A/N: This update has been long in coming, I know. I started college back up last week, then had family come into town this past week, so I haven't had much of an opportunity to write. Hopefuly, it wont be so hard to get updates out, but you never know. But in the meantime, have some Bellamy!

"Bellamy, your hands are magic!" the auburn haired woman—Trina—murmured.

Bellamy smirked as he rubbed circles into her back. A few suggestive glances, some small talk, and flirting had led to Bellamy giving Trina a massage in a private sector of the bar.

"You keep that up and I'm going to have to follow you to Columbus" she said looking over her shoulder seductively.

Bellamy's smirk grew, taking her boldness in stride. "Yeah? Well I'm thinking I can't wait that long."

Trina slipped off the bar stool and turned towards Bellamy, splaying her hands on his shoulders and lightly drumming her thumbs on his collarbone. "Well," she drawled, "there's a hotel five minutes from here."

Bellamy raised an eyebrow in consent and reached for his backpack.

"Bellamy!"

Bellamy looked around, surprised to hear his name. His surprise tuned into confusion when he spotted Clarke standing at the entryway of the bar, waving enthusiastically. While he and Clarke were amiable with each other, they never sought out the other's company, unless circumstances were dire enough to warrant the other's help. If Clarke calling him—in a public place no less—wasn't enough to merit suspicion, her exuberant waving was. Clarke had never liked garnering attention in public.

"Clarke" Bellamy greeted her, slightly perturbed his exit with Trina was delayed. His annoyance waned quickly though, when he noticed that Clarke was acting much more uncharacteristic than he had originally thought. His eyes narrowed as he watched Clarke amble over with an enormous grin on her face. Clarke had never grinned at him like this before. The most he had been able to elicit from her were quirked lips. Clarke's smiles were rare; when she was amused her lips would twitch and threaten to break into a smile, but they rarely did. Her smiles were reserved for her close friends and they most certainly never occurred simply because of his presence. His confusion over Clarke's behavior amplified when Clarke finally reached him and looked him up and down before throwing her arms around his neck. Bellamy looked down at her in disbelief when he heard her giggle. Clarke giggled? He glanced over at Trina, only to see her looking at Clarke with no small amount of annoyance.

"Um, Clarke?" Bellamy asked. Waving, giggling, and now hugging? Clarke's behavior was starting to worry him.

Clarke finally released Bellamy and turned excitedly to Trina, smiling animatedly before turning her affections to Trina, wrapping her in a hug similar to the one she had given Bellamy.

Trina gaped at Clarke's actions and glared at Bellamy over Clarke's shoulder, all the while trying to detangle herself from Clarke's grasp. Bellamy might have laughed at the situation, had he not been so concerned over Clarke's peculiar behavior. "Clarke, this is Trina, Trina this is Clarke." Bellamy gestured feebly between the two ladies. "Clarke is my best friend's kid sister. She's going to the same wedding in Columbus."

Trina frowned. Kid is right. If the girl wasn't mental, she was drunk or high as hell. Disgusting. She caught Bellamy's eyes again and raised a brow. Her glare prompted him to action, and he gently loosened Clarke's arms from Trina. "Okay, Clarke, can I see you for a minute?" Clarke's lips twisted into a pout as Bellamy led her to an empty table. "Can you just sit there for a second?" Clarke continued to pout, but sat obediently on one of the stools. Relieved, Bellamy turned and walked back toward Trina, who was waiting with an impatient frown. Bellamy leaned against the bar, scratching his head sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what's gotten in to her." Bellamy chuckled. "I think someone slipped her ecstasy."

Trina smirked and drew closer to Bellamy, looking up at him through hooded lashes. "I could do with some ecstasy. The good, old-fashioned kind."

Bellamy inwardly sighed. As tempted as he was to continue his romp with Trina, he knew he couldn't leave Clarke alone in a bar, as high as she was on god-knows what. Instead of answering, he looked over Trina's shoulder at Clarke, who flirting with a guy Bellamy could only describe as a gangster. Bald, huge arms, tattoos galore.

