Chlark Fanfic: All The Way, Chapter 2
So, for the puposes of this story, I wish to let you all know that I shall be shamelessly pilfering pictures of Jess & Leslie from Bridge to Terabithia as my Young!Chlark (see icon). Alas, that child with the bad wig in Abyss was not my Chloe. Though, to be honest, the little boy who played Clark in that episode did appear to have BDA tendencies...;-)
...Ignore me, I ramble when I get tired. :-D
Enjoy! Awesome banner by summerstar882 . Thanks again, babes!
Title: All The Way
Author: BabyDee
Pairing: Chlark
Rating: PG13 (for now)
Warnings: None
Timeline: All Seasons. Works as a sequel to Daisychain.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CW & DC comics.
Summary: Chlark: as they were, are and ever should be.
Feedback: …makes me squee. J
Author’s note: written for ellyfanfiction, who won a Chlark story from me in an auction.
Read Chapter 1 here.
Chapter 2
The First Time
The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes…
- ‘The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face’, by Roberta Flack
Chloe’s jaw dropped and she stared in wonder into eyes as green as sparkling emeralds. He was a vision of beauty, this boy, plain and simple. With his enviably thick, dark hair, long, sweeping lashes and gorgeously full lips, he could take over the world. He wasn’t much taller than she was, but he was pretty well-built for a thirteen-year old, with a solid frame and a wide chest she was just itching to get her hands on. Instinctively she clenched her fists and held her hands behind her back, terrified that her saucy thoughts might show on her warming face.
Clark didn’t seem to be faring much better. He clutched his rucksack tightly and stared back at her, his eyes and mouth wide open. He looked like a fish that had been rudely removed from the ocean and dumped unceremoniously on dry land to gasp its little life away.
Principal Kwan nudged Clark in the back and frowned disapprovingly. “Manners, Clark…”
Clark blinked a couple of times and then seemed to find his voice - and the hinge in his jaw. “Hi,” he said softly, stepping forward and holding out his hand to her. “I’m Clark.”
Chloe managed to roll her own tongue back into her head and grinned. “I’m Chloe,” she replied warmly, extending her hand toward his outstretched one.
Clark clasped her hand, his palm warm and surprisingly soft for a boy’s, and she tightened her fingers around his in a firm handshake.
And then the most amazing thing happened. Clark smiled, a grin so wide and so bright that Chloe could have sworn someone stole the sun out of the sky and hid it in his head. She stared at him, utterly transfixed.
Hands touch; eyes meet
Sudden silence, sudden heat
Hearts leap in a giddy whirl
He could be that boy…
- I’m Not That Girl, by Idina Menzel (Wicked Original Broadway Cast)
***
Principal Kwan droned on about how she’d just moved here from Metropolis, and said something about Clark’s status, but she certainly wasn’t listening, and she didn’t think Clark was, either. For some reason, she just couldn’t stop staring at him; worse, she was sure she smiling at him like some desperate beauty pageant contestant. The only consolation was that he seemed to be suffering from the same affliction that she was, because he was sporting the world’s Goofiest Grin Ever.
“Chloe,” Clark said, trying her name out on his tongue. He sounded a little scratchy; clearly puberty was doing a number on his breaking voice. “It’s really pretty.”
Chloe’s face warmed further until she was sure she could easily fry an egg on her cheek. “Thanks,” she said shyly, still holding his hand. “I like your name, too.”
“Well!” boomed Principal Kwan, jarring them out of the moment as he ushered them out of his office. “Now that the pleasantries have been exchanged, I’m sure you’ll both be very good friends. Clark? Over to you. Chloe would especially like to see the Torch, so take her there first. Chloe? Welcome to Smallville High, and I hope you enjoy it here very much.”
***
The Torch
The Principal’s door closed quietly behind them, and they found themselves standing in the hallway, hands still linked. The stood there for a few seconds, staring at each other, until snickering from passing students alerted them to the fact that they probably looked like boyfriend and girlfriend. Simultaneously, they let go of each other’s hands and took a quick step back, which made them both laugh at the same time as well.
“Jinx!” they chorused, and chuckled again, glancing at each other with smiles.
“So, er -” he began.
“Where can I -?” she started, and they laughed yet again.
“Sorry, you first,” he said gallantly when the laughter had subsided.
“Thank you. Um, where in Smallville can I get the Daily Planet?” she asked. “It’s my favourite newspaper.”
