Between the two of them, Bellamy figured it was a tossup as to which was in better shape to drive.
He knew in his head that his own trauma had been severe, and that it was only a matter of time before he'd have to deal with those moments of terror and hopelessness. But he'd spent most of the afternoon with his seven-week-old daughter, holding her, feeding her, watching her sleep. And somehow that had calmed him, so at the moment he felt in control.
Clarke, although for the most part she'd been doing nothing more than her regular job, seemed to be barely holding it together. Her hands had shaken so badly when she'd reached out to take Norah that he'd strapped in the baby himself and carried her out to the car.
It's possible it was just fatigue, but he thought maybe there was more to it than that. That maybe she'd been concerned for him, if only as her child's father. But there was little he could do about that now.
Decision made, Bellamy sighed and asked Clarke for her keys.
"I'll drive," he said.
And although he half-expected an argument, she just nodded and handed them to him without a word.
It was only a short drive to Clarke's apartment, but she spent all of it huddled against the side window with her eyes closed.
"I'll feed Norah now," she said, unstrapping the baby as soon as they walked in the door. Even though she looked like she was about to collapse.
"Do you have to do that right this second? You look really beat. Maybe you could have a little rest first. I mean, she's barely fussy. She could probably wait a while."
Clarke colored slightly, her eyes shifting away from him. "It's my breasts, Bellamy… they ache."
"Christ, I'm an idiot," he said, distressed by his failure to understand. "I'll just wait out there until you're done…"
"Wait! Hang on a minute."
Clarke handed him the baby, then ran down the hall to her bedroom, reappearing a moment later with a neatly-folded t-shirt.
"Here. You left this last week when Norah spit up all over you, and I… I washed it. You can put it on after you… take a shower."
She hesitated for a moment before adding, "You've, uh… you've got blood in your hair." Her eyes closed briefly and she shrugged. "Not that I'm not used to blood, of course, but in your hair, it just… it keeps reminding me…"
Shit! Why the hell hadn't he realized?
He gave her a small smile.
"Yeah, I could definitely stand a shower. Okay if I use that coconut shampoo your hair always smells of?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Sure," she said, rewarding him with a small smile, "as long as you don't use too much of it. That bottle cost me three-ninety-nine at CVS."
He grinned, happy to see even that little spark of humor. "I'll try to control myself."
After Bellamy cleared every vestige of the day's events from his body — also managing to scrub away the few specks of blood that had landed near the zipper of his jeans — he emerged from the bathroom to find that the door to the nursery was still closed. He waited a few more minutes before tapping lightly on it.
"Hey, is Norah still chowing down?" he asked softly. "Can I… uh, can I come in?"
"Yeah, sure, come on in." Clarke's words were soft but she sounded unutterably tired.
He found her sitting in her rocker cuddling his now-sleeping daughter.
"She's done?"
When Clarke nodded, he said, "Why don't you grab a shower yourself while I rustle us up something to eat?"
She looked down at herself, as though just then remembering that she was still wearing her scrubs.
"Oh! Yeah, maybe. But… I'm not sure I'm really hungry."
He frowned. "When was the last time you ate?"
"Uh… breakfast, I think? I was a little rushed this morning so I had a breakfast bar while I was nursing Norah." She smiled at the sleeping baby. "She was kinda hungry this morning. Took forever to fill up."
"Well, she looks plenty full now." Bellamy reached down for the baby. "But I haven't eaten since breakfast, either. And I think we should."
Clarke nodded. "Okay," she said, relinquishing her daughter.
Bellamy cradled Norah in his arms for a moment, unable to resist leaving a soft kiss on her forehead before laying her gently in the crib.
"I hope I left you enough coconut shampoo," he told Clarke, and heard her soft laugh as he left the room.
When she emerged several minutes later, wearing sweatpants and a DOCTOR MOM t-shirt that Octavia had given her at the baby shower, he was just plating up two servings of spaghetti Bolognese. Clarke looked marginally better, but her eyes still had the slightly vacant look that had appeared just as they were leaving the daycare center.
It was so unlike her that it was beginning to concern him.
"This is good," she said, apparently finding some appetite.
He shrugged. "Yeah? It's just leftovers from what I made last week."
She smiled. "It was good then, too."
