Archive of Our Own ^beta

Inasmuch as anyone can be prepared for a magical creature to appear in front of their eyes and tell them they need to help save the world from evil, Bellamy Blake is ready for it. Which basically means he has Hulu and Crunchyroll set up on Miller's old Wii, and his little sister really likes magical girl anime.

Okay, so he'd probably be more prepared for the whole thing if he was a girl, because magical boys are less of a thing, but it's the twenty-first century, so if some weird bug thing wants him to save the world, he's down. He can be a magical girl. As long as the terms and conditions check out.

"How do I know you're the good guy?" he asks the magical creature. It looks like one of those bumblebee squeaky toys you get to keep your dog from eating your furniture.

"What?" it asks, confused.

"How do I know I'm on the good side with this? No offense, but I don't exactly think of magic bees as the ultimate moral authority."

The bug blinks at him a few more times, and Bellamy crosses his arms and stares it down. If he's going to ally himself to a bug with magical powers, he's going to ally himself to the right bug.

"You're fighting against the darkness! A great evil which will consume the land!"

"You could just be racist. I'm not going to become a weird racist magical girl."

"I can't believe you're the chosen one," says the bug.

"I can't believe you just expected the chosen one to believe you had the world's best interests at heart. I've seen Madoka, okay?"

The bug frowns. "What?"

Apparently it's not as familiar with magical girl anime than Bellamy is. So at least he has the advantage here. "It's a show," he says. "Do you have an argument for me or not?"

And he's really planning to wait for something good, a genuine justification of why he should trust an animate dog toy. This is a few levels past regular stranger danger.

But then Octavia screams. She's at the park, finishing up soccer practice, and she's screaming.

"It's the evil force!" the bug squeaks, and when Bellamy turns, darkness has fallen over the area, a great cloud of it, obscuring his view of the field, the team, his sister. "You need to transform!"

If there's one way to get Bellamy on your side, it's to be on the same side as his baby sister.

"Yeah," he says. "Just tell me how."

And just like that, he's a magical girl.

*

It's kind of broadly cool, being a cartoon superhero. His outfit is pretty embarrassing--if he had gotten to pick what bug his costume was based off, he probably would have gone for dragonfly over bumblebee, or at least a wasp, if he's staying in the family of things that can sting you--but aside from that, he has almost no complaints. He has magical superpowers that let him seal evil, a wand that can shoot pointy shit and stun people, and a sense of purpose outside of helping his mom at the store and taking care of his sister. Bellamy's never really had something of his own before, and being the fucking chosen one, well, that's pretty amazing.

Which is why he's pissed when Lioness shows up.

He's been on the job (if pro-bono vigilantism can really be called a job) for about a month when she drops down beside him as he surveys the monster he's about to take out and says, "So what are we dealing with?"

Bellamy startles and nearly falls off the roof. "What?"

She flashes him a grin. Her costume, like his, covers most of her face and head, leaving just her mouth exposed, not enough of her features to have any idea what she might look like as a real person. The outfit itself is tawny gold, with cat ears and a tail, and he's not trying to check her out, but there's a lot of tight material, and he's a straight seventeen-year-old guy who hasn't had a girlfriend in four months. There's only so much self control in the world.

"I'm here to help," she says.

"Like Sailor Mercury help or Tuxedo Mask help?" he asks, and she frowns.

"Sorry?"

"No one involved in this has watched enough anime," he grumbles. "You're obviously not ready for this kind of responsibility."

That just seems to amuse her further. "How much anime do you watch?"

"Normal amounts. Look, I don't need your help, okay? I've got this. I'm not just doing this for fun, I've got powers. You're going to get hurt."

She doesn't look particularly offended. "You're not the only one with powers," she says, pulling out her own wand, not quite the same as his, but related, letting the magic twine around her fingers. Bellamy feels his blood run cold. He should have seen this coming too. There's never just one magical girl. They always have--something. Friends. Allies.

"How'd they get you?" he asks.

Her smile is bright and genuine, like they're already a team; Bellamy hates her. "Who doesn't want to be a hero?"

"It's not all fun and games," he grumbles.

"So we should help each other out," she says. "Are you always this grumpy?"

"Yes," he says, and launches himself off the roof. She follows; she keeps up.

It's probably not actually a bad thing, having backup. But he doesn't need her. This is his gig.

"Should I really call you Bumblebee?" she asks, once they've defeated the monster and restored the poor citizen to his rightful self. "Or do you have something else you go by?"

Bellamy is admittedly not thrilled with the whole Bumblebee thing. If he'd gotten to choose his name, it would definitely not be that. But he's got the whole themed costume and themed weird mascot creature, so he's just going to lean into it. "Yup. Bumblebee. That's me." His eyes flick over her. "What are you, Kitty-Cat?"

That gets him his first scowl from her, which makes him like her a lot more. All the good cheer was getting on his nerves. "Lioness, thanks."

And just like that, he's back to not liking her, because, seriously, her nickname is so much more badass than his. It's unfair. Her outfit is just as dorky, but now they're Lioness and Bumblebee, and everyone is going to think he's the sidekick. Bumble is right there in his name.

"Just remember," he says, not looking at her. "I'm the team leader. You're Sailor Mercury."

"I still don't know what that means. But I'll see you soon, right?"

She sounds excited about it, so clearly he needs to work on being more of an asshole. Luckily, that seems like a totally achievable goal.

"I hope not," he says, and takes off.

"How did it go?" Harper chirps when he gets home. Even his stupid mascot has a better superhero name than he does. He'd be Harper over Bumblebee any day.

"I thought I was the chosen one."

"You are!"

He flops back on his bed, one arm over his eyes. She usually comes with him on his missions, but he had to go directly from his summer job today. He's fucking exhausted. "How come there's another chosen one?"

"Another?"

"Some magical girl named Lioness."

"Ohhhhh," says Harper, in a way that suggests this is not really a surprise for her.

"Thanks, helpful."

"You're my chosen one. But I'm not the only one who gets a choice."

"So are we rivals?" he asks, perking up. He could have a rival. Rival sounds so much better than ally. Maybe they have to fight for the fate of the universe. That would be perfect.

Harper ruins this dream in half a second. "Of course not! I love Monroe! I'm sure her choice is wonderful. The two of you will be fantastic allies. I'm so glad she's found someone."

"Yeah," Bellamy says. "So glad."

