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Mallory Blake-Woodley wakes with the sun on Saturday.
Too excited to fall back asleep, she traces the glow-in-the-dark constellations her Uncle Bellamy helped stick on the ceiling two years ago after she let it slip that she hated the dark. Now, she manages to point out his favorite, Cassiopeia, and the handle of the Big Dipper, before she can’t wait any longer. Jumping out of bed, she opens her closet door and smiles happily at the Girl Scout outfit hanging inside, pressed and clean as ever.
It won’t be clean in a few hours’ time, but Mallory knows her parents will be all the prouder for it.
Speaking of her parents-- she doesn’t hear them pattering around yet, so they must be asleep. Grinning, she slips out of her door, padding down the hall as silently as she can, avoiding the creak in the floor right outside her older brother’s room. There is no way Kai is awake yet, and she has no intention of being the one to wake him.
Her parents’ door is already ajar. Hesitantly, she pushes it further open, then frowns at the sight of the empty bed, neatly made down to the folded blanket.
A large arm wraps around her waist without warning, and she shrieks with glee as her dad tosses her over his shoulder with ease. She’s still giggling when he wanders into the kitchen, where her mom is making coffee in her PJs. Today she’s wearing the blue bottoms with candy canes, even though it’s the middle of summer.
“Well hello, what do we have here?”
“I found this one snooping in our room,” he says solemnly. "Do you recognize her, darling?”
“Daaaaad,” Mallory whines. He doesn’t budge.
Her mom arches a sly eyebrow, propping a hand on her hip. “Hmm… nope, don’t think so. What should we do with her?”
“Moooommmmm.”
“I think the only solution is to feed her pancakes until she breaks,” her dad decides, and finally sets her down.
Mallory grins and flings herself at her mom. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, kiddo.” Cool lips touch her forehead; a hand strokes her hair. “You’re up early. Special occasion?”
Her mom knows exactly what today is. Today’s the day she gets to go on her first camping trip as a Girl Scout.
It’s the day she’s been waiting for all year, ever since she became a Brownie. This is her second year - last year she was too sick to go anywhere. Unfortunately, Kai’s coming along too, since he’s a boy scout and his group is paired with hers, but she can’t find much fault with it because it means Uncle Bellamy gets to join. He works with the Boy Scouts during the summer, when he’s not teaching at the high school.
And this year there’s double the reason for excitement, because her group leader is none other than Aunt Clarke. Of course, she can’t call her Aunt Clarke too much on the trip, but she’s gonna try, if only to see her Uncle Bellamy smile like a goofball each time.
She’s not really her aunt - not yet, anyways - but she may as well be. The woman has been around forever. Mallory knows the story nearly by heart now. Her dad and Clarke grew up together, both art majors in college when they crashed - quite literally - into the Blakes one afternoon. Octavia made a diving catch to save Lincoln’s clay project, after which, in Aunt Clarke’s words, “he was downright smitten.” Uncle Bellamy had to agree, after some poking and prodding from Clarke.
But Mallory’s favorite part to boast about is that Clarke was even in the delivery room when Mallory was born - while Bellamy and Lincoln ran every red light in town trying to get to the hospital. Not even Kai can say that. She’s quite fond of the tale, as is her mom.
Now Clarke teaches at the same school as Uncle Bellamy during the year, and he convinced her to help out with the girl scouts. So calling her aunt is as natural as calling Bellamy her uncle.
Mallory just wishes they’d hurry up and make it official. Even at her age, she can see what they somehow don’t.
But that’s part of why she’s so excited for this trip—it’s a chance to finally set her plan in motion. Well. It’s not entirely her plan. Her mom is the true mastermind, but she is more than willing to be the apprentice.
She’s halfway through the pancakes when the doorbell rings. Before either of her parents react, she shoots up out of the chair and past Kai where he’s finally emerged all groggy from his room. Her hand is on the doorknob when she remembers her manners at the last second.
“Who is it?” She calls.
An equally formal voice replies. “Clarke Griffin, your highness.”
Mallory yanks the door open and launches herself into Clarke’s waiting arms. The older woman laughs and ruffles her hair affectionately. “You get taller every time I see you, Mal.”
“Dad marked the wall just yesterday!” Mallory holds out her thumb and forefinger to measure. “I grew this much. Oh and look, I lost another tooth!”
She grins proudly, showing off the gap in her teeth. Clarke kneels and gasps. “Look at that, you did! I hope the tooth fairy rewarded you properly.”
“A whole dollar,” Mallory whispers.
Clarke’s eyebrows lift. “That must have been an important tooth. Can you give me some of that magic so I don’t have to go to the dentist again?” She begins laying kisses to Mallory’s cheeks and nose and chin until they’re both laughing. Over her shoulder, Mallory spots her Uncle Bellamy, who’s been leaning against his truck the whole time, just watching them both with a dopey grin on his face.
Mallory always thinks of it as the look Disney princes give their princesses when they’re not looking. Her mom likes to describe it as Dopey the dwarf.
She waves brightly at her uncle, who finally comes forward with just a few long strides, scooping her up in a tight hug. “Look at you munchkin, already up and about.”
“Is that Bell?” Octavia pokes her head around the corner. “Hey guys, come on in! Lincoln’s making breakfast.”
“Why else would we be here?” Clarke replies with a grin. Bellamy laughs and sets down Mallory, nudging Clarke forward with a hand on her back.