She was quiet after that, and Bellamy struggled to find something to say. They usually chatted about their workdays, but he knew that was hardly the best topic of conversation today.
When they were done, he removed their plates and took them to the sink. He was rinsing them off, his back to her, when Clarke finally broke her silence, startling him as the words seemed to burst out of her.
"Why did you do it?"
He turned to face her.
"Do what?"
"You know what, Bellamy? Why did you put yourself in danger like that?"
He sighed. He'd asked himself the same question a dozen times, but there was only ever one answer.
"Because I couldn't just… let that kid bleed to death. And then… hey, it turned out I wasn't in danger anyway. The shooter only came back down my hallway because he was running from the cops. They finally caught up with him in the next hallway over. So… there really was no danger…"
She gaped at him. "But you couldn't have known that! Fuck, Bellamy! Did you even think about us? Or at least… about Norah?"
"Of course I did!"
Christ! He'd never forget that moment of quiet terror, when her face filled his head as he tried to control his fear.
"But… Jesus, Clarke! I couldn't just… do nothing and watch Adam die. I really thought you'd understand that."
Two quick strides and he'd moved across Clarke's small kitchen to crouch down beside her chair. This was not a conversation he wanted to have across a room.
"Where is this coming from? You seemed… fine with everything earlier today, once you knew I was okay."
"I thought I was." Her voice was so quiet now it was barely above a whisper. "And I do understand. I was... proud of you, Bellamy. But then later on, when we were leaving with Norah, I saw… the blood in your hair…"
"Shit! I'm sorry. I should've looked more carefully when I changed my shirt…"
She shook her head. "It's not your fault. And hell, I should be used to blood by now. It's just," she closed her eyes, as if recalling the horror of that moment, "I was reminded all over again that while you did something brave, and… and good, you could have lost your life doing it. And it's just… you can't die, Bellamy! You need to be here for Norah. Even if someday, you know," she gave a little shrug, "you have your own family, I know you'll always still be her dad. But you have to be alive…"
Bellamy sighed and rose to his feet. "This bullshit again."
"What?" She looked bewildered.
He grabbed her hand, tugging her out of the chair.
"C'mon, let's go into the living room. I need to talk to you."
She nodded warily, and a moment later they were seated on either end of her comfortable sofa.
Bellamy took a deep breath, hardly knowing where to begin.
"Look, these things you keep saying to me… earlier today and just now…"
"I'm sorry, Bellamy. I just… I got scared when I thought you might have gotten hurt… or worse. But I know you did a good thing. I'm not really mad at you…"
"That's not what I'm talking about."
"It isn't?"
"No. I'm talking about the other things you said. About me… getting married, having a family, having other kids…"
"Oh. Well, I can… understand that you probably want that for yourself. But don't worry. You don't have to reassure me you'd never abandon Norah, or… or me, because I already know that…"
"Clarke, stop!"
"No, it's really okay..."
She gasped when he pressed two fingers to her lips for a moment, effectively shutting her up.
"Listen to me, Clarke. Hear me. You've gotta stop going on and on about this crazy idea that I'm gonna marry some… some person and have another family, because it's never happening, okay?"
Clarke's eyes widened, and he heard her breathing quicken, but she said nothing.
Bellamy knew he'd made his point and that he should probably just shut the hell up now. But if today had taught him anything, it was that life was fleeting, and that he never knew when the hell his number might be up. And dammit! He just wasn't leaving this unsaid.
Besides, he was so fucking tired of keeping it all inside.
"See, here's the thing. If I can't marry you — even though I've never dared to use that word even inside my own head, because if just the thought of a relationship scares the hell out of you, then the idea of marriage must be fucking terrifying — but if I can't marry you, and make a home with you, and have more kids with you, than I won't be doing those things at all. Because there's never going to be another woman for me, Clarke. There's only ever going to be you."
Clarke had finally found her voice, but she only managed to say his name.
"Bellamy…"
But he wasn't quite done and he was determined to get it all out. Because who knew if he'd get another chance.
"Clarke, I'm so in love with you that honestly, sometimes when you're around I can hardly see straight. And when you touch me, even just a casual touch on the arm, or maybe you brush my hand when I grab Norah from you… I just… I fucking tremble inside. And all the time I'm hoping to hell that you don't notice."
