Written originally for the 2012 Secret Chlark Gift exchange on LJ for Apeygirl

Request: Humor, Jealous Clark, Season 4

Title: And The Rest Will Be Rewritten.

Pairing: Chlark!

Rating: PG, PG-13 if you squint

Spoilers: Season 4. Dialogue from several episodes through Unsafe and a touch of Arrival. No, I don't own any of these characters, though I know I treat them better.

Warnings: None…ok, a touch of happy ending-itus

Summary: This story is broken into two main sections. Section 1 is made up of a series of vignettes. Three times when Clark does think about Chloe that way, though he would deny it, and one time when a small change changes everything. Section 2 takes some of the events in Unsafe and rewrites the episode as a Chlarky replacement. (Sorry, no RedK sexy time, but on the upside, no time wasted on Lana deciding if she should give Jason her flower.) Clark and Chloe's evening is interrupted by a plea for help from Alicia Baker that ultimately brings them closer together…cause that is how I roll!

Section 1

~Run~

Lex pontificated on the history of his newly acquired 14-century manuscript page while Clark translated the Kryptonian symbols repeated on the edges over and over. - Look deeper- So Clark did and using his x-ray vision, saw a map hidden beneath the colorful medieval script. Lex was saying something about not having the time to study it now, but it occurred to Clark if he could just switch into superfast mode, he would have plenty of time to memorize the map before Lex ushered him out of his study. Only, the moment Clark thought super speed, he thought Bart Allen or more specifically he started worrying about how much trouble Bart might have gotten into since he left him back at the Talon, alone.

Ok, maybe not so much alone, but that was part of the problem.

Bart started throwing cheesy pickup lines right and left the instant he spotted Chloe. That stunt with the tulip had been sickening. Clark told the speedy trickster to knock it off, but then his mom distracted him and the next thing Clark knew, Bart was ensconced with Chloe at a private table, leaning across and trying to ply her with more of his "magic." Maybe he should have just told Chloe outright that Bart was the same kid who pickpocketed his dad, but explaining why they were suddenly hanging out would have gotten complicated.

His mom told him Lex wanted him to stop by, and since watching Bart attempt to worm his way into Chloe's affections gave Clark the pressing urge for fresh air, he ran to the Manor like his mom suggested.

Not that he cared if Bart wanted to ask Chloe out. He could try, but just last week Chloe stood on the football field and confessed she still had feelings for him. They were unlikely to change so quickly. Not that he cared it they did, because like he told her, he didn't feel that way about her. At least, not right now.

He still wasn't sure why those last few words popped out of his mouth. Sure, when Chloe had climbed on his lap wearing only his football jersey he'd been interested, but he was still hung up on Lana even if he wasn't sure his feelings were anything more than habit. Even so, he'd been honest with Chloe about not being ready to move on… yet.

He was doing it again.

Why did he keep putting a qualifier on his feelings for Chloe? Err, on the feelings he didn't have for Chloe. On Monday he checked out a book from the library on the psychology of the subconscious mind, but it only went on and on about hidden perceptions and secret longings so that was completely unhelpful.

Clark blinked a few times and refocused on the present. Lex was looking at him expectantly. What did he just say? Oh right, to drop by tomorrow and they could study the manuscript page together. Since he just squandered his opportunity to memorize the hidden map now, tomorrow might be his only option. He agreed to come back later and showed himself out of Lex's study. A gust of wind blew his hair back before he was more than a few feet down the hallway.

"Dude, you know Lex Luthor?"

Bart. He should have known. "What are you doing here?" He didn't know whether to be relieved or horrified.

"Well, Chloe shot me down."

Of course she did, Clark thought smugly. He should have never been worried about Bart in the first place. Not that he had been worried.

Bart shrugged. "But, you know, her loss. Man, this place is awesome! I mean, have you seen all the cool stuff?"

Clark's complacency vanished. "You were just in there?" He pointed back at Lex's study.

"Yeah, I just took a quick spin."

Bart had been in there, with Lex and all his security. Another reason he should never have left Bart alone. His anxiety must have shown because Bart tried to reassure him.

"Don't worry, man, he won't have a clue."

He didn't feel reassured. "You gotta get out of here." Bart vanished a fraction of a second before Lex came out into the hallway.

"Clark." Frowning and looking around, Lex asked, "Who are you talking to?"

How much could Lex have heard? Probably nothing more than voices. Clark glanced about to stall for time, but couldn't come up with an explanation. In the end, he shrugged in confusion. He left the Luthor Manor wondering if he would have been better off had Bart gotten somewhere in his attempt to woo Chloe. He arrived home with one clear thought about the matter.

Nope.

~Jinx~

An inexplicable rage washed through Clark as he stood in the hallway outside the Torch and watched Chloe kissing some guy.

She hadn't spoken to him since Lionel took his body for a spin. He didn't know what that twisted monster said to her, but whatever it was, it had shaken her badly. He should have just flat out told her what happened; after all, Lex knew the truth, but the habit of keeping secrets was so ingrained that he hesitated until it was too late. He'd come by the Torch hoping to finally smooth things over between them and he thought maybe she would know if the school was using a new kryptonite laced fertilizer to make the grass greener or iridescent spray paint to mark the end zone or anything else that might explain what had happened to make him trip during last Saturday's game.

When he saw Chloe wasn't alone, he hesitated outside the Torch's half-opened door wondering if he should come back later, but the request the guy whispered to Chloe froze him in place.

"Kiss me."

And then she kissed him!