Trina followed his gaze and turned back to Bellamy with a scoff. "Oh come on Bellamy. She'll be fine."

Again, Bellamy didn't answer and looked pointedly at Trina. Trina huffed and grabbed her purse, taking the hint. She spun away on her heel, looking more than a little insulted.

Bellamy watched her go, somewhat disappointed. Trina had the full package—chest, ass, and legs. He was only human, who wouldn't be disappointed to watch that walk away? But Clarke was Octavia's best friend, who would kill him if anything happened to Clarke. And although he would never admit it, even under the circumstance of impending death, Bellamy cared for Clarke the same way he cared for his sister. If anything he felt responsible for her, with her family two thousand miles away. When Clarke had first moved to San Diego, both Abby and Wick had made him promise to look out for her in their absence. Responsibility was not an act he took lightly. As much as he wanted to cave to his carnal urges, he knew that right now, Clarke was more important than getting laid by a stranger he had met at the airport. With a sigh, Bellamy turned and started when he saw Clarke touching the bald man's head, who was eyeing her chest appreciatively. A surge of protectiveness rose in his chest and he strode over to where Clarke was giggling, completely oblivious to the man looking down her shirt. Bellamy glared pointedly at the man and grabbed Clarke's arm, leading her away to a new table on the other side of the bar. Clarke turned in his grasp and waved at the man, who was now ogling her ass. Bellamy's grip tightened and quickened his pace, roughly depositing Clarke at the table. Clarke yelped when she hit the seat and glared sullenly at Bellamy. Bellamy rolled his eyes and strode over to the bar to get a pitcher of water from the bartender. When he returned, Clarke had folded her arms on the table and was looking at the polished wood blankly. Bellamy sat down next to Clarke and poured her a glass of water. "Drink up, princess. Whatever the hell it was you took needs to flush out of your system." Bellamy grinned wryly when Clarke's owlish gaze rose from the table to meet his. "Can't have her majesty buzzed on a plane now, can we?"

Clarke's brow furrowed at the nickname, but she obediently reached for her glass and began to drink. Bellamy watched as she drained the glass before proceeding to refill it. Clarke lifted the glass to her lips but stared at the water instead of drinking it. Bellamy leaned back in his seat, folded his arms across his chest, and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry!"

Bellamy's eyes shot open at Clarke's outburst and looked at her in surprise. Clarke had placed the glass back on the table and was looking earnestly at him with tears filling her blue orbs.

"I'm sorry I screwed everything up, I'm sorry you didn't get laid."

Bellamy stared. Clarke was upset because he didn't get laid? Clarke had rarely ever shown any interest in his conquests, but when she had, it was always dripped with distain.

"I'm sorry I wasn't perfect, I'm sorry I cared so much, I'm sorry for loving you, for thinking you felt the same, I'm sorry for wanting something that wasn't mine..."

Bellamy's mouth dropped at Clarke's words. At first he thought Clarke unreasonably upset over his missed opportunity. But hearing Clarke ramble on with apologies, he realized she was talking about someone else. For the first time, Bellamy finally noticed that Clarke was alone. Where was her mystery man? He pondered this new revelation for a minute before it clicked: Clarke was speaking of her mystery man. Whatever had happened between them between now and this morning when he spoke with O had apparently been enough to merit a breakup. And a nasty one at that, judging by Clarke's rambling and tears. Finally, Bellamy snapped out of his trance and interrupted Clarke's babbling.

"Clarke! It's okay, I forgive you." Bellamy gently shook Clarke's arm to get her attention. "I forgive you. Now, why don't you try to think of something happy, okay? Like, you're going to your mom's wedding." Bellamy was aching to know the details of what had caused the always composed Clarke to become such an emotional wreck, but he decided that if she wanted him to know, she would tell him in her own time.

Clarke stopped talking, but instead of cheering up—as Bellamy had hoped—she began to sulk. "Her second wedding."

