3.

There is one quote from the play 'The Mourning Bride' by William Congreve that I find really appropriate to describe my current situation, 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'. I don't whether this man was a genius or simply had a death wish for reaching and actually making such an opinion regarding women's anger when they are rejected in love, but in fairness I have dealt with many women in my life and I state that his words are true.

Not that this was about Clarke being rejected by me, not by a long shot, but it was obvious that her anger towards me was equal to mine for dragging her down to the station like she was some other perp without having any knowledge as to why she was being brought in for questioning. However unlike most women who are or has been scorned, Clarke has the special talent in driving me insane, and when she was pissed at me she used her talent to the fullest. Lucky me…

Bellamy sat in the chair next to Miller, with his arms folded against his chest, staring across the mental-made table where Clarke was sitting with a bored expression on her face. They had been sitting in the interrogation room for maybe twenty minutes, hoping that they could smoke her out and get her to confess her crimes. Whether it had anything to do with their current case or not didn't matter. It all would simply be a bonus after the hell Clarke had put everyone through for the last three years. Unfortunately for them was that his ex happens to the most stubborn and infuriating person you could ever come up against and the worst thing about it was that she was very aware that she pissing him off and was actually amused by it.

"So are you boys going to tell me why I'm here or should I continue to sit back and watch Bellamy's impression of a constipated David Caruso?" Clarke said dryly. Miller actually chuckled by her witty response meanwhile he just glared at her and was sincerely pissed over her attitude and lack of respect. However he fought the intense urge to talk back and instead pulled out a photo of the dead woman from the crime scene and handed it over to her.

"Do you know her?" Bellamy asked, with a tone that pretty much stated that he was tired and pissed and was most certainly not in the mood to play her taunts.

Clarke looked at the photo and smiled gently, "Ah, yes. I remember that summer she was a roadie on the road and I was just a high school student working on college applications. It was a love I shall never forget…"

"Good that you find this amusing," Bellamy interrupted, knowing fully well that she was just yanking his chain and was lying through her teeth.

"I have no idea who she is," Clarke sighed annoyed, and handed back the photo to Miller while keeping her gaze fully on him. "But the question is why do you think that I know her? So are you going to tell me or…"

That depends on whether you decide to play fair or not, Princess. Bellamy knew that Clarke could be rational, and in most circumstances she was, but apparently rationality went straight out the window where he and their past was concerned. Which made working and questioning her, a very trying task, especially since neither of them was willing to bow down to the other in defeat. Luckily for both of them, Miller was there to act as the mediator between the two of them and calmly explained the situation to her.

"The reason we brought you in was because our coroner found something peculiar during the autopsy, something we believe is connected to you and we were sort of hoping if you could please clear the air."

Clarke's curiosity was clearly peaked when she asked, "Something connected to me? Like what exactly makes you think I know this woman?"

That was the moment Bellamy seized the opportunity to hand her another photo of the victim, but unlike the last picture this photo had been taken at the morgue, at a specific spot that wouldn't have been visual unless the bed sheet covering the body had been removed.

"The fact that your name was written on her tight with a black marker would be our first guess, then there was the whole issue with you being the first to discover the body and that you have a history in getting…close to police business. Shall I go on?"

A frown appeared on her face, "No, thanks. I think I'm good." Then she turned to look at the photo once more, probably hoping that it would spark up something. But apparently it didn't since she handed over the photo again with a dejected sigh. "I'm sorry, but I don't know this woman at all, and I certainly don't know why she has my name written on her body. So I'm sorry but I can't help you."

"Right," Bellamy replied, taking back the photo and put it in the case file. He was actually doubtful she was being honest with him, because experience had told him that though she might sound honest and sincere in her answers and actions that wasn't always the case. Clarke had more than once undermined and lied to him for different reasons and the event that happened three years ago didn't exactly help proving her trustworthy nature. "So should I expect you sticking your nose in our investigation as soon as you leave the station or better yet as soon you go out that door? Better yet should I just wait until you get someone else dead? After all everyone around you end up dead."

Bad move, Bellamy. Bellamy realized when he saw those blue eyes turn into flames of fury. Apparently he had struck a nerve with his words since she stood up from her chair, looking down at him before she answered coldly, "I can understand your resentment, hell I even encourage you to have it because I deserve it and more, but know this Bellamy after what happened three years ago I haven't worked a single case since then. No more sticking my nose where it doesn't belong and no more putting my safety at risk. So I guess you finally got what you always wanted from me, Bellamy. To stop being a PI and ruining people's lives as you nicely put it."

She didn't even wait to hear him response on the matter because she was already out the door, to get as far away as she could from him, and he didn't try to do anything to stop her from doing so. He didn't shout or run after her. He simply sat there with his thoughts going haywire with the new information he had just received from her as well as the growing confusion as to what he was supposed to do now since they currently had no leads on the case and the mystery of Clarke's return in Arkadia kept escalating out of comprehension. Was what she said the truth or was she simply trying to sway my attention elsewhere? Whatever was going on I have full intention to find out the answers for myself, and definitely not take the words from the Princess again.