He stared at her in surprise. “You read newspapers?”
She stared at him condescendingly. “You don’t?”
His face reddened. “Not really. They’re kinda boring.”
She shook her head. “Not the Daily Planet,” she declared as they walked slowly along the corridor. “That’s the world’s best newspaper ever. There’s always something going on in the world, and The Planet’s always the first newspaper to hear about it.”
“Well, I expect you’d want to know where to avoid in the City, seeing as how dangerous it is,” he said a touch frostily.
“Hey! Metropolis is not violent!” she said defensively. “I lived there my whole life, and never got mugged!”
“Maybe, but can you go out for the whole day and leave your door unlocked?” he challenged.
Busted. “Umm…”
He grinned triumphantly. “Well, I can,” he said smugly. “We leave our door open all the time, and no-one steals our stuff.”
“Yeah, right,” she snorted disdainfully. “You probably live on a backwoods dairy farm at least five kilometres from civilisation in every direction, right?”
Clark looked startled and stared at the floor, downcast, and her eyes widened in dismay.
“Oh, no. You do live on a farm, don’t you?” she exclaimed, feeling really bad. “I’m sorry, Clark. I didn’t mean to make fun of where you live, I just never expected…”
He shrugged. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “You didn’t mean it.”
“But it was very rude of me, and I’m sorry,” she said sadly. “Look, to be honest, I don’t really know much about farms, and I’m intrigued that you can leave your doors open and not have to worry about criminals.”
He smiled. “I like living there, it’s really nice; lots of wide open space, and I have my own loft all to myself…”
“You have your own loft?” she said, amazed.
He nodded. “I can show it to you, if you’d like,” he offered. “Tell you what; how about I take you to my place after school, give you the grand tour of the Kent Farm? It’s been in my Dad’s family for generations.”
“I’d love that!” she said excitedly. “I’ll just let my Dad know where I’ll be, and then I’ll have my very own tour of your lovely home.”
He grinned. “I just have to show you round school first, starting with the Torch.”
“The Torch?” she echoed. “Principal Kwan mentioned that earlier; is that the school paper?”
He nodded. “Would you like me to show you where it is?” he offered.
She nodded. “Please.” Automatically she reached for his hand and he took it, almost as though they’d done this a thousand times before. They’d taken about three strides before they realised, and let go of each other again, giggling.
He walked her down the hall to a blue door with a ridiculous-looking caped crow on it. “There it is,” he said, pointing to the door.
Chloe walked up to the door and stared at it, fascinated. The bird appeared to be in mid-flight, and was bearing a flaming Olympic torch with the words ‘For the Cause of Truth and Justice’ emblazoned on it.
“Like a beacon of light,” she whispered. “I like it.”
He smiled. “Me too. Do you have the keys?”
“Oh, yeah.” She dug them out of the pocket of her combat pants and opened the door, walking in slowly, almost reverently, and looked around.
There wasn’t really much to the room, as rooms went. It was all dusty, and smelled faintly of mildew. There were two desks with rusty old computers on them that she strongly suspected might still be of the MS-DOS persuasion. A sad-looking placement board rested in one corner beside two filing cabinets, and there was a notice board on the wall which had a grand and glorious total of three yellowing newspaper clippings attached to it.
Clark shuffled his feet beside her, obviously embarrassed at the forlorn-looking room. “I know it’s not much,” he began apologetically, “but-”
“It’s perfect,” she whispered, her eyes on the notice board. “It’s the most beautiful press office I’ve ever seen. Or at least, it will be by the time I really get my hands on it.”
“I take it you have plans for this place?” he asked curiously.
She nodded. “Big plans,” she said as she walked around the room. “Huge plans.”
A lick of paint; blue, or red; maybe both…fresh tiling on the floor, and a slew of snazzy new computers, and she’d be ready to roll. Her fingers tingled in excitement and she smiled to herself. The world of journalism had better get ready; Chloe Sullivan was about to make an entrance, in style.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Clark looking at her intently and she turned to face him. He smiled, his face once again looking like it was made of harvested sunshine.
“Welcome to Smallville High, Chloe,” he said in that nice, scratchy voice of his. “I really hope you like it here.”
“Thank you, Clark,” she replied, giving him a knowing smile. “Something tells me I am gonna like it here. A lot.”
***
Chapter 3…