*

Lioness is--fine. She seems to think the more irritated he is with her, the more she should like him, which is not true at all, but at least she's competent. He's not convinced he really needs any help with this whole world-saving thing most days, but if nothing else, it's nice to know someone else is on the case when he's at work or otherwise occupied. He thinks she's about his age, which is kind of unfortunate; school is starting in a week or so, and if he's right, they'll both be spoken for for most of the day. It would be nice if heroism didn't make him fail out of high school.

It must be worrying her too, because it's only a few days later that she asks him, "How old are you?" He got a scrape on his arm and she insisted on looking at it; to his surprise, she seems to actually have some first-aid training.

"Why?"

"So I'll know to look out for your cheerful face in my class."

He thinks it over, but it seems pointless not to tell her. "Seventeen. I'll be a senior in high school."

"Me too."

"We probably don't go to the same school."

"Probably not."

"Are you a transfer student? The new hero in town is usually a transfer student in the anime."

"No, I've been here for a while." She pauses. "You know I could be the protagonist, right?"

"No way. I'm the protagonist."

"I'm just asking, are you a transfer student? Easy question. If you are, I'm totally the protagonist."

He has to smile, even if her immediate look of triumph makes him regret it. "I've lived here my whole life."

"We probably don't even go to the same school," she says. "Maybe we're both protagonists of totally different stories. That's how life works, right?"

"Deep."

"At least I don't base my entire worldview on anime."

"I didn't until a magical dog toy told me I was the chosen one. That's the kind of thing that makes you reevaluate your priorities, okay?"

She laughs. He has to admit that she has a nice laugh. Objectively speaking. "Trust me, I know." She nods once and pats his arm. "Okay, you're all set."

"Thanks."

She stands, stretches, and turns to go. "What are partners for?"

"We're not partners!" he calls after her.

"Have fun at school, Bumblebee!" she calls back, not even looking at him.

"I like her," Harper declares, settling on his shoulder.

"Shut up."

*

The best thing about Bellamy's senior year is that Clarke Griffin is ninety percent of his classes, including homeroom. He's always known of Clarke and, okay, has had kind of a crush on Clarke, ever since he got over hating her on principle, but they've never really spent much time together. Girls like Clarke don't interact with guys like Bellamy, which was why he'd disliked her to begin with. Clarke is rich and beautiful and popular, and Bellamy is kind of quiet and anti-social, on top of being poor. Clarke is an actual model. He was so ready to hate her.

But any time he actually talks to her, she's pretty cool. Not, again, that they're buddies or anything, but last year O was in a fight with some asshole bullies twice her size and Clarke helped her out, and since then he's paid more attention to her, noticed that she always seems to be on in a way that makes him ache a little for her. Clarke Griffin has a lot of admirers and very few friends, and it's a shame. He thinks she could probably use some friends. Which is rich coming from him, but he can't help it. He has a good feeling about her.

"Or you're a pathetic loser projecting onto a pretty girl because you're too incompetent to get a date," Miller says. Miller is Bellamy's best friend. He doesn't know why, exactly, but it's been long enough that he can't get out of it now.

"I vote for that one," adds Raven. She's his other best friend, but she started a blog tracking the movements and activity of Bumblebee and Lioness over the summer, so he's kind of terrified of her right now. If she finds out his secret identity, she might dissect him.

"Those aren't actually mutually exclusive," Bellamy says. "I can be creepy and right."

"Clarke is pretty cool," Raven grants. "We were lab partners. But last I heard she had a girlfriend, so don't get your hopes up."

"I'll try to contain myself," he says, dry, but then he's Clarke's lab partner, and he can't help a little thrill of excitement at the prospect.

Stupid crush.

"Hi, I'm Clarke," she says, offering her hand with a pleasant smile.

"I know," he says, and adds, "You helped my sister Octavia out last year," when the smile falters. That turns it into a full-on frown, but at least it seems to be confusion, not hurt. Everyone knows her, he's sure, but--he thinks she'll probably like this story. "She was getting bullied. Uh, she's twelve, brown hair, I'm pretty sure she was kicking one guy in the shins and biting another when you found her. She didn't shut up about you for a month."

That gets a surprised little laugh out of her, and Bellamy feels his own smile growing in response. Clarke Griffin is really fucking cute.

"You know, I do remember that. How's she doing?"

"Like I said, she's twelve, so half the time she wants to follow me around to feel like a grownup and the other half she doesn't want to be in the same area code as her dorky older brother. I can't wait for puberty to be over, honestly."

Clarke giggles, and then looks surprised at herself. "I had no idea," she says.

"No siblings?"

"No, just me."

"Wow. I can't even imagine."

"No?" she asks, cocking her head at him like she's genuinely curious.

"I was five when she was born. I don't really remember what it was like before I had a sister. She's always been there, following me around." He grins. "Driving me crazy, honestly."

"It sounds nice."

"Yeah? I must not be explaining it right."

Clarke laughs again. "No, I think you are. It sounds--it can be kind of lonely, being an only child. And don't even try to tell me you wouldn't miss her, it's so obvious."

"Yeah, you're right. Glad it's basically visible from space." He offers his hand. "I'm Bellamy, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Bellamy," she says, and she sounds like she really means it.

So, yeah. He's a little bit excited about his senior year. It's off to a great start.

*

It takes about two weeks before it starts to get bad, and to his unspeakable relief, Lioness brings it up first. "So, is this totally kicking your ass?"

He hands her a bottle of water; he still doesn't like her, but he doesn't want her passing out on him or anything. "What?"

"I don't know about you, but I've got school, homework, part-time job, and superheroics," she says, counting off on her fingers.

"No wonder Sailor Moon got such bad grades."

Lioness snorts. "Have I mentioned lately how much I appreciate your endless font of anime trivia?"

He yawns into his arm. "You have. I keep telling you, it's on Hulu. You could just watch it yourself."

"I like hearing you tell me stuff better." There's a pause, and then she leans her head on his shoulder. He stiffens for a sec, but--it's not bad. They're both worn out. "So Sailor Moon sucked at school?"

"She sucked before she started being Sailor Moon, but I assume that didn't help. The main girl on those shows is usually kind of ditzy and bad at school, but she makes up for it with the power of her loving heart or whatever. And then there's one smart sidekick and one angry sidekick. With additional sidekicks as necessary."

Lioness laughs again, snuggling against his side. Bellamy doesn't get a lot of pretty girls cuddling him, and it's kind of alarming. Plus, this is Lioness. He doesn't know anything about her as an actual person, but she wears tight spandex and pulls it off. He doesn't want to be shallow, but it's kind of unavoidable in this situation. "So you're the ditzy protagonist and I'm the smart sidekick? I could live with that. I don't want to be the ditzy protagonist."

"But I've got heart," he says, just to keep her laughing.

