Tags: Bellarke. Canon-divergence. S3ish. The AI doesn't exist. The 2nd Apocalypse doesn't exist. Humour - I hope. Bickering. Angst. Sexual Tension. Pining. Idiots in Love. Original Female Character.

A/N: I know I should be writing "Could We Stay Right Here" but I'm kinda stuck on it at the moment. So here's something I concocted donkeys ago, which wasn't going to see the light of day, until I needed a diversion. It's a big plot and will take some time to conclude, but I hope you can come along on the journey with me!

Non beta'd, as per usual.

Chapter One.

Swinging his gun behind him on its strap, Bellamy stepped out of the tower and immersed himself in the clamour and motion of the market.

He often came here to clear his head.

Clarke had once derided him about it – "Only you could find calm in such a chaotic place," she'd said with a playful snort.

He took it as a compliment.

Today, however, he was not trying to find calm, or even gather and sort his thoughts.

Today he was trying to find an answer – a solution to a problem.

Personally, he didn't think it was such a big deal.

He was just doing his job. Why couldn't she accept that?

It was her fault she'd ended up in this predicament – if she had just listened to his advice about the appearance at The Lake District and stopped sneaking out for her solitary bathing sessions at the hot springs – he wouldn't have had to bump up her personal security detail or clamp down on her movements.

"I can't live like this Bellamy!" She had told him earlier. "I feel like a caged animal."

"Should've thought about that before you snuck out on Miller two days ago and nearly got yourself killed."

"So, you'd prefer I took Miller with me while I bathed naked?" She taunted.

"Over getting assassinated? Yes." He sighed, not taking her bait. "That's why we have O and Monroe on the detail, Clarke. So you can do your thing, without feeling uncomfortable. You know that."

"I needed some time alone… to think. It wouldn't have mattered if it was Miller, Monroe or my mother. You know that."

His mind may have thrived in the company of chaos, but Bellamy understood it was essential for Clarke to have periods of quiet solitude to re-energise.

As her personal guard and advisor, he had always tried to allow her the space and freedom to be herself and do things her way. He'd worked damn hard to create a system that suited her needs and ensured her safety at the same time.

So, he was understandably pissed off when she bucked that system, or worse, declared it inefficient.

"Why did you cancel my visit to the Azgeda orphanage?" She had convened with him after the morning meal. Her voice was clipped but controlled.

He knew she'd be upset about that one. He had accompanied her on each of her prior visits and realised how important it was to her. But Clarke was well aware of the turmoil in Azgeda at the moment, and that the orphanage happened to be smack in the middle of insurgent territory.

"It's too dangerous." He said plainly.

"You don't get to decide that Bellamy." He could feel her frustration rising.

"Actually, I do. That's my job."

"Your job is to stop anything bad happening to me, not smother me until I feel like I'm suffocating, or place all these ridiculous curfews and limitations on my life." She was being irrational now.

He knew she didn't like it. Hell… he didn't like it.

He hated unnecessary rules and regulations and he wouldn't be enforcing them on her if there was any other way around it. But they had very limited intel about the current dynamics of the clans and it wasn't like he could… read the enemies mind! There was unrest all around them and threats not even he could see coming. Two assassination attempts in the last week had left him feeling very uncertain and wary for Clarke's safety. His instincts told him something big was brewing.

He'd learnt to trust his instincts a long time ago. He thought Clarke had too.

He shrugged nonchalantly which he knew annoyed her even more. "It's how these things work Clarke."

"Well… it's not working for me!" She stood up and gestured for her next guests to enter the room. "I've called a security meeting with Kane and the others before dinner tonight. You need to come up with something better by then - something that doesn't involve me feeling like a prisoner in my own skin."

That's how he had ended up at the market – searching for a solution to what seemed like an unsolvable problem.

His eyes flitted over the scene before him, surveying the crowd and the stalls, memorising the details and following the movement, noting the hazards and exit points.

Ever since Octavia was born he'd been highly vigilant. There was no denying his hardwiring had hindered his personal life, but it was a trait that had served him well on earth. Not just served him, but kept him and many others alive. It made him oddly grateful for his harsh past and the way it had shaped him.

As his eyes roamed the city street, they stopped suddenly at the sight of a young boy with a pet monkey on his shoulder. He watched diligently as the boy encouraged the monkey to perform for passers-by in exchange for goods.

It was fascinating to see. Bellamy hadn't seen a monkey before and he was pretty sure they weren't native to this area on earth, before the end. But it was possible the animal could have come from descendants of a nearby zoo, he supposed. As fascinated as he was with the animal itself, he was more intrigued with the performance it was putting on. He watched carefully as the monkey interacted with the market-goers, mimicking their every move like a mirror – impersonating their facial expressions and movements.

Watching that monkey gave him the answer he was looking for.

They had been going backwards and forwards for two hours and Clarke was still not happy. Kane was just as cautious, if not more so than Bellamy, and for the most part he agreed with the young man's adjustments to Clarke's schedule.

"You've been quiet," Clarke honed in on her right hand man. "Did you come up with a solution?"

Truth was he had been going over and over the idea in his head ever since he'd returned from the market. The more he thought about it, the more he knew Clarke wouldn't go for it. But it was all he had and he had to throw it out there.

"Maybe," he muttered, non-committal.

The rest of the room came to a quiet hush as they realised he was finally engaging in the discussion.

"Bellamy," Octavia spoke up. "It's been two hours. Whatever you have has to be better than the brick wall we've been banging our heads against repeatedly."

"Alright," he shrugged and stood up from his stool, scanning the elite security team, until finally resting his eyes on Clarke. "I propose we employ a political decoy to take Clarke's place for high-risk public appearances, or, at times when she might be needed in more than one place."