Mallory skips back and takes her seat, digging into her pancakes with gusto while the adults chat. Both Clarke and Bellamy are already dressed for the day in brown khaki uniforms, their names displayed on a strip near the collar. Clarke’s golden hair is bound in a neat plait down her back. Mallory used to envy it - still does, sometimes - but one day Clarke shared that sometimes she got jealous of her hair.
“It’s so thick and dark, just like your mom’s,” Clarke had said. “Naturally curly, too, like your uncle’s. That’s good genes, you know that? People pay so much money to make their hair look like yours. You’re one lucky duckling.” Leaning closer, she’d whispered, “Good thing you didn’t get your dad’s hair. I’d hate for you to be bald.”
Mallory had erupted in giggles, and when Clarke winked, she knew it would be their little secret.
“What are you smiling at?” Her mom’s voice brings her out of the memory and back to the present.
“I’m going to go get ready,” she announces, bouncing up.
Her mom joins her when she’s brushing her hair, shutting the door behind her. “You look wonderful, sweetie. Got your pins?”
Mallory nods and holds out the two pins, one for each badge she’s earned so far. A red cross, for first aid, and a small beaker, for the science project she and Aunt Clarke worked on for days. Her mother attaches each to her uniform, then pats her shoulders with a smile. Mallory turns, letting her gather her hair up. With practiced ease, her mom binds her hand into a secure braid, tying it off with a blue ribbon.
“Alright, there you go. Now where’s your backpack… aha.” She grabs the striped bag from the floor, checking the contents. “I’ve got some extra snacks for you downstairs, too.” Her mom sits on the bed and takes her hands. “You remember what we talked about earlier, right kiddo?”
“The Cupid Badge,” Mallory replies eagerly. Her mom tweaks her nose with a grin.
“Mhmm. And what does that involve?”
“Giving Uncle Bell and Aunt Clarke extra time together. And being… dis- dis--” She frowns, searching for the word. “Discreet!”
“Good girl. And?”
“It’s our secret. Part of the task is to complete it without anyone finding out.”
Her mother smiles and kisses her cheek before standing. Heading downstairs, they find Bellamy deep in conversation with Kai about the latest video game, and even her dad has put down his newspaper to chime in now and then. Her mom and Clarke share an eyeroll, though she catches Clarke looking at Bellamy afterwards. Mallory wishes he would turn around just to see her expression.
It’s wistful, but more than that it reminds her of the way her dad always looks at her mom — like he can’t believe his luck.
~~~~~~~~~
They arrive at their starting point about an hour later. The Shenandoah Valley is full of trails and parks and all sorts of outdoor activities. Mallory can see why her parents picked this place to settle. Both of them hate to be cooped up indoors for longer than necessary, and so since she was a kid she’s been out traipsing the valley, quite literally following in their footsteps.
A few others have already arrived, and after they’ve parked, Bellamy and Clarke set about greeting the kids and their respective parents. Mallory hops out eagerly, skipping over to where Gabbi Miller sits in the open back of her dad’s van. Gabbi cheers and jumps down in time for them to collide in a hug, and Mr. Miller gives her a high five afterwards.
“Okay, I promised Monty I’d get a picture of this, so please stay still for two seconds longer,” he says, and holds up his phone.
Gabbi and Mallory strike a pose, giggling as soon as the flash goes off. Aunt Clarke comes over to chat for a bit before calling the girls to gather up. Gabbi gives a big hug to her dad one more time before bounding over to stand next to Mallory, awaiting their instructions. All the girls look at Clarke with a similar admiration as she greets them one by one with her usual cheerful nature. She doesn’t smother them with compliments—instead she asks each a question about their lives, patiently listening to the excited answers. Mallory often wonders how Clarke can keep that much information in her head; she can barely remember what her homework is each night.
Looking over at the boys, she finds them huddled around her uncle as he does the same thing. He’s squatted on a log, munching on the honey-roasted peanuts he’s addicted to, laughing as one of the boys’ stories becomes animated.
There’s a light touch on her shoulder, and then Clarke is crouching down next to her. When she follows her line of sight to Bellamy, the smile fades, a twinge of concern appearing on her brow.
“Sorry you can’t be part of your uncle’s group,” Clarke says softly.
Mallory’s eyes widen. “I don’t want to be! Really. I love being in your group.” She wrinkles her nose. “Boys are annoying.”
Clarke laughs. “Yes they are. Us ladies gotta stick together, right?”
Mallory slaps her hand in a high-five, grinning as she moves on to tickle Gabbi before asking about her dads. Glancing back over at Bellamy, she finds his gaze stuck on Clarke, the adoration in plain sight. Then he catches Mallory watching and winks, giving a thumbs up.
She returns it, all the while silently promising her mom she’s definitely getting that cupid badge.
~~~~~~~~~
The groups mingle as they start on the trail to their campsites. Bellamy leads the way, while Clarke brings up the rear, keeping a head count. Ever so often he’ll look over his shoulder, their gazes meeting in a brief, silent conversation that leaves them both with faint smiles, and leaves Mallory with the urge to knock their heads together. Yeah, she’s definitely her mom’s daughter.
She and Gabbi pass the time by going through the badges they want to collect over the next three days. Mallory is determined to get the hiking one, which should be easy on one of these trails. But the one she really wants is the illustrator badge. Clarke has told her if she can draw three unique sights on the trip, it’s all hers.
