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bellarke · 6 years

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vires acquirit eundo a post season 4 reunion fic

Bellarke Christmas Calender 2017

December 12th:

by Kat [tracylorde] [ao3]

Word count: 6135

Rating: G

Prompt: post season 4

Thank you so much to Kat ♥ for participating in our bellarke christmas. Please go and check out her other great work.

“You know, it really is just as beautiful as I remember.” Monty said, startling Bellamy from his reverie.

“It is,” Bellamy replied gruffly, his jaw tightening unconsciously as he fiddled with his rifle.

The two of them were positioned at the edge of the camp, standing guard while the others made preparations to move. They looked out over the green expanse before them. Much of the earth was desolate, which they had been able to see from space, but there had been a few disparate green patches, one on in the eastern edge of what was left of the the North American continent. Raven had aimed for that green patch, and they would have landed there if they hadn’t run into trouble on the descent. The choice was between landing safely miles away, and landing in their destination in a fiery crash . As it was, it had taken them a long week’s journey to make their way there. Murphy had joked the whole way that at least they weren’t heading for the City of Light, but the trek hadn’t been easy. The reserve of food they’d brought with them was quite small, so rations were tiny. Water was nowhere to be found.

Once they’d finally made it, it was truly as if they had found Eden. They weren’t exactly sure how many miles the expanse covered, though Monty had made approximations. Amazingly, there was edible vegetation in spades, and Murphy had entertained himself by cooking non-algae dishes for the first time in six years. They were in search of any landmark that could lead them to the bunker, but the landscape had changed so much after the damage Praimfaya had wrought that they collectively tried to keep their expectations in check. They were arriving a year later, after all, due to difficulties with the fuel supply, and it was probable that the bunker had opened and everyone had dispersed. There was no reason for them to be anywhere but this verdant place. Bellamy hoped that they would come across familiar faces soon, but he knew the odds of all their friends surviving were low.

He couldn’t help thinking of Clarke, of course. Over the six years they’d been in space, the pain of her loss had dulled over time. Back here, back on earth among the green and the warmth, the memories came flooding back. The cold grey of the ring had not reminded him of her as much, but earth was where he met her. Earth was where he fell in love with her. Earth was where he’d left her to die.

He knew Monty had a similar experience when they’d first landed. Feeling the ground beneath their feet again, the losses they’d experienced on this harsh planet overwhelmed them both. He’d gotten distance from his grief over Jasper, though never forgetting him, but being here again brought all those feelings back. Monty understood. Neither of them had slept much since being back. The thoughts they could push aside during their fight for survival during the day crept back in the night.

Their first year in space had been a hectic scramble too, one new system threatened as soon as they’d set right another. There hadn’t been much time to grieve at first. The second year, when a routine had formed, Bellamy had felt grief creeping back into his thoughts, in the form of Clarke’s ghost. He’d been surprised to find that Raven had a similar experience, though she pushed through it. Monty, Harper and Murphy missed Clarke too, but not in the way he and Raven did. He’d only allowed himself to break in front of her once, but she’d been vulnerable in return, and that had been the worst of it. Things had been easier after that second year.

Back on the ground, he’d had trouble reading her. He only knew that she was as determined as he to continue surviving, and find those they’d left behind if possible.

“You two ready to move out?” Raven asked, walking towards them with her usual determined expression. She walked a little easier than she had six years ago. The time in artificial gravity had helped relieve the pain in her injured leg, and even back on earth again she was more agile. Bellamy smiled slightly to see her moving with relative ease.

Raven caught his eye, and he nodded. Bellamy and Monty followed her back into the heart of camp, which at this point consisted of only makeshift packs that Harper was now distributing. Everything they possessed in the universe was strapped to their backs as they pressed forward. They made their way in three groups: Murphy and Harper scouting ahead, Monty, Raven and Echo next, and Bellamy and Emori bringing up the rear.

Bellamy trailed Emori slightly, both of them keeping an eye out for any possible threats. They knew this land was barren but it was a harsh adjustment to be back on Earth, when most of them had only known it for a year. They couldn’t be too careful. The supply of weapons on the ring had been sparce, but what they had was equally divided between the lot of them. Murphy had one walkie talkie, and Raven the other. Bellamy followed closely enough to keep an eye on the middle group.

Echo had taught them all hand to hand combat in space, though some of them took to it more than others. Raven in particular had learned to wield a blade (or, in actuality, a metal pipe) quite impressively, and she spent hours training to perfect her form. It was cathartic for her to be so physical again. Even here, with the weight of gravity pulling on her injury again, she did well. She and Echo continued to practice while they were camped, Raven often challenging Bellamy to a duel like she had on the ark, becoming still more competitive with each win. She was quicker than him, and more graceful. Bellamy never would have guessed Echo would be the one to help Raven the most, but life was unpredictable sometimes. Their year on the ground alone had proved that.

He glanced over at Emori as they made their way up a particularly treacherous bit of terrain. She had her eyes fixed ahead for the most part, though they darted back and forth every few moments. She was on guard, her hand resting gently on a dagger in her belt. Earth had never been an especially kind place to her, and she clearly hadn’t forgotten that over the intervening years.

They had been walking for a few hours at this point. Bellamy could see Raven’s group ahead of them, though the scouts were lost to view at that point and must have been making their way through the forest. It was still early in the day, and they had to make at least twelve more miles before stopping for the night. Murphy and Harper had been instructed to find running water, and Bellamy hoped they would be able to. Their supplies were running low, and he wasn’t kidding himself to think they would make it another three days without a fresh supply. His lips were dry and cracked from their week in the desert. He tried not to moisten them with his tongue. He tried even harder not to think about the last time he’d had a shower. Life on the ring hadn’t been easy with the recycling water and meager food supply, but they had gotten pretty used to their routine over the six years.

Emori almost tripped over a sharp rock, emitting a low cry, and Bellamy reached out an arm reflexively to steady her.

“Thanks,” Emori murmured, catching his eye for a moment, then looking up she frowned. “I think Raven needs you.”

Bellamy glanced toward her eyeline and saw Raven waving at him with an odd look on her face. It wasn’t concern, it was more like…happiness? He nodded to Emori and walked ahead of her, glancing past Raven to see what possibly could have caught her attention.

“You need to see this,” Raven called, as soon as he was within earshot.

“See what?” Bellamy’s voice sounded harsh to his own ears. His throat was so dry. “Did they find water?”

Raven nodded, “Yes, but that’s not all.”

Bellamy’s heart leapt. “Did they find some trace of the others?”

“Not exactly.” The excitement in Raven’s voice was palpable. “They found a hut, Bellamy. No one was there at the time, but it looked like at least two people have been living there.”

Bellamy felt his head grow light. “What do you mean two people?” His mind was racing with possible explanations. He tried not to think of it, but what if Octavia had split off from the others, with just a companion, and made a life for herself there? She hadn’t been ready for the weight thrust on her shoulders when last they spoke, but surely she had survived—maybe it was her.

“Murphy said there was a grounder symbol somewhere in the house…shadow valley, he thinks,” Raven continued in a low voice and Bellamy’s hopes fell slightly. It was still possible that he would find a trace of his sister today, but it wasn’t looking likely.

“Whatever it is, it’s good,” Raven reassured him. “Even if they’re hostile, it looks like a small group, and it means life is sustainable here again. There weren’t any weapons there, either,” Raven continued practically, “But that just means if they have any they’ve got them with them.”

Bellamy nodded, still processing. He hadn’t expected to find such a small settlement. He had thought the clans would probably break off after exiting the bunker, no delusions of long lasting unity there. But just two people? His heart beat faster with the thought of it, though he didn’t know why. He adjusted his weapon and glanced at Raven. “Let’s go, you and me. The others should hold back and keep the walkie. We’ll meet up with Harper and Murphy and let them know.”

Raven nodded, and the two of them set off into the woods.

It was almost an hour before they reached the scouts. Just through a gap in the trees Bellamy saw the hut they’d mentioned, with a thatched roof, wood walls, and what looked like a garden in back. It was set just to the side of a small clearing.

Bellamy’s heart pounded in his chest. For six years, they’d been in each other’s company only. Now, they would be dealing with an outsider.

Harper was waiting by the front door, keeping watch. “Murphy’s inside poking around. It’s pretty sparce, but we agreed not to take anything. No need to make enemies until we know who we’re dealing with here. I haven’t heard from him in a minute though, you might want to make sure he’s not getting us in trouble.”

Bellamy nodded, his mouth going dry, and he and Raven made their way over the threshold. Inside, there was a small bed, low to the ground, a few assorted pans and crude utensils, and a chair in which Murphy sat, holding a rustic leather-bound volume with an odd expression on his face.

Bellamy couldn’t believe it. A book, an actual physical book. There were only a handful of those on the ring, mostly old manuals and ledgers. Everything had been digitized to conserve space years ago, and the historical artifacts that had been saved were lost when the the majority of the stations plummeted to the ground. Bellamy had wished sometimes for the copy of the Iliad Gina had found for him, but that had perished in Praimfaya along with most everything else he’d loved about this planet.

“Did you find anything useful, Murphy?” Raven asked, lifting the worn coverlet off the bed in search of clues.

Murphy stood up and met Bellamy’s eye. “I think you need to see this.”

Bellamy stepped forward and took the volume from Murphy’s hand. The weight was a little heavier than he’d expected. The cover was rough to the touch. The page open revealed a sketch of a the shelter they were in. He turned the page. He saw a group of trees he was sure they had walked past on their way. Something tightened in him. He turned the page again.

On the left facing page, a young girl with dark hair and bright eyes….he thought she looked a bit like Octavia had, years ago, when she was still the girl under the floor. Something about these sketches was so familiar to him. His heart dropped at he turned his attention to the right facing page.

A man with curly hair, freckles, and a strong jaw looked back at him. Bellamy was staring into the eyes of his younger self, clean shaven, youthful and full of hope. He couldn’t believe it. His hands shook. He looked up to see Murphy looking back at him, biting his lip.

“I don’t understand,” Bellamy said hoarsely. Raven was suddenly at his side, her fingers delicately touching the page open to his portrait.

“Holy shit,” Raven whispered. “Holy shit…” Her eyes were locked on Murphy. “You think it’s hers?”

“It can’t be.” Murphy shook his head. “How would it be here? Unless someone in the bunker had it…maybe Abby.”

Bellamy’s heart grew heavy at the thought of being confronted by Abby Griffin after all this time. If she knew he was alive, she would expect Clarke to be with him. He tried to shake the idea.

“It doesn’t seem like Abby to split off from so many of the others,” Raven replied, though Bellamy could tell she wished it wasn’t true.

“Raven’s right,” Bellamy said, finding his voice again. “We can’t bank on knowing who lives here based on this. It’s a strange coincidence, but we need to be on guard here.”

“Coincidence?” Murphy spat, gazing in disbelief between the two of them. “Coincidence? Are you both crazy? That’s you Bellamy. Without a doubt. This is Jasper, Lincoln,” he began to flip pages frantically, “here’s you, Raven. Here’s Abby herself. Here’s Wells, remember him? I barely do, but you know who would?”

Bellamy’s jaw tightened. “What are you saying, Murphy?”

Raven crossed her arms, glancing between the two of them. Harper looked back from her position at the door, clearly worried a fight was about to erupt.

“I don’t know,” Murphy admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But this is no coincidence. If I didn’t know better…if I didn’t know better, I’d say Clarke was alive.”