The small group turned to one another with confused expressions on their faces.

"A political decoy?" Clarke rose slowly from her throne. "You mean a body double?"

Bellamy cleared his throat.

"More than just a body double. Someone who can be you - talk like you, act like you - essentially impersonate you."

A wave of interest and excitement rolled over the others as they began to realise what Bellamy's idea entailed.

Ignoring them, Clarke shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could begin, Bellamy cut her off.

"You want privacy – freedom," he uttered, stepping closer to her in the hope that only she could hear him. He needed her undivided attention before she ruled his plan out. "This is your chance, Clarke. If you want to have your bath, or visit your mother in Arkadia, or even spend time drawing - the stand-in can take your place wherever you're expected to be. Besides, you're always complaining that there's never enough time to do everything you want to do - think about how much more you can achieve with two of you."

"No," she said without a second thought, loud enough for everyone to hear, and the room erupted into protest.

"You know I can't agree to this," she murmured to Bellamy as he stood stock still in his spot, glaring at her with furrowed brows.

They were only inches away from each other and he could see the apology in her eyes, but it didn't dampen his displeasure in her decision.

Why did she have to be so stubborn?

"Perhaps we should adjourn for dinner," Kane's voice cut into the silence that fell between them. "Mull it over some more after a hearty meal."

"Let's do that," Bellamy mumbled under his breath, turning on his heels and exiting the room.

He knew there would be no mulling.

The Commander had made up her mind.

Outside in the corridor, Octavia cornered Clarke.

"Are you kidding me right now?" she questioned vehemently, grabbing her friend's arm.

"Not now Octavia," Clarke wanted to catch Bellamy before he entered the dining hall. She hated when he left things like that.

"This is the best idea anybody's had in two hours and you're going to reject it with no good reason? Seriously Clarke, I have better things to do with my time than come to these meetings only to have you kick every suggestion over the frickin' balcony."

Clarke sighed. She detested having to explain herself all the time. "I won't put somebody else's life at risk for the sake of my own. Is that a good enough reason for you?"

"You're responsible for thousands of lives," Octavia retorted. "What's one more?"

She was right, of course, but this was different. A decoy would literally be surrendering their life and everything they knew, for her. It wasn't the same as soldiers fighting in battle, or even civilians taking up arms. It felt… selfish.

"Fine!" Octavia snapped. "If you won't do it for yourself or the clans – then do it for my brother."

Clarke looked at her quizzically.

"Don't pretend like you don't know he hasn't had a day off since you took this job," Octavia folded her arms in front of her.

"None of us have," Clarke said retrospectively.

She had never intended for Bellamy to become so embroiled in her position as Commander. It wasn't something they had planned. After Lexa died and her spirit chose Clarke, it seemed only natural that Bellamy be in Polis beside her. They had been a team since their first days on the ground. Nothing, not even her position, could come between them. They never talked about it, it just happened.

Now here they were.

"Look," Octavia softened, trying to change tack. "I get that you two have this joined-at-the-hip, co-worker thing goin' on or whatever, but the amount of time he's spending with you lately is… unhealthy… to say the least."

"What are you talking about Octavia?" Clarke was getting tired of the conversation. She was hungry and annoyed that she was being held up. "You guys are on a roster. I spend just as much time with Miller as I do Bellamy."

"Are you sure about that?" Octavia continued. "'Cause I know Bell creates that roster, and he has twice as many shifts as the rest of us. And… even when he's not rostered on he's always 'checking up on us'."

"So?" Clarke shrugged. "He's a workaholic. You know he takes his responsibilities seriously."

Octavia raised an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips for emphasis.

"Yeah, but this is creepy serious."

Clarke almost laughed at the solemnity in her friend's voice. Everything was so damn grave with the Blake siblings. At least Bellamy could crack a joke every now and again.

"What exactly do you mean by creepy?" she asked.

"I wasn't going to say anything," Octavia started, "but since you're hell bent on refusing to accept this idea…"

"Say anything about what?" Clarke was losing patience, fast.

"Bellamy has been spending so much time with you… he knows things about you that not even your mother would know."

"Like what?"

"Like… the exact day your cycle is due," Octavia offered.

"Really?" She was curious as to how he knew this, half the time she forgot herself.

"And when it's done," Octavia added.

"So?" Clarke was not convinced this was significant, although she did wonder exactly how it had come up in conversation. "He's observant. Anyone can pick up on someone's mood swings."

"That's not all," Octavia was looking at the ground now. It was unlike her to feel uncomfortable.

"What is it?"

"A couple of nights ago I was on sentry outside your door and he came to 'check up on things'. There was a scream from inside your room. I was about to barge in there when Bellamy stopped me."

"He stopped you?" Clarke's brow furrowed. "Why?"

Octavia rolled her eyes, and shifted on her feet. Clarke sensed that she didn't really want to explain this part, for whatever reason.

"He assured me it wasn't that kind of a scream."

"Oh?" Clarke thought for a second, considering what that meant, then, as recognition of a couple nights ago entered her head, her cheeks turned red. "Oh!" she said again, eyes enlarging. "Wait… h-how did he know?"

"Like I said," Octavia shrugged, "creepy serious."

"Oh my god," Clarke covered her face with her hands.

"So," Octavia smirked, "does this mean you'll reconsider?"

A/N: Thanks so much for reading. I'm feeling really out of the loop at the moment with this fandom, as only up to Ep 6 of S4 here in Australia, so I would really appreciate your comments (sans spoilers), even if you just wanna say hello!

xoxo