He sighed.
"So even if you never see me as anything but Norah's dad, and even if I never again get to feel what it's like to be inside you, then… so be it. I'll learn to live with it. But I'm never going to stop wanting you, or wanting to be with you. You've got me for life whether you want me or not."
Done at last, he felt utterly wrung out, but at the same time it felt like a weight had slipped from his shoulders. Now she knew, and they could just… get on with it. He waited for some kind of reaction from Clarke, some sign that at the very least he'd never again have to hear her launch into that fucking speech.
What he hadn't expected was her sudden laugh.
He frowned. What the hell?
But then she slid down the couch until she was right next to him, and smoothed her hand across the furrows that had formed on his brow.
"I'm not laughing at you, Bellamy." She smiled up at him. "I'm laughing at myself. Because I've been such a fucking idiot."
"Yeah?" As always, he could feel his heart rate pick up at her nearness. At her touch. "And why's that?"
"Because," she shrugged, "I do." Her voice was so soft it was hardly more than a whisper.
"You do… what?"
Tears had begun to glisten in her eyes by then, and Bellamy could feel himself holding his breath.
"I do want you. I do… love you. So, so much. When I thought you were dead, my heart just stopped, and I felt like I was dying inside. And not just because you're Norah's dad. It was about me. I need you. I want you. I couldn't begin to imagine my life without you."
Her eyes closed briefly on a sigh. "It does scare the hell out of me to feel like that, Bellamy. Especially since I was never sure exactly how you felt about me But today, I realized there are worse things to be scared of than a broken heart. Like never seeing you again because you were dead."
As he listened, Bellamy's heart had leapt into overdrive. He could hardly believe what she was telling him.
"Clarke." Her name came out of his mouth on a sigh. "I think maybe we've both been a little stupid."
He wasn't conscious of bending down then, or of cupping the back of her head, but a moment later they were kissing, Clarke's tears finally spilling over and wetting their mouths as they kissed.
Bellamy pulled back to gaze down at her, just to remind himself that this was really happening.
Clarke had said she loved him… loved him. Nor just cared for him, or that he was important to her.
She loved him.
She smiled up at him through her tears, her face alight with happiness. He cupped her face with his hands, and as her tears continued to fall he rubbed them from her cheeks.
"I can't keep up," he teased, "so you're going to have to stop crying now. I like the kissing better than the crying, anyway."
Clarke gave him a watery laugh, and reached up to touch his cheek.
"If I stop crying, will you take me to bed? Because I'm going to die of longing if we aren't on my bed in the next two minutes."
Exultation filled Bellamy, but still, he had to say it. Had to make absolutely sure.
"You know damn well there's nothing I want more. But if we make love tonight, Clarke, I'm going to stay. And it won't just be because we've had a fucking awful day, and we got scared and needed comfort. It has to be because we want to be together. In every way."
"Yes," she said, smiling. "That's what I want, too."
He was up then, off the couch, scooping her into his arms in one smooth motion.
She giggled, startled. "I didn't say you had to carry me."
"It's faster."
Fifteen seconds later they were in Clarke's room, grabbing at buttons and belts and zippers so haphazardly that it was a wonder they didn't tear their clothes.
And then they were on the bed, naked, and lying in each other's arms.
"Clarke," he whispered, "I'm just so fucking in love with you."
She reached out to caress his face. "I've never felt this way before, Bellamy. Not even close."
And then the time for words was over.
XXXXXXXXXX
Clarke had made love with Bellamy before, but never like this. Never with such abandon.
This wasn't a sudden overwhelming desire for a near-stranger with whom she'd felt an intense connection. Nor was it a need for comfort and intimacy from the trusted person who was accompanying her on a life-changing journey.
This was something else altogether.
This Clarke was ready and eager, approaching sex with an open heart and nothing held back. Because this was a woman who was madly, dizzyingly, in love.
So she craved it all. Every touch, every caress, every intimate connection she'd tried so hard not to fantasize about for all these months. Everything she'd pretended to herself that she didn't want.
When Bellamy pulled her flush against him, the touch of their bodies skin-to-skin was electrifying. She felt like she was melting into him.
He groaned, sucking on the side of her neck, rubbing his hands up and down her body until her skin felt like it was on fire.