“She’s dead, Murphy,” Bellamy said, and he almost pitied him. It wasn’t like Murphy to be this delusional. This hope was insanity. They should have all buried their dead after six years in space. Murphy had Emori, anyway. His losses in their year on the ground had been minimal. Not like Bellamy’s, or Monty’s, or Raven’s. There was no call for this nonsense.

Murphy shook his head and took a seat, still holding the journal in his hands. “Fine. You’re right. But we’re keeping this with us, until we figure out what’s going on here.”

Bellamy met Raven’s eye, and she nodded. “Fine. Let’s get a plan together.”

“Fine,” said Murphy hoarsely, looking defeated.

Bellamy watched concern flit across Raven’s face, and she offered her canteen to their companion.

“You need to drink this….you clearly haven’t taken advantage of the fresh water yet. We can fill up when we’re heading out. The others are meeting us not too far from here, and we’re going to try and track the occupants.”

Murphy accepted it and took a long draught to soothe his throat, then rubbed his eyes with a shaking hand after Raven took the canteen back.

“You alright?” Bellamy asked, the strangeness of his manner not lost on him.

“I’m alright,” Murphy replied, then he stood up and pressed the book into Bellamy’s hand. “Carry this, huh? You’ve got more pockets than I do.”

Bellamy took a sighed, squared his shoulders, and nodded. Stuffing the journal in his pocket, he moved out behind Murphy, Raven trailing them both.

They decided to create a perimeter several dozen yards around the hut, in order to see the occupants returning as soon as possible. Raven took one walkie and gave the other to Bellamy. He and Murphy stayed near the hut, waiting on one side of the clearing. Raven or one of the others would signal when they saw anyone approach.

It was while Bellamy was exploring the ground near the garden that he came across the trap. It was a roughly made, hidden under a pile of leaves, and if he hadn’t been so distracted by Murphy’s madness he would have seen it before it snapped down on his foot. He bit on his lip hard to prevent calling out, cursing his own carelessness under his breath. It was clearly designed to catch small animals, but it had hit him right on the ankle.

Murphy was at his side in a moment and helped him extricate himself. “Careful, you’re going to make it worse—hold still, Bellamy.”

“I’m fucking trying.” Bellamy placed a hand on Murphy’s back as he knelt to undo the trap, trying to keep from moving too much. “At least we know there are edible animals roaming around now.”

Murphy grinned up at him after freeing his ankle. “Either that, or just other morons who aren’t looking where they’re going.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes. Then, suddenly, he heard a familiar sound that sent a shiver running down his spine. There was a snap, then a metallic scraping noise—a gun was being cocked. It wasn’t one of their own…someone must have crept past the perimeter.

He whirled on his feet, ignoring the spasm of pain in his leg, and signaled to Murphy to take cover. All his earth instincts came flooding back as the two of them headed for a nearby boulder, his arm draped over Murphy’s shoulder to stay upright.

He scanned the area, trying to find the source of the noise. It took him a moment, but he finally did it: he could barely make the figure out, they were crouched behind a log opposite them, but he could see the top of their head peeking out. They were wearing a hat, and he couldn’t really make much else out.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Murphy rose slowly to his feet, hands raised above his head in surrender.

“Murphy, what are you doing?” Bellamy hissed, looking up at him incredulously.

Murphy didn’t answer, just moved slowly across the clearing towards their mysterious threat. He was less than six feet from her when she rose to her feet.

Bellamy could immediately tell that she was the girl from the sketchbook: her face was dirtier than it had been in the picture, and she looked a bit older and thinner, though she couldn’t be much older than twelve, but it was definitely her. He rose to his feet as well, cautiously, hands raised high like Murphy’s.

“Who are you?” Bellamy asked incredulously.

The girl narrowed her eyes at him, and kept the rifle trained on Murphy. “You’re not them.”  “Not who?” Bellamy asked.

“The men in the ship. They landed three days ago, a few hours’ drive from here.”

“A ship landed?” Bellamy asked.

“You drive?” Murphy interjected.

“Yes, but they weren’t dressed like you,” the girl answered Bellamy, gestured to his worn blue shirt and dark pants, “They wore red and grey. Uniforms. My nomon says they are dangerous and we’re to keep clear of them.”

“Your mother?” Bellamy mind worked hard, trying to piece together the mystery.

“Yes, she will be here soon, so it’s best if you don’t move.”

“Please,” Bellamy begged, “I have to ask you something.” He reached into his pocket slowly, and gingerly pulled out the journal.

The girl’s eyes widened, and her grip on the weapon tightened. “You were in our home!” she accused.

“We were, I’m sorry.”

Murphy intervened. “We came down on another ship, about a week ago, but we landed in the desert and only just found our way here. We needed water and supplies and we came across your house…I need you to tell me, who drew these?” he gestured to the book Bellamy held.

The girl frowned up at them.

“Please,” Bellamy begged, gesturing to the page with the portrait of him. “That’s me. Or at least, it used to be.”

The girl looked truly stunned. Lowering her weapon, her eyes flashed between the book and his face. ”She didn’t say you’d have a beard.”

Bellamy swallowed hard. He could feel tears pricking at his eyes, though had didn’t know why. “Who—who didn’t say…”

A noise from the woods interrupted them, and they all turned to see Raven and Emori emerging from the treeline, a third figure between them. The third figure was a woman, same height as the other two women, short white-blond hair framing her face like a halo. Bellamy squinted…his eyes were playing tricks on him, the light filtering through the leaves cast an odd shadow on the three figures as they approached.

Raven was holding the third woman’s hand. They were all…smiling. And then he saw her.

It was Clarke. Her body and face leaner and tanner than he remembered, but his eyes locked on hers, and then the world was spinning and the darkness came. He lost consciousness before he’d hit the ground.

The first thing he saw when he came to was her face, hovering above him. He blinked, shook his head, sure he was dreaming. The sharp pain in his leg and a dull throbbing in his head indicated otherwise. He heard chatter around him but he paid no mind to anything but her. This wasn’t happening, he told himself. He felt sick. This wasn’t real, this couldn’t be real. He curled one hand into the ground, digging his fingernails through the grass and dirt. That felt real, but she couldn’t be.

She was worried, wearing that creased brow he had known so well. A cool hand touched his forehead—her hand—before coming to rest on the side of his face. His breath caught in his throat.

“Clarke,” he breathed. “Clarke…I thought you were dead. You were dead.”

“I’m right here, Bellamy.” Her voice was lower than she remembered, but there was a joyful tremor to it. “I’ve been right here for a while. Where have you been?”

“The landing…I mean, the fuel supply…Raven-“

“Raven told me,” Clarke replied gently. “I’m just teasing you. It’s been a while.” There were tears in her eyes, but her smile was so bright he could barely focus on anything else.

He tried to sit up, but Clarke pressed a hand to his chest. “You hit your head when you fell, take it easy.”

“I’ll be fine.” He wrapped his hand round hers and pulled himself into a seated position. She was kneeling next to him, her face close to his own. It was a possibility he hadn’t even entertained in his dreams the past few years. It couldn’t be real. The pressure of her fingers on his was something out of a fantasy.

She leaned forward and wrapped an arm around him. He did the same, pinning their intertwined hands in the middle of their embrace. He could feel the tears filling his eyes, and knew from her ragged breathing she was crying too. He nuzzled into the curve of her neck. Memories washed over him, brought back from the depths of his thoughts by the softness of her hair against his face.

After a time, he felt his arm growing numb. She pulled back, still grasping his hand tightly and wiping the tears from his face with her free hand. It was the first time he’d cried in years, and the first time ever he’d cried from pure joy.

He had so many questions, but first, “How?”

“The nightblood worked,” she answered, though he could tell she was checking his eyes for signs of concussion. “I made it back to the lab, and waited out the storm there.”

He couldn’t stop staring, his eyes never leaving her face. “You waited it out? The end of the world?”

She smiled. “Somehow, yeah.”

“And the girl?” He remembered what the girl had said. “Your daughter?”

“I left the island after a year, when my rations ran out. I had hope for a better spot, and I made it here. I found Madi on my way.”

“Madi,” he repeated, glancing up to see her sitting nearby with Raven, talking in hushed tones. “She’s a nightblood too?”

Clarke nodded. “She’s the only survivor I’ve found. I’ll fill you all in on that later, for now…” her face darkened, and she tightened her grip on his hand.”

His mind was stuck on that. “Only survivor? So the bunker—“ Octavia.

Clarke shook her head. “Nothing. I’ve been trying to contact them for years. It’s buried too deep, under a pile of rubble, and I couldn’t dig them out.”

“You have a radio?”

“Yes, I found one in the lab.” She blushed, a strange expression on her face.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you all about it later. You feeling well enough to stand?”

Bellamy didn’t answer, just glanced down at his leg.

Clarke followed his eyes. “You’re hurt.” Worry crept back over her face.

“Your traps are very efficient,” Bellamy replied, the corner of his mouth twisting into a smile despite the pain.

“Let me take a look.” Clarke pressed his hand before releasing it. She rolled the leg of his pant up, pulled a canteen from her belt, and began to clean and inspect his wound.

He couldn’t feel the pain any longer, he just focused on the way her hair fell over her face as she began to wrap his ankle. It was her, it was really Clarke. He still couldn’t believe it.

“That’ll do for now.” She glanced up at him, and her smile widened as she met his eyes. She was real. In his dreams, she’d never looked so happy.

“I’m sorry we’re late,” he whispered hoarsely.

She shrugged. “I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you.”

He laughed, and she did too. She had finished wrapping his injury, and her hands found their way back to his.

“You’ll be alright.”

“Clarke, I—“ he paused, realizing that he couldn’t put words to what was in his heart. The tears pricked at his eyes again. “I’m so sorry. If I had known—“

“If you had known what?” she chided gently. “You did the right thing, Bellamy. You survived. You all survived.”

“I left you.”

“I told you to,” she reminded him, and in her eyes he saw no malice, no anger, only happiness. “You came back. That’s more than I could have hoped.”

“I thought we weren’t going to make it, on the way back,” he confessed, remembering the terror that had gripped him as they hurtled towards earth for the second time. “The landing was a miracle, Raven pulled through somehow.” He remembered what Madi had said earlier, suddenly, and his mind began to race again. “There’s another ship…who are they? Are you in danger here, Clarke? Have you seen them? Do they know you’re here?”

“So many questions,” she teased, but he could see the worry hadn’t left her face.

“You’ve got to answer them sometime. We’ve put you at risk here, Clarke. They might have seen us.”

“That’s the thing,” Clarke replied. “They’re heading to the site of the bunker, I’m sure of it. They’ve got mining equipment, too. Bellamy…they want to get in.”

“What do you mean? Who are they?”

“A prisoner crew, from all I can tell. But that’s all I know. I don’t know who they are, where they came from, or how much they know. But we’ve kept our distance,” she glanced over to Madi as she spoke, “we didn’t want them knowing we’re here.”

“I can’t believe no one ever made it out of the bunker.”

Clarke winced at the look on his face. “I’m sorry. I tried, I really did, but it was too much work to dig with just me, Madi, and the rover. I only hope that the work will provide enough distraction for the other ship until we can determine who they are and what they want.”

“You think they might come looking for us,” he realized, his grip on her hand tightening.

The threat on the horizon was clear. They needed to develop a plan. Bellamy could see the others spread out across the clearing. The adults were all deep in conversation at this point, Madi hanging back slightly, cleaning her rifle. Bellamy shook his head.

