Not my story
He's known Clarke was some high-level spy for years now because Clarke's an incredible liar with everyone else but him.
Okay, also (mostly) because she had limped into his apartment one night with blood running down her face and after he had frantically fixed her up as best he could (with help from her labored instructions) and she had passed out on his bed (he never was able to get those blood stains out and had had to buy new everything the next day), he had sat by her bedside unable to sleep, unable to do anything but let his mind run wild about what the hell Clarke had gotten herself into. The next morning, she had tried to leave without an explanation, but he had refused to move from the door until she had given him something to go off of. (In retrospect, she was very capable of kicking his ass and making him move, but she didn't, thankfully.)
Then, the story came out and he found out that his friend was not just some traveling saleslady (which definitely explained the destinations), but was some super spy who did anything and everything, including infiltrating palaces, disarming bombs, and apparently get into "scuffles" (her word) that had left her with that gash the night before.
It took a few days to really wrap his mind around it and then she was away for a few more days, which only left him in an even more frenzied state of worry about her, but she returned without a scratch on her (except the existing one) and he told her he was cool with it. And that it was kind of hot. She hit him for that last one, but it was true. He wrote textbooks for a living, but Clarke Griffin was a spy. That was just a built in level of hot.
He made her promise to at least let him know when she'd be leaving for a mission and to check in with him when she returned because he was a worrier by heart and this was like, major worry-level news.
But honestly, it was mostly really cool because she always had stories to tell him and she taught him self defense tactics and sometimes, she'd let him listen in on a wire if nothing important was being divulged. Bellamy was pretty sure it was illegal, but he wasn't the spy and Clarke never seemed to be concerned. He followed her example. (Mostly. He was still a worrier at heart.)
And even when they started dating (it was inevitable, wasn't it, and how could he not kiss her when she finally returned from a 10-day mission in some place he couldn't even remember because all he had gotten was one static-filled phone call where she had told him that she loved him and she was sorry that this was how she was telling him because she had it all planned out but now it was all fucked up - and he had gotten nothing after that when the line went dead, so yeah, it was impossible not to kiss her, not to murmur I love you, I love you, but don't fucking ever do that to me again when she knocked on his door), it was still really cool, because he had a spy girlfriend.
And then he realized what having a spy girlfriend really meant, aside from the really cool shit he had already experienced.
It's just that sometimes he would really, really like to stay in and order takeout, instead of being whisked away in a secret van to a secret location after a secret mission.
*****
"Hi," she says when he steps out of the dark stairway leading up to the roof. She's standing in front of a table that's decked out with their nice china and candles and their nice tablecloth, in her simple black dress and her hair curling over her shoulders, and she looks amazing and his clothes are all rumpled from the toss into the van (honestly, it's like they never listen to his complaints), but she crooks a finger at him, smiles, and he loves her all over again.
"Hey," he murmurs against her mouth after he's kissed her, long and hard, missed her far too much. "How was Singapore?"
"Great, but next time, let's go together without the spy stuff," she answers, tugging at the ends of his curls. It's too long, he can hear her think, and he ducks his head down for another kiss when he hears a crackle of noise.
