Chlark Fanfic: All The Way, Chapter 3

[babydee1]

Hi everyone!

I'm still on Hiatus, but I had this update lying around and figured some of you might like to read it. ;-)

Enjoy!

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 bid $50 and won this Chlark story from me in an auction.

 

 

Read previous chapter here.

Read story from the beginning here.

 

 

Chapter 3

The First Fight

 

Love and learn

That’s what we will do

Love and learn

Through the flood and through the flame…

 

- Steven Curtis Chapman, Love and Learn

 

 

As soon as the bell rang to signal the end of the day, Clark grabbed Chloe’s hand and led her through the teeming throng of students towards the school buses.

 

“This way,” he said seriously.  “The buses for Freshmen are round the back of the building.” 

 

Chloe frowned.  “That doesn’t seem fair,” she said grimly.  “We’re the youngest ones in school, why do have to walk the furthest distance?  What about all the bigger kids with longer legs that just stumble straight out the door and into the bus of their choice?”

 

Clark shrugged.  “Dunno.  That’s the way it’s always been done, as far as I know.” 

 

“And no one thought to point it out, or complain to the principal about it?”  Chloe retorted. 

 

Clark shook his head.  “No one wants to mess with the status quo, I guess.”

 

“Huh.”  She stared in disgust as a group of jocks in letterman sweaters bounded into the closest of the school buses, their arms around giggly cheerleaders, and shook her head.  “Things have gotta change around here,” she announced decisively.

 

“You won’t be very popular if you tick off the football team,” he warned.  “They rule the school, and flatten anything and anyone that gets in their way.”

 

To his surprise, Chloe’s eyes lit up and grinned widely.  “Oh, bring it!” she exclaimed.  “I’m not scared of a bunch of brainless ball-toting bozos.” 

 

Clark stopped short and stared at her.  “Bunch of brainless ball-togting bozos,” he repeated, and smiled.  “I like it.  You say the funniest things, Chloe.” 

 

She winked.  “Gotta love alliteration.” 

 

Clark felt his own grin widening as they strolled towards the freshman school buses.  He’d never had any friends who were girls, because he’d never known how to talk to them.  The only girl he ever saw on a regular basis was Lana, and that was mainly from afar because he always got so tongue-tied and nervy around her. 

 

But Chloe…his brow furrowed as he tried to put his finger on the instant connection they’d had.  It was strange, but he felt as if he’d known her all his life.  She was cute, smart, fun, and…what was that word Dad always used to describe those TV lawyers?  Articulate, that was it.  Witty and articulate.  Chloe was awesome - for a girl.  He could really get used to having her around. 

 

“So which one is yours?” she was saying, gesturing towards the row of buses at the back of the building. 

 

“Um…” he glanced towards the large yellow vehicles and flushed guiltily.  Truth be told, he hardly ever used the buses because he didn’t need to; he was faster than all of them combined.  But nobody knew that; not even Pete, his best friend. 

 

Speaking of Pete…

 

Clark’s guilty flush deepened when he saw his friend a few buses down, searching the crowd for him.  They were both supposed to be going to Pete’s house afterward to try out the brand new PlayStation that Pete’s older brothers had gotten him for his birthday last week.  Up until this morning, Clark couldn’t have thought of a better way to spend his afternoon.

 

But that was before he’d met Chloe. 

 

“Clark?” she said, her voice filtering into his thoughts.  “Which one are we taking?” 

 

Clark cast one last guilty look in Pete’s direction before grabbing Chloe’s hand and dashing up the stairs of the nearest school bus to them.  “This one,” he replied.  “This is the one I usually go on.”

 

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the bus driver piped up to ruin his credibility.  “Well, hello stranger!” he boomed.  “Haven’t seen you in more than a month, Kent.  Where you been hidin’?” 

 

Chloe raised a wry brow and gave him a sidelong glance.  Clark ducked his head and headed for a seat, not daring to glance up as Chloe sidled into the seat next to him and folded her arms around her rucksack.

 

He tapped his foot nervously on the floor and studiously avoided her pointed gaze.  He knew, just knew that she was going to tear strips out of him for his little fib, and he wasn’t far off the mark.  As soon as the bus rolled off, she went for the jugular.

 

“You lied to me,” she stated flatly.  “Why?”

 

Clark huddled lower in his seat and clutched at the strap of his rucksack.  “Sorry,” he mumbled. 

 

“Forgiven, but you still didn’t answer the question.” 

 

Man, she was persistent.  He shrugged.  “I just don’t really have a ‘usual’ bus that I go on, okay?”

