Prompt: "You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn't have to go to such extremes." bellamy/clarke with bellamy as the faintee

A/N: I hope you like this one! I'm not sure if I'm completely satisfied with it, but I thought...what the hell, right? I loved the prompt for this one because I could totally see Bellamy fainting and Clarke being all snarky and sassy about it.

Rated: K

Bellamy's head was pounding, and his eyes stung when he opened them. The light was too bright, the sounds around him too loud. There was something hovering over him, something golden, shiny, beautiful – but, admittedly, too close. He had to cross his eyes to focus, which hurt. He blinked a couple of times, only to realize it was a woman, and a beautiful woman at that. An angel. When he tried to smile, he winced. Ouch. No smiling for now. It hurt.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." The woman snarked.

Bellamy couldn't comprehend what was happening yet; his head was still too heavy, the pounding still too hard. There was something warm wrapped around him, and he had to admit he was lying pretty comfy. He could've fallen asleep again, if not for that nagging sensation in the back of his mind that he was forgetting something. He looked up at the angel in confusion. "What the hell happened?"

The angel snorted, quite unangel-like, and rolled her eyes. "You fainted..." she said matter-of-factly. "Straight into my arms, too. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn't have to go to such extremes."

Bellamy couldn't help but laugh, even as the subsiding pain flared up again and the memory came back to him. He'd been taking a stroll through the plaza, trying to clear his head, which had been aching then, too (stupid exams, stupid, stupid, stupid fucking master thesis) when suddenly the world had gone black before his eyes and he could feel his legs give out underneath him. "Well, I did make an impression, didn't I?" he quipped, but his pink cheeks betrayed his shame. The angel laughed. "I'm sorry for intruding on your afternoon, I'm sure you have so much better stuff to do than this." He waved vaguely at himself.

"Actually, it was a nice break. I was trying to clear my head from the exams, and you provided the ultimate distraction."

Bellamy laughed, sitting up slowly, her steady hands helping him up. "Well, then we are on the same page on that one."

She inspected him for a long time. "So why did you faint? If it wasn't to grab my attention?"

He laughed again. "I don't know. I had a headache and then I just went down."

"How long's it been since you ate and drank anything?" Her question left him stunned, as he tried to remember. His day had been a blur of history books, dates and names too complicated to remember and he wasn't sure if he ate at all... Before he could say a word, she nodded, digging in her bag. "I see. Listen, if you want to get through your exams you have to keep your energy up. Studying doesn't feel like you're doing much, but it'll dehydrate you faster than any sport." She thrust a bottle of water in his hands and looked at him sternly until he drank everything.

(After which, he felt a lot better, but he wasn't going to admit that in a hurry. Her company helped, too.)

"Thanks." he said. Then, with her guidance, he stood up and sat down on the stones before the fountain. She joined him. "Guess it just slipped my mind."

The woman smiled kindly at him. "Trust me, I've been there. Finals suck, huh?"

"Oh yeah." he said, with no small amount of hate in his voice. He loved history, but the exams and essays he had to do were unreal. "So is this your final year?"

She shook her head, then nodded, making him chuckle in confusion. "Well, it is for my bachelor. But after this I'm going to get my Master's degree, so not really." Bellamy nodded. "What are you studying?"

"Ancient History, I'm doing my Master's right now. You?"

"Art. And after this I'm going to Master in Liberal Arts and Sciences."

"Cool." he said. And then they sat a while, in silence.

He was even startled when she began talking again, so emerged was he in the peace of the water clattering behind him and the comfortable silence between them. "I was gonna grab a bite at Grounders. Wanna come?"

Bellamy's face broke into an unbidden grin. "I would love that."

She stood up immediately. "Well, come on then, nerd."

"Nerd?" he said, offended and outraged, as he jumped up to catch up with her. "Excuse me, Princess, what makes you think I'm a nerd?"

She looked slightly affronted by the nickname, but didn't immediately comment on it. "You study history. Of course you are." She threw him a sly smirk. "But don't worry, I've always had a thing for nerds."

Bellamy just stood there for a moment, flabbergasted. She was a spitfire who could give O a run for her money – well, no. Nobody could do that. But she came pretty close. He caught up with her again, grinning slightly. "I'm Bellamy, by the way. Bellamy Blake." he said, making sure to whisper it in her ear. To his satisfaction, he saw her shiver a bit.

But she didn't back down. "Clarke." she said. "Clarke Griffin."

"Well, Clarke Griffin, why don't you lead the way?"

With a grin, she did, and Bellamy followed her to the bar. He was thoroughly intrigued by this angel with fire in her veins and ached to find out everything there was to know about her.

(Little did he know, he would still be finding out stuff about her three years later, when she beat him to the punch, went down on one knee and asked him to marry her. He said 'yes', of course, but not before a lot of complaining about the ring he'd held in his pocket the entire night.

They giggled about that one for years after that. That's when O declared them officially crazy.)