They’re soon sweating with the way the sun’s beating down. The sky is clear for miles, the only hint of clouds too far off to have any real effect for a while yet. Mallory begins to eye each little creek they pass, wondering if it trails off into a proper river that she can dunk herself into.
“Going for a swim?”
She jumps at Clarke’s voice. Her blue eyes twinkle as she laughs knowingly, patting her shoulder. “We’re almost there, Mal. How’re you doing with those sketches?”
Mallory eagerly pulls out her phone, showing her the pictures she took so far. “I’m going to pick one tonight and start drawing in the sketchbook dad gave me,” she declares.
“Smart girl. Hey, will you do me a favor?” Clarke retrieves a snack pack from her bag - it’s filled with honey-roasted peanuts. “Can you give these to your uncle? I knew he’d run out of his stash before we even got halfway.”
Mallory giggles, racing ahead to catch up with Uncle Bellamy’s long strides. He sees her coming and waves, pulling her close in a half-hug.
“Hey munchkin. Doing okay?” When she nods, he looks at the bag. “What’ve you got there?”
“Aunt Clarke said to give it to you.”
She holds out the snacks triumphantly, smiling to herself at his surprise. “From Clarke, you said?”
“Yep. She said you’d run through yours before we reached camp.”
Now he grins too, walking backwards. Finding Clarke, he mouths a thank you with an exaggerated tip of his hat. She rolls her eyes but smiles anyways. Mallory’s come to think of that as his smile, the one Clarke always seems to save just for him - there’s a fondness to it that can’t be hidden. Not that she’d ever admit it.
Her uncle is already halfway through the peanuts when he says, “So do you have your story ready for tomorrow night?”
They both know her favorite part of any trip is the storytelling, and this time she gets to be the storyteller - at least for a few minutes. She loves to write on her own, filling her journal with both memories and her imagination.
“I think so,” she answers after a moment. “I’m deciding between two of them.”
“Oh yeah? How will you choose?”
She grins. “Whichever one feels right after our adventures.”
He returns her smile and pats her shoulder before his eyes drift to the group, and he straightens up. “Uh oh. Gotta go keep your peers out of trouble.” Striding forward, he calls out sternly, crooking his finger at a couple of boys who hang their head sheepishly while Mallory suppresses her laughter. She doesn’t envy them one bit. She’s been on the receiving end of an Uncle Bellamy talking-to; it’s not fun.
~~~~~~~~~
At the campsite, they all begin to set up their tents. The air is soon filled with groans and arguments and muttering as everyone tries to follow the instructions in their booklets. Aside from a quick demonstration, Bellamy and Clarke mostly supervise, intervening only when things seem dire.
Gabbi and Mallory are halfway through their instructions when they hear a yell, and they look over to see one of the tents has collapsed over a boy scout. Bellamy dives inside, making much more trouble than necessary as he scoops the boy out and holds him aloft. The kid looks embarrassed at the whole thing - and she knows her uncle has noticed. After ushering him aside, Bellamy takes just one step and gets tangled in the fabric himself. He goes down with an exaggerated shout, limbs flailing, begging for help from the older kids.
Giggling, Mallory looks at Clarke, who’s observing the whole thing with her hands on her hips, failing to hold back her smile at his antics. The younger boy, Gavin, stands nearby. She crouches and whispers something to him that makes him beam, then sends him over to Mallory and Gabbi to help finish their tent.
The kids have pulled Bellamy out by this point, and he stretches to his full height with a loud groan, thanking them profusely. Spinning in a circle, he looks for his hat, only to find Clarke twirling it on her finger a few feet away.
“Lose something?” she asks innocently. “Sorry, finder’s keepers. Guess it’s mine now.” With a grin, she plops it on her head, the brim facing backwards.
A strange look crosses his face, one that Mallory struggles to recognize. But it makes Clarke do a double-take, her lips parting without a sound. Then Bellamy blinks and smiles lazily, shrugging.
“Suits you, princess.”
Clarke looks away first, suddenly becoming busy with another group. Her cheeks are flushed with color, and Mallory wonders what she just missed.
The grin remains on Bellamy’s face for the rest of the evening, all the way until they sit down in a circle around their campfire, roasting marshmallows for their s'mores. Clarke is still wearing his hat, and he can’t seem to take his eyes off her, while she stares determinedly at everything but him.
Mallory wonders what her mom would do if she was here right now.
The stories begin slowly, alternating between girl and boy. They’ll stop halfway around the circle, and either Clarke or Bellamy will finish the night with their tale, and then it’ll resume again tomorrow night. That’s when Mallory will tell hers.
She is listening to the others, she really is, but it’s hard to tear her eyes away from how close her uncle sits next to Clarke, how their knees occasionally bump, how she’ll nudge his shoulder and whisper something that makes him grin, how he sneaks glances at her when she’s not looking. Now and then he’ll hand her a stick with two or three marshmallows with a knowing smile - Clarke has a particular weakness for them. She accepts with an almost shy thanks, cheeks extra rosy in the light of the campfire.
It’s little things like this that Mallory picks up on, because it’s these small moments that she’s watched build up for years in her own home. When it’s not between them, it’ll be something between her mom and dad. She can’t help but observe those things; they interest her more than the grand gestures of the movies. Maybe it’s because those big things always seem to fade, and what’s under that is what really counts. It always makes her sigh a little, with the warm happy feeling that buzzes in her body.