"I want to do everything with you at once," he said, his voice low and laced with need. "I want to touch and stroke and lick and suck every inch of your body. But right now, I just need to be inside you. Everything else is going to have to wait."
Clarke laughed, loving his openness because it was so like him. But mostly, at that moment, because it was what she wanted, too.
"How do you want me?" she said, heady with desire. She rolled onto her back, splaying her legs as widely as she could. "Will this do?"
"Oh, Christ! Yeah, that'll do just fucking fine," he said, his eyes following the line of her body from where she was cupping her own heavy breasts, down across the softness of her belly, to the junction of her legs where her fine blonde hair was already glistening.
He was moving over her, his cock heavy in his hand as he readied it to slide into her and give them both what they craved, when he stopped suddenly, a pained expression crossing his face.
"We can't forget the condom this time. Not again."
Clarke might have been tempted to tease him a little, but she could already see that he was barely holding it together, so she took him out of his misery.
"No need," she said, her eyes fixed on the point where he was rubbing himself wetly against her labia. "I had them reinsert my IUD."
Bellamy gaped at her. "Because you knew this was going to happen?"
She huffed a small laugh. "Not in a million years. I've just… always protected myself, except for that one time I didn't. And it felt like I needed to get back some control over my life."
"Okay. Well, whatever your reason, I'm just damn glad you did it."
She smiled at him coyly. "Me, too. And in that case…"
"Right," he said, waiting not a second longer to push himself inside her slick heat.
Bellamy groaned and then stilled, and it occurred to her that he might be fighting for control. For Clarke, the feeling was indescribable, and when he finally began to move inside her the sensation was exquisite.
Balancing on his knees, Bellamy grabbed Clarke's ass, lifting and pulling her more firmly onto his cock, using the leverage to intensify his thrusts to a slow but steady rhythm. She cooperated fully, pushing herself onto him while she continued to play with her breasts, sighing as her head rolled from side to side against the pillows.
It felt… wonderful. Fantastic. But even so, it wasn't enough.
"Harder!" she demanded of him. "Fuck me harder, Bellamy!"
"I don't want to hurt you, Clarke." He was speaking now in short heavy pants. "You just had a baby."
"You aren't! You won't! But your cock feels so fucking good in my cunt, and I just want more of it."
"Jesus! You can't say things like that to me or I won't last another ten seconds!"
Clarke glanced up at him from under half-lidded eyes, exulting when she saw his features were heavy with desire.
"Maybe I don't want to last, maybe I just want to come. I want so fucking bad to come with you inside me."
"Oh, fuck!" he growled, reaching down to rub her clit as he began to piston rapidly in and out of her.
"Oh, yeah, that's it," she moaned. "That's what I want."
And that was all it took.
She came hard, her back arching off the bed, a long, heavy wail issuing from her, a sound she was sure she'd never made before. When she felt the first splash inside her, she looked up just in time to see Bellamy's head thrown back in ecstasy.
Her orgasm felt like it lasted forever, the longest and strongest she could ever remember.
Seconds later, his climax finally over, Bellamy leaned down to kiss her sweetly, then pulled himself out of her, rolling away to land heavily beside her on the bed.
"God, that was amazing!" he said, still working hard to regulate his breathing. "And the only thing we did was missionary, with barely any foreplay. But I was so fucking turned on."
She rolled towards him onto her side and bent down for a kiss.
"Me, too. Do you think maybe it could have been all those months of holding ourselves back?"
His light laugh was wry. "Yeah, I suppose that might've had something to do with it. The only problem," he added, turning on his side to face her, "is that in my hurry to get inside you, I skipped a few steps. Steps I really, really like."
"Yeah?" she smirked, "and what steps are those?"
"Well," he reached out a tentative hand, lightly caressing her right breast. "I really like to play with these. But… since you're nursing… is that still okay?"
She smiled, pressing his hand more firmly against her breast. "It is. Just… be gentle. But, yeah, you can suck on my tits a little. See if you like the taste of my milk."
"Oh, god," he said, "I think maybe you've just stumbled upon one of my fantasies."
Bellamy leaned over and gently pulled her breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue across the nipple and tugging lightly. Clarke hadn't expected to become aroused, because after all, wasn't this was what the baby did every day? But somehow, with Bellamy, it was so entirely different.