Shit, they're kind of friends, aren't they?

"Did you have a plan for how exhausted we are, or did you just want to complain?" he asks, before he can think too deeply about that.

"I'm not saying we need to exchange friendship bracelets or anything, but--we're a team by now, right?"

Some spiteful part of him wants to deny it, but he's honestly too tired for spite right now. And he does appreciate her, mostly. Bellamy Blake against the world is a cool idea and all, but there's a lot of world, and a lot less Bellamy Blake.

He could do worse than Lioness, as teammates go.

"Yeah," he says. "Why?"

"We could actually start working like one. Division of labor, cell phones to contact each other when we need backup, getting actual breaks and trusting the other one to deal with issues on our nights off. We could schedule this. I'm the smart one, remember?"

"You want cell phones?' he asks, surprised.

"What, you don't trust me with your number?"

"You run around in spandex and a mask using magic to kill monsters," he points out. "My mom warned me about people like you."

"Mm," she says. He thinks she might actually be falling asleep on him. "Pay as you go, if you want. Something cheap. Just--in case I need you."

The sentiment makes Bellamy's heart lodge in his throat, and suddenly he does hate it, the idea that Lioness might be in trouble and she'd have no way to get in touch with him.

"You think my squeaky toy can talk to your squeaky toy? Like, long distance."

"Your squeaky toy must be a lot nicer than mine. Monroe would bite me if I called her that."

"That's what you get for having a cat." He nudges her with his shoulder. "I can't take you home if you pass out, so stay awake. We still need a schedule."

"Let's both take tomorrow off," she says, through a yawn.

"Sure. I'll be on-call if Harper senses anything. We'll ask if they can talk. We'll meet up here on Friday and figure out an actual game plan when you're conscious."

"You don't have anything better to do on a Friday night?" she asks, rousing herself off and stretching. Her back pops so hard even he winces.

"Nope."

"Cool. Then it's a date, Bumblebee."

He winces again, for very different reasons. "Jesus. Can you just call me B or something? That feels less ridiculous."

"Bee?"

"Initials are cool, right?"

"Is that your real initial?"

"Nope."

"So you have a real name and it doesn't start with B," she muses.

He'd feel bad for lying to her, but--well, honestly, he just doesn't. They might be a team, but they're basically strangers. If she ever finds out his real name, he doubts she'll hold it against him.

"Who says I have a real name?" he asks, gruff, and Lioness grins.

"Okay, B. I'll see you Friday."

*

After a month, he'll admit Lioness had the right idea. Having a few nights a week off evil-doer patrol is actually great, gives him a chance to blow off steam without ruining his sleep schedule or academic life. He's got college applications to be worrying about, a billion scholarships to investigate while he tries to figure out which college will educate him and still leave him time to help out at the store and with Octavia, work and occasionally hanging out with friends and homework. Breaks are important.

Maybe he shouldn't have gone for the whole magical girl thing.

"Well," says Harper, pragmatic. "You know what they say. If you want something done, ask a busy person."

"Is that really a thing people say?" he asks. He's face down on his bed, because even with this new division of labor, he basically spends Saturday mornings pretending he will never have to leave his bed. It lasts until nine-thirty, when he goes down to open up the store.

"Benjamin Franklin," Harper says, prompt, and Bellamy swats at her.

"Thanks, squeaky toy. I hope that's on the SAT."

"You have to be downstairs in five minutes."

"I'm feeding you to an actual dog," he says, and gives himself a few more seconds before he rolls out of bed and pulls on some clothes. He only works the register on weekends during the school year, and it's really not bad. They don't open until ten on Saturdays and noon on Sundays, and it's not like there's ever a huge rush of people coming for sewing supplies and fabric repairs. Which is its own problem, but at least he gets to hang out, flirt with old ladies so they buy more needles than they need, and get some homework done. It could be worse.

He washes his face and grabs a banana on his way down, and he's about to start counting in when he sees there's a girl slumped against the window, shoulders sagging, clearly waiting for them to open. Which is weird.

Then he realizes it's not actually a girl, or, well, it is, but it's Clarke. Which is even weirder.

His friendship with Clarke has been progressing decently. He thinks she likes him pretty well, as random guys she sees at school go. She smiles at his jokes, has finally started relaxing around him in class, sometimes sits with him and Raven and Miller at lunch, but she's still a little distant, like she's waiting for the other shoe to drop.

So this is new.

He unlocks the door even though it's too early, and she looks about as surprised to see him as he is to see her. "Bellamy? What are you doing here?" He raises his eyebrows, and she flushes. "Right, working, obviously. Sorry."

"It's my mom's store," he says, offering her a smile. "We don't open for another twenty-five minutes, I was about to cash in. What's up?"

"Now I feel like an asshole," she says, rueful, and he smiles at her.

"Seriously, Clarke. I assume you weren't hanging around waiting to see me. Especially since you didn't know I was here."

She bites her lip in an incredibly distracting way. "Yeah, um--no, I feel like a douche for expecting special treatment just because I'm, you know--" She waves her hand. "Clarke Griffin."

"Well, I won't give you any. But you're still Clarke, so what do you need?" he asks again, and she finally gives him a genuine, if embarrassed, smile.

"I have a shoot at eleven and my cat shredded my outfit."

Bellamy chokes on a laugh. "What?"

"Not, you know, shredded, but sometimes companies give me clothes to wear to school and stuff, like, to promote their brand and I was supposed to wear this sweater for a shoot today and I left it on a chair in my room and my asshole cat shed all over it and then she did that--" She flexes her fingers demonstratively. "That kneading thing? And it's really delicate so it's--yeah. This was the closest place I could think of where I might be able to get it looked at. I didn't know you guys weren't open until ten. And then when I found out I just figured I'd hang out looking pathetic. Not my best plan."

"Weirdly, not that many people have Saturday morning clothing emergencies," he teases. "Do you have it?"

Clarke frowns. "What?"

"The sweater. Let me see."

"You?"

"If I can't handle it, I'll get my mom. But I've been working here since I was a kid, I've actually picked up some stuff. If it's just hair and claw marks, that should be pretty simple."

"Really?"

He just holds out his hand, expectant, and Clarke roots around in her bag, coming up with a delicate gray sweater. It probably looks great on her. The damage is minimal enough he never would have noticed, but it probably costs like five hundred dollars and she's going to be photographed in it, so he can see why Clarke is freaking out.

"Yeah, I've got this," he says. "Do you know how to cash in a register?"

"I assume you put cash in it," she says, dubious.

"Come over here. You can count the money while I get this done, okay?"

