took the picture from Monty to examine it more closely.
Finally, after nearly an hour, there was only one box left at the very bottom of the carton and Emori dug it out gingerly, unsealing the envelope and then saying, "I guess this belongs to you, Clarke."
Bellamy waited, heart pounding, as Clarke carefully tore away the white paper and opened the box. But instead of the delighted smile he hoped to see on her face, there was only confusion, followed by disappointment.
"What is this, Bellamy?" she asked, giving him a piercing look from across the table. "And don't try to tell me this gift isn't from you because you're the only one left."
Bellamy gaped at her in surprise. "Yeah, it's from me. Is something wrong?"
Clarke's lips twisted in hurt. "Well, I know these can be silly gifts, but this seems a little cruel, don't you think?"
"Clarke, what the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about you giving me a box of crumbs as a Secret Valentine gift! Are you saying I'm not worth even a gag gift?"
A bewildered Bellamy scraped his chair back so fast he nearly upended it, then leaned across the table to grab the box from Clarke. Only to find… a boxful of crumbs.
Shit! This couldn't be happening.
He frantically fished through the crumbs, until finally, in the very bottom of the box tucked away inside an extra layer of foil, he found one nearly intact heart-shaped, raspberry-jam-filled, sandwich cookie, with a tiny heart-shaped cutout on the top layer that revealed the red jam inside.
"Here!" He placed it on the table in front of Clarke, and she gazed down in surprise at the lone cookie. "This is what your gift was. I stayed up half the night making them for you, and when I packed them up last night there were eleven others just like this. But the damn box must have gotten tossed around so much that they all just… crumbled."
Eyes wide, she stared up at him in astonishment. "You… baked me cookies?"
"Yeah, I did. I was trying so hard to stick to the damn rules, but nothing I found for twenty bucks seemed like it was good enough to give you. Your gift… needed to be special." He sighed. "Like… you are. So I finally decided to make you these cookies. And… I don't know. I was so tired, I guess maybe I didn't pack them up right."
He gazed down at her in dismay. "But shit, Clarke! How the hell could you ever think I'd give you a… a box of crumbs!"
In an instant she was out of her chair and going eyeball to eyeball with him across the table.
"Why shouldn't I think that? You never gave me any idea you thought I was special. Wasn't I mostly… useful? To keep all those unwanted women at bay?"
"Jesus, Clarke! That's just something I said! It was a good excuse to sit and talk to you, get to know you. Maybe even become friends."
Her expression reflected complete confusion. "But… why would you need an excuse?"
"Because… oh, shit!" He closed his eyes, summoning up the courage to try to explain. "When we first met, I thought I understood about you. That you could never like me in the way I… might have wanted. But I thought that was okay, because I liked you so much I figured I'd be good with us just being friends."
"But we were friends… weren't we? Until you just… disappeared."
"Yeah! Because that's when I finally realized I'd got it all wrong! In the beginning, all I knew was that you'd had a girlfriend. But when you came back after Christmas, and you were dating some guy, that changed everything I thought I knew. And I finally figured out how much I'd been lying to myself."
Bellamy took a heavy breath and forced himself to go on.
"We were only ever friends because that's how you wanted it. I felt like an idiot, and it was easier to just… stay away."
And suddenly, it was all too much. He'd thought he could go back to how it had been between them during those months before the holidays. That it would be worth it just to be around her.
But now he knew that would be impossible.
"Look, I'm sorry about the cookies, Clarke. I think they came out pretty good, but it was 2 a.m., so what the fuck do I know? But I hate that you ended up with crumbs for a gift, because that wasn't my intention." He sighed. "But I can't do this thing with us again. I missed you so damn much that I thought it'd be okay. That I'd be happy if we could just go back to the way things were. But I can't do it anymore."
Then he was grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair and heading toward the door.
"Bellamy, wait!" She'd moved around the table so quickly that she was suddenly right behind him.
He paused, turning wearily in the doorway. "Yeah?"
"I just… I don't understand. You can't do what anymore?"
Even though the room was full of people it was so quiet that all Bellamy could hear was the sound of his own harsh breaths. He stood there in that silence, and for a moment he thought about not answering her, about not humiliating himself further. About just… walking out the door.
But then he realized how absolutely bone-weary he was from keeping it all inside for so many months.
He sighed.
"I can't pretend any longer that I want to be your friend, Clarke," he said finally. "I can't pretend any longer that I'm not in love with you."
There was actually some relief in having said the words, and now he just had to wait for her to lower the boom. To tell him that he was a nice person, but she'd never see him that way. And to probably also say that she was sorry, because Clarke was, after all, a kind person.
But that's not what happened at all.
Instead, she gazed up at him in disbelief, and said something else entirely.
"Bellamy Blake, how the hell could you be such an idiot?! Do you have any idea how much I wanted you to ask me out? I tried to tell myself I should just stop thinking about it, that I didn't want to become one of those women who chased after you. Like the ones you despised and used me to hide from. But I just… couldn't seem to help myself."
For the length of two heartbeats they stared at each other in silence, and then his jacket fell from his fingers as Bellamy reached out to pull Clarke into his arms.
"Clarke." Her name on his lips was barely a sigh.
"Yeah?" she whispered, staring up at him.
But when her eyes dropped to his lips, Bellamy could no more have stopped what happened next than he could have stopped breathing.
They leaned towards one another and his mouth slid over hers in what began as the softest of kisses. But when she wound her arms around his neck and lifted herself on her toes, the kiss exploded with pent-up longing.
And as quiet as the room had been only moments earlier, it now erupted in whistles and catcalls, and perhaps even a muttered, "What the fuck took them so long!"
Bellamy finally recalled his surroundings, and lifted his head from Clarke to find all their friends snickering at them. But he was too damn happy to give even half a shit.
"So now that all the swooning is over with," Murphy ventured, his patience clearly having reached its limit, "do you think we can get back to the party?"
Bellamy gazed down at Clarke, an unspoken question in his eyes, and then she answered for both of them.
"I think we're going to be leaving now, but feel free to help yourselves to my cookie crumbs. I only want this one," she said, leaning across the table to grab both her coat and the one intact heart-shaped cookie, while Bellamy retrieved his jacket from the floor.
"Hey!" Murphy called after them cheekily as they headed out the door. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
"What do you think that eliminates?" Clarke smiled her question as they made their way across the bar.
"Not much," Bellamy smirked, hurrying her through the door.
Only to stop her just outside it so he could pull her into his arms again.
This kiss lasted much longer than the first one, and soon Bellamy knew he needed to get them someplace private as quickly as possible.
"Your place or mine?" he asked, pulling away and breathing hard. And then he grinned. "I can't believe I just said that."
She laughed. "Your place is closer. We can come back for my car later."
Then they were in his car but kissing again, and he had to use every ounce of self-discipline he possessed to actually start the car and drive to his apartment. When they finally got there, they barely made it to the bedroom before they were in each other's arms, naked and wanting, their bodies aching with all the repressed passion of months of misunderstanding and regret.
Later, much later, Bellamy pulled Clarke into his arms with a contented sigh, and she lay curled against his side.
"You know," she said, her head nestled on his shoulder, "I never actually said it, but I'm in love with you, too."
"I think I'd already figured that out," he said, smiling down at her softly. "My no-longer-a-secret Valentine."