“Bellamy?”

“I need to stand up. We’ve got to talk about this.” He pushed himself up off the ground, keeping the weight off his injured leg and brushing the dirt from his clothing. Clarke dropped his hand to help steady him, and walked with him to meet the others.

“You alright, Blake?” Harper asked, half concerned, half amused.

“Fine,” Bellamy replied gruffly. Everyone else had clearly already had their reunions with Clarke. They were all standing about, watching him as if he were some kind of spectacle.

“I told you so,” Murphy muttered under his breath.

Bellamy tightened the arm around Clarke’s shoulder. “Shut up, Murphy.”

Clarke had waved Madi over, and the girl slowly approached Bellamy.

“I don’t think you two have been properly introduced. Bellamy, this is Madi.”

Madi stepped forward and looked up at him with even more curiosity than before.

“You fainted,” she said.

Laughter overcame him, and the others joined in.

“He taught me the word,” Madi filled in, pointing to Murphy, who had tears in his eyes he was laughing so hard.

Raven came to his defense, though she was grinning too. “He hasn’t been sleeping or drinking his ration of water in days, and I’m sure this injury didn’t help.”

“Yeah, seeing Clarke had nothing to do with it,” muttered Monty.

“Well, you won’t have to worry about water rations any more,” Clarke interjected. “But we do have other things to worry about.” She glanced at Raven. “I told Bellamy about our problem. We need to all determine a plan now.”

“How long do you think we have?” Raven asked.

“Probably about a day,” Clarke replied. “I don’t know if they will send just a few scouts, or a larger group. Depends how badly they want to get access to the bunker, I guess.”

Bellamy’s thoughts veered back to the possible struggles facing Octavia, Kane, and the others, but he quickly refocused on the known danger.

“Murphy, Monty,” he said, “Why don’t you prepare a meal with what we have? We’re going to need to eat before we decide on any action.”

“I can help,” Madi offered, looking to Clarke for permission. Clarke nodded, and Madi led the two men towards the fire pit.

“Alright,” Bellamy continued. “Harper and Emori, fill every container you can find with water while there’s still light.” He glanced back to Clarke. “You said something about the rover?”

Clarke nodded. “Raven knows where it is.”

“Raven, Echo, can you bring that round please? I want to set up a base here if we can.”

Raven glanced from Bellamy to Clarke and back. “We will, but you need to rest, Bellamy. You’re no good to us like this, limping around and sleep deprived. We’ll meet in a few hours, after we make camp. Try to sleep until then.”

Bellamy’s jaw tightened, but he nodded and waved Raven on her way.

Everyone had dispersed, except Clarke. “Raven’s right. You should rest, Bellamy.”

“Octavia—“

Clarke sighed, knowing he wouldn’t rest until the two of them had talked at length. “There’s a chance she’s still alive, Bellamy. There’s a chance they all are. Hell, if you and I both survived, why not them?”

Bellamy frowned. “But they clearly can’t break out.”

“And we can’t dig them out.”

“Not without help.”

She frowned. “You want to ally with this group?”

“It might be our only shot at getting them out, Clarke.”

“We don’t know who they are, or how they know about the bunker.”

“I don’t want to do anything risky, but if we can find out more about them we may be able to use their assets to our advantage.” He felt his strength fading, and leaned more heavily on Clarke.

She shook her head. “You’re exhausted, Bellamy. Come with me, you need to rest. Raven and the others can set up the camp without you.”

Bellamy nodded, too tired to fight. There wasn’t much more than an hour of daylight left, anyway.

“Come inside. I want to dress that wound properly.” Clarke helped him through the door of the hut and eased him onto the bed.

He lay back and felt his body relax into the makeshift mattress. Clarke lit a fire and began boiling water in a small pot. She pulled a box from under the bed and he saw that she’d assembled quite a nice stash of herbs and plants that he assumed had various healing purposes. It was impressive, that she not only had survived the apocalypse, but that she’d done it so well. The small shelter, with Clarke in it, felt like as warm and secure as any place he’d ever called home.

He propped himself up slightly, unable to take his eyes off her for a moment, and realized that her journal was still in his pocket. “I believe this is yours,” he said, holding it up for her to see.

Clarke’s face registered surprise when she recognized it.

“Murphy was snooping,” he explained, placing the book on the bed next to him. “You know, I think he knew you were alive when he found it. Or he hoped you were, somehow, anyway.”

Clarke chuckled. “He was right. Maybe he’s never truly been the self serving cynic he appears.”

“Maybe not. He almost got us into trouble though. Madi was quite perturbed to discover we’d been inside. I count us both lucky not to have been shot on sight.”

“She’s a smart girl,” Clarke laughed. “She must have had you in line.”

“She did,” Bellamy agreed. “She’s amazing, Clarke.”

Clarke smiled over at him from the fire. “She is. I’m so lucky to have her. I don’t know what I’d have done for all those years by myself. Lost my mind, probably. But between her, and the radio, I stayed sane.”

Bellamy frowned. “The radio?”

Clarke paused for a moment, bent over her box of herbs. “I radioed you every day. I tried to call the ring, I mean. I know now that you never heard any of them, but talking to you every day kept me going.”

Bellamy shook his head. “The calls never came through. We had problems with our comm system…we tried to call the bunker, too, but no luck. I wish I had known. I’m so sorry, Clarke.”

“If you keep apologizing like that, I’m going to have to send you back.” Clarke was teasing, but there was an edge to her voice.

Bellamy stayed silent while she prepared a salve and dressed his wound.

“I’ll let you get some rest,” she said as she finished, preparing to stand up.

He reached for her and captured her hands with his own. “Don’t go.”

She bit her lip, sizing him up as she considered.

“Please don’t go,” he begged. “I promise I’ll get some rest, but if you aren’t here with me, I’ll just be worrying about you the entire time.”

A sad smile crossed her face, and she reached out to ruffle his hair. “I’ll only stay if you promise to sleep.”

“I promise,” he replied, and she lay down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

His mind was still racing, but having her next to him reminded him that she was real, that she was there, that she was alive. He wouldn’t have continued to believe it otherwise, but the smell of her hair and the feel of her breath rising and falling grounded him.

“I can’t believe we might be going to war again,” he murmured.

“I know,” she answered, and burrowed her head in his chest.

He could feel himself drifting off to sleep, thoughts of doing battle with the mysterious strangers competing with his heavy eyelids. He pressed a kiss to Clarke’s forehead. Her breathing matched hers. For this instant, in this moment, they were at peace. Whatever happened, whatever enemies lay in wait on this strange reborn planet, he had no doubt that together they could meet them head on.

#tracylorde #bellarke fanfiction #bellarke fic #the 100 fanfiction #bellarke #the 100 #bellamy and clarke #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #bellarkechristmas2017 #bellarke christmas calendar #by kat

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bellarke · 6 years

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Bellarke Christmas Calender 2017

December 17th:

by Jade [wellsjahasghost] [ao3]

Word count: 1042

Prompt: esablished relationship future-fic

Thank you so much to Jade ♥ for participating in our bellarke christmas. Please go and check out her other great work.

A/N: This is an old drabble I wrote about a year ago, and for this year’s bellarke xmas calendar, i’ve decided to release it to the Wilds. It’s an established-relationship future-fic kind of deal. Please keep in mind that it was written before season 4, so characters are written as such. I hope you enjoy it and happy holidays!

—

“Clarke.”

“Not now,” Clarke says snappishly, looking down at the maps of Azgeda spread on the table in front of her.

“Clarke.” Monty’s voice sounds excited, and seeing as he isn’t showing signs of leaving, Clarke sighs and whips her head around. Monty is peeking from behind the flap of her tent, snow in his hair, with a near manic grin on his face.

“Monty,” Clarke says tersely, “I don’t have time to try your new batch of moonshine. We’re at war—”

Monty cuts her off, opening the flap further and revealing Raven and Abby standing behind him. They all have equally giddy expressions on their faces. “It’s Bellamy.”

Plans for war suddenly vanish from her mind.

“... What about him?” she says, voice faint. She places her hands firmly on the table so that no one will see them shaking.

He’s dead. They told her that two days ago that the mission had gone awry. She’d swallowed, robotically taken that information in, and while everyone watched her warily, as if she were a scared animal about to strike, she’d left as calmly as she could. She hadn’t given herself time to think about it, because then she would have to think about it.

She still really hasn’t had time to think about it, and she’s glad.

“They found his body?” she asks brusquely, getting down to business because that’s what she does. There’s still a tremor to her voice as she glances back at the maps.

Abby speaks up, then. “No, Clarke. He’s alive.”

Clarke blinks.

“Come on, he’s in medical,” Monty says, beckoning her forward. Clarke still doesn’t move. She feels frozen in place.

“He’s alive?” she finally asks, in a tiny voice.

Her eyes move from her mother to Raven; Raven wouldn’t lie to her. Raven would give it to her exactly how it is.

But Raven is beaming too, completely radiant. “Yeah, I knew it would take a lot more to kill him.” She tilts her head. “Come on, don’t you want to go see him?”

They all look at her like they’re waiting for her to smile, but Clarke bursts into tears instead.

Right there, in her tent. It comes out of nowhere, and her hands fly to her face, but she can’t stop. She can’t even be comforted, even while they’re murmuring around her, “She does know we said alive, right? Not dead?”

And even by the time she’s been escorted to medical, she’s still got tears streaming down her face, and when she sees him leaning against the wall on the side of the room, waiting to be checked out, a fresh wave of them come on.

She’s dimly aware people are staring at her in this room. They’ve never seen Clarke Griffin break down like this. She doesn’t do this in public, she just doesn’t. But somehow she can’t stop right now, even when Bellamy hears her, and his head tilts up, and his gaze searches the room for the source of the sound.

Her breath hitches when their eyes connect. He looks exhausted, cuts and blood all over him. But he’s standing. And when he registers that she’s there, he seems to let out a sigh.

He’s the one who’s returned to camp, but his eyes are telling her, Welcome home.

The next moment, she’s flown into his arms, and he’s ready, arms wrapping around her middle to pull her in close. The sound he makes when the impact of her hug knocks the air out of his lungs sounds a lot like her name.

“Bellamy,” she chokes out, burying her nose into his shoulder. She pulls her face away just to look at his. His eyelids are heavy over his shining eyes, a small smile curling his lips up. She puts her hands on his bloody cheeks, still cold from the icy wind outside, and tilts his face from side to side to inspect for damage. There’s a lot.

But that can be fixed. That’s the beautiful thing, isn’t it? She takes another deep breath, trying to calm down, trying to find that business like part of herself under the complete awareness that they’re being watched. “They told me you were dead.”

He tucks a tendril of hair behind her ear, tenderly. “Well, don’t believe everything you hear.”

She lets out a half-laugh, overwhelmed all over again by the crashing waves of emotion just by hearing the deep timbre of his voice, and instinctively surges up to press her forehead against his.

He freezes in place for just a moment, but then he relaxes, tilting his head into her space, and then they’re breathing the same square inch of air, lips oh so close but never touching. She feels the hot puff of air from between his lips, the brush of his nose against hers, even the fluttering of his eyelashes against her cheek when he rocks his face against hers, nuzzling from side to side.

“If you ever actually die, you better come and tell me your damn self,” she mutters at him, “Or I’ll never believe it.”