She looks dubious, but it's not like cashing in is hard; Bellamy tells her how much of each bill they should have, she verifies that they do and puts them into the register, and then she's at his shoulder, watching him repair the small holes the cat left.

"You're barely even doing anything," she says, but her voice is warm and she's close.

"Why do you think I said it wouldn't take long? I just didn't want to count the money."

"Yeah, that was really tough." She watches him in silence for a minute and then says, "Thanks," so soft he can barely hear it.

"No problem."

"I know it's a totally ridiculous crisis. Like--everything about it is stupid. But I don't like letting people down."

"Like I said, it's really no problem." He shakes the fabric out. "Uh, it'll be easier to get the hair off if it's on something. You want to wear it, or should I grab a dress form?"

"I've got it," says Clarke, shrugging off her blouse, leaving her in just a white camisole. Thankfully that doesn't last long, but then he's brushing hair off her sweater with a lint roller, which is also kind of a terrible idea. She has a lot of curves.

"What are you doing tonight?" he asks, even though he knows he shouldn't. She tenses, but just for a second.

"Family stuff. Why?"

"There's a B-movie marathon at the Twelfth Street Cinema, Raven and Miller and I are going. Thought you might be interested."

"I would be," she says, and it sounds genuine. "But I've got this shoot and then a dinner thing with my mom."

"Maybe next time," he says.

Her smile is real too. "Do you have my number?"

"No."

"Give me yours, I'll text you when I'm done, maybe I can catch the last show or something."

It's one of those things that is objectively not a big deal. Bellamy has a lot of people's phone numbers. This doesn't mean anything. But Clarke wants his number, and that's awesome. His phone is a piece of shit and his texting plan is expensive, but there's no way he's telling her that; he'll pay his mom back if she texts him a lot. Which she probably won't.

But she could.

He finishes off the sweater after they're done with phones, steps back to look her over. "I think you're good."

She checks herself in the mirror with a little twirl, and Bellamy tries not to smile. She just looks--happy. Pleased and uncomplicated, because of him. It's the best.

Stupid fucking crush.

"Thanks," she says, turning her smile on him, making him blush. "What do I owe you?"

"Fuck, I don't know. Nothing? All I did was rub your sweater and use a lint brush. We aren't even open."

"I think that's a sign I should pay you more, not less."

"Seriously, it's fine." He wets his lips. "If you make it to the movies, you can buy me some popcorn, okay?"

For a second, he thinks she's going to argue the point, but she finally just smiles again. "Thanks, Bellamy."

"You're welcome. Tell all your model friends to come to us for repairs and we're all set."

"I can do that." She worries her lip. "Could I hang out for a while? I budgeted more time for this and I don't really want to go home."

"Sure," he says. "You can help me with my homework."

And she does. She sits behind the register with him, charms all his regulars and deflects their questions about if she's his girlfriend, seems actually pretty relaxed and easy for an hour. Part of him wants to ask her what makes her so tired all the time, but he knows better. He'd rather just let her have this.

She pecks him on the cheek when she leaves, and he's in an awesome mood for the rest of the day.

Then Miller gets possessed by a monster at the movies.

He knew, of course, that the monsters he and Lioness were fighting were people; he's turned more than one person back to their original form. But he's never known any of them before. And he's with Raven, who of course isn't leaving, so he can't transform himself to help out. He's thinking about faking some sort of emergency with his phone when Lioness shows up, and he's never been so relieved to see anyone in his entire life.

Meanwhile, Raven is taking pictures of her.

"Seriously?" he hisses.

"What? She's good, she'll get Miller back." Raven actually waves Lioness over, and Bellamy kind of wants to die of embarrassment. It's not like they can help; Lioness has this.

She comes over anyway, eyes flicking over Raven and then him. He tries not to squirm; it feels kind of like one of those dreams where he shows up to school naked, that same feeling of wrongness and odd exposure. Which is stupid, because Lioness has no idea who he is, but he knows who she is, and he knows he should be helping her, but he's not.

"Yes?" Lioness prompts.

"That's our friend," Raven tells her, jerking her head at Miller. "Can we help?"

"No," she says. She's more serious on her own, Bellamy can't help noticing. There's a cold distance in her voice he's not used to hearing, and it doesn't hurt so much as it makes him a little sad. He likes her better when she's upbeat and teasing him. "The best thing you two can do is lay low and stay out of my way."

"Got it," he says, and Lioness looks a little bit grateful. "Thanks."

"I wanted to talk to her!" Raven protests, as Bellamy pulls her behind cover.

"Try to get her autograph after she saves Miller, okay? She's working."

"Yeah, okay." She flashes him a grin. "Look at you, being all cool around the celebrity."

"Clarke's a bigger celebrity than she is," he grumbles.

"Pretty sure she's not. And you're always so cool around Clarke."

"Shut up." He winces as Lioness crashes into a seat near them, thrown by the thing that's taken over Miller. "I actually asked her to come tonight, probably good she was busy," he adds, to draw her attention off Lioness. Making fun of him about his love life always distracts Raven. "Girls don't like when they get turned into monsters, right?"

"That sounds like an awesome first date to me."

"It wouldn't have been a date, and there's something wrong with you, so you don't count. You okay?" he calls to Lioness.

She pushes herself up. "Yeah, I'm good. I got this."

And she does, of course. She's got Miller back to normal and mostly in one piece in less than five minutes, with only a small cut on her leg to show for her trouble.

"Do you need help with that?" he can't help offering. He feels like it's still his job, to patch her up.

Her smile is a little strained. "No, but thanks. I'm good."

"Cool. Thanks for the rescue. We'll take him home."

She looks at him for a long minute, and he tries not to squirm under her scrutiny. She can't know, right? There's no way she knows. Especially because if she recognized him, she'd probably just say something. "You're welcome," she finally says. "Don't get mugged going home, I'm done for the night."

"We'll do our best."

Clarke texts him while he's walking home from Miller's: According to the news, I missed out on an exciting night.

Ask Miller about being a weird shadow monster, he has opinions now. He pauses and then adds, It was fun up to that point. You should come next time. He'll pay his mom back for the fees.

Sorry, if you can't promise me a horde of angry monsters, I'm out.

I promise you a horde of angry monsters.

I feel like I maybe shouldn't trust this promise :P

He grins all the way home.