He groaned when a small amount of her milk dribbled into his mouth, and when she saw it on his lips she felt the wetness gush out if her and onto her thighs. When he moved to her left breast, giving it the same light touch, the same small tugs with his mouth, she moaned from the feel of it.
"Is this turning you on?" he whispered, reaching down to rub between her legs. "I think there must be a direct line from your nipples to your clit, Clarke, because it's all wet and swollen again."
Bellamy kept up the assault, lightly on her breasts, more firmly on her clit, and soon she was writhing beside him, unable to control her response. It wasn't long before she was coming again.
"Oh, god," she said, "I didn't at all expect that to happen." She frowned. "Now I'm going to have to completely block that from my mind whenever I nurse Norah!"
Bellamy threw back his head and laughed.
"Hey, it's not funny," she said, but she was grinning at him.
"So I think I need to pee and take a shower," she said after a moment.
"Yeah, okay, I think maybe I'll join you."
When she gaped at him, he laughed again.
"Not for the pee, Clarke, just the shower."
She frowned. "Hey, are you going to turn out to be insatiable or something?"
"Why would you say that?" he smirked. "I just want to get clean."
But in the shower later, after several minutes of passionate kissing, when he entered her from behind, her breasts pressed up against the glass tub surround, Clarke had no objections whatsoever.
"I love fucking you," he said, the warm water cascading over them. "I think I'd like to do it often."
"God, yes," she panted, coming for the third time. "That sounds fantastic."
When they emerged a few minutes later wrapped in towels, they heard the first stirrings of their daughter beginning to fuss for her next meal. Clarke pulled on some panties and a loose button-down shirt and hurried into the nursery.
"Hey, can I come and sit with you while you nurse her?" Bellamy asked, hovering in the doorway wearing nothing but his boxers.
Clarke settled into her rocker, opening her shirt and placing Norah against her breast.
"I don't know," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "Can you keep your hands to yourself?"
Bellamy grinned as he dropped onto the floor beside her. "I can try."
XXXXXXXXXX
Bellamy wasn't stupid enough to think that even though he'd survived the school shooting unscathed, he might not suffer other consequences from his ordeal.
And he was right.
It was a couple of weeks later, after he'd come down a little from the euphoric heights of finally being with Clarke that he had the first nightmare. He couldn't really remember any of the details after he woke up thrashing around and moaning, but fortunately Clarke was right there beside him to calm him down, since they now spent nearly every night together at either her place or his.
When it happened a second, and then a third time, and he began to feel a little anxious, Clarke talked him into seeing a mental health professional.
"I can't stand to see you suffer when you did something so heroic," she told him, and so he made the appointment as much for her sake as his own.
A few sessions with Dr. Gabriel was enough to convince the doctor that he didn't have anything as serious as PTSD. Mostly, Gabriel told him, it was a matter of him coming to terms with the fact that life was neither as safe nor as certain as Bellamy might once have thought. And that he'd have to learn to live with that fact without becoming either hyper-vigilant or over-controlling.
Once he'd accepted that in his head, the nightmares seemed to stop, and the anxiety began to slowly fade. Until eventually, he hardly ever thought about that terrible day, and the fact that he might easily have died.
As it turned out, by some miracle no one had died that afternoon, including Adam Sterling. The Sterling family was so grateful to Bellamy that the school wanted to make a big deal of the heroism of one of its teachers. But while he was happy to accept the family's gratitude, Bellamy persuaded the school to just… let it go.
But the incident did make one lasting change in Bellamy: he never again took for granted anyone he loved, his family or friends. Or the job he enjoyed so much. Nor any aspect of what he'd come to understand was a very fortunate life.
XXXXXXXXXX
Clarke had suggested to Bellamy that maybe they should keep their new relationship on the down low for a bit, at least until they both had time to get used to it. He'd have liked to shout it from the rooftops, but he was also a lot more interested in making Clarke happy than he was in getting his own way.
"Sure," he shrugged. "I guess secrets can be hot."
She grinned. "Exactly."
She did decide to tell Abby, however, the very next time she and Marcus stopped by to see the baby.
"Bellamy and I have figured out we're really more than co-parents, Mom. We're… a couple."
Her mother's reaction was surprisingly underwhelming.
