Archive of Our Own ^beta

"How do you feel about stunt-casting?"

It's not the most encouraging opening Clarke has ever heard, and she narrows her eyes at Anya, wary. The fact that her full attention is on her phone doesn't help; there are red flags all over this one. "Stunt-casting?"

"It's a good job. Exactly what you've been saying you want. A regular role on a TV series filming here in LA. The antagonist, but essentially a co-lead, and you'd have a lot to work with. Complicated, nuanced work."

"Sounds great. What makes it stunt-casting?"

Anya clucks her tongue. "Bellamy Blake has already been cast as the protagonist."

As soon as she says it, it feels as if she couldn't have said anything else. Aside from being cast opposite her mother, there isn't a lot of other stunt-casting Clarke could think of that Anya would be remarking on. She feels stupid for not having thought of Bellamy, but it's not as if he's on her mind much, these days.

"What's the premise?" she asks.

"Science fiction, taking place on a space station. It's not reinventing the wheel, but it's a solid pilot, and a good role for you, like I said. Bellamy plays the head of security on the space station, and you're one of the more prominent criminals. As I said, it's a nuanced role--the character is sympathetic, and the system is flawed. Shades of gray, very trendy."

"Am I human?"

"You are. No alien makeup to worry about."

"Did they say it would be stunt-casting, or was it just implied?"

"It's not as if your animosity is a secret," she says, cool. "I would assume it was a factor. SyFy doesn't have the name recognition other channels do, and the show is original, not based on an existing franchise. Bellamy's a name, but not a huge one, not even as much of one as you are. The two of you working together again after all these years would be something of an event. Especially since your relationship will more accurately reflect your real-life feelings for each other."

Clarke snorts. "You mean, we won't have to pretend to like each other?"

"Method acting. You don't have to do it, obviously, but I think it would be stupid not to at least talk to them. As I said, it's everything you've been asking me to find you, and they asked for you specifically."

"Do we know what Bellamy thinks?"

"I assume he's aware, but I haven't spoken with him. If you want to get in touch before you make a decision--"

"I'm a little curious," she admits. "I want to see the script."

Anya hands it over, clearly prepared for this. "Give it a read, let me know if you have any questions. Your lines are highlighted. Obviously, it's a pilot, things can and will change, but the bones are good. And you and Bellamy do make a compelling pair."

"That's not a selling point," she mutters.

"Not for you. But for everyone else--"

She'd like to believe that no one cares about her and Bellamy Blake anymore, but of course it's not true. The two of them starred in a successful young-adult franchise together, working together for four years on three films, and they're still popular. They're good movies, Clarke can admit, and she and Bellamy did have fairly undeniable chemistry. They might not have wanted to be in the same room together if they could avoid it, but it hadn't actually shown on-screen. It's was their out-of-character appearances that gave them away, but luckily the studio thought it was good publicity, never minded that they had trouble hiding their dislike for each other without the protective layer of fiction. It became a strange kind of selling point, never directly remarked on, but widely known. The press took an almost perverse glee in forcing them to say nice things about each other, and the studio sent them to events together as much as possible.

It had still been oddly melancholy, when their last press tour finished. She might not have liked Bellamy, but they were allies for a long time, and there was an odd place in her life when he left it, a space that's never been filled the same way.

"I'll take a look at the script," she says, firm. "And let you know when I'm done."

"Perfect. It is my professional opinion that you should take it," Anya adds. "In case you were wondering."

"I got that, yeah." She flips through the script, scanning for the highlighted lines. There are a lot of them; it really is a leading role. "Like I said, I'll let you know."

*

The call comes right about when Bellamy was expecting it, but there’s still this brief, sharp flash of surprise at the sight of Clarke Griffin’s name on his phone's display. Part of him had wondered if she’d dismiss the whole thing out of hand, or if she wouldn’t get in touch, but this had seemed most likely. Clarke likes to have all the information.

Or at least, she used to. It’s been ten years since the Windriders series; people change.

He picks up on the second ring. “Hey, Clarke.”

“Hey. Congrats on the new gig.”

A goofy smile creeps over his face, but at least there are no witnesses. He's never actually been the lead on a TV show before, and he still doesn't quite believe it."Thanks, I'm pretty psyched."

"You should be. It's a great part."

"It is," he agrees, and refuses to say anything else. He knows exactly why Clarke is calling, but he wants to hear her say it.

"I'm trying to figure out what exactly happened," is what she finally says. "Whose idea was it to cast me as Alexander?"

"Charles Pike."

She pauses again. "He's the showrunner?"

"Yeah. You didn't know?"

"Anya just told me about you."

"The most important part," he teases.

"The potential dealbreaker." He snorts, but she goes on. "Do you think I should do it?"

It's what he was expecting her to ask, but he wasn't sure how she'd actually say it. He'd thought she would ask if he wanted her to, or if they asked him. The difference is slight, but he feels less prepared for this. It seems more objective.

"I don't know what your other prospects look like."

"Nothing this exciting," she admits. "I've been looking for a TV gig for a while, but it's all either kind of shitty procedural roles,and a lot of stuff where I'd have to move to Vancouver."

"What's wrong with Vancouver?"

He means it as a joke, but she sighs. "My dad hasn't been doing that well lately, I don't really want to leave the country right now."

This is the weird thing about working closely with someone you dislike. Bellamy might not have gotten along with Clarke, but they were still spending a lot of time together. He knows how close she is to her dad, just like he’s sure she remembers how he took care of his sister. It’s impossible not to learn these things.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “You should definitely take this job. I think you probably should have anyway, but if you have actual reasons to stay in LA—“

“Yeah.”

“They could always move us to Canada after we shoot the pilot. But it sounds like they want to stay in LA if they can.”

“It looks like we’re mostly on sound-stages, so we could be anywhere.”

“Pretty much.” He exhales. “We probably don’t hate each other anymore.”

She doesn’t quite laugh, but she’s definitely amused. “You think?”

“Just mild, background dislike.”

“Yeah, resting hate face.”

“Exactly. I would have told them if I didn’t want them to offer you a part,” he adds. “It wasn’t my idea, but Pike gave me veto power. I think you’d be good for this.”

“Going method?”

“Tomas hates Alexander but respects her skills. I think I can probably pull that off.”

This time, she definitely laughs. “I don't know, it sounds like a stretch, but that’s why they call it acting. I assume I have to do a reading or something.”

“Probably. But Pike knows you, it’s going to be more of a formality.” He pauses. “I’d say I was looking forward to working with you, but—“

“Maybe we won't have to work together much,” she says.

“As little as possible,” he agrees. Talking to her on the phone hasn’t been bad, but it’s the phone. And it’s only a few minutes. Even at their worst, they’d been able to be civil when they had to be. It’s the prolonged contact that worries him.

But they’re both older and wiser now. They won’t be trying to be best friends, won’t have fans and tabloids asking them if the on-screen romance is going off-screen, won’t have all the stupid pressure to get along.

They’ll be coworkers, and they’ll probably be good at it. It’s honestly a little bit exciting.

He can’t help it; he’s got a good feeling about this one.

*

As much as Clarke knows the Arcturus script wasn't written specifically with her and Bellamy in mind, she has to say they might actually be the most perfect casting ever, especially if the network manages it right. Because Clarke's character, Olivia Alexander, is not immediately obvious as the big bad. In the first episode, she's actually the point-of-view character, the audience's entry into the world. She goes to Bellamy's Inspector Tomas because she was robbed within a few minutes of disembarking on the station and wants his help. She's wary of law enforcement but out of options, and the vibe of uneasy allies works really well with what the public knows of her and Bellamy's relationship. Marketing it as the two of them reuniting and learning to work together would be pretty good pre-air hype, and when at the end of the episode the audience discovers that Olivia is the criminal Alexander and not nearly as new to the station as she claimed, that will be even better.

It's a neat trick, an organic way to introduce the universe that sets up the co-leads nicely, establishing Alexander as sympathetic but ruthless and Tomas as dedicated but rigid. It's not a twist they'll be able to keep under wraps for long, but it's an exciting hook, and Clarke's genuinely excited to see how it plays out if the show gets picked up.

It's got a lot of potential, and she's honestly really excited about it. Even with the Bellamy thing.

It's not as if it's actually been ten years since they saw each other, but it's close. They've been at events together since Windriders wrapped, but they never had much trouble avoiding each other. At best, they'd nod at each other across the room and pose for a picture or two, if there were fans around.

But they're adults, now. Clarke was eighteen when filming started and twenty-two when it was done, and Bellamy is only two years older than she is. No one could have expected them to be mature about the whole thing.

At thirty-one, she should be able to do better, so when she sees Bellamy in the makeup trailer on the first day of shooting, failing to drink from an empty mug of coffee as he reads his script, she ducks out, grabs another cup, and brings it back for him.

