Chapter Text
“I need a favor.”
Clarke looks up from the glass she’s cleaning to lock eyes with Bellamy who was towering over her like always. Her freshly trimmed eyebrows crease in confusion because the voice he uses is quiet and hesitant and it’s just so unlike Bellamy. Also asking favors wasn’t really his style – though he did get her to play ‘wing man’ more times than she’d like to admit. A little over a year ago Clarke had applied as a waitress at ‘The Ark’ which was a well-known bar in town. When she was hired she was instantly introduced to a fellow worker, Bellamy. He had been wearing a tight white V-neck that made his bronze skin look even darker, she had thought it was just a tan at the time but several months later, his skin was still the same. Kane, their manager, had been the one to acquaint them. When Bellamy noticed her, he immediately put on a charming smile that she’d seen so veryoften directed at random girls who entered the bar.
At first Clarke didn’t particularly like Bellamy – in fact she might have actually hated him. She just hated guys like that in general. And by ‘that’ she means the ones who are obviously self-absorbed, think they can get anything or anyone they want with so much as a coy smirk, and seemed to be so indifferent when it came to anyone else. For Bellamy, he primarily looked at her as a challenge. The way she rolled her animated blue eyes or scowled at him whenever he used one of his ‘lines’ on her, made her all the more irresistible. Though that changed quickly when one night he had been flirting with a few girls who were exiting The Ark, when he closed the door behind him and made a quip about ‘finally being alone’ and how he wanted to take her home when she blew up on him.
She had given him the shouting of a lifetime, calling him all the names he’d already been familiar with. Pig, asshole, pervert, etc. Clarke even ended up jabbing him in the chest with her finger multiple times to get her point across. He was a mix of irritated and amused; he had to admit that he was very surprised at her boldness. He’d never been told off like he had been in that moment – from a petite blonde that had to be at least five years younger. She had stormed out after that and the next day, he had deliberately made the same remarks he used on his wannabe groupies on her but quickly claimed to be only joking – that had ended badly too. The two of them yelling at each other, her purposely knocking over drinks when she set them on the bar so he’d have to clean it up, Bellamy giving her the wrong orders so she’d receive absolutely no tips and some bellowing from the customers. That had gone on for days until Kane had ordered them to stop being so
“damn immature”.
That’s when he had gotten the idea to make both Clarke and Bellamy bar managers. They had been shocked – how was that supposed to help? If anything, they thought, it would only make their fighting worse but oddly enough it didn’t. Clarke wanted to keep her job; it was actually not as bad as she figured it would be (besides her matches with Bellamy). In fact on most nights she would actually be having fun which if you knew Clarke, fun wasn’t in her usual vocabulary and for Bellamy, he had this job since they day he turned eighteen and he knew if he kept up this charade he’d be fired. So they made a truce and after a few days of trying to not even make eye contact with each other, they slowly got to a point where they were actually almost…friends?
He’d help her in the beginning, showing her the tricks he mastered through the years of being able to make three separate drinks in a matter of thirty seconds. Once again Bellamy was impressed at how easily she picked it up. It only took her a few weeks and maybe he was just mildly jealous. The first time she played ‘love maker’ as she liked to put it because it made him crinkle his nose in disgust, it was four months after their truce. He had been lucking out with a red head sitting with her two friends who kept giggling at his attempts to get her attention. She’d made a deal with him that if she was able to get him her number he had to be on clean up duty that night.
It was easy of course, she was a girl and she knew what girls liked. When she returned to him only five minutes later with a slip of a paper with Rachel’s number on it, his eyes widened in astonishment. Rachel shot him a wink on her way out and he whispered, “You are incredible,” into her ear before going to put her number into his phone. A week later she asked about her and he just shrugged his shoulders and mumbled, “It didn’t work out.” Not that she was surprised in the least.
Now though, she knew this wasn’t a typical favor. For the first time she witnessed Bellamy Blake looking nervous.
“What?” she questioned, “Need help hiding a dead body?”
He cracks a smile at that, “No and if I did, you wouldn’t be the one I’d ask to help.”
Clarke looks offended which makes him chuckle. The laugh that she secretly adores because of the way he bows his head and then shakes it.
“And why not?” she places the cup behind her onto the bar and crosses her arms over her chest.
“Because you’re you,” he answers simply. “You’re a goody good.”
Her mouth went agape as she grabbed the towel that was over his shoulder and used it to slap his arm, “I am not a goody good!”
He rubbed his now irritated red skin with an amused smirk, “Whatever, princess.”
(That nickname. Yeah, that never left.) She used to reprimand him for it at first but she stopped fairly recently because he no longer used that condescending voice but now it actually seemed like a term of endearment.
“So what is it?” she asked.
Bellamy’s lips pursed and his hand went to rub the back of his neck, “I need you to come upstate with me for Christmas.”
Her eyes widen at the request and her head tilts to the side, “Excuse me?”
He looks over his shoulder as if for an out but unfortunately for him there was none. They had closed down ten minutes before and they were finishing up with cleaning the bar before heading home themselves.
“Okay, just hear me out,” he raises his hands in front of him as if she was about to attack. “Every Christmas my sister and her boyfriend celebrate with me and a couple of friends upstate in this holiday cabin thing they rent and every year she tries to set me up with one of her friends and it ends badly every single time. I’m asking if you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend for just a few days.”
She laughs – well no, it’s actually more of a snort. It’s not what he expects and his eyes narrow at her as tries to regain composure by bringing her fingers to her lips but it doesn’t help. After a few seconds of her continued hilarity, he brings the palm of his hand to her mouth. She goes silent once their eyes meet and he slowly removes his hand.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” her tone is breathy, “but why would I do that?”
“Because we’re friends?” He offers weakly to which she just quirks a brow, “I’ll do whatever you want, I promise. I’ll do clean up duty and give you my tips for a week.”
She bites the inside of her cheek – Bellamy did get the best tips in the place. The extra money could help her put a down payment on the new car she wanted. Clarke knows he’s watching her, hoping that she budges so she keeps her face neutral.
“Why me?” the words make their way out before she can stop them.
He looks surprised again and it takes him a second to say anything, “I guess I know my sister would love you,” he shrugs. “I also remember you telling me last week that your parents booked a cruise during this time and you didn’t want to spend Christmas alone.”
Her head snaps up, eyebrows furrowed, and her lips slightly parted, “I didn’t tell you that.”
“Okay, so maybe I overhead you on the phone.”
“You were eavesdropping!”
He lets out a frustrated sigh, “Are you in or what?”
She probably should have taken more time to think about it but she doesn’t and she’s pretty sure she had her mind set right after he asked her, “Make it two weeks.”
A small smirk creeps onto his lips, “You have yourself a deal,” he comes closer and extends their hand to which she shakes. “Now go home and pack, we leave tomorrow.”