All my thanks to all who take the time to read, review, follow and favorite! I know this update is a bit later than my previous ones have been, but the end of this term is really starting to kick my ass. It is a quite a bit longer than usual, so I hope that makes up for it at least a little. Also feeling particularly lazy when it comes to grammar tonight, so I hope it's not a mess. Commence Chapter Six…

On Friday morning Bellamy woke up on his sister's couch, having stumbled in around 4:00 am. Working at a bar meant decent pay (for a bartender at least) and nice tips, but it also meant late nights; getting a key to his sister's apartment was probably one of the smartest things he had ever done. Instead of catching a cab to take him across town, which would overcharge him due to the late hour, he could walk just around the corner and have a couch waiting for him, blankets and pillows included.

He walked into the kitchen, opened the cupboard and took out a mug.

"Me too, please," he heard his sister's voice say as she joined him in the kitchen. Bellamy got out a second mug and filled both with coffee that was already made and waiting. He was about to take his first sip when he noticed a note sticking out from under the coffee maker.

I made the coffee again this morning. Sure hope I did it right!
xoxo,
Clarke

She was, of course, referring to the comment Bellamy had made last time he had crashed on the couch after Clarke had moved in with Octavia, feigning surprise that the spoiled rich girl could make herself a cup of coffee. He shook his head, and took a sip of the coffee, and almost spit it right back out; it tasted like someone had dumped a pound of sugar into it…much like the cup he had snagged from Clarke's possession last week.

"Something wrong?" Octavia asked, having not yet taken a drink from her mug.

"Taste the coffee," Bellamy choked out.

Octavia obliged and then laughed, "You know how I said Clarke's response to you taking her coffee last Sunday was tame? Well, apparently she's going for the long-term, subtle revenge." She took another sip of the coffee.

"You're going to drink that?" Bellamy asked, astounded.

"Yeah. You're the one who likes it black. If I didn't like the added sugar, Clarke wouldn't have done it. She's getting back at you, not me."

"Well, can you pour the rest of the contaminated stuff into a second mug or something? I'm going to make a drinkable pot of coffee." Bellamy inquired as he went to the cupboard to find the coffee grounds. He stared at the empty shelf, a note resting where the coffee grounds usually sat.

You didn't think I'd make it that easy, did you?
xoxo,
Clarke

"Exactly how mad would you be at me if I legitimately killed Clarke? Would you just not talk to me for a week? Maybe two? And then eventually get over it? Because right now, I'm thinking it might be worth it."

In response to Octavia's raised eyebrow, he just handed her the note, which resulted in her uproarious laughter. "This needs to be instagramed," she said, running to her room with both notes to find her phone.

Bellamy also went in search of his phone, but instead of social media, he opened his text messaging. After finding "Princess" he composed his text.

What did you do with the coffee, Princess?
10:08 am

I'm at work, how could I have done anything
to your coffee?
10:09 am

Before you left, smartass.
10:09 am

I assure you, I have no idea what you're
talking about ;)
10:09 am

I need my coffee in the mornings.
10:10 am

Funny you should say that. So do I. Specifically
I need someone to not steal it out of my hand
10:11 am

Just tell me where I can find the
coffee grounds.
10:11 am

Maybe if I got an apology for the coffee stealing
incidence last week
10:12 am

Sorry
10:12 am

For what?
10:12 am

Not this again!
10:13 am

I'm waiting…
10:13 am

I am sorry I took your coffee last Sunday.
It was immature and unwarranted.
10:13 am

Very good. Coffee's below the sink behind
the garbage bags
10:14 am

Thank you.
10:13 am

If you're at work, shouldn't you be, I
don't know, working?
10:14 am

You caught me on my break. Speaking of which,
I need to get back
10:14 am

Enjoy your coffee
10:14 am

"Who you texting?" Octavia asked after she re-entered the kitchen.

"Clarke. Figuring out where she hid the coffee." Bellamy replied absently as he went under the sink to find it.

"So you guys are getting along?!" Octavia excitedly asked.

"I don't know that you would call holding coffee hostage until I apologize 'getting along.'"

"If I didn't know any better, I would call it flirting."