She's going to be fucking friendly. If they're going to have problems, they'll be on him.

Or, well. He's going to start it.

"Hey," she says, holding up the mug. "It looked like you needed a refill."

Bellamy Blake has always been a lot to handle first thing in the morning. Even in the worst parts of Windriders filming, Clarke couldn't deny that a single smile from him was enough to make her knees turn to jelly. He's one of those people who feels like he needed to become an actor, because he's too attractive to be anything else. And he's definitely aged well, filling out at the shoulders, growing his hair out and letting it curl like it wants to.

He's even wearing glasses, which is new, and definitely a good look for him.

"I did, yeah," he says, voice a little rougher than usual. "Hey, Clarke."

Her seat is right next to his, and she takes it. "Hey. Any last-minute script changes I need to know about?"

"Nothing I saw, but I was checking my lines, not yours." He smiles, a little crookedly. "Honestly, I think they wrote and rewrote the pilot so many times no one is ever allowed to touch it again."

The smile is at least easy to return. "Yeah, it kind of shows. It's a great pilot, though. And we already got the series order."

"Yeah. We probably wouldn't have if you didn't sign on, so--thanks."

"I'm pretty excited too, it's not like I'm doing this pro-bono."

As soon as the words are out, they feel harsh and too defensive, even if her tone was light, and she's scrambling to figure out a nice way to follow-up when Bellamy starts laughing.

"Jesus, I can't even thank you without it turning into an argument?" he teases, and she starts laughing too.

"Maybe if you weren't thanking me for doing my job--"

"Yeah, I'm definitely the issue."

"Definitely."

He bites the corner of his mouth on his smile, rolls his eyes. "So, nothing's changed, right? Same old, same old."

Things didn't go bad right away, the first time they worked together. It took time for their styles to clash, for their cracks to start to show. She even had a crush on him for the first few weeks, her childhood weakness for cocky assholes overriding her better judgement. So she shouldn't be too encouraged that the first day is going fine; there's still plenty of time for her to start hating him again.

"Same old," she agrees."It's going to be a disaster."

*

Bellamy decided he wanted to become an actor watching Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and Babylon 5 after school, which makes Arcturus an actual dream come true. He's the lead on a sci-fi show with some real potential, one that might have real legs. It's probably not ever going to be a runaway hit, not the next Walking Dead or Game of Thrones, but he thinks they could run for a few seasons as an underrated cult classic.

It's only a little weird feeling like he owes Clarke Griffin for that.

"Not that we wouldn't be good without her," he tells Miller.

"Uh huh," says Miller. He's got a recurring role on the Disney Channel, which is decent money, but probably the worst fit for Miller's brand of all time, and also the reason they're drinking at Bellamy's place instead of at a bar. Miller has an image to maintain. "You know some of us have real problems, right? Like the fact that there's a letter-writing campaign to get us kicked off our shows?"

"That's been going for six months and no one's kicked you off yet," Bellamy points out. "The network put out a statement saying they stood by you. Did something happen or are you just jealous I'm on a better show than you are?"

"Reminding you that my life sucks," he says, in a tone that makes clear he has no interest in actually talking about it. "Before you go off on another Clarke Griffin rant. This was such a great ten years when you shut the fuck up about her."

"I didn't talk about her that much before," he grumbles.

"You were fucking obsessed."

"I basically had to spend all my time with her. You remember how it was, you were in the first movie."

"I remember that as little as possbile." Miller regards him, actually pensive for once. "So, really. How is it, working with her again?"

"Honestly? It's kind of anti-climactic."

"Yeah?"

He shrugs. "She's not my favorite person, but she's always been a professional. Once we start doing promo, it might get worse, but we only have a few scenes together most episodes right now. We've had a couple fights about character motivation," he admits. "But we all saw that coming. And I don't think either of us have hard feelings."

"And she's good?" Miller prompts. "In the role."

"She's always been good. But this is a great part for her. No one ever lets her play villains because she's cute, and she's fucking ruthless. It's kind of awesome."

“Huh.”

Bellamy flashes a scowl at him. “What?”

“I’m just trying to remember when you started hating her. You guys were never, like, buddies or anything, but I remember it got way worse once we started getting buzz. You guys don’t deal with media attention well.”

“So you think that’s when it goes wrong? Once we start appearing in public?”

“I don’t know. Kind of depends, I guess. Most of the teenage fans who wanted you guys to get married grew up too, so maybe that’ll help. Now they’ll be in their twenties and thirties and maybe more mature.”

“I’m pretty sure even the die-hard fans gave up on us getting married pretty fast,” he points out. “We weren’t giving them much to work with.”

“Nah. Belligerent sexual tension. That’s a thing. You did like her.”

“I would have fucked her, that’s different,” he says, flopping onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “I was in my fuck everything that moves phase.”

“That one was fun, I miss when you fucked everything. And you did like Clarke. Not, like—you can’t help it. You like everyone who doesn’t just roll over and let you have your way.”

“What’s your point, exactly?”

“I think you guys are going to get along this time. I’m putting it out there into the universe. I think you’re going to be friends.”

“Wow. That’s so beautiful. I’m touched.”

“Seriously. This isn’t going to blow up like the Windriders thing did. Without a huge spotlight and tons of media attention, I bet you guys are fine. And then the gossip that you’re dating will start up and you’ll start hating each other again.”

Bellamy snorts. “Okay, now it’s not beautiful anymore. Why would there be gossip that we’re dating?”

“You guys played love interests in a teen movie franchise,” says Miller, somber and wise. “Those rumors are never gonna totally die.”

“As always, you’re a ray of sunshine.”

“You’re the one who said she was saving your show."

“Not saving it. But we needed to nail that role, and she did. And, yeah, we’re getting a lot of attention because this is our reunion, and we never got along. Without her on board, we wouldn’t be nearly this exciting.”

“And this is how it’s going to be every fucking time we hang out. The Clarke Griffin show.”

“Shut up.”

“So far it's funny for me, don't worry. I'll tell you when it gets annoying again."

“Yeah, that was really my issue.” He sighs, puts his arm over his face. “I really think we could have been friends,” he admits. It’s the second time he’s said the words about Clarke; the first time, he said them to her, the night before the premiere of their final movie. They’d been drunk and weirdly nostalgic and everything had been going right. It had been so easy to see into an alternate universe where he hadn’t been so unprepared for all of the attention and how shitty the movies got toward the end, when there hadn’t been creative differences and misunderstandings and paparazzi everywhere.

He really could have liked her.

She’d patted his cheek, said, “But we’re not,” and thrown up on his shoes, and that was kind of the Windriders franchise in a nutshell: an attempt at beauty and poignancy that ended in failure and vomit.

“I also think you’re going to fuck her,” Miller says, pulling his attention back to the present. “Since you missed out last time.”

“I didn’t miss out. And we’re not going to fuck. As long as we don’t murder each other, I’m calling it a win.”

“Maybe I just still believe in true love, like all the other Windriders fans.”

“Maybe you’re an asshole.”

“No maybe about that. But you’re definitely having fun.”

That has nothing to do with Clarke, so it’s easy to smile. “Yeah. I definitely am.”

*

“How many questions do you think are going to be about us?” Clarke asks.

Bellamy makes a face, considering. This is their third Comic-Con together, but they were on a long break before. She’s hoping it’s like riding a bike, and they'll just fall back into it naturally. Ideally without any needless sniping this time.

“Most of them,” says Murphy. He’s the decoy villain in the first episode, and since they’re treating the pilot storyline as the real one for the purposes of this panel, he came along. He is in the rest of the season, obviously, Alexander's second-in-command and hired assassin, but today he is Alexander.

It’s a little bit of a headache.

“We don’t have much we can say about the new show,” Pike adds. “Half the reason I brought you was so we'd have Windriders to talk about.”

“Because that’s worked so well, historically,” says Bellamy, dry.

“By the third movie, people were just tuning in to press just to see us snipe at each other,” Clarke points out.

“That’s because the franchise went off the rails after the first one.”

“Yeah, I just kept up to see if you guys were going to kill each other,” says Murphy.

“Same,” says Indra. She plays the captain and is old enough to be Clarke’s mother, so it’s honestly a surprise she even saw any of the Windriders movies.

“So should we not be professionals here?” Clarke asks. “That was my plan. I don’t have anything to fight him about.”

“Yet,” says Bellamy. “Didn’t we start fighting basically as soon as we started getting questions last time?"

“Just because you were answering questions about my character motivation!” she protests.

“Your answer was shitty.”

“It was my character!”

“Somehow, I think the two of you might be able to find something to disagree about,” says Indra, and Clarke catches Bellamy’s eye, smiles back when he grins.

