Again, thanks for the reviews, they truly make my day!

Also, I was asked how old they all are in this story, so I thought I share that information and a bunch more of their background with you all since I have it all written down for myself anyway. I don't know how much all this will play into the story, but here it is:

- Clarke and Octavia are both 23, Bellamy and Lincoln (who may or may not be named in this chapter…) are both 28. Other people I haven't really thought about too much...Raven and Wick are probably around 24 and 27/28 respectively, Jasper and Monty are probably around 21-22, Miller and Murphy are probably close to 26-28.

- Clarke and Octavia met in college, were random roommates that worked out and they lived together for all four years

- Bellamy always thought Clarke was spoiled because her parents paid for everything and he didn't like seeing her give things to Octavia that he couldn't and her not seeing it as a big deal

o Clarke paying for a Spring Break trip

- Clarke works (part-time) at an art conservation center

- Octavia works at a travel agency and loves photography (exploring and capturing the world)

o Lincoln works for a nature and culture magazine called "Grounders" traveling the world and bringing back little things from each trip for his favorite travel agent

- Bellamy was in the army, now working as a bartender and is working on his thesis in Classics (also is a TA)

o Old army buddies: Miller (now on police force) and Murphy (kind of – no current life plan)

o Jasper and Monty also work at the bar in addition to school (Chemistry and Electronic Engineering respectively)

- Clarke's dad was killed in a car accident during Clarke's second year of college.

- Her best friend, Wells, was murdered when she was 16 (why she needed outgoing Octavia to bring her out of her shell). Wells dad is a judge, in one of his cases, he ruled guilty and the convicted felon was killed in prison two weeks after having been sentenced. The father of the convicted felon killed Wells and said it was because if he had to live without his son, so did Thelonius.

And now may I present Chapter Four…

There was a knock at the door. Clarke rolled off the couch, setting her laptop on the coffee table and padded over. She opened the door to find Bellamy standing there holding a large pile of papers. "Octavia's not home," she said and started to close the door. It had only been two days since Bellamy's comment at lunch and Clarke was still seething. She constantly had the memory running through the back of her mind of her mom yelling and saying she was no longer speaking to or supporting Clarke, she didn't need someone else saying it out loud, especially someone who Clarke didn't even like in the first place.

"I'm not here to see Octavia." Bellamy said, catching the door with his foot.

"Well, then you must have the wrong apartment. There's a kind of slutty girl who lives about three doors down, she's probably into assholes, maybe you should go knock on her door." Clarke snapped and tried to close the door again.

Bellamy kept his foothold, "Octavia told me I needed to apologize for what I said on Sunday."

Clarke's mouth was in a tight grimace, her jaw jutting out slightly, "And…" Bellamy looked down to the floor. "You can't just say you need to apologize and then not actually apologize. That's not how it works. Especially when you wait two days to do it."

There was a pause. "I'm sorry. It was uncalled for," Bellamy said quietly, still not looking up from the ground.

"What was?" Clarke asked stubbornly, crossing her arms, "Are you sorry that you said what you did? Or that Octavia called you out on it?"

"How old are we? Do you seriously need to walk me through an apology?"

"Well clearly you don't know how to give one, so apparently I do."

"Alright! Alright! I'm sorry I said what I did about you being a spoiled brat and that it was about time you got a taste of actually having to work for things like the rest of the world."

"Don't remember you saying half of that, but glad to know what you really think!"

"I might have thought more than said that stuff. Anyway, I'm sorry." Bellamy apologized, sounding more sincere this time.

"Fine, apology accepted. Have a nice day!" Clarke said sarcastically, once again trying to close the door, and again it was stopped by Bellamy's foot.

"I brought my thesis…if you'd still be willing to take a look…"

"So you come to apologize, I practically have to pull it out of you, and you still want me to do you a favor?" She looked at him incredulously.

"I, uh…" He at least at the decency to look a little guilty, "I've been stuck on the translation for nearly two weeks and it's nagging at me so much that I'm struggling to move on to other parts."

"Okay, fine, whatever!" Clarke said, holding out her hand for the stack of papers Bellamy was clutching. "I'll get to it when I get to it!"

