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The whole thing seems so innocuous when Raven first brings it up.
"So, me and Monty think there need to be Bond boys."
"Like--stocks and bonds?" Clarke asks.
Raven looks at her like she's trying to figure out if she's joking, and then huffs and flops back on Clarke's bed. "No. Jesus, why would I mean that? Like, James Bond. You know how he has all those girls who hang out wearing bikinis and being really unconvincing scientists? We think that needs to happen. But with guys. So, do you want to help?"
"I feel like I'm only experiencing half this conversation," Clarke says, finally putting away her anatomy homework. This happens a lot when Raven comes back from visiting Monty; marijuana is usually involved. "How am I helping?"
"Monty and I are gonna do a lady-Bond movie for our film class final project. Do you want to be the lead actress?"
It's spring of her senior year of college; Clarke is already accepted into grad school, and while she has a pretty tough workload, it's spring of her senior year of college. Which means it's one of her last chances to do stupid college shit, like starring in an inadvisable action movie with her best friends just because she can.
"How hot is your Bond boy gonna be? Can I have a Bond girl too? Just, like, awesome bisexual Bond who does all the things. And by things I mean people. And by does I mean--does."
Raven grins. "Obviously. I mean, we're gonna try to entirely avoid the male gaze, but sure, you can make out with a girl or something." She clucks her tongue. "Haven't cast the Bond boy yet, but don't worry. You know I've always got your back for eye candy."
Given the two of them met because they were dating the same guy without knowing it, Clarke supposes she does have to trust Raven's judgement, when it comes to hot guys.
"Then, yeah," says Clarke, reopening her anatomy book. "I'm in."
*
There is, apparently, a lot of prep work to be done with making a movie, even if it's only half-an-hour long and starring random people Raven and Monty know. Raven and Monty are both the kind of overachievers who will get really, really into things, which means that Monty has been feverishly working on a script, while Raven, assisted by Jasper and Wick, is putting together stunts that would put any legitimate Hollywood production to shame.
"I really would like to keep all my body parts," Clarke says, watching Raven and Jasper sketch out a pretty impressive explosion that she's going to have to escape. "Even the ones you don't think are important, like my eyebrows."
"God, I burn my eyebrows off one time," Raven grumbles. "I knew they were important, it just kind of happened anyway."
"Eyebrows, hair, limbs--I want all of those to survive this movie."
"It's like you don't even care about art," Jasper says.
"It is just like that," Clarke agrees.
Most of the time, she forgets about the project. It's the beginning of the semester and she has other things to do; filming won't be starting for a while, and aside from a few genuinely terrifying questions from Raven along the lines of "How heavy could a Bond boy be? Like, if you needed to carry him on your back, how long could you do it if he was, like, 175 pounds?" and "Have you ever repelled down a building?" and "How much of a lead would you need on a fireball to outrun it?" (and, seriously, who has that information readily available? How does anyone know what resources they would need to outrun a fireball?), Clarke basically doesn't have to be involved in the proceedings. It will probably be genuinely cool and badass, and she's broadly excited, but she thinks she's probably happier not having too many specifics on the whole thing. She can't be nervous if she doesn't know what's happening.
"Did you ever meet Bellamy?" Raven asks, about a week before filming is supposed to start.
"Who?"
"Bellamy Blake? I slept with him after the Finn thing."
Clarke shakes her head. "Not ringing a bell, no."
"Awesome, get dressed."
"Are you setting me up with your ex?"
"Ex is a very strong word," Raven says, rooting through Clarke's dresser and throwing some clothes at her. Raven doesn't think Clarke can dress herself, and the evidence is probably on Raven's side on this one. "But no, I want him to be your Bond boy, so you should come and be hot and awesome in his general direction to convince him it'll be an excellent time."
"You don't think your project speaks for itself?"
"He's also a bartender and I also want to get drunk."
"You hooked up with a bartender as part of your Finn spiral?" Clarke asks, dubious.