They wrapped the thirteen-episode first season a couple weeks ago, and she and Bellamy made it through without any major conflicts. The season ended on something of a cliffhanger, with Murphy’s character turning on Clarke, and she’s a little anxious about where they’ll go if they get picked up for a next season—it seems worryingly possible that she’ll end up on Bellamy's side and working with him a lot more—but she still wants the show to come back. Like Anya said, the part is great, and it’s a fun set.

It just feels like she and Bellamy are always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

They’re seated next to each other at the panel, Pike next to the moderator with Bellamy on his left and then Clarke, Indra, and Murphy. It’s a deliberate, deceptive lineup, and Clarke’s glad to have that layer of dishonesty to focus on. The last time she was on a panel like this with Bellamy, she told him she never wanted to see him again.

Even then, she didn’t mean it. But they did stop doing press together, finally.

Right on cue, he leans over. “Hey, do you want to review your motivation? Just so we’re on the same page.”

It’s clearly a joke, and she surprises herself by finding it funny. “My motivation is that I hate you.”

“Sorry, character motivation,” he corrects, and she laughs, and she can hear people snapping pictures.

“I can’t believe people still care about this,” she murmurs.

“All we have to do is not kill each other and they’ll stop caring.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

He grins. “I never said that.”

The moderator clears her throat, and the two of them disengage to face the crowd. Clarke doesn’t have much sense of how many people it is, but all the seats she can see are filled, and there's excitement in the air. They’ve got some hype.

"All right!" says the moderator. "Welcome to SyFy's first ever Arcturus panel. The show's premiering one month from today, so we're here to answer all the pre-air questions we can. And I think we all know what the first question is." She turns to them, grinning. "Bellamy, Clarke? How is it to be working together again?"

The audience whoops and cheers, and Bellamy laughs. He cocks his head at her, and she gestures for him to go ahead. "Well, uh--it's been interesting." More laughter and cheering, and he shakes his head. "Honestly, I don't have much to tell you. Clarke's a great actress and she always has been, and, uh--how do I put this delicately?"

The question is directed at her, and to her surprise, she knows exactly what he's going for. "Windriders was kind of--rocky," she says. "I think we all knew Bellamy and I had some issues with the creative direction the franchise took, even when we were trying to be--what was that word?--delicate about it."

"No one liked Maelstrom!" someone yells from the crowd, and there's scattered laughter.

"It makes a big difference being on a good set," Clarke continues. "And me and Bellamy were definitely part of why Windriders was a bad set, but it's always going to be a different vibe, being on a network TV show instead of a summer blockbuster. We spend a lot more time together, but we also spend a lot more time apart. It's less intense. And it's definitely an older set--"

"Excuse me," says Indra, and that gets another big laugh.

"It turns out casting a bunch of teenagers to fight about who's making out with whom while the world ends isn't really the best way to foster lasting friendships," Bellamy puts in. "I was the oldest actor in the main cast and it's not like I was a role model."

"You did just say whom, though," Clarke says. "So that's something."

"Yeah, I definitely would not have said that doing Windriders press."

"But you would have known you should have, and it would have hurt you."

"Yeah, definitely. Never use bad grammar to seem cool, kids."

"Life lessons from Bellamy Blake," says Clarke, and he raises his glass of water like he's toasting.

The moderator asks Pike for a quick summary of the show, and the conversation moves on to the present, away from Windriders, and that's easy. Clarke's answers are a bit of a balancing act, but it's not hard to get back in the mindset of Olivia in the pilot, instead of Alexander in the rest of the series. It's kind of fun, her own private trick she's playing on everyone, and by the end, she's feeling like whatever press they do for this might actually be good.

"That wasn't so bad, right?" Pike asks, once they're off stage. "You guys could do this."

When she glances at Bellamy, he's already looking at her, and he raises one shoulder. Something about it makes her stomach swoop, and she has to look away.

"Yeah," she says. "This is fine."

*

"You can't blame me for this one," Bellamy tells Miller, and Miller elbows him, hard.

It was Miller's idea to come to this stupid after-party, because Miller has a thing for Monty Green, who's on one of those CW superhero shows that Bellamy is actually incapable of keeping track of. He's not convinced that's the only reason Miller came to the con at all--he likes getting breaks from being Disney person, and he still has fans from the one Windriders movie he was in--but it was definitely a factor, and Bellamy figured it was his duty to come along for moral support.

It's not his fault Clarke is talking to Monty.

"I swear to god, if you get in a shouting match with Clarke Griffin and I have to stop flirting to break you guys up--"

"It won't be a problem," he says. "I'm probably not even going to talk to her."

"Sure you're not."

Monty spots Miller and waves, and Bellamy and Clarke make eye contact, so it'll be weird if he doesn't go over there, but he's planning on it being pretty quick. It's a busy party, and there are plenty of people he could talk to. He could probably even find someone to hook up with, if he wanted to.

But when Clarke says she's getting a drink after they finish small talk, he goes with her, so Miller might have to kill him.

"I can't believe Miller is Nate," she says, and he smiles.

"Yeah, most people have first and last names."

She elbows him. "That's not what I meant. Monty's been talking about this guy Nate he has a thing for, but he never told me it was Miller. That makes more sense, though. He always acted like I was supposed to know him and I just went with it."

"Wouldn't it have been easier to ask?"

"Have you met me?" she asks, and he snorts.

"Okay, yeah, never mind. You were just going to figure out how you knew him at the wedding."

"I thought it would work itself out, and it did. I win. Does Miller have a thing for him?"

"Absolutely."

"Awesome."

The conversation lags, and it feels like the time when he should make a graceful exit, but he's not going to see Clarke again for a while. They'll have promo together at some point, stuff for the network, but unless and until they get picked up for season two, he's not going to have any reason to see her.

Miller might be right; Clarke Griffin is basically a scab he can't stop picking. For some reason, she still feels like an unsolved problem.

"You have any projects for hiatus?" he asks.

"Nothing big. I'm doing a movie for Netflix, but nothing big-name or anything. Just some random rom-com. You?"

"Not yet, but I've got a couple leads. How's your dad?"

"Pretty much recovered. Enough that I'm not afraid every time I see him is going to be it." She bites the corner of her mouth. "Not to get way too serious for a Comic-Con after-party."

"Hey, I asked."

"You did. How's your sister?"

He smiles. "You know every time you don't know what to say to me, you ask about my sister, right?"

"It's called being polite."

"She's good, thanks for asking. Living in Canada with her boyfriend, hiking all the time."

"Stuff like that doesn't make you want to relocate to Vancouver?"

"She's not near Vancouver, so no. Canada's a pretty big country. And I think we do better with a few thousand miles between us."

Clarke cocks her head, her interest apparently genuine. "Really? Why?"

"I think it's growing up how we did. I was always watching her, so she feels like if I'm too close, she's not really independent. I don't get it, exactly, but--she's happy and I'm happy, so I'm not going to complain."

"As long as you're good." He snorts into his drink, and she smiles. "Seriously, I never actually wanted bad things to happen to you."

"No?"

"I can dislike people without actually wishing them ill."

"Glad I pass that bar."

"Come on, we're good, right? Now, anyway. Totally professional coworkers."

"Yeah."

They lapse into silence again, but this time Clarke is the one to break it. Which at least means she's not interested in just going their separate ways either.

"I feel like I don't know what to do at parties anymore."

"You never did," he teases. "I thought you were such a fucking buzzkill."

"Like you weren't. You hid it better, but as soon as there was even a hint of someone having an issue you sobered up and started being everyone's serious big brother."

"At least I waited until there was a problem. You would get drunk and even more paranoid."

She laughs, and he does too. "We were both kind of assholes, right? Way too full of ourselves just for getting cast in a blockbuster."

"And such a shitty one," he says, shaking his head.

"We did our best."

"I feel kind of bad about it. If we'd been worse, maybe the series would have tanked before Maelstrom."

She smiles. "Hey, we tried to kill it off-screen."

"I still can't believe I got hired for other stuff after how much I complained about that movie."

"Being right probably helped."

"I hope so."

Someone calls for people to play some game before it can get awkward again, and when Clarke cocks her head, he doesn't feel like it's weird to go with her.

They're old friends, right? Close enough to that. They can hang out for a night without destroying Miller's life.

Definitely.

*

"Fuck, I can't remember the last time I did this," Clarke says, dropping her head against Bellamy's shoulder. Even after a few hours of drinking and sweating, he smells really good, the same cologne she remembers him wearing during Windriders. It's a good memory, somehow, in spite of everything. Whenever she was close enough to him to smell him, they were usually on the same side, trying to nail a take or get through a photoshoot as quickly as possible.

His laugh rumbles in his chest, like a cat purring. "Which part?"

"Any of it. Drinking, video games, doing shots--"

"I can't believe we did shots. How are you feeling?"

"Good for now. Tomorrow's going to suck."

"No question. Ready to go? We can find a car."

"Monty's going to get laid," she says, grinning. "So I don't have to go home with him."