Mallory doesn’t realize she’s being watched until she shifts her gaze from the fire to Clarke, to find the older woman looking right back, a silent inquiry in her eyes. Mallory offers a cheery smile, trying to convey that she’s fine. Clarke knows too well how she can get stuck in her own head sometimes.
The stories have wound down without her realizing it, and Clarke puts together her s’more almost delicately as Bellamy tries not to laugh. Then she settles into her seat and begins to tell her tale.
“I don’t know if you guys realized it, but nearly everyone’s story tonight was about how at some point in your life, you had to learn to ask for help. It’s a good lesson to learn, and I’m glad to see you’ve become aware of it at such an early age.” She pauses to grin. “Unlike stubborn old me, who took up to college to figure that out.”
A smattering of chuckles echoes from the group before she continues. Mallory leans forward unconsciously.
“When I was 18, I fractured my ankle. It was my freshman year of college, right before spring break, so everyone had left already. I had just moved out of my dorm and into an apartment off-campus. It was cheaper--”
“And you couldn’t stand your roommate,” Bellamy interrupts.
“And I couldn’t stand my roommate,” she adds sheepishly as they laugh. “So, we were on the third floor of the building. No elevator. And I had a huge ugly black boot that went up to here," she draws a line on her calf, "with crutches as tall as my shoulder.” She grimaces. “Not my best moment.”
“How did you fracture it?” Gabbi gets to the question a split second before Mallory.
Clarke’s mouth twists ever so briefly, and Bellamy feels the need to stand up and rifle in his bag at that precise moment.
“Long story short,” Clarke finally says, “I was young and reckless. Took on a dare that I probably shouldn’t have.” She twists her braid absently until Bellamy sits back down, handing over half a bar of her favorite caramel-filled chocolate. He looks almost meek, and Mallory is ready to bet her parent’s house on the idea that he was involved in this somehow.
Clarke doesn’t say a word, but her eyes twinkle as she accepts the treat, slowly unwrapping it. “So where was I? Right, I had to get up three flights of stairs with a bum ankle. Lucky for me, my new roommate’s infuriating big brother happened to be crashing in our apartment,” she says a bit gleefully. Bellamy hangs his head, raising an arm in the air.
“So he generously offered a hand when he found me stuck halfway up the first landing,” she finishes with a small laugh. “It took me a while to agree, and even longer to accept any help after that. I had kind of decided that if I had been harebrained enough to break my ankle, I could also deal with the recovery.”
“But,” she drawls, “he was persistent. And since he was staying there for the week anyways, we figured out quickly things would go more smoothly if we stopped fighting every time he tried to help. Plus, he had good taste in TV shows. And a Netflix account.”
The look on Bellamy's face is unbearably tender, though she's focusing too hard on the chocolate to notice.
"Anyways. Moral of the story being, sometimes it's okay to ask for help. It doesn't make you weak, by any means. It just means you're smart enough to know when to swallow your pride."
They begin to wrap up for the night soon after that, ushering each pair into their shared tent. Gabbi’s snores sound almost immediately, but Mallory stays awake a bit longer, flipping through her photos until she finds one she particularly likes, of a robin perched on a tree branch. She’s just finished sketching out the leaves on the branch when she hears hushed voices outside. Smiling to herself, she crawls out of her bedroll, lifting the flap enough to peek outside.
The adults have settled down by the fire again. Bellamy has his his legs stretched out, leaning on his elbows while Clarke sits cross-legged beside him.
“I can’t believe you picked that story,” he’s saying.
She giggles, bumping his knee. “Not intentional. But it kind of fit with the theme of the evening, don’t you think?”
“It sure did, princess.” He taps the brim of the hat, still atop her head. “Surprised you didn’t mention the peanuts, though.”
“Hey, I already let it slip that breaking my ankle was my fault. No need to let them know I was a failure in the kitchen, too.”
“Not entirely your fault.” He chuckles and tugs her braid like a kid on the playground. “I still remember opening those cabinets and nearly drowning in all the blue packs that fell out.”
“I was sitting on the counter,” she reminds him.
“Well out of harm’s way,” he retorts. “You only have yourself to blame for my addiction to those things now. I end up buying them in bulk from Costco, you know. ”
She grins rather smugly. “I know.”
Mallory shakes her head, filing the information away for later. These two.
~~~~~~~~~
In the morning, she wakes before the others and lies there for a few minutes more, basking in the silence that’s only broken by the chirp of a bird or the trickle of a nearby stream. Eventually, she hears soft footsteps outside, so she slips out of the bedroll, careful not to wake Gabbi. The girl is known to send fists flying when woken earlier than she’s ready.
Exiting her tent, Mallory finds Clarke standing by the firepit, yawning hugely and rubbing sleep from her eyes.
“No coffee out here, princess,” Bellamy nudges her with a cheeky grin. “You’ll have to make do with OJ.”
He laughs outright when Clarke levels a glare in his direction and snatches the juice bottle from his hand. Then she plops his hat backwards over her loose hair and stomps away. Catching Mallory’s gaze, her uncle holds his hand up for a high five.
“Sleep well, kiddo?” As she nods, her stomach grumbles. Loudly. Bellamy chuckles. “Hungry? Come on, lets see what snacks your aunt packed for us. You know she came prepared.”