Abby simply nodded and smiled. "I'm pretty sure that Bellamy figured that out a long time ago, Clarke, and I knew it was only ever a matter of time before you caught up."
Clarke found she had absolutely nothing to say to that.
As to keeping it from their friends… well… in the end, it didn't matter.
Octavia dropped by Clarke's apartment to see Norah one Saturday a couple of weeks later. And while Bellamy would have sworn that he and Clarke acted exactly the same as always, Octavia watched for a while as they got the baby ready for an outing to the park, blinked at them a few times, and suddenly said, "Holy shit! You guys are fucking!"
"Jesus, O! Could you have put that any more crudely?" Bellamy snapped, reminded for the zillionth time exactly how blunt his sister could be.
"Yeah, but I'm right, aren't I? And… wait! If you're complaining I'm being crude, that means," she paused and he watched as her eyes filled with happy tears, "you guys aren't just sleeping together, you are together."
Bellamy sighed and said nothing, but Clarke just laughed softly, and as their eyes locked they both knew the jig was up.
"We hadn't really wanted to say anything yet," Clarke tried to explain.
"Why the hell not? I mean, it took you long enough! And everyone'll be happy for you."
Bellamy sighed again. "Maybe they will, O, but that's not the point. So it'd be cool if you could kind of… keep this to yourself."
Octavia frowned. "I'll think about it, Bell. Or… how about this? I definitely won't tell Murphy."
Bellamy just shook his head and invited Octavia to join them on their jaunt to the park, but she said she didn't have time, that she'd only stopped by for a few minutes, and left soon after.
"So what do you think?" Clarke asked Bellamy as they strolled down the sidewalk toward the park a few minutes later. "Will Octavia keep her mouth shut?"
Bellamy snorted. "Not a chance."
And indeed, by the following weekend when they met up with the gang at Murphy's bar — Clarke's first group get-together — it was obvious that they all knew what was up. Not that any of them said anything, although Monty and Harper were all smiles, Eric Jackson grinned and nodded at them, and Miller gave them a discreet thumbs up.
But Murphy — who clearly had been told by someone — was having none of this low-key shit.
"So, what? I'm supposed to act like it's a big goddamned secret? Like they weren't already eye-fucking each other the first day I met Clarke? How the hell do we think she got knocked up in the first place? Does anyone here think Blake was maybe just… doing her a favor?"
Emori rolled her eyes in silent exasperation, while Bellamy complained, "Hey, Murphy, how about you show a little respect?"
Murphy shrugged. "I just call 'em like I see 'em."
Bellamy was beginning to look really pissed, but it was Clarke who responded, and she was all smiles.
"Hey, Murphy, like I said the first time we met, you really do not disappoint. But if I ever again hear the terms knocked-up or eye-fucking in reference to Bellamy or me, I'm going to knee you in the balls so hard you won't be able to walk." She paused, the pleasant smile never leaving her face. "Of course, I'll be happy to treat your injury afterwards."
Bellamy snorted while Murphy gaped at her, but Clarke merely glanced around the table, asking, "So what's good to eat here?"
XXXXXXXXXX
Clarke's lease was up at the end of the calendar year, and with some trepidation Bellamy asked her to move in with him.
"We're together practically every night now anyway, and my house is plenty big enough for all of us. Whereas this apartment is a little tight…"
Clarke smiled. "You don't really have to talk me into it, Bellamy. I love your house. The only reason we don't spend more time there is that Norah's nursery here is so nice."
"That won't be a problem," he said eagerly, thrilled that she seemed willing. "Just give me a few days."
True to his word, Bellamy got rid of Octavia's now-unused bed and all the other furniture in his second bedroom, found the matching yellow paint color at Lowe's, and repainted the bedroom walls. Clarke was all smiles when he showed her the renovated room a week later.
"I can't believe you did all this so fast."
He shrugged. "Let's just say I was motivated."
Clarke and Norah moved into Bellamy's house the day after Christmas, and by the time the new year rolled around it felt to both of them like they'd always lived there.
Winter finally gave way to spring, and their daughter thrived and grew and, surprising no one, showed signs of being an early talker. She was barely ten months old when, to Bellamy's utter delight, "Dada" tentatively rolled off her lips. Clarke teased him that he was hearing things, but when "Mama" soon followed, she was completely onboard.