*

After that, the seal between his personal life and his professional life is apparently broken. Raven starts working on actually tracking Bumblebee and Lioness, which means that she keeps showing up when one or both of them is around, and Miller tags along because he's not doing anything else. Or, Bellamy suspects, because Monty Green is also into the whole magical girl phenomenon and working with Raven, and Miller is into him. So that's great,

Lioness doesn't comment on it, so he doesn't either, because it's not like he can just say, Sorry about my dumbass friends, they have no sense of self-preservation. Not without starting a much longer conversation that he really doesn't want to have.

But then there's an attack at Clarke's modeling company, and that's definitely the worst.

He and Clarke are actual friends now, he thinks; they don't text much, but she sits with them almost every day at lunch, laughs more, seems to like him and Raven and Miller. Raven keeps trying to convince her to come on her hero-stalking missions, but she's so far resisted, so Bellamy naively thought he could avoid running into her, at least, when he was in costume.

That's one advantage of seeing her on actual business; he's so worried he doesn't have time to be self-conscious.

She's not the one possessed, which is a relief; instead she's behind a line of security guards, telling them to not shoot, asking if they've been paying any attention to the fucking news, because this is not something they're equipped to deal with.

She's his favorite, really.

"Thank god," she says, when she spots him, and ducks out from the gaggle of security guys. "Look, this is his job, okay?" she tells them. "Just stay back and let him work."

"Glad my reputation proceeds me," he says, but he really is a little bit proud. Clarke knows he's got this. It's kind of amazing. "Anyone hurt?"

"Not seriously." She glances at him. "That's, um, my ex-girlfriend."

"Huh." He considers. "So does that mean I should take it easy on her because of lingering affection or beat her up so you can get catharsis by proxy? Your call. I could go either way."

Clarke actually laughs at that. "Don't go to any trouble or anything. But if you need to rough her up a little--"

"Got it." He glances at her. "You should take off. Get out before--"

The monster shoots a wave of black energy toward them and Bellamy grabs Clarke's arm to pull her out of the way, surprised when she's pushing him aside in the same motion. Her reflexes are pretty sharp.

"Sorry, I hope I didn't ruin your sweater," he says, without thinking, and she gives him a funny look. "It's--probably expensive," he says, and, fuck, he's supposed to be slightly cool. Even if he's a bug-based magical girl. "Uh, I'd better deal with this. Just get down, okay?"

"Good luck," she says, and he's back to being a little self-conscious as he fights the monster, but--he's pretty good at the whole magical girl thing by this point. He thinks he probably comes off as well as he possibly can, considering he's dressed in yellow-and-black spandex and wielding a magic wand. And, of course, it's not like any of this is going to reflect on him. But still. It's not too much to hope that the girl he likes will think his alter ego is badass, right? That should be an achievable goal.

"Thanks," she tells him, once he's got everything sorted out.

"That's what I'm here for."

She looks him over in a way that suggests she might think he's at least a little bit cool; he tries not to blush or anything. "I need to, um. Check on her." She jerks her head towards her unconscious ex. "But--" She pecks him on the cheek, and he's all too aware it's the second time she's done it. "You're my hero."

"This magical girl thing is the fucking best," he tells Harper that night.

"I told you."

*

"Have you run into anyone you know?" he asks Lioness on Tuesday, their usual joint patrol night. It was her idea, and he's found he kind of likes it. No one really gets the whole superhero thing except her; it's nice to get to chat. "While you're Lioness."

"Oh, from real life?" she asks. "Yeah, a couple times. Kids from school. Why?"

"Saw the girl I've got a crush on," he admits.

"You've got a crush on a girl?"

"Yeah. I know I watch a lot of magical girl anime for a straight guy, but I am still straight."

She's quiet for a long time, and then finally asks, "What's she like?"

It's not really the question he was expecting, and it takes him a minute to figure out a response. "Smart. Sarcastic. Doesn't take any shit. Kind of--" He shrugs. "Grumpy a lot, not great with people. Tired."

Lioness is laughing. "That's what you're into? One of her top character traits is tired?"

He rubs his face. "In a--I like taking care of people, okay?"

She sobers, looks interested again. "Of course you do. You're a superhero."

"Not, like--that's protecting people. I'm sure she can look out for herself. But I like, I dunno. I like her. Obviously she's smart and fun to hang out with and attractive, but I like reminding her she can't work through lunch every day and making sure she got enough sleep and isn't elevating her blood pressure yelling at assholes." He rubs his face. "This is just getting worse, right? Fuck. I like her. I want to make sure she's happy. I don't think anyone else is, so--yeah."

When he finally risks a look at her, she's smiling, soft. "That's actually really sweet."

"Thanks. If you know any good ways to turn that into something I can actually say to her without getting my ass kicked, let me know."

"I'd just ask her on a date if I were you."

"I really don't think she's interested," he admits. Clarke has been pretty careful about using the word friends to describe their relationship, especially when it comes to hangout opportunities. It kind of sucks, obviously, but at least she thinks they're friends now.

"She doesn't know what she's missing," Lioness says, with a surprising amount of conviction.

"Neither do you."

"What, you don't think we know each other by now?"

Honestly, it's kind of an interesting question. He and Lioness have known each other for a good few months now, and while he has no idea what her name is, what she looks like, or what she does in her free time, he knows she's smart and loyal and capable. She likes teasing him and seems genuinely fond of him. He imagines her as someone with a decently large peer group, but few actual friends, someone who probably prefers watching movies on the couch on a Friday night to going to parties.

He trusts her; he might even like her. A little.

"Okay, yeah," he admits. "You know."

"So if we ever run into this girl, I'll totally talk you up."

"Thanks." He clears his throat. "What about you? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?"

"There's a guy I like, but same deal. He's into someone else."

"Well, he doesn't know what he's missing either."

Lioness laughs. "You can't just steal my line." Her smile is small and private, somehow not quite right. "But yeah, you're right. He definitely has no idea."

*

"This is the most boring thing I've ever done," Bellamy says. It's cold and kind of snowy and he knows, one-hundred-percent, that Bumblebee isn't going to show up, and he doesn't sense any darkness, so unless Lioness decided to patrol on her day off, they are just hanging out, waiting for superheroes who will never show up.

At least Clarke is here.

"Clearly you've never done your mom," says Raven, and Miller high-fives her.

"In what world is not having fucked my mom a burn on me? That's the opposite of a burn. Also, you guys are assholes and I don't know why we're friends." He glances at Clarke. "You're good."

"Thanks," she says. "And, for the record, I'm with you. As I want to check out Bumblebee, nothing is happening and it's freezing."

Bellamy is suddenly a lot warmer, so he takes off his hat and shoves it on her head. "Bumblebee? Not Lioness?"

"What? He's cute." She tugs the hat down, getting it settled even though it's too big; it's really a great look for her.