"He is." He sounds as pleased as she is, because he is a good guy. She always wondered, but she's sure of that now. Even if they never really get along, she's glad he's not an asshole. "I'm really glad Monty likes him, I thought he might be interested in another straight guy."

"Nope. Bi guy." She frowns. "You're bi now too, right?"

He snorts. "I was bi back then too, I just wasn't out. You weren't either."

"I wish I'd known. I would have liked you more."

"That would have just pissed me off. You acting like we should be friends just because we were both bi."

It sounds like something she'd think, and just like that the giggles are back. "I think we might have too much in common."

"Yeah?"

"Or we did. But it's better when we don't have to pretend to like each other."

"Stubborn assholes," he says. "We don't like people telling us what to do."

He doesn't quite push her into the car, but she needs some help, given the way her bones are getting all loose and unhelpful. She falls in and he climbs in next to her, prompts her to give the driver her address.

"That's not that far from me."

"No?"

"Just a few blocks, yeah."

"Do you remember you told me you thought we should be friends?" she asks. It's something she thinks about more than she should. Windriders was a mess, and it sucks that she and Bellamy came out of it as enemies, rather than allies. "Before the Maelstrom premiere."

"Yeah, I remember."

"Do you still think that?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Me too."

She falls asleep on his shoulder, feeling warm and content like she hasn't in a while, and it would be a pretty much perfect night, if it ended there.

Instead, he shakes her awake with a gentle hand. "Hey, Clarke, wake up. You're home."

She blinks awake, sees him in front of her, all soft eyes and features. He's just--very attractive, and his shoulder is warm, and she finds herself not wanting to let him go.

Kissing him isn't an accident, but it's not really on purpose either. She's doing it before she's fully thought it through, before she's thought of the implications.

It's not the first time she's kissed him, of course; they played the main couple in a teen franchise, they kissed a lot. But at the same time, it wasn't them. She's never just kissed him like this.

He doesn't let her do it for long, extricates himself with care, smile just as gentle as his hands were.

"Drink a lot of water and get some sleep," he says. "You'll feel better."

Clarke will admit it doesn't sound particularly plausible right now, but if he wants to act like she didn't kiss him and move on, it's probably for the best. She's drunk and impulsive, and he's probably not interested. No harm, no foul.

"Thanks for getting me home," she says. "See you next season?"

"Don't jinx it," he says, smile wry. "But yeah, I hope so."

*

Arcturus Is the Windriders Redemption Story We've All Been Pretending We Don't Want

Like a lot of women in my age range, Kieran Tanith was my first true fictional love, and Kierynna (a portmanteau used to refer to the relationship between Kieran and Lynna Umber, his One True Love and the protagonist of the Windriders series, for those of you who weren't all over that fandom) was what I wanted my love life to look like. And, as with most media, it was flawed, and as with most media beloved primary by teenage girls, it was disproportionately hated for those flaws. The first movie (the only one in the film series to be based on the original novels by Marcus Kane) was pretty decent, but by the third, even hardcore fans were basically only turning in for the two leads.

And, all credit to Clarke Griffin (Lynna) and Bellamy Blake (Kieran), they made it work. For two people who notorioisly did not get along, they did their best to bring together some very bad plotlines, and the romance certainly made this author swoon.

If it seems strange to start off a review of one show with a ten-year-old film franchise, you haven't seen the marketing for Arcturus. They're certainly going all-in on the reunion of Griffin and Blake, and it's not hard to see why. Lack of chemistry was never their problem, and turning their well-known personal differences into an uneasy alliance onscreen is electric. The show doesn't serve as a direct commentary on the original franchise, but it still feels like a do-over in another genre, a second chance for two actors who deserved a better vehicle.

If you haven't watched the pilot yet, you should do it now and skip the rest of this article. The first episode is more than worth going into unspoiled, and you'll thank me for it later.

Okay, are we good? Has everyone seen the pilot?

If you have, you know exactly why this is so exciting. It's been a while since a pilot tricked me as thoroughly as Arcturus did, and it's clear that everyone involved was working hard to keep this one under wraps. The reveal of Griffin as the big bad is exciting, but perhaps even more exciting is the care the show takes with setting up Alexander's perspective and her motivations. Seeing the problems on the station, and the ways in which the system prevents Tomas from completely dealing with them, gives us a nuanced perspective of a world filled with ambiguity. By the end, we know that Alexander is working outside of the law, sometimes ruthlessly so, but we also see how the law must have already let her down.

Other parts of the station are just as exciting, but the pilot absolutely belongs to Tomas and Olivia/Alexander. Later episodes put a spotlight on Indra Paxton as Captain Isabella Dormer and Eric Jackson as her second-in-command, but Blake and Griffin serve as the beating heart of the series, two people who both love their home and want to find their place in it.

Bellamy Blake isn't Kieran Tanith, and Clarke Griffin isn't Lynna Umber. And they aren't Peter Tomas and Olivia Alexander either. The episodes following the pilot take the time to flesh out the two characters, and while it's not like seeing the fandom of my childhood come back (which is probably for the best), it's hard to overstate how amazing it is to finally be witnessing something that makes me feel as alive with possibilities as the idealized version of Windriders that existed in my head did.

I can't tell you what the show looks like to someone who didn't doodle Mrs. Kieran Tanith on her notebooks in high school, obviously. I can tell you the sets look good, the acting is top notch, the characters are engaging, and I can't wait to see what happens now that Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin finally get to hate each other as much as they want.

It looks like it's going to be a wild ride.

-Maya Vie, Staff Writer
First four episodes watched for review

*

Bellamy doesn’t want to be nervous about seeing Clarke again, and he’s about ninety-percent convinced he doesn’t need to be. But there’s that nagging part of him that thinks it’s going to be awkward, that she kissed him and he spent months not mentioning it at all.

It is just a small part of him, though. She was drunk, and they’d had a nice night. If she’d been around the same level of sobriety he was, he might have even rolled with it, but it would have still been a bad idea. Maybe if they’d known the show was canceled, but—

Fucking Clarke would have been a bad idea, and he’s sure she knows that. She’s probably grateful he handled it like he did. But he’s still on edge until she sits down next to him and offers him a coffee, just like always.

“Season two, huh?”

It’s kind of stupid, how happy he is to see her. He fucking missed her, if he’s honest. He likes having her around.

“Season two. How was your hiatus?”

“Pretty good. Did the Netflix movie, binge-watched The Americans.” The pause is slight, but unmistakable, and her voice is too casual when she adds, “Got a girlfriend.”

It does actually hurt a little, against his will. Not that he was thinking anything was going to happen with them, but it feels like possibilities dying, when he wasn't even admitting he wanted them.

But he manages a smile. “Yeah? Anyone I know?”

“Lexa Hart? We did an indie a couple years ago, reconnected."

“Yeah, I've heard of her, but I don't think we've ever met." He smiles. "That’s cool, though, congrats. How are the assholes?”

“The usual. Apparently I’m really bisexual now, not just faking as a PR stunt.”

He rolls his eyes. “You should have gotten caught making out with a girl in a nightclub and had the pictures leak online. Like I did. Except, you know. Guy.”

She laughs. “You know, I tried, but somehow no one ever took pictures.”

“Lucky you.”

“At least that guy was really hot.”

“He was, yeah. And I got laid.”

“Win-win.”

If she didn’t have a girlfriend, he might be trying to think of how to bring up the kiss, but it feels even more inappropriate now, and he can’t figure out how he ever thought it might be okay. It would just be awkward, acknowledging that he’s still thinking about it, months later.

He might be a little awkward for a while, but that’s fine. He’ll live with it, and then it’ll go away.

“My sister thinks we’re going to be on the same side by the mid-season finale,” he says, as Harper starts working on his hair.

“Yeah?”

“Every review we’ve gotten is basically this show is ten times better when Tomas and Alexander are on screen together. She thinks they’d be stupid to keep us apart.”

“But that’s when we start hating each other, right? Familiarity breeds contempt.”

“That doesn't start until they write us an under-developed romance where I’m in love with you because of dream-visions.”

She stops with her coffee halfway to her mouth, and then starts laughing. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I forgot about the dream-visions.”

"Come on, that was like all I did. How could you forget?"

"Sorry your powers were weird and poorly developed."

"Yeah, me too."

"I do think they're going to put us on the same side," she admits. "Cat and mouse is only fun for so long, and we have enough new cast members that they have plenty of options for who could be a new big bad. I'm thinking some corruption in the station chain of command."

He taps his jaw. "Okay, so--three new cast members, right?"

"Yup."

"You think we can figure out which one is evil?"

Her grin is bright and sudden, and friendship seems like a good goal. It's honestly enough of a stretch for the two of them on its own; it was stupid to start thinking about anything more, even if he didn't know he was thinking about it.