Bellamy scoffed, "The day I flirt with Clarke Griffin check me into a mental hospital, because I've clearly lost my mind."

"Whatever you say, big brother."

"You're late!" Clarke was greeted by Raven as she walked into her apartment.

"Sorry." She replied and followed the voice to the living room, "I was under the impression that people weren't getting here till 7:00…and it looks like you're the only one who's early, so am I even late?"

"For girl talk and getting ready, yes you are," Octavia pronounced.

"Geez, didn't know I had even more social obligations in addition to hosting dinner and going out tonight," Clarke feigned exasperation with her friends. "Come to my room and help me pick out what to wear then we can have your girl talk," she added as she turned down the hall to her bedroom. The two girls got up from their places on the couch to follow.

"We laid out your outfit on your bed, already," Octavia said. "But I'll help you with your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"You look like you just came from work."

"I did just come from work."

"Exactly."

"Fine," Clarke conceded and looked at her bed to see what outfit her friends had chosen. The verdict: black faux leather leggings, a flowy white top, and a pair of strappy heels.

After Clarke had changed and was sitting down to let Octavia do one of her elaborate braiding hair-dos, Octavia called over her shoulder to Raven, "Alright, now will you finally tell me the 'girl talk' that had to be withheld until Clarke got home?"

"Well…" said Raven holding up her left hand, which was sporting a beautiful diamond ring on a very specific finger.

"Oh my god!" Clarke and Octavia said in sequence, Octavia dropped Clarke's hair and they both rushed over to get a closer look at the ring. "Wick proposed?!"

"Yup," Raven chirped, a huge grin on her face.

The girls gushed and continued to get ready until the rest of the guests started arriving.

Nearly three hours later a wide array of Chinese food, or rather empty cartons that had previous held Chinese food, were sitting on the coffee table, while the friends sat and talked; Miller, Jasper, and Bellamy occupied the couch, Wick and Raven shared the arm chair, snuggling in their post-engagement bliss, Octavia and Clarke were on the love seat. Monty had come for dinner, but had to leave early in order to make it to his shift at the Drop Ship.

Octavia looked at the time on her phone for the tenth time in the last half hour. "We should get going," She announced.

"Hmmm…got a hot date meeting you at the bar, O?" Clarke prodded quietly, nudging Octavia with her elbow. "Maybe someone whose name starts with Lin- and ends with –coln?"

"It's not a date," Octavia whispered defensively.

"Ahh, but he is meeting you there, am I right?" Clarke asked.

"Let's just get going. We told Monty we'd be there around 10:00," Octavia addressed everyone, avoiding Clarke's question and eye contact.

"I'm down to clown," Jasper said while gaining his feet. Everyone joined him in standing and before long they were on their way around the corner to the Drop Ship.

After getting the first round of drinks, everyone was up to their usual antics: Raven, Octavia, and Clarke on the dance floor while they guys sat and chatted; currently they were seated at the bar, since Monty was on shift and could add his two cents when he wasn't busy with customers. Not impressed with the DJ's music selections, the girls wandered back to the group.

"Round two on me!" Octavia announced, motioning Monty over.

"Half of us aren't even done with round one," Wick complained, holding up his half empty beer bottle.

"He should not have said that," Clarke mumbled with a grimace.

But before anyone could ask her why, Octavia's voice built up as she voiced the question to which there is never a good answer. "You know what that means?" She paused for dramatic effect, "Shots!" Monty had just made his way over to the group, "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven," Octavia counted, "Seven tequila shots, Monty! Or better yet! Do you have any of your moonshine smuggled under the bar?"

"Please say no, please say no, please say no," Clarke begged quietly.

"Seven shots of moonshine it is!" Monty announced, pulling out shot glasses.

"And here I was thinking I would remember tonight," Clarke shook her head. She had partaken in Monty's moonshine only three other times in her life; two resulted in a complete blackout, the third was just very fuzzy around the edges.

Raven responded to Clarke's whispered comment, "I would have rather done tequila."

"Pact?" Clarke turned to her friend, "No matter how Octavia begs, we will not let the other have more than this single shot of Monty's moonshine."