 

“Then why didn’t you just say that, instead of lying?” she persisted.

 

“Am I on trial here?” he asked angrily, making her jump.

 

“Gee, someone’s defensive,” she snarked.  “Wonder why.  What are you hiding, Clark?”

 

“I’m not defensive, and I’m not hiding anything, I just don’t like being interrogated!” he all but shouted.

 

“Alright, alright!” she exclaimed, holding her hands up in mock surrender.  “Yeesh, it was just a question!”

 

“More like five!” he yelled.

 

“Well, if you hadn’t lied, it would have been just the one, wouldn’t it?” she shot back smartly. 

 

Clark opened his mouth to answer, but suddenly became aware of the deafening sound of silence in the air.  He and Chloe slowly turned and stared as all the other occupants of the bus openly and avidly listened in on the entire conversation. 

 

“Ooh, fight!” one girl squealed excitedly, which was followed up by chants of “Fight! Fight!! Fight!!!” from the group of girls around her, and then the entire bus followed suit.

 

Red-faced and fuming, Clark sank back into his seat and stared straight ahead, clutching his rucksack like a lifeline.  Chloe did the same, a mutinous frown on her pretty face. 

 

“What, not fighting anymore?” someone else piped up.  “Aw, man, that blows!  I thought this was gonna be a fun ride home!”

 

Clark glanced warily across at Chloe, who timidly met his gaze.  The fight had faded from her eyes, and she now resembled a scolded puppy.  She looked so sweet and woebegone that he felt the corners of his lips begin to rise in a smile, and he was delighted when her own eyes began to sparkle and a grin forced its way to her mouth. 

 

He grinned back, and they simultaneously burst out laughing.  And she had a lovely laugh; a genuine laugh, like…like daffodils and sunshine.  Whatever that meant. 

 

Who would have thought it; Clark Kent was having fun – with a girl.  And not just having fun; he was totally and completely enchanted with the lively young blonde who’d entered his life and, within seconds, had made herself a part of it without him even realising.

 

It was fate, he decided, that he’d been walking down the hall at the exact moment that Principal Kwan had been looking for a newbie guide.  This was just the start of a fabulous friendship that would endure for many years to come.  He was sure of it, and he’d never felt luckier.

 

 

I remember what you wore on your first day

I looked into your eyes and I thought, ‘hey…,

This could be something’…”

 

 - Two is Better than One, by Boys Like Girls feat. Taylor Swift

 

***

 

 

 “Can you believe it?” Chloe chirped with a smile after the laughter had died down.  “We just had our first fight!”

 

Clark grinned and nodded.  “We totally did.  And our first post-fight make-up, too.  I wonder what other firsts we’re gonna cover today.”

 

“Kiss!” someone yelled from the back row, startling them.  “Kiss and make up!”

 

“Yeah, kiss!” shouted another, immediately prompting a new chant of “Kiss! Kiss!! Kiss!!!” from the young travellers.

 

“Are they still listening?” Clark asked Chloe in horror.

 

“Uh, only like…yeah!” a curly redhead answered flippantly above the kiss-chants.

 

“Way to go, Clark,” Chloe said, amused.  “You just had to pick the one bus that’s entirely populated by prepubescent girls, didn’t you?”

 

Clark glanced around and noticed that he was indeed the only occupant of the bus (other than the driver) who possessed a Y-chromosome.

 

“Oh, God!” he groaned, and buried his face in her hands.  Chloe chuckled patted his arm. 

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle this.”  She got to her feet and turned around to face the mass of giggling girls.  “Okay, okay, show’s over, girlies.  Thank you, thank you…no autographs, please.  Thanks.”

 

“Spoilsport!” sneered one girl.

 

“Chicken!!” cried another.

 

“Kiss him!  Kiss him!!” the chants continued.

 

“Hey!” boomed the driver through the public address system.  “There will be no kissing on this bus!  Keep your lips to yourselves, or it’ll be a long walk home, ladies!”

 

Everyone on the bus, sans Clark and Chloe, jeered and booed while giving the driver the thumbs-down, but eventually settled into their seats.  Chloe heaved a sigh of relief and sat down on the seat behind him, tapping him on the shoulder. 

 

“Hey,” she said softly.  “Crisis averted.  You can lift your head up now.”

 

 “Have they stopped?” he whispered from under his arms. 

 

“Yup.  I think everyone’s found something better to do than watch the Clark and Chloe show.”

 

Gingerly he raised his head, breathing deeply when he realised that everyone had gotten back to whatever they’d been doing before getting distracted by their squabble. 

