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Merry Christmas, Baby

A/N: So... I wrote this while drinking wine. A LOT of wine. I closed on my new house on Thursday, spent all day Friday dealing with contractors and the likes of all that wonderfulness. Saturday, I drank wine while painting my bedroom and staring at my ceiling hating it, I needed A LOT of wine. So this was the outcome of wine induced writing... is that a thing? Wine infused writing? That's the winner. This is the outcome of wine infused writing... and possibly listening to some rap music... It's in there... I think I'm still a little drunk.

"Are you sure about Bellamy?" was the first question out of Abby's mouth when they arrived at the spa on December 26th.

"What?"

"To father your child, to be there for you through it all?"

"Jesus, Mom, yes. He's going to be a great dad, I just don't think that now is the right time."

"When is the right time?"

"Not when we're finally getting our acts together as a couple. I'm twenty-five, I don't want a child yet, I want to be able to relax and go on amazing vacations with my boyfriend. We were talking about going to Thailand on the flight here, we can't do that with a baby."

"There's a lot you can't do with a baby around, Clarke. You have options."

"I know, but I can't make a decision without telling Bellamy. He's the father, he deserves to know."

Abby nodded, "So when are you telling him?"

"I don't know," she shook her head, deciding on the Enchantment package because she didn't want to wait around for Abby who always picks the Nirvana package. Same duration, less interaction.

Clarke should have known better than to tell her mother about her pregnancy because the entire four hours, Abby wouldn't stop asking questions that Clarke didn't have the answers to and it was more stressful than it should have been. They're at a spa for goodness sake! The whole point was to relax and destress, the complete opposite to what actually happened.

Walking into the house afterwards, Clarke went straight to her room and collapsed onto her bed, closing her eyes in hopes to forget the entire afternoon.

"You okay?" Bellamy asked a minute later.

"How was your day?"

"Apparently not as bad as yours."

"My mother wouldn't stop grilling me about you, all four hours of our spa relaxation, let's just say, I desperately need you to fuck me stupid."

"I can arrange that," he chuckled. "How would you feel about a little Utah getaway?"

"Utah?"

"Yeah, I have a meeting in Salt Lake City on the third and I thought since we were scheduled to go back to LA on the second, we could just go to Park City for a few days, just you and me."

"This is for work?"

"An hour, two max on the morning of the third, you'll still be asleep."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm your boss, I could tell you that you have to do it."

"Totalitarian," Clarke chuckled before remembering her afternoon. "Will you hold me? I need you."

"Am I holding you or fucking you?"

"Hold me now, fuck me later."

Bellamy nodded, climbing onto the bed next to Clarke who turned onto her side for him to wrap his arms around her.

"You don't want to talk about it?"

"She's... she doesn't know how to let go. She still sees me as this twelve year old little girl that worshipped the ground she walked on because I was so entranced by the magic of surgery. I'm not that girl anymore, I haven't been for a decade. I went to med school to try and please her but I couldn't. My heart wasn't in it."