"I will sprint across the bar and knock the shot glass from your hand, if necessary." Raven replied.

"Same." Clarke returned and the two girls shook hands, sealing the deal.

Octavia finished passing out shot glasses and raised hers in the air, "To the future Mr. and Mrs. Wick!"

"So, not changing my last name, but hear, hear!" Raven said and raised her glass.

"Hear, hear," everyone cheered and took their shot, which was followed by several grimaces and a few coughs.

"New batch?" Miller croaked as he set his glass on the bar.

"Yup," Monty replied proudly. "Oh look, here comes, Bryan."

"Did I miss all the fun?" Bryan asked, coming up to the group.

"Not at all! Another shot!" Octavia cried.

"You're definitely regretting that question now, aren't you?" Miller teased, elbowing his boyfriend in the side.

"Not as much as you are when I ask Monty for another, so I don't have to take it alone."

"Why did I open my big mouth?" Miller questioned with a smile.

Monty produced two more shots. "Miller should have gotten in on our pact," Raven said to Clarke, looking on pityingly as he downed his second shot in as many minutes.

"It's every man for himself," Clarke said with a sad shake of her head, before adding with a smirk, "And every woman with her friends." The two girls laughed.

The group began to disperse into smaller fractions, Raven dragging Wick out to the dance floor, Miller, Bryan, Jasper, and Bellamy heading toward the dart board at the back of the bar, and Clarke and Octavia locating a table at which to sit and chat for a little. The two girls had only been talking for two minutes before Octavia looked over Clarke's shoulder and began waving someone down.

"I'm so glad you came!" She called, getting up from her chair, only to do the awkward dance of not knowing the appropriate way to greet the handsome, buff, bald man who had just made his way through the crowd to them; a peck on the cheek was too intimate of a greeting and a handshake too formal. Octavia settled for a slightly clumsy hug. "Lincoln, this is Clarke, my roommate and the best friend a girl could ask for. Clarke, Lincoln, my…" She trailed off, not knowing how to describe her relationship, or lack thereof, with Lincoln.

Clarke saved her by holding out her hand, "Nice to meet you, Lincoln. I hear you've been bringing back trinkets from far off lands to decorate O's office."

He nodded as he shook her hand, "Can't have the best travel agent in town having a shabby looking office."

"See, you're just growing her ego. She's going to be insufferable to live with now," Clarke joked.

"Just telling the truth," Lincoln said with a smile that shown deep in his eyes as he looked toward Octavia. Octavia returned it with the same gleam in her eyes.

Clarke looked between the two of them and smiled knowingly to herself. "I hate to be that person and do the meet and dash, but I hear a whiskey sour calling my name from the bar. I'll catch up with you later, O." She said, touching her friend gently on her arm, before turning to the newcomer and adding, "It was great to meet you, Lincoln; I hope to be seeing you around." She shot a wink to Octavia with the last sentence. The look Octavia gave Clarke was a look of both graciousness and murder; she didn't know whether to thank her friend for giving her some time alone with Lincoln, or to kill her for insinuating that he should come back to their apartment.

Clarke swerved her way to a stool at the end of the bar. Harper, the other bartender for the night, approached her, "Hey, Clarke, what can I get for you?"

"Whiskey sour, please," Clarke answered and turned, so she could spy on Octavia and Lincoln from across the bar. Lincoln had taken the seat Clarke had previously occupied and was deep in conversation with Octavia, his hand idly stroking hers in the center of the table. Not a date, my ass! Clarke thought to herself as she took a sip of the drink Harper had just placed in front of her before hurrying off to help another patron.

"A pretty thing like you sitting all by yourself? That's a tragedy if I've ever seen one." A voice broke Clarke out of her musings. She turned and saw a man with pushed back brown hair, brown eyes to match, and smirk of privilege and cockiness whose gaze was looking her up and down. When his eyes finally met hers, he held out his hand, "Cage Wallace."

"Clarke," she answered curtly, reluctantly taking his hand. But instead of shaking it, he turned her wrist to bring the back of her hand up to his lips. She jerked back her hand and tried to subtly, but not too subtly, wipe in on her leggings.