"He's cool, okay? Come on. Get dressed and come get your boy."
Clarke puts up token protests, but she doesn't really want to be doing her homework, and Raven buying her drinks while she tries to talk some random dude she hooked up with once into being eye candy in an over-the-top student-made action movie actually sounds like a lot of fun. So she puts on the clothes Raven picked out--which, if they are trying to avoid the male gaze in the movie, maybe Raven should not be dressing Clarke up in low-cut tops and short skirts to win over her love interest. Just a thought.
Still, it does promise to be a completely bizarre evening, and this is definitely what college is all about.
The bar is small and dark, the kind of place Raven goes when she is angry and wants to beat guys who are three times her size at drinking contests, which explains both why Clarke has never been there before and why she was there after the whole Finn debacle. The guy behind the bar is, granted, very attractive, with curly black hair and dark eyes, so at least Raven has good instincts on this. Clarke doesn't know exactly what a Bond boy is or what it entails, but he seems like he'd be a pretty good one.
"Do you have a real ID yet, or am I just pretending your shitty fake ones fool me?" the bartender--Bellamy Blake--asks, glancing at Raven and then giving Clarke a quick once-over. "Oh good, you brought an underage friend. Awesome."
"You know I'm twenty-two, shut up," Raven says, cheerful, and flashes her ID at him. "Sleeping with a nineteen-year-old isn't creepy. You're not that old."
"Thanks, I feel so much better." He glances back at Clarke. "How about you?" Clarke pulls her own license out and hands it over, watches as Bellamy examines it closely; apparently Raven damaged his professional pride, getting one by him. Finally satisfied, he returns it and asks Raven, "So, how many shots do you want?"
"We're getting beer, actually. Two Coronas."
"Coronae. It's Latin, heathen. Does this mean you're not an alcoholic anymore? Congratulations."
"Shut up, I was never an alcoholic. I need your help with something, actually."
"Is it a threesome? Are you guys sure you're both legal?"
"You wish. I'm making a movie. A non-porn movie, Jesus Christ, Blake. Get your mind out of the gutter," she adds, when he opens his mouth. "Clarke is gonna be Jane Bond."
"Is that actually my character's name? I never agreed to that." Bellamy snorts a laugh, sliding Clarke her beer with an approving smile, and Clarke rolls her eyes in Raven's direction. She figures both of them allying in thinking Raven is vaguely ridiculous is probably as good a way as any of convincing him to sign onto their project.
"Take it up with Monty, he's the writer." She takes a long swig of beer. "Come on, Blake. You totally want to get really objectified."
"I get objectified all the time," he says. "You act like this is some exciting new thing for me." His eyes flick back to Clarke. "How'd she talk you into this?"
"She told me I got to be badass lady James Bond," Clarke says. "She didn't really need to do much persuading. That's every girl's dream."
"Fair enough. So, what exactly do I have to do here? I don't have a ton of spare time, you know. I'm in school too."
"What are you studying?" Clarke asks, and Raven gives her an unreadable look. Clarke glares back; Raven usually deserves it.
"I'm getting my Masters," he says. "Teaching."
"What do you want to teach? Latin?"
"History. High school." He gives her a wry smile. "Hopefully no parents ever go on Facebook, discover I used to be a bartender, and get me fired. But I figure it's safer than stripping, in terms of questionable ways to pay my tuition." He frowns at Raven. "Am I stripping in your movie?"
Raven grins. "So you agree you're going to be in my movie."
"Am I hypothetically stripping in your movie," he corrects.
"Like I said, I'm not the writer. But I think you're just shirtless and wet a lot."
"Huh. And what kind of time commitment am I looking at?"
"The next few weekends," Raven says. "Weekends only, maybe a couple weeknights. We can work around your schedule for your scenes."
"Is there compensation involved?"
"Are you kidding? You know I'm as poor as shit," Raven says, at the same Clarke says, "Fifty bucks a day." They both turn to look at her, and she turns feels herself flush.