Then again, in his own defense, she's the one who kissed him. It's not like he came up with this all on his own.

But she's his coworker, and they're barely friends, and she was drunk, and she has a girlfriend, so absolutely nothing is happening except the two of them having a functional working relationship.

Which is, again, still a stretch goal.

"Let's see how much of the season we can get," he says, leaning a little closer. "I think Shumway's evil."

"Yeah?"

"Just a guess. His character is too boring right now, there's got to be more going on there."

"That's the trick. We're supposed to think that, but really he's just boring, and--" She flips through the script, scanning for the new characters. "Emori's character is the new big bad. They're going back to the whole thing playing on audience assumptions with women."

"Emori, final answer?" he asks.

"Is there a test?"

"I was thinking ten bucks. Mine is on Shumway."

She grins. "Emori, definitely. Ten bucks."

He offers his hand, and she shakes. "Happy season two," he says.

"Yeah. I think it's going to be a good one."

*

Clarke would like to say that the reason she goes to Bellamy instead of Raven when she and Lexa break up is that Raven is out of town, but she's halfway to his place before it even occurs to her that it's honestly kind of weird. Granted, he's close to her, walking distance, but she does have other friends. She could have gotten a cab to Monty's, he's around. He might not be on a date.

Bellamy just seems like one of those friends who would be good, in a breakup situation. Plus he's close, and she knows his schedule. He said he'd be home today.

If he isn't, she can call Monty, or skype Raven, but it's not like Bellamy is bad, as a first choice. He's convenient, if nothing else.

She stops by the coffee shop and gets two lattes and a muffin, just to be on the safe side.

Clarke has only actually been to Bellamy's apartment once, for a game night when they were filming the first season, but it is something like an emergency contact for her, the address she thinks she can go to if there's ever something really wrong.

Knowing Bellamy, he'd probably be thrilled.

She hits the buzzer, and there's a short pause before his voice crackles over the speaker, more than a little bleary. "Yes?"

"Hey, it's Clarke."

He doesn't bother responding, but the lock on the front door clicks, and Clarke lets herself in and heads upstairs.

When he opens the door, he's wearing his pajamas, and she does feel a little bad about that. He had a brutal filming schedule this week, and he said his plan for his first day off in over a week was sitting on his couch playing video games until he melted into it.

"Hi," she says. "I brought coffee."

He snorts, steps out of the way to let her in. "Is that your only move? Bringing coffee?"

"No. I brought a muffin too."

"Awesome. To what do I owe the honor?"

She wets her lips. "Lexa and I broke up."

His demeanor changes instantly, eyes going soft and concerned, and he bustles her onto the couch. “Shit. When? What happened?”

“Last night. It wasn’t anything—just the usual Hollywood stuff, you know? Our schedules never line up right, we don’t run in the same circles—“ She sighs. “Every time, I think it’s going to be different, that we like each other enough to make it work, and every time it’s just—too hard.”

He puts his arm around her and she leans into him, letting herself soak up the comfort. Not that she’s an expert or anything, but she thinks he might be the single best hugger on the planet. He’s very warm.

“I’m sorry.”

“I kind of saw it coming. And it’s not, like—don’t get me wrong, I liked her, and I think we could have had a future. But it more feels like—“ She sighs. “Like I should have tried harder, you know? It always feels like maybe this time was my last chance, and if I let this one go, I won’t get another one.”

“But you keep having relationships,” he points out, all gentle teasing. “So that hasn’t happened yet.”

“I think if I told her I thought we shouldn’t break up, she would have changed her mind. But I didn’t.”

“Breaking up with someone shouldn’t be a mind game, Clarke. If it was supposed to be a test, that’s shitty.”

She smiles into his shoulder. “I don’t think she was doing it on purpose. I probably should have broken up with her first, but I liked her. Just—it didn’t feel like it could last.”

“You know there are people in Hollywood who have functional relationships. Not a ton,” he adds. “But it is possible. You don’t have to just give up.”

“I’m not. But can you give me a day to sit on your couch and mope? Assuming it’s okay for me to stay on your couch,” she adds. “I know I didn’t call ahead or anything. If you’ve got plans—“

He snorts. “Do I look like I have plans? All I’m going to do today is sit on the couch and play Skyrim.”

“Which is?”

“Video game. I’m mostly just running around killing stuff, you’ll pick it up.”

“I don’t have to stay. Seriously.”

“I seriously don’t mind. You know you’re always welcome.”

“I was so wrong about you, you know that?”

He’s repositioned so he can play his game and still have his arm around her, which she appreciates. As far as she’s concerned, there’s never enough cuddling in her life. “When? Back when we were doing Windriders?”

“Yeah.”

“I always thought you were pretty much right about me. We didn’t get along, but it was honest.”

“I didn’t know you were like this.”

“Like what?”

“The kind of guy I could count on.”

He pauses, like he’s considering it. “Yeah, I tried not to really project that one.”

“Yeah, but I still should have known.”

“You think you should know everything,” he teases. “That’s not an actual personal failing.”

But Clarke’s distracted. “Do you remember my friend Raven?”

“The one I slept with and you yelled at me?”

“Yeah. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“We were two consenting adults, yeah.”

“She was at that party blowing off steam because her boyfriend had been cheating on her with me. And I thought she’d jumped into bed with another Hollywood asshole. I thought that’s the kind of guy you were. That was unfair.”

“I slept around a lot more back then,” he admits. “It can be hard to tell if someone’s being an asshole about that. I don’t think I was.”

“Yeah. You’re a really good guy.”

“I’m going to let you stay on my couch no matter what, you don’t have to suck up.” But he pauses, kisses her hair. “I’m a better guy now than I was when you hated me. And you’re less of a spoiled brat. That’s why we’re friends.”

“And why I can stay on your couch.”

“For as long as you want, yeah. I’ll even get a pizza. With up to two toppings."

All she can do is smile; she definitely came to the right place.

*

In the mid-season finale, Murphy betrays Clarke.

Or, rather, Stein betrays Alexander; this is all fictional. But although Bellamy is pretty sure that corruption within the station chain-of-command is still going to be a plot point by the end of the season, the mid-season shows Alexander ousted from power, her trick of using Stein as her stand-in having allowed him to leverage influence with her contacts and cut her out of her own game. She hasn’t gone to Tomas for help yet, but it’s only a matter of time. It's not what he was expecting, but he is excited.

Clarke is a little more torn. “I know it's not going to last forever, but I'm already having visions of people tweeting at me about how disappointed they are that a strong female character was undermined by a guy."

He can't help a smile. “You can’t live your life in fear of what twitter will say, Clarke. It's about ten percent valid feedback and ninety percent incoherent yelling.”

“That hashtag about how the show is too straight wasn't wrong."

“A stopped clock is right twice a day.”

“Only if it doesn’t display am/pm.”

“Jesus Christ, you’ll actually argue with anything.”

“I will,” she agrees, cheerful, and puts her feet up on the table in his trailer.

It feels bad to say they’ve gotten a lot closer since she and her girlfriend broke up, but only because it implies a causal relationship that doesn’t exist. He and Clarke aren’t close because of the breakup, but it served as a strange kind of icebreaker. They like spending time together; they can hang out.

It’s honestly a lot to take in.

“I’m just saying, I don't want this to be about how Alexander loses power and needs Tomas to bail her out. I don't think the writers would do it long term, but even for just a week, my mentions would be a disaster.

"Yeah, I know." He puts his arm around her and gives her a quick squeeze. "I'm sorry."

"If we're lucky, everyone will be excited enough that we’re going to work together that they don’t get upset.”

“Wow, that’s realistic.”

“Or we could focus on getting the writers to give Tomas a boyfriend to distract everyone.”

He snorts. “Yeah, no. They’re definitely writing Emori as my love interest.”

“It’s the future. Give Tomas a girlfriend and a boyfriend. Ethical polyamory. That would be awesome.”

“Yeah, it would, but they're never going to do it.” He tries not to, but he can’t resist adding, “Do you think they’re going to make us romantic?”

“I don’t know. Speaking of Twitter, I’ve seen as many people saying that it would be a betrayal of everything the show stands for if they do hook us up as I have saying the same thing about not hooking us up."

“Guess it depends on what the show stands for. I kind of want them to.”

She does look surprised at that. “Really?”

“I want to show we can do a romance right. You and me. This feels kind of like our redemption.”

“The Windriders do-over?”

“As stupid as that is, yeah.” He’s about to make a joke, something about how if she never wants to kiss him again, he gets it, but the words stick in his throat.

They’ve never mentioned that kiss from last summer, but he still wonders about it sometimes. For all he tells himself he absolutely should not, he can't keep his mind from wandering there sometimes. No part of his life would be better if he'd actually hooked up with her, and he'd be an asshole, but if he'd just kissed her back before she pulled away, maybe it would have made a difference.