Mallory grins and takes his hand, noting the deep snores coming from the other tents. Clarke is sitting by her pack, the orange juice already halfway gone in a desperate attempt to wake up. As they approach, she looks up.
“We didn’t even bring tea bags? How in the world did I forget tea bags? We could have at least boiled water or something…” she trails off, nearly curling over as she hunts around in her backpack. Bellamy taps Mallory’s shoulder and puts a finger to his lips before reaching into his pocket and showing her the chai tea bags he’s hiding.
Mallory covers her mouth, trying not to giggle with delight. He conceals them again and kneels next to Clarke, putting a hand to his chin in thought.
“You don’t think we left them in the car? Or on your counter, with the rest of the caffeine section that you bought out of the grocery store?”
She shoves him absently, like an afterthought. “Shut up.” After a minute, she glances over her shoulder. “Hey Mal. Did you sleep okay?”
“I did. It was really peaceful here at night.”
Clarke’s face softens for a second. “It was, wasn’t it? I always forget how much I like this place.” A strand of her hair flies up as she huffs a frustrated breath. “Apparently I forgot a lot of things this time.”
“It’s not like you to be so forgetful, princess,” Bellamy chimes in. His eyes are gleaming, almost a dead giveaway that he’s got something up his sleeve - but Clarke isn’t looking, for once.
“I was kind of distracted,” she snarks back. Her bad mood deepens, as does the concentrated frown on her face.
Bellamy trades a wink with Mal, then tilts his head at Clarke. Should I? Even though Mallory nods, he pretends to think some more. Clarke has moved on to search in his pack instead, mumbling to herself.
“They were bright orange packs, how can they not be here? I remember shoving them into a bag before we left, there’s nothing else that looks like them…”
“Hmm. Any chance they looked like this?” Bellamy finally slides one from his pocket and dangles it in front of her nose.
Clarke lets out a little shriek and lunges for it, then tackles him in a hug all the same. His laughter rings out as he whispers something in her ear. Pulling back, she punches his arm repeatedly. “You hid them on purpose!! You ass-- jerk! And here I was, about to guzzle the rest of that OJ.” He’s still laughing, though he catches her fists easily. “Give me the others,” Clarke demands, smiling.
“How about a trade?” Bellamy wiggles his eyebrows.
Mallory isn’t sure what he means, but Clarke seems to get it, because her face goes red in a matter of seconds and she pushes him to the ground with a “hmpfh” and stands abruptly while he lays there chuckling.
“I’ll get them later,” she says, a bit breathless. “Come on, Mal, want to help me out?”
They get the fire going under a tin of water as the others begin to wake. Mallory finally manages to drag Gabbi out of their tent, luring her with the scent of more s’mores. When she looks over next, Clarke has her hands wrapped around a chipped polka-dot mug, her eyes closed in bliss as she takes a sip. Bellamy finishes checking in on the others, exchanging a fist bump with Gavin, then drops down next to her, holding out a tin of cookies.
She eyes him suspiciously, then snatches a couple for herself. Highly amused, he reaches for her hand, motioning for her to keep it outstretched. Then he drops the rest of the tea bags into her palm, fingers dancing on her wrist before he leaps up again, ready to attend to the next group of boys that have emerged groggily from their tents. Clarke watches him go, a hint of his smile appearing on her face as she tucks the teabags away safely.
~~~~~~~~~
The sun inches higher in the sky as the day continues smoothly, not a cloud in sight. Having finished the robin drawing and selected her second photo, Mallory is well on her way to earning the illustrator badge. She also hasn’t forgotten about her special cupid badge.
Throughout the morning, she manages to orchestrate two more schemes for her uncle and soon-to-be-official aunt. First, she pulls aside Clarke to ask for her help with drawing faces, and in minutes Clarke is chattering about shadows and light and structure with such enthusiasm that Mallory can’t help but beg her for an example—by drawing her Uncle Bellamy, of course.
Clarke stammers. “Oh. Um--well-- I-I’m not sure he’d want to--”
“Want to what?”
Bellamy squats down beside them with an oblivious smile, and Mallory could kiss him for his timing. “You should pose for Aunt Clarke,” she declares. “She can draw you, and I can watch and learn.”
He looks to Clarke, who’s flipping through her notebook with a sudden fascination. A playful smile tugs at his mouth. “I could do that,” he says.
She glances at him through her lashes, then at Mallory, who gives her her most innocent expression. “Maybe later,” Clarke suggests. “After we get you and Gabbi that hiking badge?”
Mallory nods, excited by the notion. She spends the rest of the morning planning her ideas for that, as well as planting another seed. While helping Clarke later, she hints at the story she’s telling tonight, about a time she went on a trip all through the state with her uncle looking for one specific book.
“Your uncle would spend an entire day searching for a book,” Clarke laughs. “Nerd.”
But Mallory shakes her head, a tad gleeful. “It wasn’t for him,” she confides. “It was a birthday gift.”
It was a little over a year ago, when Uncle Bell had asked if she wanted to go on an adventure. Of course she’d said yes, and so off they had gone, traipsing to bookstore after bookstore in Virginia, making phone call after phone call to mysterious “sources” (her uncle’s words), and definitely getting lost more than once. But Bellamy’s determination rivals Clarke’s, and so of course he’d found it late in the day - a first edition of her favorite childhood book. They had celebrated with ice cream on the drive home.