"You guys need to get your stories straight," Bellamy says, sounding amused.
"If you're paying your way through grad school, you deserve some compensation," she mutters, mostly to her beer.
"You can just give me fifty bucks for the whole thing," he says, with a smile. "To cover my legal fees if any of my students' parents ever see pictures of me shirtless and wet in amateur porn."
"So, that's a yes?" Raven presses.
He's still smiling at Clarke. "That's a yes."
*
Bellamy's night off is Tuesday, so that's the first night they film with him. Clarke has been thinking about him kind of an embarrassing amount, not that--well, he's just hot and sarcastic and wants to be a history teacher, which is cute, and they hung out for a while after he agreed to be in the movie and chatted about grad school and TV and movies and Bellamy's very detailed opinions on the Discworld novels, so of course she wants to see him again. It was fun.
Raven is incredibly smug about the whole thing, so Clarke does her best to ignore her completely. And even leaving aside the Bellamy factor, she's excited about the movie. She's too young to be a convincingly experienced spy, so it's kind of an origin story, a bright young college student getting sucked into the world of international espionage by way of some of nuclear-physicist Bellamy's files, which she ends up with after a meet-cute at a coffee shop where they accidentally switch thumb drives.
"Okay, Jane Bond is a little questionable, as names go, but at least you're not Doctor Richard Morecock," Bellamy remarks. He's clearly trying to sound annoyed, but he can't keep the smile off his face. His wardrobe consists of the most stereotypical nerd clothing they could find, to contrast with the later scene where he's shirtless and wet and ripped and emerging from the ocean like a Greek god. Clarke gets the idea behind it, but it's kind of questionable, just because half of his dorky scientist clothes are Monty's, and way too small for him, so she's not sure the contrast is totally there. Not that she's complaining.
Raven also had a fake pair of glasses for him, but he just flushed, looked sidelong at Clarke, and offered to take out his contacts. So those are real, and they keep sliding down his nose, which is kind of adorable.
Overall, Clarke's a big fan of film-making, so far.
"Yeah, but you are a doctor," Clarke points out. "So at least you've got that going for you."
"I do have that," he agrees. "Did you know we have to outrun an explosion on Saturday?"
"You should have seen them doing the math for that. Monty and Jasper made me run laps and time me so they could determine how much of a head-start I needed."
"Jesus. I should have held out for more compensation."
"I'll buy you a drink after we finish," Clarke says, absent, and only belatedly realizes it sounds kind of--flirty. Like she's buying him a drink.
He doesn't seem to notice, though. "You better. I'm definitely going to be traumatized."
She pats his arm. "It's okay, Dr. Morecock. I'm here to rescue you."
He snorts and rolls his eyes. "My hero."
*
The movie is actually really fun, even more than she expected. She has the most scenes, as the star, and she gets to do all sorts of ludicrous, awesome stunts, which are all a blast, both figuratively and literally. And they get a couple takes for the gag reel where her friend Lincoln does the same scenes while wearing a horrible blonde wig, to make it look like she has a really unconvincing stunt double.
As a bonus, Raven's friend Anya comes in to be a femme fatale trying to convince Clarke to betray her country with her feminine wiles. Monty's done pretty well making it sexy without being, well, gross, and she gets to make out with a pretty girl, which is always fun.
Her favorite scenes are still the ones with Bellamy, which she tries to pretend is because he's the only one he doesn't see on other social occasions, and not because she has a stupid crush on him. But she gives up on that after about two hours of filming and just admits that, yes, he's very attractive and very fun and she's kind of pissed at Raven for not introducing them sooner.
They have a good deal of downtime on the weekend shoots, while Raven, Monty, Jasper, and Wick reset whichever weird stunts they're doing, so she gets to know her costar pretty well. He's twenty-five, has a younger sister named Octavia who's nineteen, and lives with her and his best friend Miller in a small house pretty close to campus. He has a year left in his masters' program, and when she mentions she'll be starting her own program in the fall, he's full of genuine, excellent advice about it.