"Thank you, Clarke!" Bellamy exclaimed sounding truly grateful. The look on his face changed to the signature Blake smirk as he added, "Maybe you can find me at that slutty girl's apartment when you're done and we can talk about what you think."

"Fuck off," and with that Clarke was finally able to close the door.

She made her way back to the couch, tossing the copy of Bellamy's thesis on the coffee table and pulled her laptop back onto her lap. She started her Netflix movie again, after a moment her gaze shifted to the thesis sitting two feet away, she turned back to her movie. "No," she told herself, "Why should I help that asshole?" She got through about five more minutes of her movie before she heaved a big sigh, closed her computer and picked up the thesis. "Only because I really did love that Classic Comparative Mythology class," she mumbled as her eyes began to flit back and forth across the page.

Octavia walked into the apartment and was greeted by a sight that pulled her immediately back to the college years. Clarke was sitting cross-legged on the couch, hair pulled up in a messy bun on the top of her head, pen tucked between her teeth, as she muttered under her breath, surrounding her on the couch and coffee table were several books open to various pages.

"Aha! Yes!" Clarke shouted excitedly as she took the pen from her mouth and began to scribble something on a piece of paper.

"What'cha doin'?" Octavia asked walking over and finding an open spot on the arm chair to fall into.

"Oh, hi, O. Didn't hear you come in."

"Obviously. What? Did we regress to writing term papers again? I feel like we're back at Augie looking at you." Octavia voiced her earlier thoughts.

"Huh? Oh…well, Bellamy stopped by…and he dropped off his thesis. And I wasn't going to look at it right away, but then I did, and I got really caught up and had to go find my copy of Ovid and well, yeah." Clarke paused to take a breath. "You look awfully cute for having just come from a work meeting," She said waggling her eyebrows.

"You know, sometimes I hate that you know me so well." Octavia told her, not really meaning it.

"So there is a guy!" Clarke squealed as she tossed what she had been working on, onto the table and gave Octavia her undivided attention.

"Well, it's not officially a thing. I mean, I don't even know what he thinks of me. But he always requests to work with me when he comes into the travel agency, which is a lot because he works for that nature magazine, Grounders, and travels around taking pictures. He brings back little trinkets from the places he goes, he says they're to help me decorate my office."

"Oh my god! He so likes you! Does he have a name?"

"Lincoln. Lincoln Westbrook."

"And when do I get to meet this Lincoln Westbrook?"

"Well, maybe if he actually asked me out on a date…" Octavia said, not able to hide her disappointment that this hadn't happened already.

"Okay, so he specifically asks to work with you, brings you gifts from far off, exotic places, and yet doesn't ask you out on a date? Is he married or something?"

"No. Not married. And according to Facebook, he's not in a relationship either."

"Octavia Blake! Did you Facebook stalk him?!" Clarke questioned, acting appalled.

"I might have also looked at his Instagram and he doesn't have a Twitter, so…" Octavia grabbed a nearby pillow to hide her reddening face.

"Oh my god! You are downright smitten!" Clarke couldn't stop the huge grin that was spreading across her face. "I cannot remember the last time you were this into a guy!" Octavia looked out from behind the pillow, her smile taking up half her face.

She watched as Clarke suddenly grabbed her laptop and began typing something while saying, "I'm going to have to track down this Lincoln Westbrook and inform him that if he doesn't ask my best friend out soon he'll have me to contend with." Her eyes widened slightly as she looked at the computer screen, "Okay, maybe threatening him may not be my safest option…I'm pretty sure he could tie me in a knot and throw me 100 yards, but damn, he is one good looking man, Octavia!" Clarke whistled.

Octavia laughed at her friend coming over to look at the Facebook profile Clarke had pulled up. She smiled as she looked at the well-built man whose brown eyes made her want to melt, "Isn't he, though?"

Okay, I realize I have a serious issue with relying on a specific writing style, which I can't for the life of me remember what it's called. How I constantly use gerunds (words ending in "–ing") as a subordinate clause to add a descriptor to what someone is doing, or how someone is saying something. I probably shouldn't call attention to it because now you're all going to notice it. But in my defense, that is how a lot of Classical authors write, and I've spent the last four years of my life reading and translating Latin and Greek…which may or may not be why I've chosen to have Bellamy fully embrace the Classics by getting his Masters. Anyway, end rant.