"This is pretty great," Clarke told him as they sat on their back porch swing one June night, the scent of roses heavy in the air, and their daughter tucked safely in her crib. "I'd almost want to say that things are perfect, but I don't want to jinx it."
"Things are pretty great," he agreed, "but not quite… perfect."
"No?" She turned to him in surprise. "How would you change things?"
It wasn't exactly an answer when Bellamy wrapped an around her shoulder and leaned down to kiss her.
"I think," he said softly, "that we ought to do something really special for Norah's first birthday."
"Yeah? What did you have in mind?"
His answer wasn't at all what she expected.
XXXXXXXXXX
They told only Abby and Octavia, this time Bellamy swearing his sister to secrecy under pain of never seeing her beloved niece again.
"Hey!" Octavia said, sounding slightly miffed. "I know when to keep my mouth shut."
Clarke laughed at the beleaguered expression on Bellamy's face, telling him later, "You wouldn't want her any other way."
But this time Octavia did manage to be discreet. So it was only after the guests actually arrived for what the invitations had described as "Norah's One-Year Birthday Bash," and were ushered through the house to the back yard, where several rows of chairs had been lined up on either side of a wide aisle, that they began to understand that they might have been duped.
"Oh, my god," Harper whispered excitedly to Monty as they took a seat. "Is this what I think it is?"
"Beats me," Monty shrugged. "I know nothing."
Sitting right next to them, Murphy looked like he was about to weigh in, when Emori suddenly clapped her hand over his mouth.
"John Murphy," she hissed, "I swear to god that if you do or say one single thing to upset Bellamy or Clarke today, I will absolutely kill you!"
Murphy blinked and nodded, but when she finally took her hand away, he growled, "Geez! Why the hell would you think I'd do that?"
Emori just sighed, but Harper couldn't help giggling.
The invitations had been for two o'clock, but since they were for a casual birthday party, it wasn't until after two-thirty that the last of the invited guests were escorted into the back yard, all of them gaping in disbelief and speculating quietly on what might be happening next.
A hush fell over the crowd when Indra finally rose from her seat near the front and turned to greet them.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Indra Forrest and I've known Clarke ever since she came to work at Ark City General. Most of you have probably figured out by now that you've been invited to a little more today than just Norah's birthday party."
A small squeal was heard from the vicinity of Harper McIntyre's seat.
"Yeah," Indra grinned, "I'm pretty excited, too, especially since Clarke remembered that besides working at the hospital I also do some part-time ministry at the Ark City Community Church. So when she asked me to officiate today, I couldn't have been more thrilled."
Norah, seated happily in the front row on Grandma Abby's lap, chose that moment to let out a pint-sized giggle.
Indra smiled at her. "We'll get to your birthday party soon, sweetie, just as soon as I get your parents hitched."
That brought a laugh from the crowd.
"And in case you're all wondering why Bellamy and Clarke chose to do things this way, it was because they wanted as little fuss as possible. And personally," she grinned, "I think not telling anyone ahead of time pretty much guaranteed that."
She nodded to Octavia who was standing in the back and said, "But I think the time has come, so if all you lovely folks would like to stand now…"
The clatter from their collective rising was followed by immediate quiet as soon as they heard the first strains of Elvis Presley's mellow baritone.
Wise men say only fools rush in
But I can't help falling in love with you
Shall I stay, would it be a siN
If I can't help falling in love with you
And then there they were, Clarke and Bellamy, walking down the wide grassy aisle. Not arm in arm, but instead hand in hand, as if that was how they planned to go through life.
They were dressed more for a garden party than their own wedding, she in a lacy white sundress, he in khakis and a dark blue button-down shirt. And while they probably didn't intend to ignore their guests, as they walked across their yard they seemed to have eyes only for each other.
Like a river flows
Surely to the sea
Darling, so it goes
Some things are meant to be
The music stopped as they reached Indra, and she began to speak.
"Clarke and Bellamy, you've asked me to officiate at your wedding, and in this state it's only required that you each agree to marry the other. I know you've written your own vows, so I'm just going to let you do your thing."
They nodded and turned to face each other.
Bellamy cleared his throat, plagued by a sudden anxiety that he'd stumble over the vows and make a fool of himself. But then… what did it matter? Because he'd still be married to Clarke, and that was all he cared about.
