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Most people would want to celebrate their twenty first birthday at a bar. Or a club. Or maybe even just at Bahama Breeze, where they can order some fruity drink and feel cool about it. That’s what most people would do.
But, much to Clarke Griffin’s dismay, Raven Reyes is not “most people.”
That’s why she finds herself listening to some drawling teenager probably making minimum wage list off the rules for laser tag while Raven bounces excitedly next to her.
“Isn’t this great?” Raven whispers. Clarke blinks, not even pretending to like this situation. The room is lit only with black lights, so she’s just relieved she didn’t wear anything white, or she’d be looking as ridiculous as Finn, dressed in a white tee.
“You get points by ‘tagging’ enemies with your phasers. Different areas of the opponent’s vest are worth different amounts of points,” the employee says, “When you get tagged enough, you’ll have to recharge, and you won’t be able to shoot until you do.”
“There’s not even a guarantee that we’ll be on the same team,” Clarke points out to Raven.
“So?”
Beside her, Lexa rolls her eyes. “Clarke just wants to find a reason to not have fun.” She smirks. “It’s what she always did when we dated.”
“I’m fun,” Clarke grumbles, but her ex’s words have done their job, and she shuts up.
“There are two power-up modes you can go into: deflector mode and energizer mode. When you’re in deflector mode every shot that hits you will affect the shooter. When you’re in energizer mode, shoot your team, and you’ll recharge them,” the employee recites.
Their group wasn’t big enough for a full reservation, comprising only of herself, Raven, Lexa, Wick, Finn, and Wells, so another (very loud) group stands in the ready room with them, wearing the beeping vests a bit small for people their age. Clarke very decidedly keeps herself from staring at one member of that group, a guy with messy black curls and muscles that somehow are still defined through his dark gray jacket, because drool doesn’t suit her.
“Could be worse,” Wells comments to her, “We could be with middle schoolers.”
Clarke gives him that much.
“Any questions?” the laser tag employee asks. Nobody speaks, because who could possibly have any questions about laser tag. “Alright, just remember, no running or tackling. Your teams should be up on that screen,” he says, pointing up at a large television at the corner of the dark room, “in a sec.”
“This is stupid,” Clarke mutters.
“Hey, princess!” comes a voice from across the room. Clarke’s head snaps up and her eyes meet the dark gaze of that hot guy, who is smirking at her. “Lighten up!”
Clarke’s eyes narrow. Alright, so the hot guy is also an asshole.
“See, even stranger guy agrees with me!” Raven teases, and their group laughs. Clarke looks over at the attractive asshole and mouths, “Go fuck yourself,” at him. He merely winks in response.
The television screen lights up with the teams, and Clarke finds her name first on a list that includes Wick, Wells, and three from the other group: Jasper, Octavia, and Nathan. Red team. She shoots Raven a forlorn look, but her friend is absolutely delighted by the turn of events, cheerfully fist-bumping Lexa and Finn, who are all on the blue team with people named Bellamy, Murphy, and Monty.
“Sorry about Bellamy,” comes an energetic voice from behind her. Clarke turns in surprise to see a brunette, probably a few years younger than her, smiling at her.
“Bellamy?” Clarke echoes, confused.
“My brother,” the girl qualifies, pointing at the annoying hot guy. “He’s an ass. Sorry he called you out.” Oh, him. She holds out a hand. “I’m Octavia.”
“Clarke,” Clarke introduces, taking Octavia’s hand with a smile. “And don’t worry about your brother. Not your fault he’s an idiot, right?” Octavia laughs.
“I like you, Clarke!” She points to a scrawny boy with big eyes, “That’s Jasper,” and then at a larger, dark-skinned man with a bit of a beard, “and that’s Nathan, but we call him Miller.”
Miller smiles. “Hi.”
“Let’s kick some ass!” Jasper whoops gleefully, high-fiving a very taken aback Clarke. “RED TEAM RULES!”
The employee presses a red button on the wall. “When we enter, red team take a left, and your base will be straight ahead. Blue team follow me. Don’t leave your base until the game starts. You can return to your base to recharge whenever you want during the game, and at the end of every game. For those of you who are more daring and want more points, you get a heck of a lot by shooting your enemy’s base.” He points Clarke’s team towards their base, and starts off in the opposite direction.
The hot guy, Bellamy, lingers for a moment, smirking at Clarke. “See ya out there, Princess. Don’t mess up your hair or anything.”
“Too late for yours,” Clarke replies icily, deciding then and there that she is going to kick his sorry ass. He laughs and follows after his group.
Their base glows bright red, and includes a screen with all of the names and point tallies.
“Well, at least I can camouflage easily,” Wells comments cheerfully. Wick raises an eyebrow.