"So, what has brought this tragedy of a beautiful girl all by her lonesome at this humble bar?" He asked, his voice dripping with sleaze.

"Came to celebrate with friends," she replied shortly.

"And what are we celebrating?"

"Friends' engagement."

"That's wonderful, let's toast to them!" He said trying to wave over a bartender.

"Did that earlier tonight." Clarke had never been good at getting men to leave her alone at bars. Sure she could yell and rave at people she knew, exhibit A: Bellamy. But being polite to strangers was something that had been ground into her at a young age from attending functions with her mom and dad. The closest she ever got to telling someone off at a bar was being short and abrupt like she was now, hoping he'd take the hint when none of her sentences were over five words; usually Octavia or Raven would swoop in with the save, but they were both preoccupied with their respective love interests.

"And once is enough for the happy couple?" He smile was sickeningly sweet.

"Yup," Clarke clipped.

"I don't believe that," he said, his voice as slick as oil. "Plus they can't be good friends if they abandoned you here by yourself." He slid his hand up her thigh and added, "But their loss is my gain."

She tensed and removed his hand from her leg, "They're just doing their own thing," she said through partially gritted teeth. And after a second's thought she added the classic method to get a guy to back off who couldn't take a hint, "And I really don't think my boyfriend would appreciate where you were going with that comment." She annunciated the final word with a look at his hand that had formally been invading her space.

"Boyfriend? You didn't mention one before," Cage said, still leaning towards her with no change in the slimy tone of his voice.

Dear Lord, what would make this jackass back the fuck off?!

"Yup, and he's right…" Clarke quickly scanned the room to find any of her guy friends that she could pass off as a boyfriend. And then she spotted someone. I am so going to regret this. I am most definitely going to regret this. Why am I doing this?! This has got to be one of the worst ideas I've ever had! "…there." She pointed to Bellamy who was approaching them from the back of the bar where he had been playing darts.

She surged upward as soon as he was close enough, quickly whispered, "Please just go with it," in his ear, and gave him a peck on the cheek, hoping Cage wouldn't notice anything was off.

Luckily before Bellamy could voice his confusion, Cage said, "So you're our dear Clarke's boyfriend. Aren't you a lucky man?"

"Boyfriend?" Bellamy said with a slight question in his voice before quickly sliding his hands around Clarke's waist and pulling her into his chest, "Yup. That's me." He gave Clarke a peck on the cheek. "And you are…?"

"Cage Wallace. I was just trying to keep this beautiful lady company because I thought she was all alone."

"Not alone. Just wandered off for a bit. I was actually just coming to look for her." Bellamy didn't relinquish his hold on her waist as he conversed with Cage. Playing the part of the happy girlfriend, Clarke settled back into him, rested her head on his shoulder, and placed her hands over his. As much as she was not a fan of Bellamy Blake, she would take him over this Cage Wallace person any day. "So, Princess, you want to play that game of pool we were talking about?" Bellamy had turned to look down at her.

Clarke turned her head without it leaving his shoulder; she had never been this close to him before and felt like she could count each individual freckle on his face. An uncontrollable smiled pulled up the corners of her mouth. "Only if you're ready to get your ass kicked," she teased playfully.

"You mean, only if you're ready to get your ass kicked," his index finger booped her nose gently as he emphasized the word "you're", a smile alighting his face as well. His gaze lingered on hers for a moment before he jerked back to look at Cage. "It was great to me you, Craig. I'm going to steal my girlfriend back now." Bellamy turned her toward the pool tables with his a hand on the small of her back.

"It's Cage," Cage corrected and then reached for Clarke's wrist, preventing her from making a clean escape. "And Clarke," he said, sliding a small piece of paper into her hand, "if you ever want some time with a real man of class, give me a call." With that he got up and walked away, seeking out his next prey.

Still standing partially against his chest, Clarke felt Bellamy tense and he started toward Cage whose back was already turned toward them. She put a hand on the center of his chest and looked up at him, "He's not even worth it, Bellamy." He looked down at her and took a deep breath. She held his gaze as he unclenched his fists and the fire faded from his eyes. She paused, her mind reflecting on the past minute, "Did you fucking BOOP me on the nose?"