When Clarke gapes for longer than 30 seconds, Mallory knows she’s figured it out. She mimes zipping her mouth shut and skips off to her tent, intending to draw some more. Looking through the flap, she finds Clarke still looking a bit dazed, and grins.
She’s quite proud of her progress, if she does say so herself.
It’s in the afternoon, after they’ve scarfed down the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches stashed in the cooler, that She and Gabbi have paired up to search for a specific flower. She’s hoping to draw it, and Gabbi’s hoping to stash it as proof for yet another badge. Clarke is just a few steps behind them, humming a soft melody.
She’s not sure why the little trail catches her attention. It might be the crooked way it splits off the main path, like in the picture books; it might be the burst of flowers at the bottom that beckon to her itchy fingers. All she can think is that Aunt Clarke would look so pretty with the bright blossoms in her hair; or maybe Uncle Bellamy can give them to her as a surprise later. Yes, that’s much better.
And so she skips down the path, only realizing how steep it actually is when she’s well on her way. With a little shriek, she realizes she can’t stop.
“Mal? Hang on there!” Clarke’s shout comes even as she’s skidding, trying to keep her balance. The woman reaches her in a few long strides, grasping her arm tightly. “Hey, I got you. Maybe we should find another way down there, hmm?”
But even as she says it she’s wobbling, her footing less sure by the second.
“I’m sorry--” Mallory tries to explain.
“It’s okay. Up you go, come on.” Clarke sets her hands on her shoulders and urges her forward. Mallory begins to trudge back the way she came, much more slowly.
Except then she hears a gasp, followed by shuffling, and when she whirls around Clarke has crumpled to the ground.
Her face twists in pain as she grasps her leg, muffling a grunt into her shoulder. Mallory kneels beside her, alternately reaching her hands out and then pulling back, terrified of making things worse. Clarke struggles to stand, then instantly falls to her knees again, the weight on her foot too much to bear.
“Mal,” Clarke whispers, “please go get your uncle.”
“I’m not leaving.” Mal turns and yells up to Gabbi. “Go get Uncle Bell!”
It feels like much more than a few minutes as she sits there helplessly, but soon Bellamy is rushing down the ridge, alarm on his features.
“Clarke!” He sinks to the ground beside her, cradling her cheek and brushing leaves from her hair. “Shit, what happened?”
“I-I’m fine,” she manages. “Just my ankle.”
His hand brushes down her leg, hovering over hers. “Where’s the pain?” He gently presses a few areas until she flinches, grabbing his other arm. “Sshh, shh, okay,” he murmurs, pulling her close. “It’s fine. I’ve got you.”
Over her head, he looks at Mallory. “Hey Mal, would you grab Clarke’s pack please?”
She nods and hurries to do so, also snatching up his hat from where it’s fallen on the ground. When she turns, Bellamy has pulled Clarke to her feet, letting her rest her weight on her good leg. Then he sweeps her into his arms without a word, and she locks her hands around his neck, resting her face against his shoulder with a sigh.
“Okay?” He asks softly.
“Mhm.” She offers a weak grin. “Just like old times, huh?”
A glimmer of a smile appears on his face, and he touches his forehead to hers. “I’d prefer a different form of nostalgia next time.”
~~~~~~~~~
Clarke being Clarke, she manages to turn the whole experience into a lesson. The kids take turns helping her, and she somehow finds a badge for all of them in the process - first aid, caretaker, cooking. Mallory isn’t sure if she’s making up half of them, but aside from her bandaged foot - courtesy of Bellamy - she’s pretty sure nobody else would handle this like Clarke.
She still feels awful for the whole thing. Awful, and stupid. For caring about a silly badge instead of her own wellbeing, she ended up getting one of her favorite people hurt, too.
Her uncle seems to sense something is off, because he stops by every few minutes with a task or a question or a treat, despite not wanting to leave Clarke’s side otherwise. Mallory knows he means well, but it just serves to make her feel that much worse for her careless actions.
Dinner is quiet, and though Clarke insists she wants to hear everyone’s remaining stories, she begins yawning enough that Bellamy carries her into the tent soon after. It’s just as well—Mallory doesn’t feel like talking. But she does want to say good night to Clarke.
So after her uncle steps out to help the others, she sneaks in. Clarke is lying on a bedroll, her leg propped up a backpack.
“Hey there.” She puts her book aside and pats the spot next to her. Mallory sits and looks at her bandaged foot and the scrapes she’s just now noticing on her arms, and suddenly it’s all a lot to take.
“What’s wrong, munchkin?” Clarke’s voice is quiet. Mallory shakes her head, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay, but one or two slip out anyways. Clarke’s eyes widen in alarm, and she shifts closer to put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. “Hey, shh, what’s all this?”
After a couple of hiccups, she says, “I-I’m s-so sorry.”
“For what?” Clarke looks between her and her injured foot. “This? Oh sweetie, that’s nothing. I’ll be chasing after you in no time.” When that still doesn’t prompt a smile, she pauses. “Mallory. You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“But I do!” She bursts out finally. “This was all my fault!”
“How--?”
“If I hadn’t been trying to get that stupid--” She bites her tongue at the last second, not wanting to spill her secret altogether. Though it seems stupid now anyways.