“Did you just make a black joke?” he asks. Wells grins, and Octavia bursts out laughing. Miller looks over at Clarke, whose eyes are fixed on Bellamy’s name on the television screen.
“You look like a woman on a mission,” he comments. Clarke glances at him.
“I’m going to kick your friend’s ass.”
He chuckles. “Noted.”
An alarm blares, and a mechanical voice from the ceiling announces the first game. A countdown begins, and everyone splits up to find suitable hiding spots.
Clarke treks to a second level platform and ducks behind a small wall. She hears more footsteps approaching, and can hear Raven’s loud not-a-whisper.
“Three . . . two . . . one . . . BEGIN!”
Clarke bursts out of her hiding spot and immediately comes face to face with Raven, who tags her in the shoulder with a joyful whoop.
“Told you this was fun!” she says, running off. Clarke runs back down to the first level to recharge, and finds Jasper crouched there.sick
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Protecting the base!” he replies. Clarke looks at the scoreboard as her vest hums, recharged. Bellamy is racking up points, and she stands solidly at zero.
“Game on,” she mutters, darting into the fray.
Laser tag turns out to be fun. Nobody obeys the rule about running, so Clarke gets quite a workout in as she tags people left and right. She manages to evade a tag from Lexa, and sends her and a sullen-looking boy with sunken in eyes scrambling back to their base to recharge.
“Impressive,” comes a voice from behind her, prompting Clarke to dive behind a wall.
She can hear Bellamy approaching on the other side, and risks peeking through a small crevice. He’s approaching at a leisurely pace.
“I thought you were too cool for this game, Princess,” he taunts, edging closer. Clarke rolls, actually rolls, out and tags him right in the center of his chest, effectively disabling him. She grins mockingly at him.
“You think too much,” she says. He smirks.
“Game on, Princess,” he replies as he turns to run back to his base.
Clarke runs too, and manages to tag both Finn and Raven before her vest starts blinking. She’s been put in deflector mode. A wicked smile crosses her face, and she knows exactly who she’s tracking down. She speeds towards the Blue base, passing Octavia and Lexa caught in a vicious back and forth. She helps her new friend out, tagging Lexa as she runs by.
She finds a hiding spot near the Blue base and shoots at it over and over until she realizes her phaser has run out of ammo. So much for being daring, now she’s stuck on the other side.
On the bright side, she must have a hell of a lot of points now.
He finds her soon enough, cutting her off before she can reach his base. “Brave princess,” he says, aiming his phaser and firing. She just laughs as his vest goes off again, signaling he has to recharge, and then she runs.
The deflector mode does little for her after that, protecting her from shots from Raven and Lexa. She begins taking shots at Finn, and not at all because she’s still the tiniest bit bitter about-
Her vest begins beeping. Well shit, she’s been tagged. She whirls around, looking to see who got her, and spies Bellamy, perched on the second level with a triumphant grin on his stupid face.
She’s about to run after him and damn the consequences, but the entire room suddenly goes still as the mechanical voice announces the end of the first game and tells the room to return to their bases. Bellamy salutes at her before turning and jogging in the direction of his base.
“RED TEAM WINS.”
“What the hell, Clarke?” Octavia demands when Clarke arrives at their base. Clarke blinks in surprise.
“What?”
“Since when are you a laser tag master?” Jasper asks, pointing at the scoreboard.
13,725
“Is that good?” she asks. Wick laughs, and points at his own score: 4,330. Octavia grins wolfishly.
“Looks like only Bell has you beat,” she says, nodding at his score.
14,015
“This time,” Clarke mutters as the second game begins. The team splits, and Clarke begins her hunt for Bellamy. She runs into Lexa first, and manages to tag her before moving forward before seeing Raven and tagging her.
This game is like a power trip. Clarke loves it.
She hears footsteps approaching her from behind, and dodges a tag just in time, ducking behind a column. Her would-be attacker laughs.
“Nice reflexes, Princess.”
Clarke rolls her eyes. “Are you following me or something?”
“Or something.” He steps into view, phaser resting lazily in his hands. “Looks like great minds attract.”
“I’m not attracted to you.” Bellamy shrugs, stepping forward and holding Clarke’s gaze challengingly. It really isn’t fair, Clarke ruminates, that he is so freaking good looking.
“Too bad.” Her vest vibrates and buzzes, signaling she’s been tagged. Clarke looks down from his eyes and sees his phaser pointed right at her chest. “I’m attracted to you.” With that, he winks and runs off.
Clarke stares after him, mouth wide open in shock.