Bellamy rolled his eyes. "So? You like Kane. He's been a part of your life before you were born. And he was your dad's best friend. He taught you self-defense and how to drive stick-shift. He became a father figure to you when your dad died. You've never had a problem with him before. Why now?"

Clarke choked back a sob and whispered, "He isn't my real dad."

Bellamy sighed and moved over to the chair next to Clarke. He had never been one to offer her comfort before, but if there was anything he understood, it was remarriage. His own biological dad had divorced his mom and hadn't contacted them since. Aurora had remarried three years later to Max Cohen. Clarke continued to gasp out sobs, so Bellamy began to rub circles on her back. Tenderness was uncharacteristic of Bellamy, so he responded gruffly, "Whatever. Things didn't go exactly as I planned today, but you don't see me crying."

Clarke stiffened under his touch. "Forget it. You wouldn't understand."

"I hate it when girls say that. What does that even mean?"

"It means you don't understand the pressure of being the last unattached female in your entire family." Clarke said bitterly.

"I wouldn't understand the pressure?" Bellamy huffed. "My parents are like parakeets. 'When are you getting married, when are you getting married, when are you getting married.'"

Clarke groaned and placed her head on the table. "I should have known he was married!"

Ah, Bellamy thought. Now we're getting somewhere. "Married, huh? Your mystery man was married?"

Clarke nodded her head and proceeded to relay the events that had led up to meeting him in the bar.

Bellamy clenched his jaw as he listened to Clarke's story, an anger brewing for a man he had never met. Clarke was no Octavia; he wouldn't go seek this Finn out and pound the living daylights out of him for Clarke like he knew he would for his sister. He did however, feel something akin to a possessiveness he had never felt before simmer in his gut. He couldn't explain the cause of such a feeling, so he shoved it as far from his mind as he could and focused instead on things he knew and could control.

"I feel like such a loser." Clarke finished her tale and began to repeatedly whack her head against the table.

"No Clar-." Bellamy sighed when he noticed Clarke's actions and shook her shoulder. "Clarke. You're not a loser. If anyone is a loser it's that lying, scumbag, son of a bitch."

"I know, I know."

"Then why are you still crying?" Bellamy questioned, genuinely confused. He'd watched Clarke date multiple men over the years, but he'd never seen her so torn-up over a breakup before. The Clarke he knew would never waste an extra breath over an ex, especially one that was as big of a douchebag as Finn.

Clarke chuckled harshly and then looked up at Bellamy with red-rimmed eyes. "But what if that lying, scumbag, son of a bitch was the best that I could do?"

Bellamy almost laughed out loud at that. A lying, scumbag, son of a bitch, the best that Clarke Griffin could do? She was valedictorian in high school, graduated college at the top of her class, was making a name for herself in the art industry, her mother was a world-renowned surgeon, her step-father owned one of the largest security agencies in the States. There was no best that Clarke Griffin could do; she was the best. If their parents weren't such good friends, Bellamy knew he would have never run in her social circle. For a time, he had even resented her and Wick for it. But there could only be so much animosity between two families who were best friends. Eventually he got over it, and made a best friend in the process. "Look at the bright side Clarke. You're single now. Guys love that." Clarke groaned and rolled her eyes at his words. Bellamy ignored Clarke's reaction. "And you're pretty, right? You're funny, you smell good." Clarke smiled weakly at that. Bellamy grinned and plowed on. "You're smart. I mean for a girl." Clarke shoved him on his shoulder and Bellamy laughed. Clarke seemed to be returning to normalcy. "You're compassionate, and stubborn, and you put up with O and me." Bellamy grinned at his lame joke and glanced to Clarke to see if she had done the same. Instead, he saw her head lying on the table and her eyes closed. He nudged her elbow several times before leaning back in his chair with a huff. "And you're completely passed out. Great."

A/N: How crazy was that last episode? Is anyone else going to die on Wednesday? I know I am!