He huffs a laugh, immediately winces, and she pulls her forehead away to look down. She’s now startled to see a red stain on the side of his shirt, a wound that’s not been treated.

She hisses and reaches to touch it. “We need to get that treated right now. It could get infected.”

She glances to the side, looking for a spare bench to get him to sit on, but then his fingers are on her chin, forcing her to look back up at him. There’s nothing but patience and tenderness in his expression. “Shhh.” He bends down a little, and before she can really process it he presses his warm lips to her cheekbone, kissing away the last tear from her earlier outburst.

His lips remain there for another second and she struggles for coherence past the tears in her throat. “Get on the table. You’re hurt.”

“Clarke.” He presses his forehead back against hers and breathes, deeply. His hands cradle the back of her head, holding her to him. And when he speaks again, his rumbled words are deliberately quiet, for her ears only. “Nothing can hurt me now.”

#wellsjahasghost #bellarke fanfiction #the 100 fanfiction #bellarke fic #bellarke #the 100 #bellamy and clarke #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #bellarkechristmas2017 #bellarke christmas calendar #by jade

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bellarke · 6 years

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Bellarke Christmas Calendar 2017

December 24th: Merry Christmas from Bellarke.com

We want to thank everyone, our followers and especially all the awesome gif-makers, art-makers, fanfic-writers & fanvid-makers for helping us create another wonderful christmas calendar!

We wish everyone a merry christmas and everything good in this world for the new year ♥♥♥

#the100edit #bellarkeedit #bellamyblakeedit #clarkegriffinedit #bellarke #gif #bellamy and clarke #season 1 #109 #bellarkechristmas2017 #bellarke christmas calendar #by alessa #thank you to everyone ♥

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bellarke · 6 years

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And so the Feeling Grows

Bellarke Christmas Calender 2017

December 23rd:

by Rosie [bisexualbellamyblake] [ao3]

Word count: 7538

Rating: M

Thank you so much to Rosie ♥ for participating in our bellarke christmas. Please go and check out her other great work.

In general, Christmas is a sucky time to be in unrequited love with someone.

Not that unrequited love is ever that great, but the holiday season always makes it sting a little bit more. With the seemingly global sense that the end of the year is also the most romantic time of year, a lot of annoying practices start to take place when the weeks tick over from November to December: extended family and friends start wanting to know if you’re seeing anyone new, every movie on TV begins centring a couple falling in love over the holiday season, and going to any shop ever means having to look through stands of items that would apparently be perfect for a significant other.

Which is annoying, but usually tolerable.

Specifically to Clarke, this Christmas is a sucky time to be in unrequited love with someone, because the person she’s in unrequited love with also happens to be the person she’s eight months pregnant with.

And specifically to Clarke, it’s because that person is Bellamy, and today she has to come to terms with the unfortunate reality that she is still stupidly attracted to him when he’s wearing a ridiculous Christmas sweater.

Seriously, the combination of Christmas and pregnancy is not a good one.

“Are you seriously wearing that?” Clarke asks, after she manages to get her voice working again. She may have been standing by the door for a few long beats, eyes roaming over him, taking in the stupid tight red and white knit he’s got on, the pattern of reindeer and Christmas trees somehow not looking awful on him.

Bellamy looks over his shoulder and grins. He’s in their still mostly bare nursery, tape measure in one hand and a notepad in the other, and the fact that they’re about to go baby furniture shopping probably doesn’t help with how fond of him she is. Not that much does, these days.

“To your mum’s Christmas party? Probably not,” he teases, and Clarke rolls her eyes. “But today, yeah. That was the deal, wasn’t it?” He asks, which is technically true, but Clarke didn’t think he’d actually follow through with what was mostly just his response to her petulant grumblings. “You wear that one and I wear this one?”

She looks down, huffs out a short laugh at her own Christmas sweater. It’s not as ridiculous as Bellamy’s, could probably even be considered nice in different circumstances, but it still feels a little silly when it’s stretched over her very ballooned belly. But Bellamy bought it for her, so she’s wearing it. And apparently he’s wearing his one too.

“Yeah, I guess it was,” Clarke says, looking back up to give him a fond smile. “Anyway, you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, yeah.” He slips the little notepad into his back pocket before walking over to her, a hand unsurprisingly finding her belly as he presses a kiss to Clarke’s forehead. “And how is little Persephone today?”

Clarke laughs, ducking her head with a smile. “Bean is doing just fine. Woke up early this morning, but didn’t get too active until I was up myself, so that was nice.”

“Very considerate, Persephone,” Bellamy says, giving her belly one last rub as he grins teasingly at her, and seriously, it’s really, really unfair of him to do that to her.

So yeah, Christmas can suck it.

She had been sleeping with Bellamy for about a year when she found out she was pregnant, and it happened in what was probably the most clichéd way possible: sitting on the bathroom floor with a positive pregnancy test in her hand, about two weeks after realising she had fallen in love with him.

Which was honestly just really inconvenient timing.

He reacted basically how she expected, shifting from shocked to supportive before Clarke had even finished her rambling confession, and they decided that night that they were going to keep the baby and raise it together, as best friends. Which was a term that felt all too significant to Clarke, when Bellamy said it, and the part of her that had hoped that this might give her the courage to say something quickly died, leaving a bittersweet sense of happiness and excitement as Bellamy placed his hand over her still-flat stomach.

“We’re doing this,” he had said, almost a question, and Clarke had nodded, even managed a sincere smile. He was still her best friend, and that would always be enough.

“Yeah,” she said, placing her hand over his and squeezing. “We’re doing this.”

They saw the baby for the first time a week later, and both of them teared up when their little blob appeared on screen, when they heard the quick beat of its heart.

“You’re eight weeks along,” the ultrasound technician had told them. “Your baby is about the size of a kidney bean.”

And so they started calling their baby Bean.

The following months went by quickly, Bean growing bigger, Clarke getting a proper baby bump, and Bellamy beginning to buy tiny baby clothes and proceeding to send photos of them to her with an array of heart and smile emojis. Baby names started being discussed, and it wasn’t long before he was suggesting ones in the same vein as Octavia. Augustus was the easy one to start off with, but in a matter of weeks he’d flown through Hera and Neptune, Vulcan and Demeter, always managing to make Clarke lose herself in a fit of giggles, unable to help herself when he so seriously sung a lullaby to their dear Hermes. And when Bean started moving about, kicking and punching, she also grew used to Bellamy’s hovering, how much he loved touching her belly, talking to the baby and playing little games with it, always so loving and close.

None of which really helped with the fact that she was stupidly in love with him, but not much did; these were all just little things that she was slowly getting used to, that were becoming part of her routine.

He asked her to move in when she was six and a half months along, adorably formal as he went through what appeared to be a rehearsed speech outlining why it was a good idea, and two weeks later they were packing up her stuff and moving it into the room Miller used to reside. The spare room would become a nursery, which, as Bellamy pointed out, would allow him to be there whenever she or Bean needed. And so she grew used to that, too; sharing Bellamy’s space, seeing him sleep-rumpled before work each day and sitting at the kitchen bench to watch him cook each night, going grocery shopping and bickering over food choices and hanging out on the couch to binge watch something on Netflix.

And it all felt so good, living together and getting ready for the baby, Bellamy buying a photo album to put the first ultrasound pictures in and Clarke getting a onesie with I LOVE MY DAD printed on it, placing bets on whether it’d be a history nerd or an art nerd, that Clarke’s heart felt like it was just on a continuous cycle of bursting with excitement and love and fondness.

And now she’s wearing a stupid Christmas sweater that he bought her, while they’re shopping for Bean’s room, and honestly, she will admit that her life is a bit of a mess.

“Okay, so, yeah, I think we should get this one.”

Clarke startles, blinking up from where her eyes were fixated on Bellamy’s arms, to find him looking at her expectantly. Apparently she’s missed some of the conversation, but that’s not really surprising. His Christmas sweater is really and truly distracting.

“Hm?” She asks, and he huffs out a small laugh, eyes fond as he looks at her.

“This one,” he prompts, hand moving to the side of her belly to turn her to the crib in question, because he loves any excuse to touch it. It doesn’t really help with her being distracted, but it’s still nice. Unbelievably so.

“Yeah, this is a good one,” Clarke agrees, looking the crib over again. They’d done their research before shopping, and have looked at the various choices carefully in person today, and unsurprisingly, she was leaning towards this one too. “Plus, I liked the matching changing table we saw earlier,” she adds, nodding towards the previous section of the store. “And it goes with the dresser you’ve already got, so — colour co-ordination.”

“The most important aspect of a newborn’s bedroom,” Bellamy teases.

“Shut up,” she says, receiving a bright, happy grin in return, one that makes her melt a little bit.

Which is basically how the whole day has gone so far, just a series of Bellamy-interactions that have been simultaneously the best and the worst. His excited enthusiasm mixing with an adorable seriousness about anything baby-related. The fact that he can’t seem to stop touching her, even though they’re in public, always wanting to keep a hand on her belly, always so close. How he keeps talking to the baby, asking what its opinion is when they can’t agree on inane things like which Winnie the Pooh wall-art is best, trying to get a reaction to whatever he wants.

It’s honestly a surprise she hasn’t been more distracted, but she has had six or so months to get used to this side of Bellamy. By the time Bean arrives, she’ll probably be a pro.

“Okay, so, this crib, the changing table you liked, and then we just needed a stroller and a car seat, yeah?”

“Just that, yeah,” Clarke says, letting her head drop onto his shoulder and feeling his hand come up to rub at the nape of her neck. They’ve been here for an hour and a half, already, and he knows how quickly she gets tired on her feet these days. “I might need a power nap before we put any of this up today,” she adds, as his nails go to scratch at her scalp softly. “So be prepared for that.”

Bellamy chuckles, and Clarke makes herself stand back up, return his fond smile with a tired one of her own. “I’m prepared,” he assures. “But if you need a pick me up, I did see something earlier that I reckon you’ll like.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“I’ll show you,” Bellamy says, and he takes her hand before leading her to the part of the store housing children’s toys and accessories, making her increasingly suspicious. “Now, you gotta close your eyes first. The reveal is as important as the item.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it,” Bellamy counters, raising his brows until she does as he asks and closes her eyes, but not before she rolls them at him pointedly.

And then he’s gone, pulling his hand from hers as he does something about a foot away, from what she can tell, coming back in less than a minute and shifting her slightly so she’s apparently standing in the right direction.

“Okay, open,” he says, and when she does, he’s holding a little wooden carving of the letter ‘A’ up to her face. A smile grows immediately; after months of this, she knows exactly where it’s going, and Bellamy doesn’t disappoint. His own grin is huge. “Okay, so picture this: crib on the wall opposite the door, and just above it—” He gestures for her to look behind him, and she snorts as soon as she sees what he’s set up. The same little wooden alphabet carvings sitting on a ledge, spelling out H E P H A E S T U S. “Hephaestus. Definitely a good name.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she says again, and Bellamy grins.

“And yet, you still love it,” he throws back, and she shakes her head with a laugh. “And it helped, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, it did.”

“And now you’re ready to spend another two hours deciding which stroller is best?”

“Of course I am,” she says, biting back a smile as she squeezes Bellamy’s hand in thanks. “Let’s go find ourselves a stroller.”