Raven is really, really smug.
"I knew he was the perfect Bond boy," she says. "Just remember, this is not porn. You can't start humping him on screen."
"Only one of us has slept with him, and it's not me," Clarke points out.
"Only one of us has slept with him so far. You still have plenty of time. You guys can totally make this into an off-screen romance. He spent like half an hour making me swear up and down your ID was real, so you know he's interested."
Clarke laughs. "Yeah?"
"He got suspicious because your license says you're twenty-one and you said you're a senior, so I had to explain the whole rich, beautiful genius who skipped a year of school thing to you. I'm wing-manning you so hard. You better show my movie at your wedding."
"There are a lot of weird assumptions tied up in that statement. We're not even dating, why do you think we're getting married? Do you really think my wedding is going to be the best place to get exposure for your movie? Who shows movies at weddings?"
"Okay, answer one, because you two are ridiculous and flirting all the time, I've never seen you like this, you're totally marrying him. Two, you're rich, I bet your family knows at least one famous producer you could invite to your wedding. Three, you do, because you will owe me for setting you up with your hot husband. Through my movie. Which you will show. At your wedding. Boom."
"You really do have this all figured out."
"I'm a visionary." Her phone buzzes, and she grins. "Oh, hey, we're ready for the beach scene. Are you ready for the beach scene? Monty sent me a picture of Bellamy's wardrobe, so I can guarantee you are not ready for the beach scene."
"I can't believe I agreed to this," Clarke grumbles, and follows Raven to the car.
The beach scene might be the most gratuitous scene ever put to film. Well, okay, the most gratuitous scene of a guy ever put to film; Monty and Raven still like to get drunk and complain about that scene with the woman in her underwear in Star Trek: Into Darkness, and Clarke is pretty sure that's how they came up with this movie in the first place, but whatever. She has never seen a guy get exploited this hard in a movie. The beach scene does, at least technically, contribute to the plot, in that it's when Jane Bond finds Dr. Richard Morecock to ask him about the files she discovered on his thumb drive and the many government secrets contained therein, but there is really no reason it has to take place at the beach. Nor is there any reason they have to spend like three minutes (a full tenth of the movie) watching Bellamy get out of the water. Clarke isn't exactly opposed, in theory, she just wants it on the record that she thinks the scene is ridiculous, unnecessary, and gratuitous. And she will watch every single take they do of it. And watch Raven edit it. And then feel slightly bad about herself.
But only slightly.
"I hear your wardrobe is absurd," she remarks to him. She gets to wears jeans and a t-shirt and look completely normal; Bellamy is wearing Monty's Superman bathrobe until they're ready to shoot, both for modesty and because it's kind of windy out and he was getting cold waiting for them.
"Yeah, Raven and Monty said none of my bathing suits were small enough and we went and bought a new one. It was like a very embarrassing and inappropriate shopping montage from a 90s chick flick."
"I can't believe I wasn't invited."
"Raven wanted your reaction to be genuine. And caught on camera."
"I have no idea why I'm friends with her," she grumbles, and Bellamy grins.
"I want it on camera too. I'm looking forward to it."
Monty is, for the first time since this whole thing started, actually a good friend, because he gestures for Bellamy before Clarke has to respond.
"Showtime," he says, and he actually looks a little nervous.
Clarke pats him on the shoulder. "Break a leg."
"Are you still going to respect me after this?"
"I don't really respect you now, so you have literally nothing to lose."
"Thanks, that really helps." He gives her one final look, inscrutable, and then jogs over to Monty.
"You guys are gonna make out so much," Raven says. "Which is good, because I think it would be weird if I hooked up with him again, and he's straight, so Monty can't do it. This is all on you."