Clarke strokes a hand over her unkempt hair, tucking it behind her ear and rubbing her arms comfortingly. Mallory remains silent.
“Would you rather tell Uncle Bellamy?” Clarke asks.
“No! I’m not supposed to tell anyone!”
“Says who?”
“Mom,” she replies automatically. Then she claps a hand over her mouth, realizing she walked right into the trap.
Clarke looks oddly thoughtful when she finally peeks up. “I should have known this had something to do with your mother.” With a sigh, she hugs Mallory close again, laying her cheek atop her hair. “You don’t have to tell me, if you really don’t want to. But I don’t like seeing you upset, kiddo.”
Mallory considers it; at this point the badge doesn’t mean anything to her, not after seeing one of her favorite people in such pain. And Clarke is resourceful - she’ll probably find out somehow.
Glumly, she begins, “I was trying to get the Cupid Badge. It’s a secret one that only mom and I know about. She said… she said I should just give you and Uncle Bell some time alone, without anyone else knowing. I wanted to get those flowers for you, earlier. Well, for my uncle to give to you. He loves giving you gifts anyways, and I’m sure if he’d been there he’d have picked them himself.” She pauses, not seeing how Clarke’s face lights up at her words. “Anyways. I was thinking about that dumb badge. So, it is all my fault.”
They sit quietly for a few minutes after her confession. She keeps staring at her lap, tracing the light scrape on her knee and fiddling with the horseshoe charm on the anklet Aunt Raven gave her for her birthday last year.
Then, to her utter surprise, Clarke laughs.
It’s more of a snort, really, followed by another, and a smile that’s unrestrained in its glee. Mallory doesn’t know what to think at all. She’s even more confused when Clarke puts both arms around her and begins to kiss her forehead, her ear, her cheek — noisy, wet kisses that make her squirm and giggle along soon enough.
Bellamy chooses that moment to duck inside the tent, his words cutting off midstream as he catches sight of their state. His mouth quirks upwards as he crouches there, waiting. Clarke glances at him with undisguised affection, then holds out a hand to tug him down next to her. Their fingers wind together naturally, and stay that way, resting atop his knee.
“Care to explain?” He asks curiously.
Clarke grins. “It seems your sister recruits them pretty young these days.” Squeezing Mallory’s shoulder, she continues, “This one seems to think it’s her fault that I hurt my ankle. Because she was trying to get flowers for me, you see. As part of a test for the Cupid Badge.” She puts emphasis on the name. “A special badge that only her mother knows about, and that must be kept a secret in order to win it.”
Bellamy looks between them in growing astonishment. “Are you serious? Mal, what did your mom say to you?”
She looks at her folded hands, unsure and a bit embarrassed until Clarke brushes a hand down her back. “It’s okay, sweetie. We can keep a secret, right Bell?”
Mallory looks up in time to see them exchange sly smiles, and she sits a bit straighter, her own curiosity starting to rise. Slowly, she repeats what she told Clarke just moments ago, watching her uncle’s face transform from surprise to amusement to plain old mischief.
“Wow,” he says when she’s done, and draws a hand over his face. “Wow,” he repeats again. “I shouldn’t be this surprised, but…” He barks out a laugh and nudges Clarke. “Have you told her?”
She shakes her head.
“Told me what?” Mallory scrambles to her knees, the excitement rising. “Told me what?” she presses.
Bellamy swings an arm around Clarke as she looks up at him with a sweet smile and gives a small nod. His gaze softens momentarily, and it’s all Mallory needs to know the truth. Her jaw drops.
”Seriously?” She squeals.
Clarke laughs and lays her head on Bellamy’s shoulder. “Seriously.” Her uncle winks, grinning impishly all the while.
“Prove it,” Mallory demands. “Kiss her.”
“I thought kissing was gross?” Clarke asks.
“Only because mom and dad do it way too much.”
Bellamy wrinkles his nose. “They do, don’t they?” He grins when Clarke elbows him in the side, then catches her chin and plants a swift kiss on her mouth in a way that makes it clear it’s nowhere near the first time nor the last. She sinks into him a little, her eyes drifting shut as her hand grasps his elbow. She’s pink when they pull back. Pink, and happy.
Mallory is practically bouncing. “For how long?”
Clarke bites her lip, looking almost like a teenager caught red-handed. “Two months.”
”Two months!!” She contains the shriek at the last second, though it comes out pretty shrill all the same.
They both shoot her identical grins. Clarke explains, “It was my idea. I wanted to take it slow, without too many nosy eyes or ears. You can understand that, right sweetie?”
Of course Mallory understands. It’s actually very fitting. Though, she can’t help but be put out that she didn’t catch on sooner. She doesn’t realize she said that last part out loud until her uncle taps her nose.
“You’re smarter than all of us combined, Mal,” he says. “I’m sure you’d have been the first to figure it out anyways.”
She considers that. “You’re right. I totally would have,” she declares.
“Sorry to ruin your chances of that badge, though.”
“Actually,” Clarke says slowly, “maybe not.” She looks at Bellamy. “We were going to tell O soon anyways, right? Why not let her think the plan worked? She’s happy, Mallory gets her badge—it’s a win-win for everyone.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You know she’s going to rub that in our faces the rest of our lives.”
“She was going to do that anyways,” Clarke replies, and Mallory giggles. It’s true, after all.