Maybe he's an idiot.

"I get that," Clarke says. "It does feel like a second chance, kind of. Like we can do it right this time. And that does feel like something we have to fix."

"Making sure our friendship can survive another fake romance?" he teases.

"We'll never know unless we try."

"I guess not." He taps his script. "You know, no one won our bet. Shumway and Emori's characters are still good."

"For now. I think we just have to shift to the season endgame. We jumped the gun."

"Yeah, we have to be leading to something bigger for Tomas. He's been too comfortable. I still think him having to turn against the station command makes the most sense."

Clarke shifts closer, leaning against his side. That's something else they've been doing more since her breakup, casual affection, and he likes it, but he really does need to get his stupid feelings under control. This isn't a big deal. This is just what friendship with Clarke Griffin looks like. And he's good with it.

"I guess my question is how deep the corruption goes. I can't really see Captain Dormer going evil, but the story would need some stakes."

"It could be a kind of trust-no-one situation. Corruption is somewhere, but Tomas doesn't know where. Alexander's got connections still, and we know she's worried about Stein going too far. I could see her and Tomas working together for a new world order on the station."

"That would be awesome," he admits. "We know Tomas's loyalty is more to the station than to the military, and Dormer is an outsider who was assigned here, so there could be some conflict with new regulations that she sees as a duty and he sees as injustice."

"Now I'm going to be disappointed if this doesn't happen."

"It makes sense. You've got Shumway setting up pretty minor but creepy changes, that's probably paving the way for something big and bad. Like Nightwatch inBabylon 5, but actually subtle."

"You know no one understands your references but you, right?"

"Maybe if you ever watched classic sci-fi--"

She elbows him."Sorry I don't do homework to be on TV shows."

"You should be." He clucks his tongue, settling a little closer to her. If she wants to cuddle, he's going to take full advantage. "If we agree on what we think is going to happen, we can't make a bet."

"Do you think our characters are going to get together or not?"

"That's what we're betting on?"

"Why not? At least that way, one of us will definitely win. Either we make out, or we don't."

He has to smile. "So, we don't have to be endgame, we just have to hook up?"

"If we hook up, we can always revisit the bet."

"Okay, so--ten dollars on us making out," he says.

"Works for me. That means if I don't make out with you, I still get ten bucks."

It's not like it's uncommon for them to play fast and loose with distinguishing between themselves and their characters--they do it all the time. It doesn't mean anything, and he's going to sort out this stupid crush soon.

It still makes his heart race, just a little.

"And if I have to make out with you, at least I get ten bucks."

"Win-win," she says, laughing, and Bellamy has to admit, it really does feel that way.

*

"So, you finally develop a thing for Bellamy Blake?" Raven asks.

Clarke frowns. "What makes you say that?"

"You're texting him like you're twelve with your first crush."

"He's visiting his sister," she protests. "It's stressful for him. We're friends."

"You can have a thing for friends. I feel like most people do." She takes a drink of cider. "I'm not saying it would be a bad thing. I always thought you would hate him less if you just fucked him once. The sexual tension didn't help anything."

Clarke's phone buzzes, Bellamy saying, oh fuck, she actually has three dogs??? how did she not tell me about THREE DOGS, and she has to bite back on her smile. Just so it won't encourage Raven.

"I really didn't want to sleep with him the first time. Not for more than--" She pauses. "Okay, he was hot, I totally would have for a while."

"And you want to sleep with him this time."

Clarke worries her lip, the kneejerk denial at war with her desire to just talk about it. And Raven brought it up, won't buy it if she denies it, so she just sighs and slumps forward.

"He's still hot, okay?"

Raven rubs her back consolingly. "He might be hotter, yeah."

"I know it's stupid."

"Who said that? I'm taken, but I get it."

"He's my coworker," she says. "I still feel like I'm jinxing it to even say we're friends. I kissed him and he--"

"Wait, what? When?"

She bites her lip, turning so she can face Raven. "It was stupid. I was drunk, I didn't even mean to do it." Raven just makes a go on gesture, and she sighs. "Comic-con, last summer. It wasn't a big deal. But I kissed him, and he just told me to drink some water and get some sleep."

"You were drunk, that sounds like good advice. It doesn't mean he's not interested."

"He never mentioned it again," she says, and bites back on all the justifications she's come up with for that. They didn't see each other for months after that kiss, and the next time they did, she had a girlfriend. Even if Bellamy had wanted to bring it up, it would have been weird to do it then. By the time she and Lexa broke up, it had been almost six months since the kiss.

But it's not as if Raven needs that much information to call bullshit. "Did you? It's awkward, maybe he didn't want to make you feel weird."

"I know. I know! But we still work together. It's weird even without that."

"I thought that about me and Gina," Raven says, "but then I figured something out."

"Gina's really cute and really into you and works in craft services, which doesn't have much crossover with tech?"

"It was already awkward," Raven says, ignoring her. "Look, if I was in total control of my emotions, I'd never have feelings for anyone I worked with. It's not a great idea. But when you work as much as we do, it's pretty hard to avoid. Everyone you know is already in the industry. And once you've got the feelings, it's kind of too late. The awkward's there, you just have to figure out what to do with it."

Her phone buzzes again, a picture, and when she opens it up it's Bellamy with two giant dogs on top of him, laughing. His sister or her boyfriend must have taken it, which means he decided to pose covered in dogs just so he could send the picture.

She texts Where's the third dog? and then saves the picture. And then shows it to Raven. Friends don't let friends miss out on pictures of hot guys with dogs.

"You really like him, huh?" Raven asks, voice soft. "Like, a lot."

"It's so stupid, right? I spent four years seeing stupid headlines about real-life sparks flying between us, even after everyone knew we didn't get along, and it pissed me off, and now I'm--"

"Hey, I still thought I was straight and going to marry Finn back then. Shit changes. It can change for the better too."

The third dog is humping the couch, it's awkward. Apparently that's his thing.

Clarke bites the corner of her mouth, smiling at the text. "I don't even know what I'd say."

"When are you going to see him again?"

"He'll be back from Canada in a couple weeks. I guess we'll hang out? We didn't during the last hiatus, but we're friends now, so--"

"So tell him you kissed him, what, a year ago? Something like that?"

"Around that, yeah."

"Okay, last year, you kissed him, and you know you guys never talked about it, but you weren't just drunk and you think he should know that."

"Wow, that's really mature and definitely nothing I'm ever going to say to him."

"So, what, you're just going to pine away? That sounds like a waste."

"I'll say something," she says, mostly in the hopes that putting the words into the universe will actually make it happen. In her most honest moments, she thinks it might go well. She and Bellamy are close now, real friends, and she doesn't have the usual dating worries with him. Maybe she should, but now that they're actually trying to keep in touch during hiatuses, she's found it's not hard to do it, not like it usually is.

She misses him, of course, but that's a good sign too. Given how much they see of each other, it's encouraging that she still wants more.

"You better. Everyone keeps calling this a second chance, right? Might as well go all the way."

"Seriously, I did not want to date him the first time. We're lucky I didn't kill him."

"And now you like him. Tell him, get married, sell the rights to Lifetime. Happily ever after."

"I'd keep the rights," she says. "But the rest of it sounds okay."

Raven puts her arm around her shoulders, squeezing gently. "Honestly, I just wanted you to admit you wanted to bone him. I wasn't expecting all the fucking feelings."

"Neither was I," says Clarke. "They just kind of happened."

"At least he doesn't hate you anymore."

It actually is a comfort. "Yeah, at least there's that."

*

Since Clarke has showed up on Bellamy’s doorstep in times of crisis, he figures he’s allowed to do the same thing. Fair is fair, after all. He’s allowed to take a taxi directly to her apartment and collapse on her couch demanding affection.

The strangest part of the whole thing is that he actually believes it. He’s not worried about this in the least.

Still, he calls her when he’s a few blocks away, just so he can tell the driver to take him home if she’s not around.

She picks up immediately. “Hey, what’s up? Did you land? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Can I come over?”

“Sure.”

“Cool, I already gave the taxi your address.”

She laughs. “You could have just told me you were coming when you landed. You missed me?”

“Desperately,” he says, like it’s a joke.

“Do you need alcohol?”

He might love her. “You don’t have to have a drink waiting for me, Clarke.”

“I could. It wouldn’t be hard. You know I have booze.”

“I’m fine. If I need booze, I’ll get it myself. Your cocktails are always like eighty percent alcohol.”

“They’re supposed to get you drunk! That’s their job!”

"I know you think that," he says. He can actually feel the tension draining from his body just talking to her. "See you in a few minutes.”

“You really did come right from the airport,” she says, when she opens the door.

“My sister got engaged. Like a month ago. I'm kind of freaking out.”

Clarke frowns. “And she didn’t tell you? You just showed up and she said she was engaged with three dogs?”

