Disclaimer: Chlarker here, of course I don't own Smallville or any of its characters! But just in case you don't know, I don't own Smallville guys;)
~~{(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)}~~
Chloe snaps her fingers in front of Clark's face with an almost bored sigh. It's probably her nineteenth time doing so. Okay, so it is her nineteenth time doing it. She's been keeping count. Sue her. She doesn't have much to give anyway. She doesn't even have her best friend at the moment. He's too busy moping. Yes, he's moping; and he's not even in his loft. He's at school, in the torch; her happy place; and he's making it so gloomy she'd like nothing more to just go home and take a nap.
"I'm sorry. Were you saying something?" he asks in a monotone. He doesn't look up; just keeps twirling a football around in his hands.
Chloe doesn't even get frustrated by his statement the way she'd done the first three, eleven, eighteen times. She expects it by now.
"Never mind," she tells him before bustling about to gather her jacket, her books, shutting down the computer, and doing everything else she does when it's time to leave. She even turns off the light on her way out before apologizing to Clark and turning it back on. Not that it mattered; he didn't seem to notice he'd been sitting in the dark, alone.
It irritates Chloe; pisses her off even. Lana's moving away with her aunt and her soon to be stepuncle. She hasn't died.
And with that thought buzzing around in her head, she walks up to Clark, snatches the football out of his hand throws it at his head.
Clark blinks. Getting hit in the head by a football shouldn't hurt; but he should feel it at least. But he didn't, because she missed. Chloe had been standing right in front of him, not even two feet away, not even a full foot away, and she missed him.
"I missed on purpose," Chloe says when she sees the look on his face; but Clark's brighter than Chloe thinks. In fact, even if he wasn't as bright as Chloe thought, he'd still be bright enough to know that she's lying. She threw the ball at his head while standing right in front of him; and she missed!
"I did," Chloe says a bit more forcefully; but Clark shakes his head, nonverbally letting her know that he doesn't believe her.
"Chloe, you...suck!" he laughs.
Chloe wants to be offended; a small part of her is offended, but there's an even bigger part of her that's just happy to see Clark laughing. Especially because two seconds ago she wouldn't have been able to get his undivided attention if she took her shirt off.
Now all she has to do is keep him laughing.
She can do that.
She bends over and picks the football up.
"I missed on purpose," she says again while cradling the ball in the crook of her arm.
"Sure you did," Clark teases.
Chloe keeps her smile inside. She's getting there!
"Why don't you play me then," she challenges.
He cocks his head to the side and gives her a curious look before standing up, taking the ball from her, and telling her to follow him.
She doesn't move. She's kinda shocked. She wasn't expecting him to want to play for real; because she really can't play real football.
He comes back for her; and she ignores him when he says, "Come on Chloe." She still doesn't really understand why he's calling her bluff; and he doesn't give her enough time to figure it out before grabbing her hand and pulling her along.
She lets him pull her through hallways and grassy shortcuts; and she lets him pull her all the way onto the Walt Arnold Stadium. Then she just stands there.
"Come on Chloe. I thought we were gonna play," Clark smirks at her while holding the football out.
Chloe can't help herself. She smiles back and takes the football.
He squats a little; getting into position and her eyes go wide. They're really gonna play real football? Why can't they just play catch or something? On a better note, why can't he just play catch while she watches?
"Come on Chloe, try to get passed me," Clarks grins.
Chloe nearly sighs in relief. If that's all she has to do, this might not be so hard.
She runs a little; but he touches her waist before she gets very far and says that he got her.
She turns back around with a frown on her face.
"Two-hand touch. If I touch you, you lose," he explains.
Chloe's mouth drops. She's not faster than Clark. He'll always catch her. She'll always lose.
She hates losing; more than she hates sports.
"I don't want to play two hand touch," she announces.
"You want to play tackle?" Clark asks with an intrigued eyebrow.
Tackle? He wants to tackle her now?
"Come on Chloe, I'll go easy on you," Clark grins as an answer to the shocked expression on her face. Then he squats in front of her once again, getting into position.
