Disclaimer- The usual. As much as I wish I owned these characters, I do not. I am just playing in their world. Please don't sue me--you will be very disappointed at how little I'm really worth.
Author: Jennifer Rouch (Ferd/Ferdykins)
Genre- Comedy/Humor
Pairing- Clark/Lois and a little Chloe
Rating- PG-13
The morning sun is already making the day a blistering one. Tiny beads of sweat trickle down Lois' neck, finding their way between her breasts which are pushing the strength of the lycra in her tank top beyond capacity.
"What, no one's heard of actual material out here in the sticks?" Lois says, lifting her bare thighs off of the vinyl truck seat, her skin sticking to it from the heat in the cab. "I mean I'm all for easy clean up, but what kind of moron covers a seat in plastic and expects it to be comfortable?" she says, repositioning herself in the seat, the suction of her skin peeling away from the moist vinyl creating a noise that Clark can't help but laugh at.
She shoots him a pair of flaming green eyes, holding herself off of the seat, trying hard to stay out of the puddles her own perspiration have made on the truck seat.
"Don't start with me Smallville," she snarls, pinching the front of her top with her fingers, fanning herself with the the fabric in a brisk motion.
Clark returns his eyes to the road, not doing a good job at holding back a smile. He can't help but take pleasure in her predicament. Lois always seems to relish making light of his discomfort, and for once it was nice to have the upper hand over her.
As the truck bumps along the dirt road, the rough terrain sends Lois back down into the damp spot she was balancing on one hand to avoid. The fall twisting her wrist, now adding pain to her reasons to spew venom.
"Are paved roads just too advanced a concept for you bumpkins to grasp?" Lois asks, as usual not giving Clark a moment to respond. "I guess you're all still adjusting from the move up from horse and buggy," she adds, determined to make the short ride as uncomfortable for Clark as it is for her.
Annoyed at how Lois seems to never tire of attacking all the simplicities in life he and his family enjoy, Clark purposely steers the truck over a wash out in the road, the jarring drop-off sending her small frame flying up in the cab, bumping her head against the roof.
"Oww!" she cries out, rubbing her head, continually checking her hand for blood.
Seeing how hard she hit instantly makes him regret his action. "I'm sorry Lois," he offers, genuinely feeling bad for hurting her. "Are you okay?"
"If the whole steering of the big wheel is too much for you to master, maybe you should slide over and let me handle it," she snaps, reaching for her purse, to dig out some aspirin. "I'm sure even with my concussion I can drive better than you."
If only he could take back his apology. She seemed to only gain strength from it. He was slowly beginning to realize that the only way to live with Lois Lane was to battle her with words. To give her a taste of her own medicine.
"You know Lois, if you were wearing your seat belt you probably wouldn't have hit your head," he says, watching for a reaction out of the corner of his eye.
"I've ridden in tanks, in humvees, in helicopters without a need for a safety restraint, I figured I was safe to go a mile up the road in this thing without having my head cracked open."
"You know you didn't have to come," Clark quips back, thinking to himself how pleasant this ride would've been to take alone.
"What, and miss out on all this fun?" she says sarcastically. "Don't worry Clark, I'll find another way to home," she adds popping two aspirin into her mouth, making them disappear in a single swallow.
Her talent to swallow pills without water causes Clark's eyes to widen in amazement. Although she appeared as delicate as a flower, he knew she was indeed was made of something stronger than steel.
"Ugh," she sighs, fanning herself with her hand. "My God, is like a thousand degrees in here? I thought you said it was just up the road," she says, now leaning on her side, still trying to keep her bare thighs from clinging to the truck bench seat.
He simply passes her a side glance, not sure he knows what to say, but having a feeling she still can find a way to rebut.
His silence annoying her, she leans over punching him in the arm with her good hand. "Hey! Farm boy, Don't you think when the mercury hits 300 it's time to shed the layers? Hand over the flannel," she says, tugging on his rolled up sleeve.
"What?" Clark asks, embarrassed by her request.
"Oh, relax. I've seen what you've got to offer, I just want the shirt, not the goods underneath it," she says, sliding closer towards him. "Come on Clark, hand it over," she insists, motioning with her hand.
"Why do you want my shirt? I thought you were hot."
"I don't want to wear it, I want to sit on it. Anything's better than sitting on this cheap excuse for a car seat," she says . "Now hand it over."
Leaning over towards him she starts unbuttoning his flannel over shirt, tackling his chest with a flurry of hands. Before he can take his hands off the steering wheel to fight her, she already has the shirt sliding off his shoulders.