She had always known or at least expected dealing with Bellamy after everything that went down was going to be hard, but she didn't think that it was going to be so smothering and suffocating to be around him again and hear those horrible and rejecting words. Then again I was an idiot for thinking that there was a small chance he would be happy to see me and that once he got over his initial suppressed feelings we could be civil towards each other. Maybe be happy again. That was truly a foolish thought on my part.

Instead of going back home to cry and sleep off the exhausting and horrible day behind her, Clarke decided to go to the facility where hers and Lincoln's new art gallery was going to be. The walk from the station to the gallery was surprisingly short since the location was just two blocks away, which made Clarke wonder if this was an intentional choice from Lincoln's side since he had been responsible for finding the perfect place for their business, but either way it didn't really matter.

Once she arrived at the soon-to-be art gallery she retrieved her key and opened the door. The room was barely lit and pretty dusty, but you could still make out the white-colored walls and the staircase that led to the second floor that she and Lincoln had plans on using as their art studio. It was a good location to have their gallery. There was no doubt about it. It was even better than she had first expected and after Lincoln showed her photos of the place, but right now it worked as the perfect place for her to hide and where no one would try or assume to look for her.

She sat down on one of the steps and her face fell into her hands. Tears streamed down from her eyes and her entire body shook out of control like an earthquake. It was a pathetic sight in her opinion. She had promised herself that she wasn't broken and he wasn't worth being broken over, but here she was broken and alone. Was this the price I have to pay for my mistakes? If it is then I wonder how long my reasons would good enough for me to pretend that everything was still good and that I'm not literally breaking apart. Although that's clearly a lie otherwise I wouldn't be sitting here crying my eyes out.

Her sobbing was uncontrollable and inconsolable at this point that she didn't even hear the door open up until Lincoln's warm and gentle voice said, "When I stopped by your place I heard from that Raven girl that the police showed up and brought you in for questioning, and assuming the worse I thought you would go some place no one here in town would know how to find you."

She looked up to meet his gaze before she let out a sound that was a mixture between a chuckle and a sob. "You found me, because you were probably the only one who was looking and actually wanted to find me."

Lincoln shrugged his shoulders and took a seat next to her. She leaned in closer and let her head go down and rest on his shoulder. A gesture that could have easily been mistaken for a something more than comfort between friends, but it was exactly just that and it would never ever be anything more than that as far as Clarke and Lincoln was concerned about their relationship.

"Sorry I didn't go with you to the hospital," Clarke apologized, feeling bad for leaving him alone after he was injured due to her incapability to face her mother at the moment.

Lincoln nodded, "I can understand why you didn't and I don't blame you for it. Although I did learn that I should under no circumstance say your name in the presence of others unless I want to be treated like a savage."

"Sorry," Clarke said sheepishly.

"It's okay," Lincoln reassured. "However there is something I would like to ask you. You mention when we met that you have done some terrible things, made mistakes you wished you could take back, but you never went into details as to what you did and seeing as everyone in town treat you like an outcast I guess I'm just curious as to what you did."

Of course he wanted to know. Clarke ranted mentally to herself. The whole town would probably liked to know why I was willing to let things spiral out of control and people was hurt or killed because of it.

Dreading the worse, she reached the decision that she might as well give him the easiest version than giving him the whole complicated version that involved Bellamy and everyone else in the mix. If things turned out the way she assumed it would the chances are that he will learn about from someone else sooner or later.

"Okay," Clarke sighed wearily. "You know how I told you how I used to be a private eye?"

Lincoln nodded.

"Well, while working on a case I came upon some information, important information, and I choose to withhold the information I had for the sake of protecting my loved ones. Of course it was revealed after the catastrophe had happened that I knew about it. Ultimately I was resented and branded as an outcast by everyone, so I left and haven't showed up since. That is until now…"

This was here she expected him to shy away and reject her for being the horrible human being everyone else in town accused her of being, but strangely enough he didn't do either of those things. Instead he pulled her closer to her and said gently, "You know about my past in the military, how I was ordered to kill innocent people, which I refused to do, and afterwards ordered to cover it up by one of my fellow officers. When I didn't do it I was punished and later dishonorably discharged for crimes I didn't do, but never mind that. The point is that we both made mistakes and if you didn't shy away from me when you learned the truth then I should do the same courtesy to you. Besides, the past should stay in the past and we move on to a brighter and happier future."

"That would be nice," Clarke moved her gaze to look at him. "But being here, with these people doesn't make moving on any easier. Being constantly reminded of my mistakes and everything I have lost…"

Lincoln interrupted, obviously understanding the underlining issues behind her words. "Look, if you regret the choices you have made then you should try everything in order to find the happiness you want and deserves. Whether it is to fix your messed-up relationships or returning to your old profession as a PI and solve this case that I know you are fighting the urge to jump into, that's fully up to you."

She didn't say anything, simply thinking over his words carefully and judging what she was going to do and if her choice would be the right one in the end.

"So what are you going to do, Clarke?"

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Thank you guys so much for the reviews, favorite and followings, and I'm glad so many of you got interested in my story. So I hope you guys like the this chapter, and the next one will be out next week.

Clearly I don't own either the series, they belong to their respective owners. I have also used a few lines from Veronica Mars, so I disclaim that as well, but I wanted to use some them because I have always found them and still do find them hilarious whenever I hear them.

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xXrebelgirl07Xx