Bellamy grins crookedly. “What do you say, munchkin? Want to be part of one more plot?”
~~~~~~~~~
She returns from the trip practically giddy. Her mother greets them in the driveway, grabbing Kai in a quick embrace before he runs off. Then Mallory’s being scooped up into a bear hug, squeezed tight as her feet leave the ground.
“Mom, I can’t breathe,” she complains.
“You’ll be fine,” comes the muffled answer. Then, louder: “She’s mine for the week! Don’t even try to steal her away!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Bellamy yells back. “Bye Mal!”
“Be good, sweetie!” That’s Clarke, leaning out the window of Bellamy’s truck. He slides back in and cups her neck, bringing her close for a kiss while her mom’s back is turned.
Mallory grins, then lets her mom pull her inside, eager to tell her of their adventures. She sits at the kitchen counter, digging into leftover pie while she speaks. Her mother takes in every detail with an approving murmur, occasionally butting in with a question or two of her own. Finally, her mom rests her elbows on the counter and arches an eyebrow.
“And how did your Cupid Badge strategy turn out?”
She sits up straighter, readying the story as planned. She relays everything, from her uncle’s wistful stares to their teasing to Clarke stealing his hat, to the story Clarke chose to tell the first night—here, her mother’s eyes widen and her jaw drops.
“Those little devils! Bell always says he was busy working and barely saw her!” Her eyes narrow thoughtfully as she props her chin on her hand. “Continue.”
Mallory relates the tea bags and the suggestion for Bellamy to be a model for Clarke - to which her mom offers a high five - before finally relating her failed attempt at romance for her uncle. A bit of guilt creeps in as she explains how her hasty actions lead to Clarke’s injury. Her mom clasps her hand firmly, squeezing until she looks up from where she’s been tracing invisible patterns into the counter.
“Your Aunt Clarke is one of the toughest people I know. Don’t you worry about her. She’ll be back to normal in no time, alright?” She kisses her forehead gently. “And honestly it scares me too much to think about what could have happened if she hadn’t gone after you so quick, so just count it as a lesson learned, sweetie. I promise we’ll take good care of her.”
A gleam enters her eyes. “How’d your Uncle Bell take it?”
“He stayed with her the rest of the trip. Like her shadow,” Mallory says. “Carried her the whole way back, too.”
“Carried who back?”
They both turn to find her dad in the entranceway, suspicion on his face as he looks at her mom. Mallory jumps off the stool, racing over for a hug. He chuckles and relaxes, ruffling her hair.
“I take it you had a good time?”
“The best,” she sighs.
From behind, her mother pipes up. “Clarke did something to her ankle. Bell's taking her to the hospital now for an x-ray.”
“Again? Jesus.” Her dad is shaking his head when she looks up. “Your Aunt Clarke is the clumsiest girl I’ve ever known.”
Even though she wants to correct him, Mallory bites her tongue. Her mom comes to the rescue. “You can scold her yourself when they come by tomorrow. Mal, your choice of dinner tonight. Dad’s cooking.” She winks. “What would you like?”
And that’s that. The evening passes quickly with her parents, and after a lot of staring at the constellations on her ceiling, she finally drifts off in the comfort of her own bed.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next day, her uncle stops by with Clarke in tow. Mallory runs to the window in time to see him lift her out of the passenger seat and set her on the ground ever so gently, kissing her cheek in plain sight. Clarke seems to be permanently pink at this point, though her smile says she’s okay with that. There’s a black boot adorning her left foot.
“Well well well.”
Mallory starts and glances up to see her mom peeking through the blinds above. She grins at Mallory and heads for the door, swinging it open. “Clarke, we’re gonna have to put you in a bubble so you don’t keep giving my big brother a heart attack,” she says sweetly.
Mallory giggles into her palm as her uncle makes a rude gesture.
“Now now, be nice,” her mom pretends to pout. Bellamy is first through the door, Clarke following. “You guys are staying for lunch, right? Lincoln should be back soon. I know he wants to examine that foot for himself.”
Clarke nods and waves Mallory over for a hug. They wait until her mom strides down the hall, and then Bellamy crouches, pulling something from his pocket.
“Got a surprise for you, Mal. Close your eyes and hold out your hand.”
After a glance at Clarke, who winks, she does as he says. Something slips over her wrist, and then there’s a small snap. She opens her eyes. A thin bracelet encircles her wrist, at the center of which is a gleaming silver arrow. Speechless, she looks at her uncle in surprise.
He smiles. “Consider this our private cupid badge." Her mouth drops open, and she covers his face in kisses until he chuckles and says, “Thank your Aunt Clarke, she’s the one who picked it out.”
Mallory throws herself at Clarke next, hearing Bellamy nonchalantly add, “What? It has a ring to it.” She can practically feel Clarke roll her eyes, but she doesn’t deny it either.
She skips down the hall, but pauses at the corner to peek back. Bellamy has taken Clarke into his arms, whispering something into her ear that makes her turn scarlet and swat his shoulder. Laughing, he pulls her into a hug until she’s on her tiptoes, arms curled tightly around his neck.
Mallory nearly shrieks in surprise when a hand closes around her mouth, pulling her out of sight just in time. Turning, she meets her mom’s sparkling eyes.
“Well done, munchkin.”
She grins and slaps her mom’s hand in a high five, deciding maybe some secrets are worth keeping after all.