Powerless around her, Clark gives in to her request. He takes of his flannel shirt the rest of the way, revealing only a thin blue T-shirt stretched over his muscular chest.
Lois snatches the shirt from him, balling it up into a makeshift chair cover, placing it under her legs.
"Ah, that's better," she breathes, adjusting into the soft cloth. "I guess flannel really is good for something."
She cranks up the air conditioner, turning all the vents to blow the cool air just on her. Finally it appears she is at a comfortable temperature, and the proof can't help but make Clark shift uneasily behind the wheel.
Clark and Lois hop out of the truck not a second too soon, setting their feet down into the dirt lot in the back of the Smallville Farmer's market.
"You can go ahead and head to the booth, I can handle this" Clark says, longing for a moment of peace and quiet, knowing he could unload the bed of the truck a lot faster without Lois's watchful eyes over his shoulder.
"I think I can handle carrying some fruit a few yards" Lois says, pushing him to the side with her hand on his chest. "Besides, I told your parents I would help you out," she says, grabbing up two bushel baskets of peaches into each arm, starting off into the market.
Clark follows her lead, carrying double her load, but still only a sliver of what he's really capable of.
Heading through the crowded market, Lois struggles to appear comfortable carrying the heavy load, despite how it's breaking her back. She looks over to Clark, annoyed that he has yet to even break a sweat.
"Nice peaches," a voice calls out, sending Lois to spin around to find the source.
A guys selling odds and ends at a booth is leaned far over the table, not exactly admiring the fruit in the baskets.
"Hey how about a bite there, Peaches?" the guy asks, continuing with his cat calls.
"How about you bite yourself?" Lois yells back, not stopping to wait for his response.
Clark watches in awe, surprised how it seems she fails to be phased by anyone or anything. As he passes by the booth he glances over the guy, not able to understand how anyone could be so disrespectful to a woman, well, to Lois.
Clark Kent peddling peaches couldn't help but amuse Lois. The pride he takes in the little pine booth can't help but make her laugh, despite the fact that she was bored to tears.
"How long do we have to stay here?" she asks, fixing her hair up in an elastic band, not paying any attention to the would be customers mulling around the table.
"You can go look around if you want," Clark says. "My parents should be along before too long. I can handle it until then."
In a single quick gesture, she hops off the table, grabbing up a peach in her hand, taking a big bite.
"See ya later, Smallville," she says, with her mouth full, throwing her hand up in a wave, her ponytail bouncing on air as she fades out of view.
Lois comes back to the booth gleaming with a new found joy that can't help but worry Clark.
"What's up Lois, did you get to kick a puppy on your way back here?" Clark asks, flashing his bright white smile, his eyes sparkling.
In a gesture becoming reflex, Lois slugs Clark in the forearm. "No, I found Chloe the perfect gift," she says, holding out a small white box in front of his face.
"For Chloe?" Clark asks, racking his mind for what event he forgot to buy a gift for.
"It's a graduation gift, Clark. Don't worry, you didn't forget her birthday," Lois quips, sarcastically tapping him on the shoulder in a seemingly sympathetic gesture.
Clark can't help but be frustrated at how it seems Lois is always able to read his mind. He just couldn't understand why it wasn't Lana that possessed that talent. Why of all the women in the world, it only seemed that Lois knew how he felt down deep most of the time?
"Do you buy gifts for graduation?" Clark asks, wondering to himself what he could do for Lana and Chloe.
"Uh, yeah," she says, rolling her eyes at him.
"What do you get someone for Graduation?" Clark asks, having been raised a boy he's severely gift giving deficient.
"Well, I purchased a lovely piece of jewelry at a deep discount," Lois practically beams.
"You bought jewelry? Here?" Clark asks, cocking an inquisitive brow.
"Chloe prefers vintage," Lois responds,"and I purchased a lovely little red ruby charm bracelet."
"Vintage at a deep discount? I think you got ripped off," Clark beams a smile, finally finding an instance when his small town wits bested her brassy, big city brains.
"I think she'll love it. After all, it's the thought that counts and my thought is twice as valuable as yours."
"Perhaps you could ask her yourself," Clark spins Lois around to see Chloe bounding up towards them.
"Oh, crap!" Lois hunts frantically for a place to hide her present. "Here," she stuffs the box in Clark's pocket, "hold this for me."
Clark loses his balance for a second, stepping back weakly.
"What's with you?" Lois wrinkles her nose indignantly.
Clark beams red soaked eyes back at Lois. "Nothing. I'm fine, Peaches."