"Down," he calls.
She looks around before squatting reluctantly before him as well. Then he smiles at her and she begins to think this is totally worth it.
"Set," he calls even louder, then smirks when she looks around herself a little uneasily. He's most definitely enjoying this; and she's most definitely getting more nervous by the second. She can't believe he's really going to tackle her.
"Hike," he calls; and before he can even un-squat to give chase, she throws the ball at him.
"Here, you can have it," she squeaks in a semi-panicked voice.
He was really going to attack her!
"Chloe," he laughs while holding the ball out to her once again.
She shakes her head. She doesn't want the football.
"Come on Chloe, take it. I'm not going to hurt you," he grins even wider.
God, she's a sucker for that grin; a stupid, lovesick, sucker. But there's no cure for it, so she takes the ball; waits from him to yell "down, set, hike;" then she runs as fast as she can; but away from him.
"Chloe!" Clark laughs as he runs and catches up to her easily. "You're supposed to run toward me!"
Chloe keeps running. He's teasing her because she doesn't know anything about football; but she's not stupid. What sense would it make for her to run toward him? He'd catch her even faster.
"We can play this way too I guess," he chuckles softly just before wrapping his arms around her waist and falling gently on top of her.
She loses her breath. He didn't knock the wind out of her, not physically. He more or less placed her on the ground rather than tackled her; but his…he is straddling her backside.
She braces her palms against the earth and begins to push herself up. She's gotta get up, and quickly. Not that she was uncomfortable with the suggestive position; but he was comfortable with it. So comfortable, he didn't so much as get the slightest bit turned on. She would've felt it if he had.
She's a little upset, pride-wise, but she also knows he's Lana's. Mind, soul, and body. Seriously, only Clark Kent can have his man part pressed against a girl's part and his man part won't have a reaction because he's with the wrong girl.
"You okay?" He grins at her as she dusts herself off.
She kinda doesn't want to smile back at him. He got her all dirty; and it wasn't even worth it. But she does it anyway.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she answers; and she meant that answer until Clark tossed the ball back at her and demanded they go again. Again! She barely lived through the first time around!
"No thanks, you're right. I suck." She tosses the football back at him.
"Well, practice makes perfect," he retorts immediately before chucking the football right back at her. She ducks away from it, not even attempting to catch it. "See? You need all the practice you can get."
Chloe scowls back at him. She doesn't need practice. It's not like she has any interest in playing professionally.
He bends down to pick the ball up and as he stands he says, "Remember, you have to run toward me. You have to try to get passed me. Okay?"
Chloe shakes her head. She already told him she doesn't want to play; but that doesn't stop her from reluctantly taking the football from him and getting down so he can yell "down, set, hut" or "hike" or whatever he's yelling.
She makes a run for it, not headed in the opposite direction the way she did last time. She just wants to get the inevitable over with. She knows she can never outrun him; and she knows he knows it too.
Still, she almost gets disappointed when he tackles her immediately. Knowing she's awful at this game you'd think he'd find it in his heart to let her gain a yard or something.
She's on her stomach, and he's stretched out over her back again; but, it's different this time. He jumps up off of her like she's burnt him.
Chloe rolls her eyes before getting up. She's not carrying some kind of highly contagious mutant disease.
"Had enough yet?" he says once she's facing him. She almost tells him she has, but the look on his face; he's blushing, and he keeps wiping his right hand against his pant leg. He's awfully nervous about something. And the thing Clark Kent is most nervous about happens to be girls; which is exactly what Chloe is.
She smiles and takes the football from him. "No, have you had enough yet?"
Clark blinks at her and shakes his head. No, he hasn't had enough yet.
She squats before him, waiting for him to do the same. He does so slowly, never taking his eyes off of hers. When he yells hike, Chloe runs toward him, then pivots just as he reaches out for her.
She's running backwards now, laughing at him because he missed. He grins and comes after her, and just as she turns so that she's facing forward again, she trips. She closes her eyes, knowing that however she's about to land; she's going to land hard.