"Thanks for being really weird about this," Clarke says. "It's really--"
She loses any even vague idea of what she was going to say, because Bellamy shrugs off the robe and even from a decent distance, his swimsuit is tiny and Clarke's brain stutters to a complete standstill at the sight of it. He's not even wet yet, so it's going to get worse before it gets better. Or--maybe better. It's hard for her to really figure out how to feel about the situation. Lust isn't generally an emotional state she can place on the negative/positive scale. It's not bad, it's not good, it's just overwhelmingly hot.
"It will be tragic if no one hits that, Clarke," Raven says. "Do it for us."
"Yeah, if I do that, it's going to be for me. Entirely for me. All mine."
"You realize we're filming you right now, right?"
"There is no way you're using any dialogue on this scene. You're going to play--I don't know. Monty will find the perfect look at how hot this dude is song to play over whatever is happening right now."
"Shut up, he's getting in the water," Raven says, and they both watch with completely unsubtle appreciation as Bellamy gets himself wet so he can triumphantly emerge from the water. Which he does. Monty is probably zooming in so they'll be able to see individual drops of water beading on his chest.
"I might owe you forever," Clarke admits.
"Right?"
Bellamy tosses them a smug look once he's on the beach, totally breaking character, but he's probably earned it. "Isn't Clarke supposed to be over here so we can do the scene?"
"Fuck," Clarke says, running over, which puts her close to him. He's very, very tan, and all his freckles are standing out. And he's wearing tiny swim trunks and Clarke isn't trying to check him out, it's just more difficult not to. There is no part of his body she can look at that is not checking him out.
"Actually, I think you need to do that again," Raven says, shameless. "We need to get a couple different angles."
"Uh huh," says Bellamy, sounding amused.
"Do it slower this time."
"You're a really serious filmmaker."
"Serious filmmakers are fucking perverts," she says. "At least I'm not Woody Allen. Now do it again, and drip more."
"Thanks for the note." He flashes Clarke a grin and then jumps back in the water, and she does her best to look serious and focused as he does the scene again, slower, because Jane Bond is supposed to be smooth and cool in the face of--Dr. Richard Morecock.
She might owe Raven, but she's also going to murder her.
He does the scene five more times, until Jasper points out that unless they do the actual dialogue soon, they're going to lose the light, so Bellamy gets to actually get out of the water, and Clarke somehow manages to remember her lines and successfully deliver them. She mostly talks to his chest, which is a compromise between meeting his eyes, like she's supposed to, and staring at his dick, like she wants to. It feels like an accomplishment, at least, albeit a dubious one.
"Are you freezing?" she asks, once they wrap.
"You tell me, you're the one who was staring at my nipples," he says, which she absolutely deserves. "It was actually nice in the water, I'm glad Raven made me do it ten billion times."
"It was for artistic reasons."
"I could tell." He bites his lip. "Would it be pathetic or smooth if I asked if you wanted to help me warm up? My sister says all my pickup lines are just sad."
"It might be because you're trying them out on your sister."
"I knew I was doing something wrong."
The smile he gives her is hopeful and a little crooked, and Clarke feels a swoop of fondness for him. He's--she really likes him a lot. For totally non-shallow reasons, even. And shallow ones, obviously, but she doesn't have to feel totally guilty about it. She is genuinely into him on like every level.
"I wouldn't say it's totally smooth," she says. "But I'd definitely say yes, if that makes you feel better."
His smile upgrades to a grin. "So much better. Come on, I'm fucking freezing."
No one seems even the tiniest bit surprised when Bellamy takes Clarke's hand and tugs her toward the parking lot; Raven gives her a smirk and a thumbs up, but the rest of the crew just wave, cheerful, like Bellamy and Clarke always leave set hand-in-hand so they can go hook up. Again, she's not offended no one is surprised, and it's not like she wants them to jeer or anything, but she is definitely expecting high-fives later.
"I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt and assuming you also like me as a person," he remarks.
"Yeah, definitely. Not as much as I like you as an object, but it's really close."
