Hi everyone! This is my first fanfiction for not only The 100 but for anything ever. I hope that you enjoy it. There will be an eventual Bellamy x Clarke relationship, as well as a few others – not that I have 100% decided who is going with who or how it's quite going to go together.

Any comments and constructive criticisms are always greatly appreciated, like seriously. It's just nice to know someone is reading my rubbish writing. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story.

Edit: re-written July 2017

The continual ringing was beginning to drive him mad. He should have been sound asleep but instead he was awake and irritable. Cursing whoever was calling him – it was 5am for fuck's sake – he grabbed his phone from the bedside table and brought it to his ear.

'Blake here', he said, voice gruff with sleep.

The voice at the other end of the line spoke quickly, describing the situation which would completely end Bellamy's hope of a full night of sleep. He had been stupid to think that the world would possibly allow him three quiet night's in a row.

'I'll be there in 15,' Bellamy promised, ending the call and sitting up. Running his hands through his bedhead, he cursed again before flipping his duvet back and planting his feet on the cold, carpeted floor. Reaching into the drawer of his bedside table, Bellamy removed a small can of deodorant. After a quick spritz under each arm, the can was back in the drawer and Bellamy was reaching for a clean shirt – luckily, he had learned to prepare for midnight summons and had a shirt on the back of his chair.

'Shit, last clean shirt,' Bellamy noted, obviously he wasn't as prepared as he'd thought. Slipping the shirt on over his toned arms Bellamy promised himself that he'd do the washing once he returned from the precinct.

Ten minutes after being awoken by the phone call and Bellamy was on his way out of the apartment, thermos of strong, hot coffee in hand. He paused only to holster his gun and grab his bomber jacket before shutting off the light and proceeding out of the door.

Pulling up at the kerb, Bellamy stepped out of his cruiser and slammed the door; the sound obnoxiously loud in the still night. Thermos in one hand and badge in the other, he moved towards the yellow police tape. Flashing his badge at the junior officer manning the boundary, he ducked under the yellow line and continued towards the scene.

Having spotted his team, Bellamy shouted out a greeting at the other officers, 'Morning Miller, Reyes, Collins. Anything to report?'

'A banging headache and some serious eyebags,' Reyes drawled, small strands of her dark hair escaping from her ponytail into her eyes. Raven Reyes was the single female on Bellamy's small team; tough as nails and quick as a whip, she had a certain talent for keeping her male colleagues in line.

Bellamy rolled his eyes. 'Funny Reyes,' he said, 'but not particularly helpful.'

'White female, no ID but still lots of cash in her purse so we can rule out robbery,' said Collins. Unlike his fellow officers, Collins (first name Finn) appeared to be awake and not at all as if he was cursing his career choice. Although, Bellamy thought, he'd have been more concerned if he ever witnessed a look of hatred on the younger man's face. Finn was perpetually happy and occasionally (well, more than occasionally) it pissed Bellamy off.

'Yeah, we can only see a single stab wound to the chest. That, combined with the lack of theft, suggests it probably not just a random street crime,' Miller added. Simple and straight to the point, as always. Bellamy always appreciated this straightforward attitude during days like these.

Taking a mouthful of his, now, tepid coffee, Bellamy quietly took in the scene. The female victim was laying on her front, right at the edge of a circle of street light, a small pool of blood spilled out from underneath her. The blood had already begun to seep into the porous concrete below and, Bellamy knew, it would be a bitch to remove the stain. One of the woman's arms was thrown up toward her face, palm flat against the pavement. Her other arm was partially underneath her abdomen, two small keys peeking out from her clenched fist. Bellamy crouched down slowly, using his flashlight to get a better look at the women's keys.

'Is that blood?' he asked, directing his gaze to the smaller of the two keys.

'Looks like it, boss,' said Collins. 'We'll get it swabbed and back to the lab techs once Raven has taken all the scene photos.'

Easing himself back to his feet, Bellamy stepped back, allowing Reyes to get trigger happy with the camera.

Shortly later, the distinct click-clack of a pair of heels reached the team - a sure sign that the medical examiner had arrived. Predictably, Clarke Griffin looked good. Well, Bellamy allowed, she looked good considering the 5am start. It did make him feel slightly better that she evidently relied on caffeine too, judging by the large, steaming cup in her left hand. It made her seem a little less perfect; a little less like a princess.

