AN: Hi everyone. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my first ever published story! I'm super excited to be able to share this with you and I hope it wasn't too terrible. This work did not have a beta reader so I would like to apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors I didn't catch myself.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters or settings pertaining to this universe; I am just playing with them.

Dusk was the most peaceful time of day on Earth; the sun dipped low between the trees bathing the world in a glow of red and gold. It was this time of day that filled Clarke with the most hope: hope for the future and hope for the 92 people still left alive. If she was being honest with herself, something she was trying to do more often now, Clarke couldn't help but feel an all-consuming sense of dread. Another day had gone by, tugging them closer to when the people still on the Arc would make the descent to earth. She knew she should be happy, by finally making contact with the Arc she was able to save Finn and countless others, but she couldn't help worrying. Maybe Bellamy's paranoia about the Council was starting to rub off on her.

"Princess," Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. Clarke didn't turn to look at him from her spot on a fallen log in the forest; she could feel his eyes on her, burning deep into her skin. "The gates are closing, time to come in." His voice still held that gruff, commanding tone but she no longer bristled at it; she had grown accustomed to his attitude.

"I'm not a child Bellamy. I don't need you to come get me, and I told you to stop calling me that."

"And I told you that I don't take orders from you, Princess." Clarke rolled her eyes, still not moving. The silence stretched on for a couple of seconds. "I will lock you out here; don't think you get special privileges just because you performed a miracle and saved Spacewalker."

Her shoulders tightened visibly at his jab. "And yet here you are, warning me before the gates close. If I had been anybody else, except for Octavia, you would have just closed them. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, you locked a couple out just last night. " Clarke peeked through her curtain blonde hair, from the corner of her eye; Bellamy's face was a mask of indifference, but she knew enough about him to know that he was never indifferent.

"You're the one who wanted rules. Wasn't it your idea to prohibit people from being outside the walls after dark?"

"I wanted rules to keep us safe. Locking two defenseless people outside the wall for an entire night is not keeping them safe."

"I'm the one enforcing the rules, rules that you wanted. The only way people are going to take them seriously is if they see the consequences." His jaw was set and head was lifted defiantly, he was clearly preparing for an argument.

"Don't pretend you care about the rules. It was just another way to assert your dominance over the camp." Clarke stood up quickly, if they were going to argue she didn't want him towering over her any more than he already did.

"I'm all about asserting dominance, Princess." He leered at her, stepping into her personal space. His eyes smoldered dangerously.

"That look might work on your harem, but you're wasting your time on me." Clarke held her ground looking up into his expressive eyes. She couldn't help feeling a tiny bit smug at the look of surprise that flashed across his face before it once again became a blank mask.

"My harem?"

"You know, the steady stream of girls flowing to and from your tent. Your fan club." He raised an eyebrow in response before a smirk settled.

"I wasn't aware that you were keeping tabs on my activities. It's really quite flattering."

"You're delusional. The whole camp is aware of your," She paused, mouth curling into something of a sneer "activities."

"If you wanted to spend some quality time with me all you had to do was ask." Clarke felt her stomach do a funny little swoop; did he just say what she thought he said?

"Not if we were the last two people on earth."

"If we keep getting picked off, that could be a real possibility Princess." When she didn't respond immediately, he dropped the leering act. "Why are you out here anyway?"

Clarke blinked at the abrupt change in topic but found herself answering anyway. "I needed to clear my head, and I couldn't do that in the medical tent." She shook her head before continuing. "It's gotten a bit crowded recently." She instantly regretted her words; she sounded bitter even to her own ears.

"Trouble in paradise?" She scowled in response; Bellamy knew all too well just how much trouble her 'paradise' was in, the whole camp did. "You shouldn't let them run you out of your own territory."

"We aren't animals, Bellamy. We don't claim territory."

"Maybe if you claimed territory Spacewalker would be with you right now, instead of being tended to by the Mechanic."

"I don't know what you think you are doing but you can stop it right now."

"I'm offering some advice; maybe you should listen for once in your life." His expression softened for an instant. "He's an idiot."

"You're one to talk."

"I might have a harem, as you so eloquently put it, but they know what they are getting into. I've never lied to one of my girls."

"Your girls." Disbelief was evident in her voice. "Do you even hear yourself? You sit and preach about not lying, yet at the rate you're going the entire female population of the camp will be 'your girls.' How is that any better?"

"You sound jealous Princess."

"I'm not jealous. I'm just," What? She didn't even know.

"You're just what? Sticking your nose in other people's business, like usual?"

"In case you haven't noticed, it's my job to help people. It's my job to be in their business."

"No, it's your job to heal them. Now get inside, I don't want the council on my ass for your death." He grabbed her roughly by the arm, intent on dragging her through the gate whether she liked it or not. She stumbled slightly but didn't resist; she had a suspicion that he would have just thrown her over his shoulder like a five year old had she attempted it.

"Do you think the council is actually going to forgive our crimes?" She couldn't stop the question from spilling through her lips. Bellamy's stride faltered for a second before he continued, his grip not loosening put perhaps becoming a bit gentler.

"You have nothing to worry about, Princess. Your one of the privileged, you've kept us alive. They'll forgive your crime."

"But what about the others? Jasper, Monty, your sister." You.

"The ones who deserve to be forgiven will be." His ambiguous answer caused her to pull back, halting their progress.

"We all deserve to be forgiven. They sent us to Earth because we were expendable. I think that we have proved just how un-expendable we really are." She took a deep breath before continuing. "They don't get to say who lives and dies, not anymore."

"Brave Princess." Unlike the last time he said it, there was no mocking or arrogant undertone. "The council isn't going to give up that kind of power without a fight." Bellamy continued walking; Clarke followed quickly trying to keep up to his long strides.

"Well isn't it good that we have a hotheaded leader. I've never seen a crowd listen to someone the way they listen to you." She admitted grudgingly knowing the truth to her words. They reached the wall before he answered her.

"You're going to have to do this one on your own Clarke." His dark eyes met her blue ones. "They'll kill me on sight. I shot Chancellor Jaha; they won't forgive that any time soon."

"We won't let them." I won't let them. How could he talk about his own death so calmly? "We aren't people of the Arc anymore. They can't come down and just kill any of our people."

"You need to learn how to pick your battles. Some of us just aren't worth it. Go back to your friends; I'm sure someone is in need of our esteemed Doctor."

He moved through the gate before she could retort quietly but that didn't stop her from yelling, "You don't get to dismiss me like some dog!" but when she made it to the other side she saw that Bellamy was already surrounded by a crowd of campers. She watched as he barked orders and appeased complaints. If she was being honest with herself, which she was trying to do more often, Bellamy Blake was a man of action; a man who had brought together one hundred convicts and helped them survive. He might not think it, but the camp needed him and maybe she needed him a little bit as well.

Brown eyes met blue for the briefest of seconds, over the crowd of people, before Bellamy turned away and Clarke watched as he slung his arm around a petite ginger and steered her in the direction of his tent. The gate closed with a resounding bang behind her and Clarke finally moved, heading back to the medical tent and closer to the problems of the very near future.

AN: So there you have it. I'm considering expanding on this idea but I'm still undecided. Leave a comment and tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is also appreciated!