"She said she wanted to tell me in person. Since I was coming."

"How'd that go over?"

"For us? Pretty well. I told her I wish she'd told me when it happened, she got kind of huffy about it, we tried to share our perspectives like adults."

"And then the screaming started?"

He rubs his face. "Not quite screaming, but yeah. I think she thought I was going to disapprove."

"Of the engagement or the dogs?"

"All of it. I wasn't great when she told me she was dropping out of college to move in with a guy closer to my age than hers, so she still thinks any life decisions she makes based on that are going to be suspect."

"To be fair to you, dropping out of college to move in with a much older guy wouldn't have worked out for everyone."

"Yeah, and I was a dick about it. But Lincoln's good for her, and I'm glad they're happy." He sighs. "We still managed to have a fight about the thing she was waiting to tell me in person so we wouldn't have a fight about it."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Clarke says, gentle. "Or, if you did it was--what, five years ago?"

"More like eight, but yeah. It sucks to feel like she still doesn't trust me to not be an asshole."

"I learned, why can't she?"

He does laugh at that. "Yeah, if you ever want to give her a testimonial about how I've grown as a person, that would be great."

"You're thirty-five, I sort of figured she knew you'd grown up."

"Me too."

"So, you definitely need booze, right?"

"I've been on a plane for hours, I'm exhausted, and I'm jetlagged. If I start drinking, I'm going to pass out."

"I don't mind. I have a guest room and a couch. And a floor. You've got options."

"I'm way too old to get drunk and pass out on your floor."

"There's still a bed." Her smile is soft. "Stay. I really did miss you. And it sounds like you could use a drink and some mindless TV."

"That's your answer to everything."

"You came to me, you knew what you were getting."

"I did. I'm not interrupting any plans, am I?"

The pause is long enough it's clear that he is, and he groans.

"Nothing important!" Clarke protests.

"I can go home."

"Seriously, I was just going to hang out with Raven. Her girlfriend's out of town, but I think she was kind of expecting me to cancel on her."

"Why?"

She rolls her eyes. "Because I told her you were coming back tonight and she figured we might want to hang out. She'll just play Overwatch and text me complaints about how something called Mercy got something called nerfed, and I'll send her back random gifs. It's basically what we'd do if I was there."

"You didn't have to cancel."

"Shut up and let me make you a drink, okay?"

"If you insist." He offers her a smile. "Seriously, thanks for letting me destroy your evening."

"You didn't destroy anything. Are you okay? Do you need anything else?"

"I'm good," he says, and means it. "This was all I wanted."

*

When Clarke wakes up, Bellamy is already in her kitchen, apparently somehow turning the contents of her fridge into an actual meal. It smells good; she doesn't even know what exists in her apartment that could become good food.

"What are you making?" she asks, and he startles a little, smiles.

"French toast. I can't believe your eggs are still good. Or that you had eggs.”

“Me and Wells made cookies a couple weeks ago.” She leans against the counter next to him. “How can you tell If eggs are good?”

“If they float in water, they’re bad.”

“Really?”

“According to the Internet, anyway.”

“Did I have everything else for French toast?”

“It’s like four ingredients, so yeah.” He pauses. “I had maple syrup with me.”

“Seriously?”

“My mom was from Vermont. She didn’t care about brand name anything, but god forbid if we ever had anything other than pure maple syrup.”

“So you have it on you at all times?”

“I was visiting my sister in Canada. I basically have an entire suitcase full of maple products.”

“How many different maple products are there?”

“I’ll show you after I finish making breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to cook.”

“I like cooking. And I owe you for letting me crash.”

“You don’t, actually,” she says, nudging his leg with her foot. “We’re friends, remember? Friends hang out."

He turns his attention away from the cooking bread to cock his head at her. “You still get paranoid about that?”

“About what?”

“Something going wrong.”

She smiles. “I like you a lot more now than I ever did back then. And I know you better, too. I’m not going to get the wrong idea.”

“Just the right one.”

“I think I’ve got that. I do think about it sometimes,” she admits. “Us having some shitty argument. But I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

“Even if we jump the shark next season? Third seasons can be rocky, and that was when it started going wrong before. When the series took off and the movies went downhill."

“I think we’ll be on the same side this time. We should have the first time,” she admits. “But even though our characters were supposed to be so great for each other, it felt like whenever they were together, one of us got the shaft.”

“I was pretty bitter about how much screentime you got. I figured it was just because your mom was famous.”

“That’s definitely why I got the part,” she grants, and he smiles.

“You were the name. I still think that idea is pretty much bullshit, but I get it now. Back then I took it personally.”

“I thought you might be kind of a misogynist douchebag,” she admits. “Which, honestly, I think about most guys. And statistically speaking, I’m usually right.”

"He flips the French toast off the skillet and onto a plate, offers it to her. “There’s butter and syrup by the coffee pot. And, yeah, I don’t blame you. I could have been clearer about hating you for being rich, not for being a girl.”

“I wouldn’t have loved that either, if I knew. I really wanted to believe I got that part on my own. But we both agree I earned this one, so we should be good, right?”

“Clearly.”

She lets him do the toppings for her toast, since he’s the expert, and they take it to the couch to eat. She turns on the TV and checks the guide, nearly falls over laughing when she sees Windriders: Maelstrom playing on TNT.

“We have to, right?” she asks him, and he shakes his head.

“Yeah, that’s probably a rule.”

It’s about two thirds done, and Lyssa is finally back from whatever weird quest she was on, and she and Kieran are about to reunite. It's simultaneously the best and worst time for them to tune in, since it's the first time in they're together in this movie, but they're also definitely about to start kissing.

“Jesus, I forgot how bad my hair was,” Bellamy mutters.

“Every time I had to watch them iron out all your curls part of me died.” He cocks his head, confused, and she flushes. “I hated you, I still thought you were hot. I like your hair curly. Even if it was short enough it was more just waves then.”

His hair a mess right now, and he runs his hand through it reflexively. He's always a little scruffier on hiatus, long and a little wild, and he's got a few days of scruff now too and his glasses on. He looks so warm and comfortable on her couch that she aches with it.

"I still get people asking me to sign pictures of Kieran and I'm like--I've got better headshots, let me give you one. No charge."

"It meant a lot to people," she says. "I get it."

"Yeah." His eyes flick to her. "It would have been so different if we actually got along. It probably would have been fun. Look at what they've got us doing now."

"I'd rather have you now than then," she says, without thinking.

"Yeah?"

He sounds surprised, and she shifts. "It would suck a lot more if we hated each other on Arcturus. We're together a lot more."

"But the show's better, so I don't need as much emotional support."

"I can try to start hating you if you want."

He laughs. "Yeah, no, not--it just feels stupid, sometimes. I know we're not the same people we were back then, but it feels like I should have been able to figure out how much I'd like you."

Clarke feels her stomach flip and she looks back at the TV to distract herself, but it's no improvement. They're on the reunion now, herself and Bellamy staring at each other, ten years younger, odd alternate versions of themselves. They are better than the material, and she understands why people liked them together, why they were so sure there must be more to the story than just off-screen loathing.

In a way, she guesses they were right. The story's still going.

"I get that, yeah."

Lyssa throws herself into Kieran's arms, and he wraps her up, holding tight for a long moment before he pulls back to look at her, all wonder.

"That's why," she finds herself saying.

"What?"

"That's why people still bring you pictures of Kieran to sign. Because all they want is for you to look at them like that."

He ducks his head, laughing softly, and Clarke realizes suddenly that she's going to do this. They have two more weeks of hiatus, and if she tells him now, and he turns her down, they'll have time to recover separately, to figure things out before they have to work together.

This is it.

"I guess Tomas doesn't get a lot of tender looks," he admits. "Even with Ana, he's pretty closed off. Maybe once they hook us up, it'll be different."

"I doubt it. Alexander's not the type either." On the TV, Lyssa pulls Kieran down for a kiss, something quick and sharp, because they have other things to do, and Clarke remembers it clearly. She's pretty sure the director made them do two more takes than they needed, just because he thought it was funny. "But I hope I get to do that again," she makes herself say, and ignores the wild pounding of her heart. It feels like she should be too old to be nervous about this, but it never gets easier.

"Too many takes of kissing me?" he asks, like he's remembering too.

She shakes her head. "Just kissing you. I want to do that again."

He doesn't freeze so much as still, his body not tensing, but also not moving, as if he's trying not to scare her away. When he licks his lips, it looks deliberate, and he meets her eyes with a care that feels fathomless. "You did," he says. "Kiss me again. Last year."

"Yeah. I still want to do it more."

"Oh." For another second, he's still, and then he takes her plate and his own and sets them aside, moves in slowly enough she could stop him, but she slides her hand behind his neck instead, and then he's kissing her.

