So this was inspired by Chicago Fire and I've also written this sort of storyline before, but I wanted to work it out again with Bellarke, because it's too hot not to do!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, only the mistakes.

"Attention! Attention!" The radio on the dashboard crackled to life. "There is a fire at Hotel Aries, on the corner of Pritchard and Quay. We need an available unit to report in immediately."

"This is Firehouse 49 responding," came a strong voice back through the radio. "Chief Kane responding. We are on route." Confirmation of that came through on the public radio, and then the comm unit for them privately sounded. "Griffin! Blake! You there?" He barked at them. Octavia Blake leaned forward and snatched it up. "Report, Ambulance 41!"

"We're here! We're on route, approx five minutes out!" Octavia responded shortly.

"Copy that!" Kane snapped at them and then the line fizzled out.

"Better step on it," Octavia commented, looking over at her partner.

"Fucking aye," Clarke Griffin agreed as she reached over to flip on the siren. The blonde's eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she navigated the night time traffic. People moved out of the way for the ambulance as they sped through the city of Ark. Two fire trucks were already pulled up outside, two of the newer firefighters handling the crowds and pushing them backwards; Jasper Jordan and Monty Green. The sirens and the blaze of the fire was filling the dark night with a burning light, and Clarke let out a low whistle through her teeth as she saw how bad it was. The blaze had already reached the sixth floor, so it must have been burning inside for sometime before anyone noticed it and contacted 911.

"Shit," Octavia grunted. But the two girls quickly snapped out of it and turned to the two boys.

"Is there anyone that has been pulled out yet?" Clarke snapped.

"Over there!" Jasper shouted above the noise of the sirens and the shouts and chatter of the amassing crowds. There was already two other ambulances there, which was good, because they were paramedics that Clarke and Octavia worked with regularly and they found a good rhythm with each other. There were about twenty people huddled with a couple of police officers, all who had been living in the building, and most of them were fine, although several were suffering from smoke inhalation. Clarke and Octavia set about checking out each of the people, working with the other paramedics.

The whole thing looked like a shambles, from anyone looking in, but they always had plans in their head and a way of doing things. Each person a firefighter brought out was assessed instantly, and then sorted in order of priority.

Clarke's body was buzzing with adrenaline, just like it always did when they were thrown into situations like this—so frequently—and it made her more alert and aware of everything that was happening. She moved quickly, soothing the whimpers of a little girl who was crying about her toy bunny rabbit that she had left in her bedroom, wiping down the couple of scrapes and cuts that she had on her arms and face. The girls mother was there, tears streaming down her face, stuck in this state of shock, repeating over and over again that her husband was still inside.

"Ma'am, right now, you need to concentrate on your daughter," Clarke's voice was gentle but firm, needing to move onto the next person. The woman was still staring blankly at the burning building and Clarke snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Ma'am! Your daughter needs you right now!" She couldn't leave the little girl alone if this woman couldn't look after her. She seemed to manage to get the womans attention because she jerked her head in a nod and put an arm around the little girl.

"Clarke! We've got another one here!" Lincoln Whittle shouted, carrying a girl over to Clarke, who rushed to his side to take the girl from her.

"You doing okay?" Clarke asked Lincoln as helped to steady the girl.

"Yeah, but it's coming down fast," Lincoln growled before he took off running back into the building, snapping down the visor of his helmet. Clarke looked after his bulky figure, disappearing into the burning building for a moment before shifting her attention back to the girl. Things moved far too quickly in their line of work for them to worry about each other while they were caught up in the moment, and they needed to push all that aside for later. Right now, the priority for the firefighters was to get everyone out of the building and the paramedics job to get everyone onsite examined and on their way to the hospital if needed.

"Two more responders are on their way," Lexa Carey told Clarke. "We're heading back to Ark General."

"Okay," Clarke called before looking back down at the man she was tending to. She ripped off the sleeve of his shirt and began to wipe down the burn on his forearm. "We're going to get you moved to the back of the ambulance, okay?" Clarke gave the man a comforting smile as she nodded over to the back of the rig where the doors were wide open. "Can you get him fixed up with an clean air bag?" Clarke asked Anya Lachman, who nodded and took over caring for the patient.