He laughs and traps her up against his car, all cool skin and warm smile. "As long as it's close," he teases, and leans down to press his lips against hers.
His hair is dripping, little trails of seawater all down his face, and his lips are wet and taste like salt. Clarke moans, low, and tangles her hand into his damp curls, keeping his close as she opens her mouth for him. She can feel goosebumps on his skin, and he must still be cold, but he doesn't seem to care at all. She can feel him getting hard against her, no surprise there, considering the whole bathing suit situation, and that's what finally gets her to reluctantly pull away.
"I'm supposed to be warming you up, not letting you freeze to death while we make out against your car. Put on your shirt and drive somewhere with a bed."
He laughs and nudges his nose under her jaw, affectionate, before he steps away. "So, does this mean you blowing me while I drive is out of the question? My car has heating, so, you know. I'll definitely won't die of hypothermia while you do it."
"I could be persuaded," Clarke says, and steals a final, quick kiss before sliding into shotgun.
He did do the beach scene like ten times. It's the least she can do.
*
Clarke ends up using Bellamy's fifty-dollar compensation to buy them takeout after they hook up at his place, and they eat it on his couch with her feet in his lap while they watch Jeopardy and he heckles the contestants.
"It's amazing you look like you do and act like this," she remarks. "You're the guy nerds dream of being."
"I have hidden depths," he agrees, and steals a dumpling from her.
It's a pretty awesome date, aside from being unofficial and having no specific expectation of a second date attached to it. Clarke had been sort of assuming it would naturally turn into something more, but when she goes to leave, Bellamy just pecks her on the mouth and says he'll see her on Tuesday for filming, which is not the most encouraging way to end an otherwise fantastic evening.
"Have you called him?" Raven asks on Monday. It's one of those sensible, practical suggestions that it's hard to believe comes from a woman who wants Clarke to repel down the side of the natural sciences building with Bellamy on her back tomorrow.
"I'm going to see him tomorrow," she points out. "So, no. What am I supposed to say?"
"I'm terrible at casual sex and I like you and I already agreed we were gonna play Raven's movie at our wedding so we're dating now."
"How are you still single?"
"By choice." She snags Clarke's Coke and steals a sip. "Seriously. Just call him. He's probably trying to play it cool and being an idiot."
She still has no idea what to say, so she puts it off and follows Raven to edit the beach scene instead. This mostly involves the two of them watching all the footage Raven has, twice, then high-fiving on having both hit that, and then Clarke figures it's time to text him, because she will really regret it if she doesn't try to make this work.
Raven and I are objectifying you.
Her heart skips a beat when he calls about thirty seconds after she sends the text, and she takes a minute to get her breathing under control before picking up.
"Is that a euphemism for sex?" he asks.
"No. She's editing footage, I'm watching and not contributing in any way."
"I think your contribution is starring in the movie. You did your part." There's a pause, and then he adds, "My sister says I might have focused too hard on being cool yesterday and not enough on being an idiot with a huge crush on you. Her words, not mine."
Clarke feels herself starting to grin. "Is your sister your only source of romantic advice? I'm starting to see why you're still single."
"Sometimes I ask Miller, but he's even worse at dating than I am." There's a pause, and then he says, "Did you get the part where I said I liked you?"
"I got it, yeah. I like you too." She worries her lip. "Are you at work?"
"Yeah, until midnight."
"Can I come hang out?"
He lets out a soft laugh that sounds involuntary, and Clarke feels another tug of affection.
"Yeah, please."
When she leaves the next morning, he presses her up against his front door for a long, deep kiss, tells her he'll see her that night, and she's almost late for class because she can't pull herself away.
It's a huge improvement on the last time; she's still grinning about it when they start filming.