 

“Phew,” he said, relieved.  “That was embarrassing.”

 

She nodded her agreement.  “I’ll say.  Kiss you?  I can’t kiss you, we just met!”

 

He grinned, and just stared at her for several seconds, finding his gaze drawn to her smiling mouth and thinking of what it would feel like if he’d done as everyone asked and kissed her. 

 

Whoa.  Where had that thought come from?  His smile faded slightly and he pursed his lips as if worried they might just find their way to hers of their own accord.

 

“I shouldn’t have turned you into an interview subject,” Chloe suddenly said, her eyes turning serious.  “I’m sorry, Clark.”

 

He shook his head.  “You’ve got nothing to apologise for, Chloe,” he replied gently.  “You’re right; I shouldn’t have lied to you.” 

 

She extended her hand to him.  “Friends again?” 

 

He grinned and slipped his hand into hers.  “Friends again.”  

 

 

This world will turn, and the seasons will change

But there’s nothing we can’t get through

As long as we both hold on…to each other

And take a lifetime to love and learn

 

***

 

Clark heaved a sigh of relief, pleased that their little spat was over.  He glanced over at Chloe who was drumming her fingers on the back of the chair in front of her, a curious look on her face.  She looked as if she desperately wanted to say something, but was trying to curtail herself.  He had a sneaky feeling her self-imposed restraint wouldn’t last long.

 

He was right.

 

“Okay, at the risk of another bust up with you, why did you lie to me?” she blurted out, unable to keep it in any longer.  “I mean, it wasn’t a life or death question.” 

 

Clark took a deep breath and glanced down at his shoes.  “Bad habit, I guess,” he finally answered.  “I’m adopted, you see, and I get asked a lot of questions about my past that I can’t answer.”  He paused and shrugged.  “Sometimes it’s just easier to lie.” 

 

Chloe’s gaze softened and she laid a hand on his arm.  “I understand,” she said softly.  “My Mom left when I was little, and when people would ask me where she was, I’d say she was on vacation or something.  I just didn’t know what else to say.” 

 

Clark’s heart sank at her wistful expression.  He couldn’t understand how anyone could ever walk away from such an amazing girl.

 

“So who do you live with now?” he asked. 

 

“My dad,” she replied with a wide smile.  “He’s amazing.  After Mom left he learned how to cook and clean and everything.  The only thing he couldn’t get around was my hair.”

 

“Your hair?” he glanced at her tousled, flippy locks and frowned.  “It’s short.  What’s there to get around?”

 

“Gee, thanks,” she said wryly.  “It wasn’t always short.  I had hair all the way down to my butt, but after Mom left, Dad didn’t know how to manage it, so he took me for a salon cut and hey, it’s been fun ever since.” 

 

Clark stared at her, trying to imagine her with a long blonde ponytail, and failing.  “I like your hair like this,” he declared.  “It suits you.”

 

Her hazel-green eyes brightened.  “Really?” she asked.

 

He nodded.  “Yeah…it does.  It makes you look like a…like, uh…” he paused and scratched his head, a sudden feeling of déjà vu stealing over him.  He’d had this conversation before…

 

“Hickory Lane!” bellowed the driver, breaking him out of his stance.  Clark blinked and looked around as the vehicle stopped at the end of his road.  He glanced back at Chloe, the eerie feeling slipping away.

 

“Um…well, this is this is my stop,” he said, suddenly feeling self-conscious.  “You still wanna come see the farm?” 

 

She grinned.  “Definitely!” 

 

***

 

The bus rolled away in a cloud of dust, and Clark pointed down the long lane to the yellow brick house at the end.  “That’s it; that’s where I live,” he said. 

 

“I like it,” she said, tilting her head.  “It looks…homey.” 

 

He sighed in resignation, but she quickly added, “That’s a good thing!  I wasn’t being condescending, it’s a compliment.  Really.  It feels warm and welcoming, like your favourite snuggly blanket.  Am I making sense?”

 

“Kinda, I guess.” 

 

She nodded.  “I really do like it, Clark.”

 

He grinned.  “Thanks.”  They started walking towards the house, their shoes crunching over leaves and gravel.

 

“What does my hair make me look like?” she broke in suddenly.

 

His head snapped up.  “What?”

 

“On the bus, you were saying my hair made me look like…?” she gestured and waited for him to complete the sentence.

 

“Oh, that.”  He racked his brains, wondering what it was he had been about to compare her to.   But it was gone.

 

“I can’t remember,” he said at last.  “But I’m sure it was something good.” 

 

***

 

Chapter 4…