It seemed as though the building was being renovated, so a lot of the higher floors were empty, but there were still men inside. An ambulance was pulling away from the curb, leaving only Clarke and Octavia behind to tend to anyone left behind and the firefighters.

"Blake!" Marcus barked into his walkie talkie. "Blake, get your ass out of there now!" Clarke was distracted by the chief, who was glaring up at a ladder which had been extended to one of the upper floors. "Blake! That smoke has turned black! Get your ass down here!" Clarke swallowed hard and looked over to where her partner, Octavia, was standing next to her boyfriend, who was throwing water over his face, wiping away the sweat.

Clarke could hear John Murphy, who was braced on the ladder, shouting at Bellamy Blake, who was clearly still inside the building. Clarke lifted her eyes to look at the smoke that was billowing out the window. The smoke had turned incredibly dense and she knew from experience that it was about to turn even more deadly that it was at the moment.

As in, glass blowing out the windows and eating everyone inside alive.

"There's a kid in here, chief!" Came a bark down the radio.

Bellamy.

"Fuck," Clarke muttered and met Octavia's gaze. Her brother was still in there, and both of them knew that there was no way that he was going to come out without that child.

"I'm going up there," Lincoln muttered, grabbing his helmet from where he had rested it down on.

"Don't even think about it, Whittle!" Kane shouted over at him and Octavia grabbed his arm.

"Lincoln," she muttered, shaking her head.

"He'll get out," Monty said as he came to stand next to Clarke. "He always gets out."

"Blake!" Marcus repeated into his walkie talkie. "Murphy—can you see him?!" He tried a different tactic, now talking to the second in command of the Squad team, who was shouting through the broken window after his lieutenant.

"I think so, sir!" John shouted back through the comm unit.

"For fucks sakes!" Marcus spat out, kicking angrily at debris on the ground before looking back up. "This is an order, Lieutenant Blake! Get out of there now!"

"Coming, sir!" Came a pant suddenly through the comm unit. "I've got the kid." Octavia let out a relieved sigh and there was a huff of laughter from behind Clarke.

"Son of a bitch," Jasper shook his head. Clarke still wasn't breathing easy though, her eyes trained on the window where John was still waiting on the ladder, stretching forward. He must be able to see Bellamy inside because he was reaching through the window. A moment later, the child was being passed out and John took it from the arms coming out the window, transferring the child from the burning building to the safety of the ladder. One leg came out, and then suddenly there was a crack and a bang and the black smoke led to the exact place where Chief Kane had been fearing it would.

An explosion.

"Blake!" Marcus shouted, more into the night than into his walkie talkie.

"Bellamy!" Octavia jumped forward, so close to the building that she almost got hit with falling glass. Lincoln reached out and collared her, jerking her backwards and glaring at her. The firefighters on the ground stared up tensely at the ladder, only able to make out the shadows of John and the kid because they had already started making their way down the ladder.

Clarke's stomach was twisting so hard she thought that she might throw up.

This happened almost every time they were out on a job, but that didn't mean it made it any easier.

It was only years of training that stopped her from acting on her emotions and remaining still, forcing herself not to draw in conclusions until the smoke cleared.

And there he was.

Clarke swallowed hard as she heard a gleeful whoop behind her.

"Bellamy Blake does it again," she muttered sarcastically under her breath, as she spun on her heel and headed back toward the front of her rig. "Defying the orders of his chief and risking his life to be the big hero." She slammed open her door and got inside, rolling her eyes in a mixture of annoyance and relief. "Jackass," she spat out.

Octavia had taken care of the burns that had managed to get through the heavy duty firefighters uniform her brother had been wearing. There had only been two spots where it had got through, and neither of the burns were serious at all, but she had still diligently patched him up, despite his protests. After they all got back to the firehouse—both fire trucks as well as the Ambulance 41—they went to the changing rooms and showered and got into their street clothes. The call out had come at the end of most of their shifts, except for Monty and John, who just went to the common room and turned on the TV. After changing, Chief Kane reamed Bellamy out in his office, loud enough for the whole firehouse to hear.