Thankfully, it isn’t actually two hours. Between deciding on both a stroller and a car seat, it’s another hour at the store before they’ve decided on everything, and they manage to get it all paid for and packed into Bellamy’s car in another twenty minutes. Clarke’s still considering passing out on the drive home, but Raven texts as soon as they’re on the highway, and she’s feeling nice enough to hold out on her nap a little longer.

Raven: How fancy is “smart casual” in your family though Like, if I don’t rock up in a gown will I be turned away at the door? Srs answers only

Clarke: You don’t have to wear a gown, but that’s on the condition that your outfit contains colours like “mauvulous” and “zesty lemon” And is low-key ugly so rich ppl think it’s the new trend Think multiple types of fabric

Raven: Damn I knew it

Clarke: But actually, basically what you’d expect Probably no jeans and sneakers, but jeans and boots with a nice top will do

Raven: I guess that’s do-able What’re you wearing? Maybe i’ll just wear the same thing, but like, a hotter version

Clarke: Dick I don’t know I’ve complained about what I’m wearing to this party so much that Bellamy bought me this sweater yesterday and said I should just rock up in it [Img attached]

Raven: What the fkuc He bought you a fucking christmas maternity sweater??? And you’re wearing it??????

Clarke: It’s really comfy Shut up And besides I made him wear this in return [Img attached]

Raven: God you two are disgustingly together You’re literally wearing matching christmas sweaters what the fukc

Clarke feels herself flush, and can’t help but glance up at Bellamy, but his eyes are still focused on the road ahead of them, and he’s softly singing along to the Christmas carols on the radio.

Clarke: Shut up For that I’m making you go shopping with me next weekend But seriously, this kid won’t stop growing, and it’s making it impossible to choose something to wear in advance, unless it’s sweats with a very elastic elastic band

Raven: With boots and a nice top?

Clarke: Now I’m making you buy me lunch too

Raven: Yeah yeah Go make out with your “roommate” If only in the hopes that both of you will take those stupid fucking tops off

Clarke: [middle finger emoji] I fuckin WON’T

The thing is, Clarke knows Bellamy loves her.

They’ve been best friends for too long for her to think otherwise, have been there for each other through various shitty times, break ups and crises, that there’s no way Clarke could doubt it. He loves her, and it’s enough; his friendship has always been and will always be enough. She’d never want to ask him to give her something he doesn’t want to, would never want to risk how important he is to her, and so if they just continued down the path they’re on, continued being best friends, partners in every way but romantically, and raised their child together, she’d be happy.

As long as he’s in her life, Clarke’s good.

But right now, she’s thirty-five weeks pregnant, lying in Bellamy’s bed, with his arm wrapped protectively across her belly, and it’s a little hard not to want more.

Clarke: [Img attached]

Raven: Is this your way of telling me you finally figured your shit out?  Like, hey, here’s a pic of us in bed after we had sex all last night

Clarke: No I couldn’t even have sex all night if I wanted to, I’d get too tired

Raven: Pregnancy sounds awful

Clarke: Not always great, no  I couldn’t get to sleep last night bc of the storm  And I still feel like I’m crashing in miller’s room while I’m here And I made the mistake of knocking on bellamy’s door and complaining about it And he told me to come sleep with him and then proceeded to rub my belly and READ TO ME  To like, relax me idk  Anyway I woke up like this

Raven: What the absolute fuck You realise this isn’t normal right Like normal people don’t behave this way  Fuck I don’t understand your life

Clarke: Neither tbh

Raven: Okay but none of this explains why you’re basically naked

Clarke: I’m wearing pants And my top rode up during the night I promise I’m still wearing clothes, you just can’t see

Raven: A likely story If I could be bothered I would send a gif of “cut the bullshit, and share the damn bed”

Clarke: I’m literally in his bed right now

Raven: The implication is that you’re sharing the bed to GET LAID

Clarke: Whatever Stranger things was really good tho wasn’t it

Raven: Don’t change the subject

Clarke: I thought it was the natural progression of the conversation

Raven: It wasn’t, but I’ll let you off the hook Still on for today?

Clarke: Definitely Pick you up in an hour?

Raven: If it takes longer I’ll assume you couldn’t force yourself to get out of bed

Clarke: [Middle finger emoji]

To be fair, Clarke does give herself another minute before she tries to slip out of bed, and even that is mostly fuelled by her desire to prove Raven wrong. Unfortunately, as she tries to go, Bellamy’s hold on her tightens, and he pulls her back to him. She huffs out a small laugh as he wakes a little, hiding his face in her shoulder.

“Bellamy,” she says, soft so he can get back to sleep once she’s gone, receiving a hum in response. “I need to get up. I’m meeting Raven in an hour.”

“Mm-kay, princess,” he mumbles, still half-asleep, but he loosens his hold enough that Clarke manages to push herself up and out of bed.

She lets herself watch him for a moment, once she’s up, just taking in the sight of him, topless, hair a mess, sleep-rumpled in bed, looking so goddamn good it’s unfair. It’s not an image she’s witnessed in a long while, and it’s a little overwhelming, after sleeping in the same bed as him for the first time since she found out she was pregnant. And it was so easy last night, no awkwardness, both of them so effortlessly comfortable with one another, but she knows how it is: there’s obviously just a lot of left over ease with this kind of domesticity from when they were sleeping together.

“That doesn’t even sound like a real sentence to me,” Raven says, when Clarke shares the theory, and Clarke huffs, hip-checking her friend as they make their way to the less-awful maternity-wear stores. “I’m serious. It’s definitely not a thing. There’s no way I could wake up in bed with Finn and be all — comfortable with it, just because we used to share a bed all the time.”

“But you and Finn didn’t end on great terms.”

“At least we actually broke up,” she says, pointed. “Not that I’m — Finn was a shitty boyfriend, no doubt, but we actually had a conversation after what happened, spoke about it and ended things. You and Bellamy stopped having sex and haven’t even acknowledged the fact that you were fucking for like, over a year. It’s not like that doesn’t make shit awkward, too.”

“It’s more that we’ve got something else to focus on, I think. Like, having a kid together is a lot to organise, and we’ve mostly just been — getting ready for it, I guess.”

“What you’re describing is avoidance.”

“Probably,” Clarke agrees, before sighing, running a hand over her face. “But just let me have it, okay? I’m trying not to let my subconscious get its hopes up that Bellamy might — you know.” She groans. “Unrequited love fucking sucks.”

Raven chuckles softly, before taking Clarke’s hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. “Babe, I know I’ve told you this before, but I swear, if you said something, I’m about 99% sure Bellamy would combust with happiness right on the spot. You may not realise what you two are like from the outside, but I do. And it’s not just the baby, it’s just — how Bellamy is with you. How you are with each other.”

Clarke’s throat goes tight, and she swallows heavily as Raven’s words settle. It’s nothing her friend hasn’t said before, but for some reason it hits harder than usual. Still, she doesn’t want to think about it now, and so she just settles on clearing her throat and moving on.

“Okay, enough about this, tell me your relationship goss instead. Does Jaha know that Wells is dating you yet, or is that gonna be a fun Christmas surprise as he tries to set him up with someone else?”

Raven snorts a laugh, giving Clarke a knowing look, but thankfully she’s feeling kind enough to talk about her own stuff, and the conversation continues on from there, as they begin looking for clothes that will ideally fit over Clarke’s belly. It’s a long process that involves various shops and a stop for lunch where Clarke curses Bean’s desire to make clothes shopping literally impossible, but eventually they find a dress that works, that actually looks really nice.

Raven wolf-whistles, and Clarke bites back a smile as she looks at herself in the mirror.

“Yeah, that’s definitely the one.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow, catching her eye in the mirror. “So now we should find you something similar, but hotter?”

Raven snorts, shaking her head. “Nah, I’ll let you have this one. I’m still holding out for a dress made out of at least four different types of fabric.”

Clarke laughs. “Yeah, that’ll probably look better anyway.” She does her equivalent of flattening down the dress, which is more like feeling up her belly, and grins. “But I still like this one.”

“Clarke, if you’re not out in five minutes, I’m naming our kid Chronos.”

Clarke frowns, leaning back from the mirror. It takes her a minute, but she gets there. “The God of Time?” She calls out, smiling fondly when there’s a pause before —

“Yes!”

She rolls her eyes before focusing back in on getting ready. It’s not like she’s even taking that long, but Bellamy hates being late in the best of circumstances, let alone when it’s to her mum’s Christmas party. He’s never really accepted Clarke’s assurance that Abby likes him, and maybe Clarke should tell him about all the unsubtle hints her mum’s been dropping lately, about her and Bellamy just trying being a regular couple, but she’s not sure it’s come to that just yet.

If he’s still worried in a year’s time, she’ll give it a go, but for now, she’s keeping it to herself.

Ten minutes later, she’s done, thankfully with no more hassling from Bellamy about the time. She doesn’t love getting dressed up regularly, but once or twice a year it can be fun, and tonight’s actually looking promising. Bellamy, Raven and Wells will be there as back up, and Clarke’s actually excited to see some specific members of her extended family. Plus, she looks hot. The dress she bought is dark navy and long-sleeved, and it fits snug without being too tight. She’s got tights and boots on, because it’s winter and therefore fucking freezing, and her lips are stained red, with the rest of her makeup simple.

All together, she looks good, and it’s an exceedingly nice feeling whilst very pregnant.

She gives herself another half minute to get all her stuff together before heading out to meet Bellamy, passing the nursery and feeling her heart swell as she sees it mostly set up now, with a crib and changing table, a bookshelf and a dresser. They’re still putting all the smaller stuff in, still deciding on little pieces of art and which mobile they want to set up, but it feels so good, seeing how it’s come together. But Bellamy would probably be very dramatic it he found her ready, just standing in the nursery doorway, would probably tell her she’s sending him to an early grave, and so she makes herself continue on into the lounge room before he has gets the chance, finding him scrolling through his phone on the couch, dressed nicely in a good pair of navy trousers and a well-fitted blue shirt. His curls are in slightly more order than usual, and his glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose, and he looks so handsome that Clarke can tell she’s going to get distracted staring at him tonight.

But at least she’s prepared.

“Are you ready?” She asks, and he snorts a laugh, standing up from the couch.

“I was the one who was trying to hurry you up.”

“And yet here we are,” she says, going to grab her coat, and she looks over her shoulder to shoot Bellamy a teasing grin, only to find that he’s stopped a few feet from her, and is looking at her with an expression she can’t pin.

And no matter how good she was feeling just a minute earlier, she can’t help but feel self conscious as Bellamy looks her up and down, eyes focusing on her belly for a long beat before he meets her gaze. She hasn’t tried being this dressed up whilst pregnant, hasn’t had any reason to, and it’s a little intimidating, now that she’s standing right in front of him.

“Do I look okay?” She asks, after a moment. “Not too — pregnant?”

Bellamy clears his throat before a small smile pulls at his mouth, gentle. “You look very pregnant,” he tells her as he walks up to her, voice a little teasing. One hand unsurprisingly finds her belly, a touch Clarke always appreciates, and his eyes flit over her face as his smile widens. “Very pregnant and very gorgeous,” he continues, soft. “You look great, Clarke.”

She feels herself flush, head ducking down to hide her slightly ridiculous smile, and when she looks up, there’s a glint in his eyes that has Raven’s words echoing in her mind.

“You sure? There’s still time for me to get the sweater you bought.”

“But then I’d have to wear mine, too,” he reminds with a chuckle, bringing his free hand up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. “And I’m sure. You’re beautiful, princess.”