"I was playing the doting, lovesick boyfriend!" He defended.

[Backtracking a little bit here, mostly because I wanted to see the same scene from Bellamy's perspective]

Bellamy had just won the game of darts and was venturing from the back to get another whiskey sour. Well, it looks like Clarke is hitting it off with someone, he thought as he saw a man with brown hair resting his hand on her thigh. She pushed it off, said something and then began looking around before her eyes settled on him. He couldn't quite name the look on her face, but as he got closer to the bar she jumped up like something had bit her in the ass, placed a hand on his chest, whispered something in his ear and kissed him on the cheek. Wait, she kissed him on the cheek? What is going on?

He was about to voice this question, when the man to whom Clarke had been talking said, "So you're our dear Clarke's boyfriend. Aren't you a lucky man?"

"Boyfriend?" He questioned quietly and then the words Clarke had whispered finally registered in his brain "Please just go with it" "Yup. That's me." He said with confidence and snaked his arms around her waist pulling her close, the smell of her shampoo wafting up to his nose. Channeling a protective and jealous boyfriend he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and added, "And you are…?"

"Cage Wallace. I was just trying to keep this beautiful lady company because I thought she was all alone." The tone in his voice put Bellamy on edge. It was the tone Bellamy associated with cocky assholes who thought they could run the world however they pleased and no one could stop them.

"Not alone. Just wandered off for a bit. I was actually just coming to look for her." Clarke settled more deeply into his hold, laying her head on his shoulder and wrapping her hands around his. How to get out of here…, he thought. "So, Princess," he said, her nickname rolling off his tongue with an entirely different tone than usual, more of a caress, less of saying it just to get under her skin, "you want to play that game of pool we were talking about?"

She turned her head on his shoulder to meet his gaze, he swore he had never seen such brilliant blue eyes before. A soft, happy smile came over her features. "Only if you're ready to get your ass kicked," she said, her nose wrinkling slightly in an endearing way.

"You mean, only if you're ready to get your ass kicked," his finger instinctively tapping the tip of her nose, before he could think of what he was doing. She held his gaze for a moment, then, startling out of the moment, he looked to Cage. "It was great to meet you Craig," He said, purposefully saying the wrong name. Who names their kid, "Cage" anyway? "I'm going to steal my girlfriend back now." He started to turn, placing his hand on Clarke's lower back to guide her to the pool tables, hearing a slightly angered, "It's Cage," over his shoulder, but was stopped when Clarke was tugged back.

He saw Cage slipping something into her hand. "And Clarke, if you ever want some time with a real man of class, give me a call." As Cage turned his back, not even acknowledging him, Bellamy felt the rage that he was oh-so familiar with fill him. He had caught the tone earlier, the "I'm better than you, I'll do what I want" tone, and Bellamy had heard it from people for his whole life; now that he was an adult, there was no one there to stop him from doing something about it when someone used that tone with him. Except Clarke, apparently.

The moment he started forward he felt her small hand splay across his chest. "He's not even worth it," she told him, her voice a calm against his inner storm. He looked down and met her gaze; it was as calm as her voice and it calmed him too. Then the look in her eyes changed to something he was much more familiar with, an indignant spark, "Did you fucking BOOP me on the nose?!"

"I was playing the doting, lovesick boyfriend," he defended the action, truthfully not knowing himself where it had come from.

She glared at him and glanced over at the bar to see Cage glancing their way, "We should probably actually play that game of pool. Just so we don't get our cover blown." She shivered, "You couldn't pay me all the money in the world to talk to that guy again." She moved over to the table and racked the balls.

"By the way you own me one, for that whole shebang back there," he said as he joined her at the pool table.

"Okay. Fine. What do you want?"

"I don't know," he said, trying to think about potential favors, but nothing came to mind, "…yet. I'll let you know when I figure it out."

She rolled her eyes, "Do you want to break? Or should I?"

"I'll give you the advantage," he smirked. Not to brag or anything, but he was a beast at pool. However, the mischievous grin she gave him led him to question this decision. It was that second thought that rang true as she neatly broke the pack, sending a ball into the corner pocket. "Lucky break," He said.