'Morning everyone,' Clarke said. Raven and Finn smiled at her in response; Miller gave a small wave; Bellamy just nodded shortly. He wasn't particularly trying to be rude, but it was common knowledge that he and the princess didn't exactly see eye-to-eye, and he really didn't want to start a fight before the sun had even risen. Giving a small inclination toward the victim, Clarke continued, 'Such a shame, she looks young.'

'Hopefully we'll find out soon enough,' Miller replied. 'We've got no ID yet so we'll have to run fingerprints and hope that she's on the system.'

Placing her coffee mug down – carefully outside of the immediate crime area – Clarke snapped on a pair of blue latex gloves and did a preliminary exam; taking liver temperature, removing the keys from the victim's clenched fist before bagging the women's hands and feet. She carefully swabbed the blood on the smaller key and keyring before dropping them into the evidence bag Finn held out towards her.

Removing her gloves, she turned to Bellamy, 'I would say, based on the preliminary exam, this woman died between 11pm and 1am last night. I've taken swabs from the keys and will get her more thoroughly examined back in the lab. If we're all done here I'd like to get her back asap.'

Bellamy quickly glanced around his team, making sure that their various tasks were complete and it was time to move the body. Miller and Collins nodded.

'I'm all done here,' said Raven.

'Right, Monty, Jasper, you can get her in the van now please,' Clarke said, directing her eyes to the two young labs techs stationed just outside the crime scene tape.

The pair quickly ducked under the tape and carefully rolled the body onto a plastic sheet and into a body bag. As the women's face was exposed Bellamy sighed, she was younger than he had originally thought. 18, or maybe 19, at the most. He was going to need a lot more coffee to get through this one.

Monty grasped the zipper and drew it up, hiding the women's face from the eyes of the public who had begun gathering beyond the line of police tape. Jasper and Monty grasped the two ends of the bag and carefully carried it towards their van.

'We'll see you guys back at the precinct,' Clarke shouted as she followed the two lab techs away from the scene.

Bellamy turned back towards his team and doled out the most important tasks, 'Collins and Reyes, you two check the nearby bins and drains, see if you can come home with the murder weapon. Hopefully it was dumped somewhere near here and if it has prints on it, it could be golden. Miller, you're with me. We'll go and see how much CCTV footage we can track down – starting with those two cameras,' he said, gesturing broadly to the two cameras attached to the outside of the store on the opposite side of the street, directly across from the alley the were currently standing in. 'Everyone regroup back at base this afternoon for a progress update.'

The three officers nodded. Raven and Finn moved further down the alley, towards a large blue dumpster drawing on gloves in preparation for their dirty work. Nathan moved to Bellamy's side and the pair headed in the opposite direction, targeting the store across the street. Miller paused briefly to lift the crime scene tape for his senior colleague before the two made their way through the small crowd – ignoring the swirling questions thrown at them from both sides.

The shops across the road hadn't yet opened; an unsurprising fact given that the sun was yet to rise. Luckily for the officers the owner of the orange fronted shop (which appeared to operate as a newsagents and shop with a small key cutting business on the side) live above his workplace and had been roused by the activity in the alley. Unfortunately, the rude awakening meant that the man wasn't feeling particularly gracious, glowering at Nathan and Bellamy as they explained the situation. Well – Bellamy allowed – Miller explained the situation as he tried not to glare back at the man. Even after two large coffees, Bellamy was not the most polite man in the morning.

'Did you see or hear anything between 11pm last night and 1am this morning?' Nathan asked as the man copied the CCTV tapes onto a couple of spare discs.

'I heard a bit of shouting about midnight,' the man replied. 'I even poked my head out of the window to tell them to keep it down but, you know, that's pretty standard stuff around here. There's a couple of clubs and pubs just around the corner so I'm used to rowdy crowds.'

The two officers nodded knowingly, they had been called to this area several times before to deal with some anti-social drinkers and club goers. Finishing up their routine questions, the two men headed for the door; newly burned discs of CCTV footage in hand.

Slamming the door of his car, Bellamy noticed the time on the dashboard: 6.35am.

'This is going to be a fucking long day, isn't it?' he said.

Miller just sighed in response as Bellamy put the car in gear and pulled away from the crime scene.

Arriving back at the precinct, Bellamy handed half of the CCTV to Nathan as they went their separate ways to their own desks. Reyes and Collins had still been trawling through the rubbish bins when Bellamy and Nathan had driven away from the scene so their desks were still empty. With half of the team still out, the office was quiet – the ideal working conditions for both Bellamy and Miller.