She would say her breath hitches, but she’s not sure she’s been breathing at all since he walked over to her. She doesn’t know how to respond, and silence stretches between them for one beat, and then two, before Bellamy smiles again, something almost wistful about it, before he lets her go and steps back.

“Come on, we better go now if we don’t want to be late.”

Clarke nods, feeling a little like the axis of her world has shifted just slightly, and follows Bellamy out of their little house. He takes her arm as they walk down to his car, since the ground’s a little icy and he’s overly protective, and opens the passenger door for her too, waiting until she’s sitting before he goes to close the door.

She grabs hold of his arm before he has a chance though. “Bellamy?” She says, a little loud and a little quick, needing to come up with something to say before they leave.

“Yeah?”

“You look — you look really beautiful, too,” she says. “I like your shirt.” The words somehow sound even worse aloud than they did the half-second they were in her head, but all he does is snort a laugh, and shake his head with a fond grin.

“Thanks, princess. It means a lot.”

He’s teasing, letting her off the hook, and Clarke smiles a little helplessly, before letting him go. He shuts the door and makes his way to the driver’s side, getting the car in gear and pulling onto the street to make the half hour drive to her mum’s place.

Clarke: You’ve broken me Bellamy said I look nice and my brain shut down

Raven: Only nice? Poor game, blake

Clarke: Okay, he said beautiful But still, my brain shut down and I’m blaming you for breaking me

Raven: I read this text to Wells and he legitimately laughed for like 30 seconds “I hope those crazy kids get their shit together”

Clarke: Your mockery is appreciated I’ll see you soon

Raven: If you don’t make it I’ll assume you pulled onto the side of the road for a quicky

Clarke: Stop using that line Also [Middle finger emoji]

They’re still one of the first people to arrive, despite Bellamy’s stressing, but it gives them time to talk to her mum and Marcus properly, for Bellamy to give them the bottle of wine he brought and for Clarke to try and shake off what both his and Raven’s words are doing to her and for Abby to insist on taking photos of them together.

“Your last Christmas before baby is born,” she says, as she snaps one of them in front of the perfectly-decorated Christmas tree, and Clarke feels Bellamy’s hand flex on her hip. It’s pretty amazing to think about: this time next year, they’ll be parents, getting ready for Bean’s first Christmas.

Other guests start pouring in throughout the next hour, until the living room is warm and lively, filled with people drinking and laughing and dancing and talking. Clarke’s pulled into various conversations, and by extension, Bellamy is too, and unsurprisingly a lot of them revolve around the baby. Questions of when it’s due, if they know the gender, whether they’ve landed on a name yet (she tries her hardest not to share an amused look with Bellamy, but when he leans in and whispers Chronus to her, she does have to hide her laughter in his shoulder).

They hang out with Wells and Raven once they arrive — Clarke unsurprisingly getting teased relentlessly when Bellamy goes to grab them champagne — dance together when her favourite Christmas song comes on, and even get roped into playing with some of Clarke’s cousins’ kids, none of which is really helping with how her mind is kind of spinning, how she’s hyper-aware of Bellamy’s every touch, of his every smile.

She makes it through to eleven before she’s tired enough to pull the pregnancy card, and after a long line of goodbyes, she and Bellamy manage to escape. She’s dozed off a little by the time they get home, and when he shakes her shoulder lightly to wake her, she opens her eyes to find him smiling at her fondly.

“Come on, princess, probably better to pass out in bed than sleep all night in the car.”

“If you say so,” Clarke sighs, letting him help her up and keep an arm around her going back into the house. It’s still slippery out. “I might just pass out in bed with my clothes still on, though,” she says sleepily, as they flick the lights on and she shrugs off her coat. “I’m not sure I have the energy to change into my pyjamas.”

“You’ll be uncomfortable,” Bellamy says, and she snorts a soft laugh, sending him a fond smile as she feels them come back to their centre. His returning one is wry. “You know I’m right.”

“I know you’re ridiculous,” she says.

“And yet, you’ll thank me when you don’t wake up in the middle of the night cold and uncomfortable. You hate wearing constricting things at night,” he reminds, and sometimes it is a little annoying how well he knows her, how much he listens when she complains. “Especially with Bean.”

“Fine,” she relents, making sure her voice is a grumble, because she knows he loves when she’s petulant. “But you’re helping me get out of the dress, because it took me like, five tries to get the zipper all the way up, and I’m not putting myself through that again.”

Bellamy chuckles, ducking his head before giving her a fond grin. “Whatever you say,” he says, indulgent. “I’ll lock up first.”

Clarke nods, and goes to start getting ready for bed. She washes her face first, and then brushes her teeth, because she knows that as soon as she’s in her pyjamas she’s likely to just collapse in bed and pass out, but soon enough she’s back in her bedroom, pulling off her boots and tights as Bellamy knocks on her door. He must’ve followed a similar routine, because he’s shirtless, only in his pyjama pants, slung low on his hips, and a little bit of toothpaste is still in the corner of his mouth.

And suddenly Clarke realises that this is a very bad idea.

But she’s asked him for help, and he’s said yes, so she smiles, turns her back to him, and pushes the hair from the nape of her neck.

And it feels so familiar, with it dark outside and in the quiet of night, having Bellamy touch her.

His hand finds the top of her dress, and the rough pad of his thumb runs lightly over her neck, making her shiver, and it’s like a jolt to her system, this heightened awareness of her body, of what Bellamy’s doing to her; what he always does to her.

He brings the zipper of her dress all the way down, the air cool on her now exposed back, and they just stand there like that for a lingering moment, Clarke feeling herself sway backwards slightly, into his warmth.

He lets his hands fall and she turns around, looking at him to find a flush to his cheeks, a flustered and maybe even guilty expression that has her heart beginning to race. He meets her eyes for one long moment before stepping back and turning to leave, but she catches his hand before he can.

And suddenly, it feels so simple.

“Bellamy,” she says, her voice coming out soft, pleading.

He meets her eyes again, but this time his gaze doesn’t waver. It feels like there’s both a question and an answer in there, all at once, and it makes it so easy to step forward, into his space as much as she can with her belly between them, and rise up onto her toes to press her mouth to his.

She remembers the last kiss they shared exactly, at their first ultrasound together. After seeing Bean for the first time, hearing its heartbeat, and feeling overcome with emotion, Clarke had reached out to Bellamy, tilted her head to bring her lips up to his. It was short but sweet, intimate, and like sleeping together, they never acknowledged it, and haven’t done it since.

Now, though, Bellamy melts into her, lets out a soft and familiar sigh as his free hand moves up to her face. He cradles it gently, before tilting her head slightly to deepen the kiss, and Clarke lets herself fall into it too, lets her hands slide up into his hair, curl into it and tug a little, just like she knows he loves. Lets herself part his lips with her tongue, kiss him deeper, harder, longer, until she can taste the champagne he’s been drinking, until she needs to tilt her head back to draw in a few shaky breaths.

She makes herself look at him, his eyes dark with lust, but with a glint of something more there, too, something heavy that makes her heart burst. He’s as wrapped around her as he can be, one hand on her side, thumb absently rubbing her belly, and the other now at the base of her neck, keeping her close, and there’s a long moment where they just watch each other, soft and unobtrusive, a warmth building between them, before they’re both moving again, Bellamy dipping as Clarke rises. And it’s quicker this time, him swallowing her whimper with a kiss that’s desperate, that feels like it’s pouring seven months of separation into it. It’s hot and wet in seconds, a perfect combination of tongue and lips and teeth, and it sends a rush through Clarke’s whole body, one she hasn’t felt since the last night they spent together, before she told him she was pregnant.

She presses against his chest, and he pulls back for a moment, smile confused.

“Bedroom,” she murmurs, already leaning back in when he chuckles.

“We’re already in a bedroom,” he points out, but she’s already shaking her head.

“Your bedroom,” she insists, pushing him again, until he catches up and starts walking them to his room instead. “I don’t like my one,” she says, between more kisses. “It still doesn’t feel like mine. And your bed is more comfortable.”

Bellamy kisses her one more time, laughing a little as he pulls back properly, smile so wide it feels like it could split his face in two. He pulls her into his room and shuts the door, despite them being the only ones here, and unsurprisingly it slows them down.

“Are you sure?” He asks, eyes moving across her face like he’s trying to memorise her, memorise the moment. “Because I don’t want to move things more than you want, but — fuck, Clarke, you gotta be sure.”

He sounds about as wrecked as she feels, in the best way possible, and Clarke leans up pointedly, claiming his mouth in a slow, loving kiss. When she pulls back, she’s smiling, and Bellamy’s responding one is the best thing she’s ever seen.

“I’m certain,” she says, taking the opportunity to pull her arms free from her dress, tug it down over her baby bump and let it slip onto the floor, leaving her only in her underwear.

And it feels a little like being in the dress again, the way his gaze shifts, moving down her body and once again lingering at her belly. He’s seen her in various states of undress, of course, and is very familiar with her bare baby bump, but it’s different from being this exposed to him when they were sleeping together, different from laying on the couch with her top up so he can have some baby time. It somehow feels more intimate, puts Clarke in a more vulnerable state than she’s used to being in front of him. But Bellamy’s eyes find hers again, and when he smiles, she’s not sure she’s ever seem him so filled to the brim with happiness.

“God, you look good,” he says, something like awe in his voice, and Clarke chokes out a slightly watery laugh. It’s all a little overwhelming, despite how much she wants this, despite how good he’s being. “I don’t want you to think, pregnancy’s like — a kink for me, or something. But fuck, Clarke, it’s been so hard to keep my hands off of you these past few months. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

This laugh comes out stronger, and she steps forward to slide her hands up Bellamy’s chest and to his shoulders, his skin warm under her touch, as she leans up again to kiss him again, long and deep and perfect.

“Better start making up for lost time, then.”

And he does, kissing her until she melts right back into him, walking her back to his bed like he used to, helping her settle onto it gently, so achingly careful with her.

And it’s both familiar and new, being in bed with him again. A combination of ease from their past experience with each other, and working things out around her belly, but of course they figure it out, until it’s comfortable, until it’s good, until Bellamy starts mouthing at her jaw, starts dropping kisses down her neck and onto her chest, until he’s unclasping her bra and sucking a nipple into his mouth, careful because of course he remembers she might be sensitive.

He learns her new body slowly, indulgently, touch reverent and mouth achingly loving, shuffling down and leaving kisses until he’s back right between her thighs, parting her slowly and licking into her, driving her crazy with his talented tongue and fingers. She comes twice with him settled in the cradle of her thighs, fingers curled tight into his hair as he brings her over the edge, and when he kisses his way back up to her, he’s unsurprised that she catches his mouth in a desperate kiss, licking her taste off of his tongue like she used to.

And still, after that, it’s easy. She’s done her research on getting off by herself whilst pregnant, just to be safe, and reading about sex was a natural progression to that, so it’s not hard, telling Bellamy which positions are best for them, and it still takes some getting used to, of course, still re-learning each other, but it’s still just so good.

And when he spoons her from behind, mouth on her neck as he presses into her, it’s perfect. Shallow thrusts that have her arching into him, that have her skin alight with pleasure and need and happiness, his fingers at the apex of her thighs to bring her up one last time. She tilts her head back before she comes, finding his mouth in a hot, desperate kiss, and he follows as she clenches around him.

They’re both panting by the end of it, and after Bellamy pulls out Clarke gets up the energy to turn over and face him.