"The day I met you was one of the worst days of my life, and I could never have foreseen it was also going to be one of the best.
"I think I loved you almost from the start, but I just kept telling myself I was too damn old to have such huge crush. But then everything you did, and everything you were, just made me love you more.
"Before we met, I didn't know where my life was headed. It didn't seem to have any path or purpose. But all the time it was headed right here, to our life with our daughter, and this moment with you."
His voice began to break as he reached the last few words,
"I love you, Clarke, and there is nothing in my life that I ever wanted more than to marry you."
Clarke sighed and smiled, then seemed to suddenly recall that it was now her turn.
She took a deep breath.
"When I met you, Bellamy, I started to fall so fast that it scared me to death. But then, I was always scared. Scared of being vulnerable, scared of choosing the wrong person, scared of having my heart broken.
"And then a wonderful, crazy, and super-scary thing happened — I got pregnant with Norah. And that's when I really began to understand your true worth. Right from the start you couldn't have been more supportive, and now you're the most amazing father in the universe.
"I'd say that it was then, when we realized we were going to be parents, that I let myself really fall for you, but the truth is that I never really had a choice about it. I've loved you from the start and it just took the prospect of… of losing you to make me see the truth. So I can't imagine being happier than I am at this moment when I'm becoming your wife."
Clarke had made it through her vows, but the tears had begun to fall as soon as she'd mentioned Bellamy's brush with danger.
Indra cleared her throat noisily. "So… do you two have rings?"
"Oh. Yeah." Bellamy grinned, shaking his head at himself. "Right here," he said, pulling them from his pocket.
"Well, if you'd like to exchange them…"
And suddenly, the music started up again.
Take my hand, take my whole life too
For I can't help falling in love with you
For I can't help falling in love with you
Bellamy pushed the gold circlet onto Clarke's shaking hand, and a moment later she did the same for him. And as the song swelled to its finale they stared at one another, hands entwined, as though they couldn't believe they'd actually done it.
As soon as the last note ended, Indra said loudly, "I now pronounce you husband and wife."
Waiting for no instructions, Bellamy swept Clarke up into the kind of kiss that brought both hoots and applause from their guests. She finally pulled away, laughing, as he grinned down at her.
Afterwards, they both claimed it had been a great day, and that they'd enjoyed every minute of it. But the truth was that if Lincoln hadn't taken a whole lot of pictures, Clarke wasn't sure she'd have remembered half of it.
Still, their wedding day had turned out exactly like they'd wanted it to: a happy yet simple celebration with friends and family.
Much later, after everyone left, they finally found the time to celebrate their new union in a much more robust way. As they cuddled together sleepily afterwards, Bellamy remarked that it was nice that Clarke's mother had volunteered to take Norah for a couple of days.
"Yeah," Clarke nodded, pouting just a little, "except I already miss her."
"Me, too," he agreed. "But it's already after one, and you won't be missing her at 6 a.m. tomorrow when she's waking Abby up instead of us."
Clarke huffed a laugh. "True enough."
"Yeah, I'd much rather sleep in, and then later on engage in more pleasurable adult activities," he smirked, cupping her breast.
Clarke poked him in the ribs. "I've been right all along. You are insatiable."
Bellamy smiled. "Mostly, I think I'm just… happy."
"I'm glad," she said, yawning hugely as she lay her head on his chest. "But right now I really need to sleep."
He kissed her forehead. "Yeah, get some sleep. We can resume our almost perfect life in the morning."
Clarke's eyes flew open and she raised her head to look down at him.
"Wait a minute. Didn't you tell me that if I married you, your life would be perfect?"
Bellamy shrugged, his shoulders sliding against the pillow.
"Yeah, but now that I think of it, there's this one tiny little thing that would make it even better."
The lights were off, but there was just enough moonlight for Clarke to see his crooked half-smile and the glint his eyes.
Her mouth twisted in amusement. "A tiny little thing? Can we maybe think about that next year?"
Clarke lay back down and turned over, so Bellamy wrapped his body around hers from behind, pulling her tightly against him.
"Next year works for me," he agreed. "And now I'm perfectly happy."
"Thank god," she murmured, teasing. And then a moment later, "Me, too."