"No argument here. I just didn't know you had such a strong preference. I thought they were both cute, and I know you're bi, so it could go either way."

She wets her lips. "I did meet him when Lexa got possessed."

Raven had been all over that, of course, as soon as she heard there was an incident at the modeling agency. It had been surreal, listening to Clarke talk about him, but not him. He was blushing so much Miller thought he was coming down with something.

"I know," he says. "But it was like five minutes. We met Lioness and all I know is that she really works spandex."

Clarke chokes. "God, don't be a pig, Bellamy."

"If it helps, Bumblebee does too. Have you checked out his, uh--muscles?"

"I do know Raven's blog has a Bumblebulge tag, yeah," she says.

"I'm giving the people what they want!" Raven calls over her shoulder.

"So you just come out with Raven to try to stalk your superhero crush?" he asks, and she actually ducks her head, like she's embarrassed.

He's Clarke's superhero crush. His life is just--sad. Deeply, deeply sad.

"Not just that. I also like having a reason to hang out with friends," she says. "You know. Social life."

"Oh yeah, definitely. That didn't all make you sound like an alien trying to infiltrate human culture."

"Shit, you're onto me."

"Hey, if you guys are done, Miller's paying for hot chocolate," Monty says, surprisingly hesitant, and Bellamy looks away from her to see that the rest of the group has drifted away.

It's cold, so his cheeks were already flushed, probably. And Clarke doesn't seem affected at all. Of course, she's apparently into Bumblebee, so she's probably not flirting with him. They're friends.

"Miller's paying?" he asks. "Miller never pays."

"If you're not here in one minute I'm changing my mind," Miller tosses back at them, and Bellamy runs to catch up with him, putting his arm around Miller's shoulders, all rough affection. Miller doesn't look even a little fooled by the display. "You're being obvious," he says, low.

"Shut up," Bellamy replies, and doesn't let himself look at her again.

*

She texts him that night: Your hat is really nice. I'm not giving it back.

He grins; he's been giving his mom ten bucks a week for texts, and it's totally worth it. Aren't you a famous model with access to designer clothing?

And yet I'm still keeping your hat.

Tell me when your birthday is and I'll make you one.

The phone actually starts ringing, a total shock, and he stares at it in confusion for a second before he fumbles and picks it up. "Uh, hi?"

"You made this?" she asks.

"If you mean the hat then yes."

"You knit?"

"What, I'm not allowed to knit?"

"I just wouldn't have expected that."

"Assume I'm pretty good with all textiles. Did this really warrant a phone call?"

"It's really cool," she says. "I just--I dunno. It was a surprise. Should I not call you?"

"No, it's fine." He wets his lips, tries to figure out something to say. He ends up with, "I can make you a black and yellow one," because he's kind of a dumbass. "You know. Show your superhero allegiance."

"Or I could just keep yours," she says, easy, and his heart lodges in his throat.

It's just so stupid, really.

"Yeah. You could do that."

*

The thing is, he doesn't really have anyone to talk to about any of this stuff, except Harper, and while she does seem to enjoy snuggling with Monroe when they're both around, he doesn't really think she can help with his actual emotional or relationship issues.

Because--he could tell Clarke. He could tell all his friends. There's no rule that says he has have a secret identity. He can prove it; he could just transform in front of them, and then they'd know. And Clarke would--

He doesn't actually know. That's part of it. And it feels like kind of a dick move, honestly, telling her. Because he'd be telling her because he likes her, and he wants her to be into him. But she doesn't actually know Bumblebee at all, and it feels almost like cheating, to use that. Like he's taking advantage of something he hasn't earned. He wants Clarke to like him.

But he still kind of wants to tell them.

So he asks Lioness.

"Do any of your friends know about you?"

"Be vaguer," she teases.

"What you're doing. The whole magical girl thing."

"I don't have that many friends." She pauses, rests her chin on her arms. She's got her legs drawn up to her chest, and she looks young and small, suddenly.

He moves toward her without meaning to, and she smiles.

"Is that a kink for you? Girls with no friends?"

"Shut up."

She wets her lips. "I don't know. It's getting better this year. I've got some people I hang out with. But--I don't know. I never feel like people like me for the right reasons, I guess?" She groans. "It's going to sound egotistical, but people always want to be my friend."

"I have no idea why."

"Sorry, I meant people who aren't you." She smiles at him in a way that makes his stupid heart flip over, which--what the fuck. "Why do you think I like you so much?"

"And you say I've got weird kinks," he mutters.

"Do your friends know?"

"I haven't told anyone." He rubs the back of his neck. "I was kind of thinking about it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I don't know, it's weird, right? Like, my whole life, I've known that stuff like this is supposed to be secret, you know?"

"Again, you watch too much anime."

"That one was more superhero comics. Superman, Batman. They don't tell people, right? That's how it works."

She's quiet, and then she asks, "Is it the girl you like? Do you want to tell her?"

"Yeah."

"It sucks, though," she says. "Having people like you for--she doesn't really know you, right? Just knows that you're a cool superhero."

"You know I'm dressed like a giant fucking bee, right? I'm just amazed she doesn't think I'm a loser."

"In a cute way."

He snorts. "Your support means the world to me."

There's another long pause, and then she says, "I think about telling you."

"Telling me what?"

"Who I am. It would be easier, right? If we knew each other's names and stuff. We could coordinate." She's not looking at him, just staring out over the horizon. He wonders if she's cold; the costumes have some magical insulation, but he still keeps expecting her to start shaking. "You're probably my best friend. Is that sad?"

"A little."

She laughs. "That's why you're probably my best friend."

"What, your other friends aren't honest with you?"

"No, they are, but--I don't know what they want from me."

"Maybe they just like you. I don't know why they would, but--"

She laughs, bumps her shoulder against his. "You're a dick."

"I'm your best friend. You just said so."

"I also said I don't really have friends. So it's not like you have much competition." She looks at him. "You don't want to tell me who you are."

"What's it going to do?" he asks. "You won't know me."

"I could know you." She pauses. "I've seen you. When I'm off duty. We've talked."

His breath catches, but he keeps his tone normal. "Yeah. I've seen you too."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He grins. "You saved me."

"Holy shit."

"What? You've seen me, why couldn't I see you? It's not like it's a huge city."

Her laugh is disbelieving. "Sorry, I'm just reviewing everyone I've ever seen in costume when I'm not with you. I can't believe I saw you. Did we talk?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck." She laughs. "I thought I'd know, honestly."

"Because of our BFF connection?"

"Asshole." She bites her lip, staring at him. "God, I can't believe it. Why aren't you more upset about this?"