His hand finds her belly, moving over it gently, and she smiles.

“I’ve missed that.”

Bellamy chuckles, ducking his head with a rueful smile. “Yeah, I’m not sure why we stopped.”

“Because we’re idiots,” Clarke says, but she feels like she could burst with happiness, and when Bellamy finds her hand, slips his fingers between hers, that feeling doubles.

“I, um — I was planning on saying something before you got pregnant,” he says, voice low and a little rough. “But it felt like too much, once you told me. I mean, fuck, I was having enough trouble trying to ask my best friend if she wanted to date, let alone my best friend whom I’d just gotten pregnant to date.” Clarke laughs softly, and Bellamy’s responding smile is a little helpless. “Miller called me an idiot about fifty times. I’m pretty sure he moved out just so I had an excuse to ask you to move in. But, yeah—” He clears his throat, takes a breath before he continues. “I just wanted to say, it’s not just because you’re pregnant, and that we’re having this baby together. I love Bean, too, don’t get me wrong, but I fell for you before that. I love you. Just you.”

And it’s impossible not to lean in and kiss him again, impossible not to feel overwhelmed with how much she loves him.

“Yeah,” she says, and it’s incredible how easy it feels now, after months of worrying. “I love you, too. And I’m really glad to be having this bean with you.”

“Little Poseidon?”

Clarke grins, can’t help but break into a small fit of giggles. “We can discuss it in the morning.”

Bellamy grins too, wraps him arm around her and pulls her in close. “Sounds perfect.”

Clarke: [Img attached]

Raven: Do I want an explanation?

Clarke: Say what you said last time

Raven: God you’re needy, gimme a sec Is this your way of telling me you finally figured your shit out? Like, hey, here’s a pic of us in bed after we had sex all last night I’ve copied that word for word btw

Clarke: Proud of you And yeah, it is

Raven: Congrats on the sex And I’m glad you figured this all out before bean is born Bc really, that would’ve been a clusterfuck

Clarke: Probably But I’m glad I won’t have to find out

Raven: Wow pregnancy has made you sappy

Clarke: It’s true [Img attached]

Raven: Jesus, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Bellamy smile so hard Now stop texting me and go make out with your boyfriend

Clarke: Yeah, good plan

She puts her phone down, places her hand on top of Bellamy’s, where it’s unsurprisingly rubbing over her belly. Bean is already up and active, and he presses down on where their little foot is poking out, just saying hello.

“I think Bean knows,” Bellamy murmurs, and Clarke laughs softly, shifting to look at him properly, take in his happy, sleepy grin. She’s pretty sure she’s never seen anything better, and she can’t help but lean in to give him a sweet kiss.

Bean shifts, and Clarke pulls back to laugh.

“Yeah, feels like it,” she agrees. “Maybe just knows I’m happy.”

Bellamy swallows. “Yeah?”

“Stupidly so,” Clarke says, a little helplessly, and his grin widens, slow and perfect. “Best Christmas ever, definitely.”

“I don’t know,” Bellamy says, pulling her back close, lips finding her jaw, leaving a trail of soft kisses. “I reckon the next few will give this one a run for its money.”

(And on Julia’s first Christmas, Clarke can’t help but agree.

Her husband is a smart man.)

#bisexualbellamyblake #bellarke fanfiction #the 100 fanfiction #bellarke fic #bellarke #the 100 #bellamy and clarke #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #bellarkechristmas2017 #bellarke christmas calendar #by rosie

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bellarke · 6 years

Text

You Can’t Deny This Gift

Bellarke Christmas Calender 2017

December 19th:

by Hannagh [flawlessbanshee/] [ao3] | Beta: foreverfelicityqueen

Word count: 3967

Thank you so much to Hannagh ♥ for participating in our bellarke christmas. Please go and check out her other great work.

Clarke hates Secret Snowflake.

She loves her job and that’s only amplified by most of her coworkers, who she considers family, but Secret Snowflake makes her kind of hate them. The stress of the office draw, the budget, people swapping names and the unpredictability of it all irritates her.

The only thing that could possibly be considered to irritate her more. Is Bellamy Blake.

They’re both heads of their own departments and equals in the hierarchy scheme and in power. They also hate each other.

It’s been going on for as long as Clarke can remember. Both competitive as hell and ready to fight for what they want. Forceful, strong, defensive. They offset each other in the worst way more often than not. It’s better now than it ever has been. They’ve settled in to a truce of sorts and Clarke can admit that even if they aren’t friends they’ve worked together for long enough that they’ve become used to each other, often civil and when they have to work together they can. Slotting into each other's work methods and working as a team more smoothly than anyone could have guessed. Mostly though they spend their time working each other up and pressing each others buttons. Their rivalry is common office gossip and today is no different.

When Bellamy yells out Clarke’s name the entire office’s eyes flick to her waiting for a reaction, but it’s early on a Wednesday morning and Clarke isn’t ready for a fight.

“Bellamy?” Clarke answers calmly pushing her chair back and away from her desk standing to greet him.

“I thought we agreed that I’d take the Diaz meeting?” Bellamy snaps coming to a stop at the edge of her desk. He’s wide eyed and his jaw ticks showing his obvious irritation with her. Clarke only draws herself up and replies in her most business like tone.

“Well they called, they want an extension to the campaign including graphics for social media, and public transport,” she answers. “So they want me to show them some new designs.”

When Bellamy doesn’t reply Clarke moves past him towards the coffee machine, on mornings like these she thanks God and all other higher beings for coffee. Bellamy follows behind her and rests his hip up against the counter as she makes her cup.

“I was preparing the materials all of yesterday,” he grumbles at her. “You could have told me sooner.”

“What and loose the pleasure of seeing you over react?” Clarke laughs. “I sent you an email didn’t I?”

Bellamy just shakes his head and reaches past her to get a cup of his own and Clarke passes him her teaspoon when he looks at her again. He sighs and takes it from her, over the years Clarke has picked up a few tell tail hints and tricks the can defuse Bellamy’s behaviour. Distracting him with coffee and maybe a large donut in the morning is alway a winner.

“You’re doing secret snowflake this year, right?” Bellamy asks just before they leave the kitchen.

“Yep, gotta promote that team spirit,” Clarke chirps sarcastically. “You?”

“Mmmmm,” he replies stirring his drink. “Couldn’t avoid it this year. Monty forced my name into the hat.”

“Maybe it’ll help you with that bad attitude, add some Christmas spirit to you,” Clarke prods. Bellamy smirks at her.

“I know you hate it too Griffin.” Clarke tries to deny it but Bellamy strides towards his desk before she can say anything. God she hates him.

Monty and Jasper summon everyone to the meeting room later that day to draw names. It’s a small office and Clarke can recognise every face in the room, even Murphy’s there watching as Jasper circulates excitedly forcing a hat filled with names onto people.

Clarke see’s Bellamy standing next to Miller, he looks bored as always and is watching Jasper with curious eyes as each team member pulls out a name. Finally it reaches him. He smiles at Jasper and Monty while reaching into the hat but his face drops a little when he reads the name on his piece of paper.

Finally, Jasper stands in front of Clarke, hat in hand, offering it to her. “Ms. Griffin.”

Monty tries to peak over her shoulder as Clarke pulls out the paper and reads, in his own block capitals “Bellamy Blake”.

Well fuck. She should have known. Fate is conspiring against her. She forces a smile and looks back at Jasper and Monty, thanking them and hiding the paper from their sight. Clarke glances up and see’s Bellamy already on his work phone drifting towards the door. He catches her staring and raises a brow in question.

Secret Snowflake sucks.

______________

“That’s possibly the most hilarious thing to happen to you this year,” Raven declares as they’re getting drinks after work. Clarke huffs and thins her lips. “Oh come on, it’s like the beginning of some Hallmark movie. All you need is a dog and to make all your friends white and you could see it.” Raven laughs.

“Ugh, I don’t even like him, what am I going to get him?” Clarke whines swirling her drink in the bottom of the glass.

Raven just hums and picks up the bottle to refill their glasses.

“What?” asks `Clarke.

“Nothing… I just kinda assumed you did like him.” She offers smirking to herself. Clarke snorts into her drink.

“What?! Raven you can’t be serious?!” the blonde asks shocked.

“Well you talk about him… like a lot and I always just assumed that the shouting matches were a weird type of foreplay, a way to get the tension out. And honestly who would blame you. He’s the walking talking version of a Greek God I’d let him tie me up...or down....whatever he wanted really.”

“It’s not sexual tension!” Clarke objected.

“Are you sure?”

“I think I would know.”

“But you do think he’s hot?” Raven coaxed. Clarke takes a gulp of wine to avoid answering but judging by the way Raven is laughing at her she already knows.

______________

She hurries over to Bellamy’s desk the second she gets the email. Honestly this isn’t how she wanted her day to go. Not after Raven threw weird ideas in her head, that kept her up half the night dreaming about the toned abs Bellamy had to have under his shirt. Not that she was thinking about those now. Nope.

“Did you see?” she demands, he looks confused for a second and she flicks her eyes to his computer. He gets the hint and opens his emails. She watches as his face changes from confusion to annoyance to frustration.

Their CEO and not so glorious leader is hardly ever here. Jaha seems to think that because Ark Industries is small his quarterly appearances count as running the business. Now he’s just dropped a new client on them, a big account employing them to do all aspects of a large marketing campaign and giving them little time to do it.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Now?” he asks rubbing a hand over his face.

“Tomorrow, 9am.” Clarke offers, meeting his eye. “I guess we’ll be staying late Blake.”

It takes them 5 hours to come up with a logo they can both work with. Clarke is sitting at her design desk drawing up the last few options when she hears Bellamy send Harper home just behind her. It’s been dark outside for hours and Clarke’s eyes are beginning to blur.

“Come on Princess,” Bellamy says. “Take a break.”

Bellamy is on his phone tapping away when Clarke looks up. He hair is a mess, obviously having run his hand through it one to many times, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows.

“Unless you’ve got food hidden behind you i’ll pass,” Clarke informed, rubbing her eyes.

Bellamy smirked and waved his phone at her.

“Don’t look so shocked, I can be a nice person.”

“i guess there’s a first time for everything,” Clarke teases “If it’s pizza there better not be pineapple on it.”

“What do you think I am Clarke?” Bellamy gasps dramatically. “Some kind of savage?”

It’s almost relaxing sitting with Bellamy in the meeting room, her feet tucked under her and an empty pizza box between them. Bellamy’s outside on the phone to his sister and Clarke watches as he walks up and down next to the glass windows.

When he walks back in he looks more frustrated than he has all evening and he drops into his chair with a huff.

“You good?” she worried.

“Yeah just… I was meant to help my sisters boyfriend, Lincoln, set up for his art show and she already thinks I hate him,” he supplies massaging his temple.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Clarke offers. “I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Bellamy laughs and shakes his head.

“Eventually, she’s just,” he pauses trying to think of the right word “Stubborn.”

“Must run in the family,” Clarke nudged, he laughs in response.

“Yeah, well I kind of raised her so I shouldn’t be shocked.” Clarke raises her eyebrows, he never talks about his homelife much, she knows bits and pieces but she’s never heard him talk as candidly to her about it. “I mean, I love her don’t get me wrong. But sometimes she’s so strong willed and I forget she’s not a child. It causes tension.”

“You raised her well though.” Clarke offers. “Being strong willed isn’t a bad thing.”