But she doesn't. Clark's chosen that very second to tackle her; and like all the other tackles he doesn't just knock her to the ground. He more or less places her on the ground before lying on top of her. Only this time, she's landed on her back.
Once Chloe realizes that she's not hurt, she breathes a sigh of relief. Then her eyes open and she's staring into the eyes of not only her best friend, but the object of her affection. Awareness begins to run through her body as she takes in the compromising position she and Clark are in; especially when she notices a little tightness in his pants.
She expects him to hurry up and hop up off of her like he did the last time he tackled her; and she actually counts the seconds down in her head. Five…four…three…two…one…
Nothing. He doesn't move. Just keeps staring into her eyes. She stares back, more than aware that one of them has to say something soon; but she's afraid that if she speaks first he'll get up and shrug it off like it never happened; and she most definitely wants something to happen. She'll even take a small kiss on the cheek and an apology. Yeah, yeah, she's pathetic; she knows that already.
Finally, he moves, bracing his palms against the ground so he can get up. Chloe doesn't even hide the disappointment she's feeling.
"You're really dirty," he whispers hoarsely.
Her mouth falls open in shock. She can't believe he just said that; but before she can respond, if she was ever going to respond, he brushes an hand over her stomach. He's not feeling her up per se, there's dirt there and he's wiping it away; and she lets him. She wouldn't stop him if her life depended on it; especially when it becomes more than obvious that he is indeed feeling her up. There's no more dirt on her shirt; well, no more that he can get rid of by simply swapping at it with his hand, but he continues wipe at it. And not only that, but his hand has slowed down considerably. He's exploring.
She watches him the whole time, but he never once looks up at her. His gaze is fixed on his own hand.
Chloe gasps when his hand travels a little further up north. Any further, and he'll have a breast in his hand. He finally looks up at her and Chloe regrets making a sound. She's probably ruined the moment. He's gonna want to get up and finish the game or something, so she beats him to it.
"So, you ready? I was so close to scoring a homerun," she goads.
He grins back at her, but he doesn't make a move to get up. "It's called a touchdown, Chloe. Homeruns are a part of baseball."
Chloe smiles back at him. Whatever. She was close to the goal.
"Maybe we should switch to playing baseball," she suggests.
He gets up and offers a hand to her. She accepts immediately, and when she's on her feet she tries to tug her hand free. Of course, she loves holding hands with Clark, but if one of them are gonna let go, she'd rather be the first to do so. That's just how she is.
However, Clark's grip tightens, refusing to let her go as he begins to lead her back toward the school.
"What about the football?" Chloe questions, using her free hand to point behind herself where the football lays abandoned in the grass.
"Don't need a football to play baseball," Clark grunts refusing to look behind and acknowledge Chloe, or the football.
Suddenly, Chloe doesn't want to play baseball. There's pitching and batting; no tackling in baseball. She really wants to get tackled again. Maybe even tackle Clark this time around.
"But Clark, what about my touchdown?" she asks, subtly hinting that she wants to continue with their football game.
"Second base," he mutters as he pulls her a little faster.
What the hell is that supposed to mean? She thinks to herself but she doesn't get a chance to ask him because she's just noticed something. They're heading in the opposite direction of the baseball field.
"Uh, Clark; where are going? The baseball field is"-
"Basketball court," he interrupts in a clipped tone.
"To play baseball?" Chloe frowns.
"Yes." That's it. That's all he says. He doesn't elaborate at all.
"I had no idea baseball was an indoor sport." She tries to get some kind of an explanation out of him.
"Sometimes it is. Sometimes it's not," he hisses in between clenched teeth.
Chloe gives up and lets him pull her to their destination. He doesn't stop until they're standing under the bleachers.
What the hell?
Abruptly, Clark yanks Chloe around to face him. Her mouth opens in surprised, and she's milliseconds away from verbally scarring him for life when he presses his lips to hers, his tongue immediately seeking hers. She freezes and he frees his lips from her. "First base," he whispers before lowering his face to kiss her again.
Oh. Chloe gets it now. She's been wanting to play this version of baseball with Clark for a while now.
~~{End}~~