That wasn't unusual.

Bellamy had a way of going against rules and bending them when it suited him. He had so many black marks against his name, that if it wasn't matched and then surpassed by the commendations and awards that he had received, he would be out of a job. But he was one of the best, and so when things like what happened tonight occurred—things that would usually have men benched or even worse, suspended—all he got was a yelling at.

But Bellamy knew it wasn't over.

The worse was to come.

It was just after two by the time he got out of the Chiefs office and started to wind his way through the firehouse, toward the exit. He said goodnight to Monty and John, who were taking bets on who was going to win the boxing match that was playing on TV and grabbed his leather jacket from where it was hooked over the back of a seat. He pulled it on and walked out into the main garage where the trucks were parked and getting washed down by Jordan and one of the other newbies. He had almost reached the roller doors when an arm lashed out and grabbed his forearm, dragging him to the side and into the cloak room, where all of their uniforms and helmets were kept.

"Bellamy Blake," snapped a very familiar voice. "You need to be more fucking careful. One day, I'm going to stop fucking caring when you decide to go above and beyond and go against what your fucking chief is telling you is best! If anyone understands that it's normal for you to put your life on the line every single day because it's your job, it's me—but you are just so fucking reckless at times—" Clarke's tirade was broken off as Blake smacked his mouth down on hers, pushing her backwards until her back hit the hard wall created by the heavy hanging uniforms.

"I'm sorry I got you worried, Clarke," Bellamy whispered as he wrapped his hands around her waist and squeezed her ass, rubbing himself against her. "I'm sorry, baby." Clarke was trying to push him away, bracing her hands against his chest and glaring at him but he was easily fighting against her, catching her lower lip between his teeth.

"You need to be more careful, Bellamy!" She cried as one of his hands slid down the front of her jeans, twisting around in the lacy underwear that she was wearing. "Bellamy—I'm—" she broke off with a gasp as one of his fingers rubbed between her lower lips. "Bellamy, I'm serious!" She tried to hiss it out angrily, but it was torn in half by a moan as he pinched her clit.

"I'm sorry, baby," he repeated, managing to twist his hand at such an angle that he could enter her with two fingers, despite her jeans still being zipped and buttoned. "I'm sorry," he caught her earlobe in his teeth and tugged, still pumping his fingers into her as his tongue licked a path down her long neck, biting at the smooth skin, tasting the ivory flesh over her collar bone. Clarke's hands found his shoulders, squeezing her nails in through the leather of his jacket as he curled his fingers inside of her, quickly bringing her to the edge and her cum soaking through her underwear and dampening his hand. Clarke let her head slump backwards, breathing heavily, her cheeks flushed and her eyes partially closed. Bellamy pulled his hand out of her pants, wiping it on his jeans before lifting his other hand to take her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping her face towards his. "I couldn't leave that kid in there."

"I know," Clarke admitted quietly.

"I would never be able to live with myself," Bellamy continued, his voice strained.

"I know," Clarke repeated softly, nodding slightly.

"That's why I do this—why we do this. To help people," he added.

"I know," Clarke said one last time, lifting her hand to cover his and giving it a light squeeze. "And that's why I love you."

"I love you too, baby," Bellamy whispered, giving her a quick kiss on the mouth. They stared at each other for a few moments longer, their eyes both soft and dewy before Bellamy's lips were curving upwards in a cheeky smile. "So you wanna go home and finish this off?" He smirked at her. Clarke rolled her eyes but smiled back at him and nodded her head. She quickly readjusted her clothing and he took her hand, leading her out of the cloakroom and then both of them stopping when they saw Lincoln and Octavia standing there, smug looks on their faces. Clarke had the decency to blush at being caught, but Bellamy was just grinning.

"You two are going to be married in less than a month," Octavia stated with a mock disgusted tone. "You should start acting like mature adults and not like horny teenagers."

"Eh," Bellamy smacked Clarke firmly on the ass and then danced away when she went to punch him on the arm in response. "What can I say? I can't get enough of this girl."

"Clearly," Octavia rolled her eyes and then grinned as she linked her arm with Lincoln and the four of them walked out of Firehouse 49 together.

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