“I know,” Bellamy replies, meeting her eye for a minute. “But she’s just graduated so...it’s a period of adjustment.”

He finishes closing up the pizza box. Clarke follows suit and picks up the rest of the rubbish they’ve left. He’s revealed more about himself then before and Clarke seen a new side to him and his life. It explained a lot, why he was so patient and kind to younger staff members, why he looked after every member of his team, and hers, carefully. He worked hard and long hours. She knew his feathers were ruffled easily when money was mentioned. It also explains why he hated her when they first met. He’d assumed she was a rich girl who’d walked into a job held for her.

The pause was becoming longer and Clarke tried a different subject.

“Wait, your sisters boyfriend, it’s not Lincoln Woods is it? she wondered, walking through the door as Bellamy holds it open. He looks shocked for a second before recovering.

“Yeah, do you know him?”

“Only through his work,” she admits. “But he’s a great artist.” Bellamy just nods in response as they drop the rubbish into the bin.

They work the rest of the night side by side. Pushing each other to bigger and better ideas, working together well and supporting each other through the tiredness and brain block to get the work done.

They ace the pitch the next day. The client is so impressed with their work and strategy he signs on the spot. It’s a massive win for the small team and even Jaha, whose graced the meeting with his presence, looks impressed.

Clarke beams at Bellamy as soon as they’re alone. He grins just as brightly back and steps towards her.

“Nice work Griffin.” He compliments, and Clarke can’t even detect a hint of sarcasm.

“Couldn’t have done it without you Blake,” she returns. It feels odd to compliment him so openly and honestly, but it also feels good. Like somethings opened up between them and they’ve allowed it to move their relationship forward.

______________

She goes to Lincoln’s art show. It’s a wet Monday night so she gets the Gallery all to herself. She gets to admire Lincoln’s work alone and in silence.

She makes the decision to text Bellamy on the way home. She has his personal number and they’ve exchanged a few work related texts before but this would be a step forward between them. She has a glass of wine before she presses send.

Lincoln’s show was great by the way. Good job.

She waits a few seconds and then she sees the grey bubbles that indicate he’s typing back.

Glad you enjoyed it Princess, I did very little to help.

I’m sure you were required for heavy lifting and moral support.

I’m glad you appreciate my contribution.

I always do Bellamy.

That’s nice to know.

Let Lincoln know I enjoyed his show, maybe it’ll help convince Octavia you like him.

It’s a long shot, but I will!

From then, they text more and more. It becomes familiar to Clarke that after work she’ll text Bellamy. They avoid talking about work but cover everything in between. It’s nice and easy between them and Clarke finds herself smiling at her phone in the evenings a lot more.

____________

The office Christmas party is 15 days away and Clarke still hasn’t gotten Bellamy a gift.

She has honestly been looking but everything she sees isn’t right. She’s on the verge of getting him a christmas jumper and a some tacky gift when an opportunity falls right into her lap. She’s having lunch and Miller sits down next to her. Miller is Bellamy’s best friend who works in the social media team. Which is ironic because Clarke doesn’t think she’s ever heard him speak more than 5 words at a time. But at this point anything is worth a shot.

“So,” she says dropping her lunch down next to him. “Secret snowflake.”

“I’m not swapping,” Miller declares focusing on his food.

“I don’t want to swap,” Clarke says offended. “I want help.”

That makes Miller look up, he looks over Clarke for a second before nodding at her to continue.

“So I drew Bellamy’s name and I have no idea what to get him, suggestions?” She urged.

“Just get him something he’ll hate.” Miller suggests, poking around at his lunch. Clarke scrunches up her face. She thought about that, she honestly did but they’re somewhat friends...or at least something more than enemies and she doesn’t want to go backwards. So she tries again.

“I kinda wanted to get him something he’d actually like, we’ve worked together long enough that I should get him something he actually wants.” She pushes, trying to convince Miller.

He doesn’t look up again but Clarke hears the slight “hmp” sound he makes and waits till he finishes thinking.

“You know he named his sister? Octavia after the sister of-” But Clarke cuts Miller off before he can finish.

“Agustus! Yeah. He did a history degree right?” Clarke fills in, she can work with that. “Thanks Miller.”

He just nods at her as she stands up and offers her a small wave. Clarke spends the rest of the day subtly googling history related gifts that come within the budget. It probably isn’t a great idea to do it while she’s at work.

“Clarke,” Bellamy asks as she panic closes the screen. “Have you seen the feedback from Kane?”

“Yeah erm did you want to talk about it?” she offered gathering up some papers.

“No no it’s fine, you’re bus0,y” he waved her off moving to leave.

“Bellamy it’s fine,” she assured. “I was just looking up stuff for my secret snowflake.”

“Oh? You get someone you like?” Clarke smiled and then cocked her head to the side.

“I guess, they’re kind of a bitch to buy for though. They’ll probably complain.” she alluded and he wrinkled his face up in confusion.

“It isn’t Murphy is it? “ he guessed and Clarke laughed.

____________

The office Christmas party is a fancy affair. They join with the other teams and the company splashes out for a fully funded event in a fancy hotel downtown.

She’d given Monty her gift earlier. He’d smirked when he’d seen the name on it but one look at Clarke had silenced any comment he was going to make, each year Monty and Jasper interrupt people, sloppy after to many drinks, and pass out the gifts.

Clarke slips into her new christmas dress. It's a red off the shoulder dress, more elegant and slightly more revealing than she’d usually wear to a work but when Raven had forced her into it in the store she couldn’t deny she looked good. She gently curled her hair and added a red lipstick to her normal makeup. Making sure she drops her room key in her clutch and heads downstairs to the party.

Jaha has out done himself this year, even Clarke’s mum would be impressed with the level of planning that had gone into the event. There was a small raised platform with a DJ and what looked like room for a band, the tables were set with cream linens and shining glasses. The lights were dimmed and replaced with fairy lights cascading down walls.

A champagne glass appeared in front of Clarke as she admired the room. Bellamy stood next to her dressed in a black suit, the tie was still slightly loose as always and his hair was a mess.

“You look good,” he swallowed out offering her the glass. Clarke smiled and ignored the glass to grab at his tie and tighten it a little. Once she was finished she smooths the tie against his chest.

“And now you do to Blake.” She takes the glass he was holding for. “You scrub up well.”

A faint blush appears across Bellamy’s ears and he looks down nervously.

“You better be careful Clarke, keep complimenting me people might think we’re friends.” Bellamy quips, Clarke just rolls her eyes at him before they’re interrupted by Monroe dragging them over to the ice sculpture in the middle of the room.

By the time dinner is over and everyone’s plates have been cleared Jasper and Monty are ready to hand out their presents. They round up everyone in the corner of the room and Clarke wedges herself in next to Miller and Harper hoping that at least one of them will keep her distracted.

It’s not that she’s nervous about Bellamy opening his gift, but if he doesn’t like it or it’s too much she wants to be able to avoid eye contact with him.

Miller blushes deep red next to her as he opens a CD and hangover kit from Monty, Murphy actually smiles when he opens his gift from Emori and Charlotte screams at the customised Harry Potter glasses she receives. Jasper shoves Clarke’s gift into her hand while she’s admiring the gifts Harper got. It’s a large rectangle shape, wrapped simply.

“Clarke, you have to open it,” Jasper prompts her eyes flicking from the gift to her face with a look of utter glee which make Clarke nervous.

She unwraps the gift carefully and notices straight away it’s a painting, she pulls off the rest of the paper and knows who the artist is straight away. Lincoln. She’d seen this piece at the gallery and loved it on site.

She scans the room for Bellamy and finds him already watching her out the side of his eye checking for her reaction. She smiles at him nodding happily and mouths thank you in his direction.

Jasper watches their exchange intensely until Monty moves him on. Clarke looks down at the painting again. It’s a landscape of the city’s skyline, multicoloured and vibrant with Lincoln’s own unique stamp all over it. She almost forgets to look up when eventually Bellamy’s name is called out. Monty hands him the gift. Clarke looks on nervously, his gift for her is something he knew she would love, now thinking about her own gift makes her feel almost silly.

He seems happy with the museum tickets she’d thrown in as a last minute thought but then he sees the book. An old copy of The Odyssey used before Clarke picked it up second hand, through it she’s drawn illustrations of story. She covered any space she could with sketches and drawings from the plot filling in extra details with her own imagination. She watches as Bellamy flicks through unable to see the expression on his face.

Eventually secret snowflake is over for another year and the crowds drift off, Clarke winds her way through the tables and towards Bellamy. He’s drifted over to his seat and is still turning the pages to the book.

“Merry Christmas,” she brakes in, pulling him out of his thoughts and sitting down next to him gently.

“Hey, Clarke,” he looks up at her, and she almost doesn’t know what to make of the expression on his face. Almost.

But she knows the look, or at least she thinks she does. She is sure he’s happy, happier than she thinks she’s ever seen him at a work event.

“You liked the painting?” He asks meeting her eyes for the first time since she opened it.

She still held it close to her, as if too many eyes on it would break the magic of the gift. “I love it. Did it score you any points with your sister?”

“After about 20 minutes of me convincing her I was not in fact joking,” he chuckles, but his eyes drifted back to book.

“I have a confession.”

He looks at her again, and she’s not sure how she could have gone so long without actually see him.

“I got your name for secret snowflake, but I didn’t know what to get you. So I kind of convinced Miller to give me some insight,” she pauses, biting her lip. “I hope that’s okay.”

“You did all this?” he was pointing to the drawings. “For me?”

“It’s not that big of a deal. I just wanted to do something… special I guess.”

“Clarke, it’s amazing,” Bellamy praises resting his hand gently on her knee. “Thank you.”

Clarke smiles softly and lets her eyes wander down to his hand. His palm is resting on the bare skin of her knee and she can feel the warmth settle into her.

“Should we get a drink?” Bellamy asks after a moment but Clarke just shakes her head.

“No, I think I’m good right here for now…” she assures letting her eyes drop to his lips and back up to his eyes again. It not the perfect angle, but they make it work. Clarke leans in at the same time as Bellamy. It’s soft and slow. Everything is the opposite from the start of their relationship but it feels comfortable and sure. Bellamy is the first to pull back brushing his hand along Clarke’s cheek.

“That was… if I say better than a secret snowflake gift will you kill me?” Clarke laughs and rests her forehead against his.

“.... I might need a bit more persuading,” she smiles leaning back in to kiss him. She gets more leverage this time by leaning her hand against his thigh to move herself closer to him. Sucking his lip into her mouth Clarke focused on Bellamy, running her hand through his hair and the heat of his hand on her bare leg.

“I have a room,” he mumbles against her ear, kissing the side of her cheek gently. “And a king sized bed.”

His hand reaching further and further under her dress and she could feel the back and forth motion of his thumb leaving shivers in its wake.

She stands and grabs his hand just before it reaches the top of her thigh and pulls him up.

Bellamy smirks at her and waits for her to rise to the challenge. She does obviously, and picks up her gift and saunters out of the party and towards the lifts. Bellamy following behind hand dangerously low on her back, stroking the zip line.

Clarke hates secret snowflake, but she can’t say she hates Bellamy Blake anymore, not now that she knows what he can do with that mouth.

#flawlessbanshee #bellarke fanfiction #the 100 fanfiction #bellarke fic #bellarke #the 100 #bellamy and clarke #bellamy blarke #clarke griffin #bellarkechristmas2017 #bellarke christmas calendar #by hannagh

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