Finishing his cup of coffee – his fifth of the morning, he realised – Bellamy sat back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head, wincing slightly when his right elbow cracked distinctly. So far he'd managed to make it through less than half of his fraction of the CCTV footage but already his eyes were starting to blur and there was a crick forming in the back of his neck. Raven and Finn has returned from their scavenger hunt in the rubbish bins – unfortunately, without any trace of a weapon – and so the office was now filled with noise.

The search for the name of the women now residing in their morgue had also been fruitless thus far. Jasper had brought them a sheet of fingerprints to run through the database. Miller had scanned the into the system as soon as the sheet had arrived but so far the database hadn't returned any hits. That just about summed up Bellamy's day so far; lots of work for not much return. Sighing, Bellamy rolled back his chair and stood up from his desk.

'I'm going to head downstairs and see if Griffin has anything more to tell us yet. God knows we need something more to work with,' Bellamy said, dragging his hand roughly through his already dishevelled hair.

'I'll come down with you,' said Finn, either missing or choosing to ignore the dramatic eye roll Raven shot his way. Bellamy liked Finn – he really did – but the younger man was known for coming on too strong and it had caused some friction between the officer and the princess M.E. downstairs. Not that friction between Dr Griffin and other people was unusual, the blonde was definitely headstrong and feisty, but something rubbed him the wrong way about the way Collins interacted with Clarke.

Bellamy turned and strode through the double doors towards the lift, not bothering to check if Finn had followed him.

The ping of the elevator alerted Clarke to the two officers presence even before the deep voices reached her ears. It sounded like the two were having a terse conversation, both voices slightly raised. Clarke wondered what could have gotten the normally collected Detective Blake into such a mood.

Her silent question was immediately answered when both men appeared through the lab door – Clarke's heart sunk.

'Hi Clarke!' said Finn, possibly attempting to pre-empt the normally feisty Detective/M.E. pairing. 'You're looking lovely today.'

Clarke growled lowly as Bellamy quickly spoke over the younger man, 'please tell me you have something.'

This day was not going his way and, just to top it off, Collins had tried to start a conversation about Dr Griffin in the lift. A conversation Bellamy really didn't want to have and probably bordered on inappropriate for the workplace. Sometimes Finn really could be a fucking wanker. He knew – in fact everyone except Collins himself knew – that Dr Griffin was not even mildly interested in Finn. Unfortunately, this fact hadn't done anything to dampen the officer's optimism.

'Bellamy,' Clarke sighed, gloved hands on hips, 'I've only had this body back here for an hour. I know I'm good but even you can't expect me to perform miracles?' Gently blowing the wispy hairs from her face she continued, 'I can tell you that the stab wound killed her – although even you could have figured that one out – and she had a couple of defensive wounds on both of her palms. There was no evidence of sexual assault, which I suppose is some sort of positive, and we managed to retrieve a small sample of what looks like skin from under her nails. Those samples have been sent to Monty and Jasper along with some swabs I took. Unfortunately, until I've got the results from those findings back I've got nothing more to tell you.'

During her little speech (a short speech by Clarke's standards) her bright blue eyes had not left Bellamy's copper ones. This was not an unusual tactic of the M.E.; Bellamy always got all of the attention whenever he brought Finn to the pathology lab. It wasn't that Clarke didn't like Finn, it was that she really didn't like him. It was a dislike that started when she first met the officer – a dislike that emanated from a gut feeling rather than an actual event. Bellamy understood that kind of dislike well – although, luckily, not directed at anyone he had to work with.

Hoping to make the rest of the debrief less stressful, he turned to Collins and asked him to wait outside. He and Dr 'Princess' Griffin may not always see eye-to-eye, but it was nothing like the uncomfortable tension between Finn and Clarke. That relationship was enough to make senior officers uncomfortable.

Turning himself back to face Clarke, Bellamy narrowed his eyes into his famous glare. This glare work on everyone, toughened criminals and hardened cops alike and once - Bellamy swears - it even worked on a police dog but the petite, blonde M.E. in front of him was unaffected. In fact, she seemed amused at his attempt to intimidate her, raising her eyebrows and smirking back at him. Remembering that she was medically trained and in possession of several scalpels, Bellamy backed down. Not that he was even slightly scared. Definitely not scared of someone more than a head smaller than himself.

'Glaring at me won't help me run tests any faster, Blake.'

'Fine,' Bellamy bit out, 'just page me when you know something okay, Princess?' Maybe using her hated nickname was a mistake, but Bellamy just wanted that stupid smirk off of her face.

'Always a pleasure, Detective Blake,' her voice sing-songed at him as he left the room. He could tell that her stupid smirk was still present. Bellamy made sure to slam the door hard behind him.