*
Raven and Monty are in a serious senior seminar for serious film students, and Clarke has trouble believing their professor actually approved Firmament of Oblivion: A Jane Bond Adventure as a legitimate project they are receiving credit for, but against all odds, it seems to be true. There's even a screening, at the local independent theater, with the other four films the class has produced. Clarke knows she's required to go--her best friend directed it, her very good friend wrote it, and she and her boyfriend are starring in it, she is absolutely required to go--but she's still mildly terrified.
"Is it gonna be creepy if I come too?" Bellamy asks. He sounds genuinely worried, not like he just wants to get out of it.
"Why would it be creepy?"
"I'm not a college student?"
"You're in the movie, of course you're allowed to come. It'll probably be creepier for you. Imagine how big your junk is gonna look on a movie screen."
"That's every guy's dream. A room full of people appreciating how great I look mostly naked." He glances at his sister. Clarke and Octavia aren't that close yet, but she seems generally awesome. Anyone who makes fun of Bellamy as much as Octavia does is okay in Clarke's book. "Maybe you shouldn't come."
"I'll just close my eyes and make gagging noises during that part," she says. "Someone has to keep your ego in check, and Clarke will be too busy drooling."
"She's not wrong," Clarke says, bright.
"Great," Bellamy says. As usual, he's trying to sound grumpy, but his smile breaks through. "This sounds like a really fun evening. I'm excited."
"We're gonna be stars," Clarke says. "It'll be great."
And the weirdest part is that it is. Raven and Monty worked their asses off on the movie, and it shows. Clarke manages to come off as a cool, competent, charming badass getting sucked into a new life as a globe-trotting spy, and, okay, Bellamy mostly comes off as a piece of eye candy playing a very unrealistic scientist who keeps changing his area of research as the circumstances demand, but he's incredibly pretty and has enough natural charisma to make the part charming in spite of (purposefully) not really having a personality.
Plus, everyone is whistling and jeering so loudly during his beach scene, they can't even hear Octavia's fake vomiting. And, of course, despite his assurances earlier, Bellamy only manages to watch about half a second of the overly long montage (set to some weird remix of "Satisfaction" by the Rolling Stones, which Monty probably made himself) before he buries his face against Clarke's shoulder until it's over.
It's a rousing success, if Clarke does say so herself. They even get a standing ovation.
"So, how does it feel to hopefully usher in a new age of male objectification?" Clarke asks as they're walking back to his place hand-in-hand.
"I got like fifteen numbers. And I was trying to hide behind you the whole time, so that's just the ones who were willing to hit on me while I was very obviously with my girlfriend."
"Maybe they figured it was a PR stunt. You know, stars dating is great for publicity."
"And if there's one thing this half-hour long movie made for a college film seminar needs, it's publicity," he teases.
"Hey, this movie is doing cool, important stuff. With gender and shit."
"Very important stuff with gender and shit," Bellamy agrees, solemn, and Clarke elbows him.
"I'm just saying, that was meaningful. We should start a series."
"Nope," he says. "No way."
"What, you don't want to come back for--I don't know, I can't make names as ridiculously incoherent as Monty can. Fortress of Candor: Jane Bond 2."
"Terrible name." He looks down at her. "I'm the Bond boy. I don't want a sequel, because if there's a sequel, I die in the first fifteen minutes to make room for your new love interest. Which I'm all for in terms of gender and shit, but personally, I'd like to think Jane Bond and Dr. Richard Morecock-Bond live happily ever after."
It's cute, and kind of sweet, so obviously the only appropriate response is mockery. "Come on, their hyphenated last name is definitely Bond-Morecock. I can't believe you fucked that up."
He laughs and puts his arm around her, and Clarke snuggles against his side. Octavia retches again, just to remind them she finds them disgusting. "Yeah, I'm ashamed of myself. Jane Bond and Dr. Richard Bond-Morecock love happily ever after."
"With his inappropriate, tiny swimwear."
"Obviously."
Clarke's arms tighten around his waist. "I'm still holding out for a five-movie deal. But I could live with happily ever after as a backup plan."
"As a backup plan," he agrees, and takes her home.