AN: Thank you for waiting, this story is not on the back burner, however the other things piled on the back burner were starting to burn. And what happens is...

When a fire starts to burn, right, and it starts to spread

She gonna bring that attitude home

If you got that reference you are a star, and if you can name the episode name and number you are a superstar. (answer at the bottom)

It might have only been a minute, but to Bellamy it felt like an hour had passed. Sitting crisscross, his left foot was the first one to fall asleep- so he stretched his leg out and flexed as the pins and needles tortured his toes. Until he shifted, he had forgotten about the knob pressing into his back from the bedside table he was leaning against, but now he felt it painfully digging into his shoulder blade. The next body part to go was his arm, the one that was reaching up so his hand could hold onto Clarke's as she slept on his bed. He had never noticed just how rough and calloused his hands were until he was holding Clarke's, which were soft like velvet, and refined- the kind of hands capable of doing the delicate work of an artist, or surgeon.

Once his bicep started spasming from holding his arm up for so long, he slid his foot towards him, bending his leg so his elbow could rest against his knee. So now his stinging, prickling foot was supporting the weight of his ankle, calf, knee, bicep, elbow, forearm, wrist, and hand… and Clarke's hand, but that weight was a lot easier to bare. Then, a few moments later, his neck tightened and tensed, giving up on supporting his head; so he leaned to the left and rested his head on the side of the mattress. He sat, silent and still, and listened to Clarke's gentle inhale and exhale, trying to sync his breath with hers.

He waited… and waited, but the longer he waited, the more he was willing to trust his instincts. It started as a feeling, almost like a sixth sense, that came from somewhere in his chest, and as it grew it sparked through his nervous system, reaching his brain where it turned into a thought- one that he held onto for as long as possible until he was itching to voice it.

"You're not asleep, are you?" he whispered into the dark.

"No," she sighed and groaned loudly.

"Do you want me to go?"

"No," she answered softly.

"Princess, I'll stay but I can't sit on the floor anymore," He stood up and twisted his back and neck, feeling relief as the joints popped. In the dark bedroom, he heard the sheets rustle beside him, and he didn't need to see to know that Clarke had flinched.

"I hate that sound," she grumbled into her pillow.

"Well, if you didn't take so damn long to fall asleep you wouldn't have to hear it," He chided as he walked carefully through the darkness, treading around the bed to the other side. He pulled back the sheets unceremoniously and slid in the bed. He leaned his head back and was confused when it fell further than he had anticipated, hitting the mattress beneath him. Then he remembered he had taken a pillow, and a throw blanket, to use on his makeshift bed for the night – the couch. Before he could think to ask Clarke to grab it off the floor for him, he felt a large, downy mass hit him square in the face.

"No funny business," she mumbled, rolling onto her other side to face Bellamy.

"Hey," he protested gently, "I'm not the one trying to start a war over here." He settled down on his side, facing Clarke, and slid an arm under the pillow to prop his head up. He gazed through the darkness to see Clarke's hair fanned around her on the pillow; he couldn't meet her gaze because her eyes were focused lower, and he realized what it was when she moved her hand, sliding her palm across the satin sheet towards him. He met her halfway; she wrapped her small hand around his thumb, and he covered the back of her hand with his fingers. He heard her sigh as she took a deep breath.

"So… I told you I would explain," she said softly and slowly.

"Mmmhmm," he hummed gently.

"You're not gonna like it," she warned.

"Nope," he agreed with a sigh, "Probably not."

And so she began, "Finn and I were at the bar, and we both had way more drinks than we should've. I remember Finn looking at something over my shoulder… and he said, 'Clarke, I am so sorry.' And I had no clue what he was apologizing for… but shortly after he said that a woman came up to us and I put two and two together."

"Everything that happened after that is a blur. I don't know how I left the bar, but I'm pretty sure I drove there after work; and I didn't know there were cops involved until I felt the handcuffs around my wrists."

She paused and took a deep breath, "So this woman came up to us… she was tall, had dark hair… I think she was wearing a red dress. When he saw her, Finn looked upset and asked her what she was doing here. And she answered, 'Well you'd know if you'd bothered to return any one of my phone calls.' It seemed like she was flirting with him. Then, she turned to me and said, 'Hi, I'm Raven Collins.'"

"Collins?" Bellamy burst out incredulously.

Clarke shot him an irritated look which he interpreted to mean don't interrupt.

"That's what I said," she continued, "and Raven looked me up and down, cocked her head to the side, and said, 'And you must be the woman who's been screwing my husband.'"

"Husband?"

"Bellamy!" she chastised him.

"Sorry, sorry," he conceded, squeezing her hand lightly, "no talking 'til you're done."

She took a breath and the corners of her lips formed a tiny frown, "This is the part where my memory gets really hazy, I don't remember what I was thinking at the moment, but I can remember the feeling – like I had been hit by a truck and had the wind knocked out of me. Suddenly this weight was pressing on my chest and I couldn't get any air to my lungs. It was like a bomb had just gone off and although there was chaos surrounding me, all I could hear was a sharp ringing sound, and the dull thud of my heartbeat. And everything around me just stopped, and all I could see was this woman, Finn's wife, standing in front of me; the rest of the people in the bar were just a blur of color and motion."

"And like this woman was a predator gazing menacingly at its prey, my pulse started racing as my mind scrambled between fight or flight mode. I quickly decided on getting the hell out of there and started wracking my brain for excuses to leave; I said I had to go to the bathroom, so I raced to the back of the bar, burst through the door. I was lightheaded and dizzy, and drunk… probably three drinks past drunk… and I went up to the mirror, but I couldn't see myself. It was like looking into a funhouse mirror – everything was distorted and my eyes couldn't focus on my face."

"And then someone else burst through the door, and of course it had to be…"

"Raven," he answered.

"It had to be Raven," she frowned.

"She was shouting and she was furious. Every other word was a curse, let's see… tramp… filthy whore… worthless slut, those were a few. She insulted me… blamed me… threatened me…"

"She noticed my necklace with the deer charm – the one Finn gave me when we went on vacation. She said, 'Just in case you thought you were special, he got me one too,' she untucked a necklace from her shirt and revealed a sterling silver raven charm, 'Why don't you stay away from Finn and go find someone else's husband to fuck?' And then she stormed out."

"That bitch," Bellamy seethed, mind on fire and muscles tensing.

"Bellamy, I didn't know about her at all," she defended herself in a low, clear voice.

"I know you didn't, Clarke," he assured her, holding her hand tighter, "I wouldn't doubt you for a second."

She smiled weakly and continued, "So then I locked myself in a stall and sat mindlessly on the toilet. I was still but I felt I was swinging. I felt weighted and completely off kilter, like the only balance I had was the toilet and if I leaned to the side just a bit too much I would fall over. And there I was, in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet with my pants still on, the most pathetic girl in the bar. And the longer I sat there, the more the fog in my mind cleared and turned to anger.

"How could he do that?" she looked up at Bellamy, "He lied to me! He made me into the other woman! It would have been better for him to cheat on me, at least then I would be the victim and not the mistress!"

So I went back to the bar, ready to yell some choice words to both of them, but they weren't there. All that remained on the counter was my empty martini glass and discarded toothpick and a half empty pint of beer – the condensation on the glass trickling down to soak the cardboard coaster. And then I did something stupid."

AN: Thanks for following this story I hope you're enjoying it. The only way I know which parts you like and which direction to take is by reading reviews, so please let me know your opinion. I've received some very lovely comments - thank you!

I must credit Grey's Anatomy for a part of this chapter.

(answer)

When a Fire Starts to Burn by Disclosure

s1ep6 "His Sister's Keeper"