"Upset about what?"

"You saw me out of costume too. It doesn't bother you that you didn't recognize me?"

"Did we talk a lot?"

"Not a ton, but--" She ducks her head. "I wanted you to like me."

"Oh, so were you one of those totally embarrassing fangirls? Like, so into me?"

"Do you get that a lot?"

"All the time. Again, I've got this sexy bee thing going. It's a real popular fetish thing."

"What color is your hair?" she asks.

"Huh?"

"Your hair. What color is it?"

He pauses. "Black. You?"

"Blonde. Eyes?"

"Brown."

"Blue." She wets her lips. "Name? I know it doesn't start with B."

It feels dangerous. But--he trusts her, right? And maybe it'll be nice. The could hang out. Watch Hulu. He could show her Sailor Moon and they could argue over who was who. He could figure out how to introduce her to his friends. He could--

His brain kind of trips up at the idea of her talking to Clarke, because--god, he doesn't even know. Clarke's so prickly, but maybe they'd like each other. They could tease him all the time, it would be fun.

It still hurts his head a little.

"It does, actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"So, the only thing you ever told me about yourself, and you lied," she teases.

"I'm a dick, yeah."

"Okay, B. Brad?"

"Brad?"

"Bill? Bob? Ben? Ooh, Bruce? Like Batman?"

"You're seriously never going to guess."

"Brandon? Blake?"

It's not like it's going to help. "Kind of."

"How can your name kind of be something?"

"It's my last name," he says. It's a pretty common last name, he figures. And he's fucking nobody.

But she breathes, "Bellamy," and all he can do is stare at her.

"Uh," he starts, and he wants to deny it, but it must be written all over his face, even just over the small part of his face that she can see. And, honestly, he fucking can't believe that she guessed.

He knows her. She knows him.

"Fucking--" She starts, but stops, shakes her head and surges forward to kiss him instead.

Her mouth is soft and a little cold, and Bellamy kind of flails for a second, because he's had a couple of girlfriends, just short relationships which involved some kissing and sex once, but he's been single since a few months before the magical girl thing started, and he's kind of rusty at this. Plus, Lioness is the one kissing him, and she's kissing him because they know each other, except he still has no fucking idea who she is.

"Um," he tries, but he doesn't know where to go with it. She's beaming.

"Bellamy."

"Yeah. You, uh--you really need to--I still have no clue what's happening."

She wets her lips, which is distracting. He hadn't really thought about kissing her before, but he wouldn't mind trying it again. "Fuck, I better be the girl you like," she says, and tugs her cowl down.

And she's still fucking smiling at him, eyes bright and hair a mess and Clarke. She looks happier than he's ever seen her look, this perfect, unrestrained grin, and he must look about as ridiculous.

"Yeah," he says. "Of course you are."

He leans back in to kiss her again, but she slides her hand up, pushing his cowl down too, like she needs to be sure, and he gives her a crooked smile.

"Hi," she says.

"Hey."

"You know, you never talk about how much Sailor Moon you watch at school," she says.

"Well, I wanted you to think I was cool."

"It didn't really work." She grins, brushes her lips against his, gentle. "You think I'm tired."

"You are. You never look like you get enough sleep." He slides his hand into her hair. "We're your friends, Clarke. Seriously. We like you."

"It was just nice having someone not know I was Clarke Griffin, you know?"

"Still."

She drops her forehead against his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around her, pulling her against him. It's getting cold with his mask down, so maybe that's how the magic works. Once he starts showing his face, it stops keeping him warm. "I didn't know how to like you," she admits. "Liking Bumblebee was a lot easier. You just treated me like--"

"Someone who got on my nerves?"

"For like a week. You're a fucking softy. You don't know how to not take care of people. And it was nice, having a partner. I've never had something like that before. I didn't have to wonder if you--" She pauses. "I guess it's weird, since you didn't--you wouldn't have been spending time with me if I wasn't Lioness. But that felt better than wondering if you were just spending time with me because I was Clarke Griffin."

He presses his lips against her hair. "Hey, are you cold?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to go somewhere else? I feel like we've got a lot to talk about."

"Yeah. I'd really like that."

*

He's never been to her house before, but that's where they go, because when she asks, he admits that he never has much privacy in his apartment. Their walls are thin and he already lied and told his sister he had a secret girlfriend he was sneaking out to see, so he's clear for the night.

"Secret girlfriend?" Clarke teases. Her room is huge and clean, without much personality, aside from some of her drawings. It looks like something from a display. But he got changed back into his t-shirt and jeans, and she put on pajamas and is curled around him in her soft, warm bed, so he has no complaints. It's amazing, how much better he feels just because he can wrap his arms around her and make her smile with it. "That was seriously the best you could come up with?"

"You've never had a sibling," he grumbles. "I know you haven't. So don't judge. What did you tell your parents?"

"It's just my mom," she says, sliding a little closer, and he strokes his hand up her back. "She didn't notice."

"Mine didn't either."

"What about your dad?"

"Died when I was two. What about yours?"

"Divorced. I see him for holidays. He has to travel a lot for work, so--" She sighs. "Yeah. I didn't have to explain myself to anyone."

"I think that might make you Sailor Jupiter," he says, and she laughs and presses her lips against his collarbone. "I used to hate you," he admits.

"I know. You were so ready to save the world all by yourself."

"No, like--you. Clarke."

She jerks up off his chest. "You've been nice to me all year! You have a crush on me! I heard you telling Raven about it."

"Yeah, but--before you rescued my sister. I thought you were kind of a rich asshole. Which--you are, just not like I thought." He grins. "You being an asshole has basically nothing to do with you being rich."

Her laugh is sudden and bright, and when she leans down to kiss him, he pulls her in and kisses back. He's already getting better at kissing her, regaining the rhythm of it, and he's planning to get a lot more practice.

She settles back into his side. "So, you hated me."

"I hate most people. And I haven't had the best time with rich, popular kids. But you helped my sister out, so I started paying attention. And--yeah. I changed my mind about you." He grins. "Plus you're hot, so--"

She laughs. "That's all it took, huh?" Shaking her head, she settles back against him. "I probably would have had a thing for you, but I already had a thing for--well, you."

"You didn't even know what I looked like."

"Because I'm not shallow, unlike some people."

"Yeah, that's me." He pulls her down, kisses her again, longer. "I feel like we still have shit to talk about."

"I was developing a thing for you," she says, smiling. "So it's not just the spandex. That's kind of why--I wanted to know who you were. So I could figure out if anything was ever going to happen, or I should just jump the cute boy who so obviously liked me."