She’s suddenly passed by the evil-looking guy, who Octavia told her was Murphy, chasing Jasper yelling, “YOU’RE DEAD TO ME, JORDAN!”
That sight manages to snap her out of her state of shock, and she begins to run back to her base, but is intercepted by a tag from Octavia, who waves cheerfully and announces she’s in energizer mode. Clarke salutes her with a chuckle before continuing forward.
Turns out annoyance improves her aim, because she’s on fire now, tagging Lexa, Finn, Murphy, and Monty before she has to return to her base to recharge. She heads back out into the fray, and of course the first person she finds is Bellamy.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” she mutters, aiming her phaser at Bellamy.
“Saw your point tally, Princess-“
“Clarke,” she corrects through clenched teeth.
“-and I’ve gotta say, you’re pretty impressive.” Clarke arches an eyebrow, awaiting the punchline. “Too bad I’m still beating you.” Clarke growls.
“You might be beating me by more if you weren’t so distracted,” she says blithely, tagging him in the shoulder with an unapologetic smirk. “Since you know, you are attracted to me after all.”
Bellamy runs towards his base without another word.
Clarke gets tagged soon after by Monty, who actually apologizes to her before scampering off when Octavia comes into view.
After recharging at the base and running into a very sweaty Wells who’s been put into energizer mode, Clarke decides to try tagging the Blue base because what the hell, the game’s almost over and she’d really like to beat Bellamy.
You know, for her team’s sake. The team. Red team.
“Princess!”
Speak of the devil.
She doesn’t say anything, just turns and runs like hell. She can feel him running behind her and dodges behind a column. He runs past her, and she can’t believe that actually worked, running back out to tag him from behind only to run right smack into his chest.
“Hm. Cozy,” he remarks easily, hand coming up to rest on her back, effectively holding her to him. It’s kind of hard getting too close, however, because they are wearing bulky, light-up vests after all.
“Glad you think so,” Clarke snaps, a little too breathless to sound truly upset. His arms are very . . . nice. And defined. And she could touch them right now if she wanted to-
Her vest buzzes, and Bellamy’s lazy smirk widens into a full smile. “Who’s distracted now?” he whispers into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. Clarke glances to her left and her eyes light up as she slowly backs away.
Wells jumps out and shoots Clarke right int he chest, and a second later, she tags Bellamy in the chest. She high-fives her friend and sticks her tongue out at Bellamy, whose dark eyes are still fixed on Clarke.
“GAME TWO IS OVER. RETURN TO BASE.”
Clarke mock-salutes at Bellamy, who licks his lips (oh dear god, was it supposed to look as sexual as it does) and turns, running off towards his base. Wells slings an arm over Clarke’s shoulder and they stroll back to their base together.
Octavia claps Clarke on the back when they return, and Clarke grins at her score:
15,055
Immediately, she seeks out Bellamy’s score, and her grin widens.
14,995
“RED TEAM WINS.”
Octavia and Jasper do a happy dance at their scores, and Clarke chuckles when she sees Wick’s eyes being drawn to Raven’s score. Miller leans against one of the columns of the base and gives Clarke a thumbs up with a small smile, which she guesses is as good as it gets with the strong and silent type he is.
The last game begins, and Clarke ruefully fist bumps with her group before they split up one last time.
Clarke doesn’t get too far past the center of the course before she is pushed up against a wall, hot breath coursing over her face.
“I’m feeling a bit distracted,” Bellamy whispers, “What say you, Clarke?”
Because she’s Clarke, she tags him right in the shoulder and then lets her phaser fall out of her hand, so she can grab his stupid face and kiss the smug smirk right off it.
She thinks Blue team wins . . . but she can’t be sure. She’s a little . . . busy during the third game.
“Why was your score only fifteen in the last game, Clarke?” Jasper asks when they all get their scoresheets after their session. Raven and Lexa both shoot her knowing looks from where they stand, exchanging numbers with Octavia and Murphy.
“Better than Bellamy,” Miller says with a chuckle, “His score was zero.”
Bellamy slides up beside Clarke, slipping his phone into her hand and taking hers. She raises her eyebrows. “What are you doing?”
“We’re exchanging numbers, obviously,” he replies, “That way you know when to meet me for coffee.”
“How considerate of you,” she teases, trying to fight a smile. Bellamy just leans down and brushes a kiss against her cheek.
“Good game,” he murmurs. She blushes, seeing that everyone’s focus is now very much on them. Raven and Octavia are grinning so widely Clarke thinks their faces might break, and Wick fist-bumps Wells. Even Lexa has a smile on her face, though it’s more amusement than anything else.
“Gross,” Murphy says, and Clarke just laughs as Bellamy flips him off.
She’ll never complain about Raven’s party choices ever again.