"Just keep telling yourself that this game and maybe you can walk away with your pride intact." She walked around the table, lined up her next shot. "Seven ball, side pocket," she called and did exactly as she claimed she was going to. Her third hit didn't do quite what she wanted.

She stood back and Bellamy lined up his shot, "Twelve, corner pocket." He watched the cue ball hit the twelve ball which then sunk into the corner pocket. "I hope you didn't think this was going to be easy," he said, giving her his half-smile.

After Clarke lost the first game, she insisted on best two out of three, "I was just getting warmed up," she claimed.

Just as Clarke won the second game Octavia wandered over. "Where have you been all night?" he asked her.

"Oh, here and there," she replied exchanging a suspicious look with Clarke.

"And by that you mean…"

"Nothing special."

Bellamy growled under his breath. That meant something to do with a boy and she didn't want to tell him about it, which meant it was probably someone he wasn't going to like. Not that he liked the idea of any guy being interested in or especially touching his sister.

In the meantime, Clarke had racked the balls for the third game. "Do you want to break? Or should I?" she asked, harkening back to the first game. He wasn't fooled by her innocent act anymore, this girl was borderline pool shark.

"You break. You did win the last game."

"Huh?" She asked, not having heard him.

"You break."

"No, no. The second half."

Bellamy rolled his eyes. "We'll see who's the real winner after this game," he proclaimed, determined to not be holding the short end of the stick.

"Oh really now? You ready to see how it looks from second place?"

"Stop talking and start chalking," he bantered back.

When Clarke finally went to break, he walked over to stand next to where Octavia was sitting, messing around on her phone. "Here you go, Bell," she said handing it to him.

"What's this?" He said looking down at the phone. She had searched "top ten mental hospitals near me."

"Make your choice. This morning you said that if you ever started flirting with Clarke I should check you into a mental hospital. I'm just getting your input first." She smiled innocently at him.

"Why I put up with you, the world may never know," he shook his head and handed her phone back to her. "And I'm not flirting! I am undermining my competition by getting in her head."

"Whatever you say, big brother. You may hate that I sometimes know you better than yourself, but you always love me."

"You're up," Clarke announced, oblivious to the conversation he had been having with his sister. She walked over to take his place and chat with Octavia as he took his shot.

Octavia left halfway through the game saying she was going to the dance floor, he nodded absentmindedly, unwavering in his need to win this game. However, he did not.

"Shit. I should have put money on this or something," Clarke said as she gloated.

"Well, too late now," he said, but was soon distracted by a girl with curly brown hair approaching.

"I'm sorry, this may sound rude, but are you two together?" she asked.

"Oh god, no," Clarke said before Bellamy could answer, "I mean…" she quickly looked around the bar, looking for evidence of Cage still being there, she sighed in relief, "Nope, definitely not together." The girl raised an eyebrow at Clarke's antics. "Sorry, used him to get away from a total creep earlier tonight, just making sure our cover wasn't blown," she explained.

The girl laughed. Apparently this was a common occurrence in girl world and something they could bond over. "So you wouldn't mind if I steal him for a dance or two?" she asked, then quickly turning to Bellamy, "Of course, assuming you want to." She smiled at him.

"Can't steal something I don't want," Clarke replied.

"Harsh much?" he quipped. Clarke just shrugged. "I'd love to," he told the girl holding out his hand, "I'm Bellamy, by the way."

"Gina," she replied, taking his hand and leading him toward the dance floor.

Fun Fact: I get really embarrassed and uncomfortable on behalf of the characters when I'm reading or watching TV. So much so that I will often cover my eyes, hide my face, etc. during awkward moments. Definitely went through the same thing with the Cage-Clarke-Bellamy interaction here. Mostly it was when Clarke had to ask Bellamy to step in to be her boyfriend, because I knew Clarke didn't want to do it, so I didn't want to do it, but she had to do it, because plot. It was really hard for me to write because I was cringing and muttering "Oh, god, no" repeatedly, wishing to be out of the awkward situation. I actually had to put down my computer and walk away before I could complete the scene. In short, yes, I am socially awkward in real life and project that in my reading and viewing and apparently writing.