"Yeah, I wasn't trying to be subtle about it." He lets his fingers tangle in her hair, pulling her closer. "Not like I didn't like Lioness, but--she's got nothing on you."

"Flattery will get you everywhere." She yawns, burrows against his neck. "I guess your sister will notice if you don't come home."

"She'll probably be proud of me. If you want me to stay."

"Apparently I'm tired and I never get enough sleep. And--what else? Grumpy and not great with people?"

"Fuck, you're never going to let me forget that, are you?"

"You know, when you said that, I just thought--" She laughs. "Honestly, I already had a thing for you, but I was so jealous. That's exactly how I wanted someone to like me. It was sweet."

He kisses her hair. "Good. That's how I like you."

"I'm just into you for your body."

"I thought I was the shallow one."

"We can both be the shallow one." He tugs her closer, and she closes her eyes. He's already half asleep when she says, "So, you'll stay?"

"Yeah, I'll stay."

*

Having a girlfriend is in all ways better than having a superhero partner and unrequited crush. For one thing, they can make out when they have downtime on patrols, and he can send her texts on the superhero phone, once she actually sees his shitty flip phone and makes him admit he pays for every text he's ever gotten from her.

"We're doing important work, Bellamy," she tells him. "I need to be able to text you. For the good of the universe."

"The last text you sent me said, This English paper is the fucking worst, I hate everything."

"The universe needed that text. It was very important."

He looks down at the phone she wants to get him. "You don't have to do this."

"No. But I can afford it, it's useful, and I like texting you, so--I won't if you don't want me to, but it's not a big deal to me, and I know it is to you. So I'd like to do that, if you'll let me."

So he gets a new phone, and his girlfriend texts him stupid shit all the time, and his sister makes fun of him because he smiles too much.

His friends make fun of him even more.

"Seriously, how did he convince you to go out with him?" Miller asks. "I thought you had better taste."

"Fuck you too," Bellamy says, but Clarke is settled in his lap, so it's hard to manage much actual annoyance. "I'm a catch, Miller."

"Grumpy and belligerent," Clarke says. "The total package." Her hand finds his, and she laces their fingers together. "I was into someone else, so I wasn't really thinking about Bellamy," she adds to Miller. "But then he figured out how to just kind of casually pull his shirt up a little and show off his abs--"

He groans and tugs her closer. "Don't give away my secret seduction techniques."

"Miller isn't hitting on Monty enough, he needs all the help he can get."

"I'm hitting on him," Miller grumbles. "I've got a system."

"My system's better," Bellamy says, and Miller just rolls his eyes.

When he babysits Octavia, Clarke comes over and watches anime with them, makes fun of him about how the protagonists are all incompetent and would be lost without their awesome supporting casts, and he tells her the rest of the cast would be lost without such expert leadership.

Octavia tells him he sucks at flirting, which is also definitely true. But Clarke doesn't seem to mind. He thinks she kind of likes it, really; it's not like she's great at it either.

They're hanging out in her room, Clarke with her head on her stomach as she reads, when she asks, "So, do magical girl shows ever end? I know we have, like, twenty billion seasons of Sailor Moon to get through, but is the world going to be saved at some point and we get to stop?"

"You want to stop?" Harper asks, sounding a little hurt.

"No offense," Clarke says. She rubs Monroe behind her ears, smiling at the cat's soft purr of contentment. "But I don't really want to have to deal with this shit during AP exams. Or college." They're both planning to stay in the city for school, which he tries not to think about too much, because he always ends up grinning like an idiot when he does. But he's pretty excited about it. And he'd honestly rather they could just be normal college students in a normal relationship, at least for their freshman year. While they settle in.

"Usually there's a climactic battle with the big bad, and then either the show ends or we get a break for a few months between seasons," he tells her.

"I could do a climactic battle with a big bad. Maybe, like, March or April? Could we schedule it there? Seriously, AP exams are going to kick our asses."

"Speak for yourself, I'm very prepared."

"I thought I was the smart one and you're the ditz with a strong heart."

"My heart is very prepared too." He leans down to kiss her hair. "Come on, Clarke. We've definitely got this. We're a team. We can study while we're on patrol, we'll coordinate our schedules, cover for each other. I don't care how long we have to do this, we're gonna be fine. We're the chosen ones."

She looks at him for long enough that he thinks he might have gone too far with that one, but then she smiles, bright and wide, and crawls up to kiss him.

"You're totally the protagonist," she says. "I could never do a rousing speech like that."

"Shut up," he says.

"Seriously. That was great. I'm really impressed. You should be a motivational speaker once you stop being a magical girl."

"We're not a team anymore."

"Too late," she says, and cuddles back against him. "I know your secret identity. You can't get rid of me."

Luckily, her head is resting on his chest, so she can't see it when he grins. "Sucks to be me."

*

For her birthday, he makes her a hat, yellow and black, just like he promised.

"It's just because I want mine back," he says, but he definitely can't stop grinning. The hat looks awful on her, goes with nothing she's wearing, and he's pretty sure she's not going to take it off until she absolutely has to.

"You really want to give your girlfriend a hat that reminds her of an actual superhero she's into who definitely has a bigger dick than you do?" Raven asks. "This might not be your best plan, Bellamy."

"Please don't speculate on my dick size, thanks. And if Clarke thinks she's got a shot with Bumblebee, she should definitely go for it. He's a superhero, he's a lot cooler than I am."

Clarke rolls her eyes. "I think the preferred terminology is magical girl. It's a whole genre, Bellamy. Get some culture."

"Can't believe I fucked that one up," he says. "Clearly I've got a lot to learn about magical girls."

"Clearly." She leans up to peck him on the cheek. "He doesn't have anything to worry about," she adds to Raven. "As soon as whatever weird magical evil that's plaguing the city is gone, Bumblebee will be too. He's just--a phase. But Bellamy's not going anywhere."

"That's my main selling point as a person, yeah," he says, but he's grinning stupidly. "Permanence. It's really hard to get rid of me."

"Yup. Magical girls come and go, Bellamy is forever."

Bellamy leans in and kisses her, and Raven huffs, says they're ridiculous and leaves them alone to go flirt with Gina instead. It's a good life choice, and Bellamy supports it.

"Forever is a while," he points out.

"Yeah. But I've seen the anime now. I know how this works, so I'm picking the genre conventions I like. Mistaken identity, secret crushes, mutual pining, saving the world, happily ever after."

He tugs the hat down over her ears. "Hey, what do you know," he says, leaning his forehead against hers. "Those are my favorites too."