He's slow, when there are no cameras and everyone is sober, deliberate. When he's kissing her because he wants to, he takes his time, in no rush to get past kissing, for all some corner of Clarke's brain is already wondering when she can tug his shirt off and drag him to the bedroom.

It's not like she has to get laid today, but she wouldn't mind.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes are impossibly soft, and his glasses are crooked, and there's a smile growing on his face as he takes her in.

"You owe me ten bucks," is what he says.

Her laugh startles her, as much a bubble of relief as an expression of amusement. "What?"

He kisses her jaw. "You bet me ten bucks we weren't going to make out. You never said our characters."

"Oh my god, if you're just doing this to get ten bucks--" she teases, with no heat.

"I don't need ten bucks that much." He pulls back again, mouth crooked on his smile. "If you hadn't had a girlfriend, I would have asked you out as soon as we got back from hiatus."

The timing had been coincidental, Clarke and Lexa reconnecting independently from any of her concerns about the Comic-Con kiss, and she'd never been sure how it looked to him. But she probably would have taken it as a firm not interested. "You can ask me out now," she says.

He leans back in, this kiss shorter, but deeper, leaving her chasing his mouth when he pulls away again. "Or we could stay in," he says, eyes roving over her.

Clarke lies back, pulling him on top of him, a warm, solid weight that she could really get used to. "Yeah. Or we could do that."

*

"Do you want my list of things I'm worried about?"

Bellamy glances away from the mirror where he's trying to arrange his hair. "What?"

"I made a list, do you want to hear it?"

It's their first public appearance since they started dating, and he is nervous, but he's excited too. Talking about Arcturus is fun, meeting fans is fun, and he and Clarke make a good team. He's not planning to share that they're together, but that's mostly because he's not expecting anyone to ask. The only reason he cares about keeping it private at all is that he remembers when they were filming Windriders and people were coming up with conspiracy theories about how he and Clarke were secretly together and their public animosity was just a front. There was a level of investment there he found alarming, and he assumes it's the kind of thing that lays dormant rather than dying. He doesn't want to be the one to bring it back.

"How long is the list?" he asks her.

"Not actually that long."

"Really?"

"I don't think conventions are actually minefields. But I thought you might be worried."

"So, this is actually a list of things you thought I might be worried about so you can tell me not to?" he says, stupidly fond. They've only been going out for a few months, but he feels surprisingly confident about the whole thing. It's less how much he likes her--although he does have trouble remembering the last time he liked someone he was dating this much--and more how easy it is to talk to her. Passion's great, and he's absolutely gone for her, but that doesn't always last. He might not always want her as much as he does, but he thinks they're always going to be allies, a united front.

It's nothing he ever expected to think about Clarke Griffin, and he's never been happier to be wrong.

"I was nervous. It feels different, right?"

"You think you're going to be overcome with lust and jump me on stage?"

"It is really hot when you talk about plot and character motivation."

He tugs her down into his lap, brushes his mouth against hers. "Don't stress. I'm not. No one's going to bother asking if we're going out, they all know we're not. We have a good working relationship."

"Is that what we're calling it?" she teases.

"Sorry, do we not? I think season three's going great. Totally professional."

That's also true; they told the rest of the cast and crew and checked in to make sure they didn't have HR stuff to do, but aside from sharing cars either to or from work a few times a week, they try not to let their relationship get on set too much. The public parts of set, at least; they still make out in their trailers sometimes, but he figures that's fine. Even before they were dating, Clarke liked hanging out in his trailer. Half of the set probably thought they were having sex months before they actually started.

"It is. I'm mostly worried I'm going to accidentally give away some spoilers."

"That was number two on my list."

"How many things were there?"

"Just three."

"What are the other two?"

"First is that some reporter will ask about Windriders and we'll get in an argument about something we don't care about anymore and break up."

"Is it weird that I'm less worried about that now that we're dating? I know you like me."

"So when we break up, it'll be a total surprise."

He laughs. "Exactly. What's the last one?"

"I give a really good answer to a question and you tell me you love me on stage and cause a riot."

"Shit," he says, feeling the blood draining from his face. "I didn't even think of that."

She laughs. "The plot-and-character-motivation thing wasn't actually a joke. I know we're both into that."

"There are probably worse ways we could announce that we're together."

"Accidentally, on a panel at a random con, because you're so into my opinions on flexible morality? That sounds about right, yeah."

He kisses her again and then pushes her off him, gently; they have a pretty full day ahead of them, and they do need to get going. "So you aren't going to break up with me if I do that."

"I'll live, yeah."

Their schedules are pretty similar, between autographs, interviews, and panels, and it's basically second-nature at this point. He didn't go to as many cons before Arcturus, less because he didn't have offers and more because he didn't want to go for Windriders, and it's both fun and a little surreal to get back into it. But they've got a good lineup for the panels--him, Clarke, Emori, and Monroe--and the audience is good, and it's hard to feel stressed out at all.

It's the last question on their last panel when a girl says, "This is a question for Bellamy and Clarke. I know you two don't love talking about Windriders, but I just wanted to ask--it seems like you're pretty good friends now. Is there anything you would tell past selves about working together, if you could?"

It's an angle no one's ever taken before, and he looks to Clarke automatically, regarding her as they both think over their answers.

"I do think about that a lot, actually," she says, leaning forward to speak into her mic. "It's hard not to feel like we could have done better before, because he's a really great guy and we are good friends now. But I don't know if we could have been back then."

"Yeah, Clarke was a real diva on Windriders," he says, and she laughs.

"It's kind of like going to your high-school reunion, maybe?"

"Says the person on the stage who never even went to high school."

"That's why I said maybe! But it is. You go and have a great time talking to someone you didn't like much, and you wonder why you weren't friends before. But the reason is that you were different people then. We weren't good friends before, but we are now. So I'd probably just tell myself that he's actually a good guy and the whole shallow douchebag thing was a front--"

"Hey," he says, not even managing to feign real outrage.

"Sorry, are you offended that I'm saying you weren't really a shallow douchebag? Do you want to be a shallow douchebag?"

"I was just going to tell you to watch your language. There might be kids here."

She rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to the crowd. "Anyway, I don't think I could have fixed it or anything. We didn't have some wacky misunderstanding we have to sort out. We just didn't get along, and now we do. Bellamy?"

"I think if I had a message for myself, it probably wouldn't be specifically about Clarke. I thought Windriders was my big break--which it was--so I was really worried that if everything didn't go perfectly, I'd never have a career. So I'd tell myself that I would come out of the whole thing looking fine, and I could relax." He pauses. "And I probably would have looked even better if I didn't have a public feud with my co-star, so maybe I'd say that too. And then we would have both been more fun to work with."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure we took Windriders way too seriously."

"We really did." He pauses, but--he is an actor. He's supposed to have a flare for the dramatic. And Clarke isn't actually going to mind. "And I guess I'd tell myself that Clarke and I were going to be dating in ten years," he says, with a careful, mock-pensive tone. "Just to mess with him."

There's the kind of silence that suggests a lot of noise is coming as soon as everyone is on the same page, and the crowd doesn't disappoint. Emori rolls her eyes and Monroe groans, but Clarke just shakes her head.

"You did that on purpose."

"You made it sound so appealing."

The moderator manages to regain enough control of the room to thank them and end the panel, and they all bow and smile and wave.

Clarke takes his hand as they leave the stage, deliberate, and he's sure he's about to be tagged in ten billion over-excited twitter posts, but it's very hard to care.

He just squeezes her fingers and smiles.

*

Top Five Reasons to Binge Arcturus Before Season Four Starts
Maya Vie, Staff Writer

5. Roan Isley is joining the cast as the new big bad
A great actor AND a walking shirtless scene? Sign us up.

4. Captain Isabella Dormer (Indra Paxton) is SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS
If you've seen the show, you know the very exciting thing that happens with Captain Dormer at the end of season three. If you don't, you should still know that Paxton is one of the best actors around, and she's doing career-best work as Dormer.

3. Aliens???
There aren't any aliens in the first three seasons, so don't get too excited, but if you've been holding off on watching because you like aliens in your sci-fi, we've had some hints that first contact is coming soon. You don't want to miss it.

2. Spin-off in the works
I know these aren't always exciting, but trader/off-and-on love interest Ana Chen (Emori Martin) is getting her own show. It'll focus on her trips throughout the galaxy, which should open up the world, and you'll want to fall in love with her before the new show launches.

1. #talexander is rising
Okay, it might not be, but with Ana on her new show and the relationship between Inspector Peter Tomas (Bellamy Blake) and civilian Olivia Alexander (Clarke Griffin) more intriguing than ever, it totally could be. These two have been the show’s biggest draw from the beginning, and they just keep getting better. Plus, Blake and Griffin just announced their real-life engagement, so you can consider catching up on the show an early wedding present to them. You won’t regret it.