The rage, colored with a tinge of hurt, confused him at first, but he decided he just hadn't been prepared to find his estranged best friend getting cozy with another guy. No, not another guy. Well yes, another guy, but not another guy, because that implied that he was Chloe's … He dropped that train of thought and concentrated on figuring out who was kissing Chloe.

He couldn't tell.

Probably because the shaggy haired idiot had his back to the door and was plastered to Chloe's lips. Whoever was in there had his hand in her hair and she was touching his chest. Clark felt ill when he heard Chloe softly groan. He shouldn't be hearing this. A muscle flexed in Clark's jaw when the yahoo started dropping kisses along Chloe's jaw. He couldn't believe she would just stand there and let some jerk kiss her in the middle of the Torch right where he…right where anyone could see her. When the dirt bag started whispering in Chloe's ear, Clark angrily turned away.

What did he care if Chloe wanted to make a fool of herself? He didn't, he firmly told himself as he stalked down the hall and headed for the front exit. He just didn't want her jumping into something when he wasn't around to check out the guy. He wasn't jealous; he wasn't even being overprotective. This was Smallville and her track- record sucked.

There was the guy who had wanted to use her for body heat, the artist friend who killed Principal Kwan, and how about the guy who hadn't just two-timed her with Lana, but also tried to kill her by tossing her off a bridge. Plus, she'd had a real tough year: nearly blown up at the safe house, faking her death for months and then almost really dying when someone sicced on her the knock off of Terminator II's metal morphing foe. He was only trying to look out for her.

He let that thought settle for a moment while he blurred home, but as he headed up to the loft, he finally had to admit, it just didn't fit. He'd been mad. Furious. Hurt.

Maybe because she still wasn't talking to him? Yeah. Because otherwise, he'd already know about this guy. Right. And because he needed her help and she was too busy using the Torch as her personal kissing booth to have time for him. That's all the burning sensation in his gut meant. Yeah. Simple really. He should go right back to the Torch, the heck with who was kissing who; what he needed was important.

He sighed. What he needed to figure out really was important, too important to keep pretending he honestly thought kryptonite was the source of his problems. His symptoms didn't fit: no pain, no weakness, no nausea. Just running one moment and down the next. An idea came to him. Maybe kryptonite hadn't made him trip, but maybe he could use a small amount to weaken himself so he wouldn't be a danger to anyone around him.

His mom found him shortly into his experiment. She furiously nixed the idea and strongly suggested he refocus on why he tripped when he never tripped. He grabbed a plaid button down shirt to cover up the sweat stains he earned while playing with kryptonite and zipped back to school.

Coach told him the sports editor had the tape of the game, so he headed back to the Torch. Hopefully Chloe and her tonsil hockey buddy were done with the excessive personal displays. Not that he was ever going to have that conversation. He'd just pretend it never happened. Yeah. It never happened.

Armed with a speech to get Chloe to help him while magnanimously ignoring what he'd witnessed earlier, he walked into the Torch only to find it empty. He clenched his fists. She was probably out somewhere with him.

He took a deep breath and forced a lid on his simmering emotions. So what if Chloe wasn't here. He still had to decipher why he tripped if he wanted to play in next week's championship game. He put the tape in the player, took the remote control in his hand, and got down to studying the final play of the game.

He was rewinding it for the twentieth time when Chloe breezed back into the office. He jumped up.

"It's all right, Clark. You can stay."

It irked him that he needed to be granted the privilege of staying when she was letting some random guy not even connected to the Torch make himself right at home. He couldn't quite keep the peevish note out of his voice when he spoke. "I thought you had some self-imposed restraining order against me. Does this mean you're talking to me again?"

"No, this just means that I'm willing to take a chance on getting your Dr. Jekyll side today."

She probably was in a tolerant mood from all the serotonin flooding her brain.

Chloe glanced at the paused video. "What's up with the self-flogging?"

His mood was only getting worse. Of course, it didn't take Chloe more than a second to recognize the scene of his huge blunder. "I'm watching the sports editor's tape of the game, trying to figure out what happened, but…" He got to his feet and started pacing. He wished he could explain. "It's like I had no control, like my mind was sending one message, but…" He broke off his sentence. He sounded crazy.

"But your body was getting another."

He jerked back around to look at Chloe. "Yeah." Why was it that Chloe always seemed to get what he was trying to say?

"It's Mikhail," she said softly.

Clark frowned. "The foreign exchange kid? Mix- uh…"

"Mxyzptlk." She scoffed. "Say that three times fast. He's our new resident puppet master." Chloe shifted uncomfortably and dropped her gaze to the floor. "This is kind of embarrassing, but he - made me – kiss him."

Was that the guy he'd seen kissing Chloe? Could she not have been into what she was doing? But she hadn't been doing any complaining. "Made you," he repeated, not sure if he dared believe it.

"Yeah. It was just like how you explained your trip. It was like someone else was controlling me."

He wanted to believe her. It would solve both of his dilemmas. "Ok, but why would he want me to throw the game?"

"Clark," she said incredulously, "he is the biggest bookie in the school."

"The power to control the odds." And Chloe. She really hadn't been out kissing someone behind his back. No. Not behind his back, because that would imply she was cheating on him. Of course she hadn't been…they weren't even together. He just was glad she wasn't seeing someone else. Err, that wasn't what he meant. That she hadn't moved on from him. No that didn't sound right either. He really should be paying attention to what Chloe was finding out on her computer search. He pointed at a computer prompt that suggested they look up Kltpzyxm.

"What's that?"

Chloe frowned and tilted her head. "It's Mikhail's name backwards." She clicked on it and a page featuring a medieval village, black cats and bad luck popped up.

The rest of their research didn't pull up anything solid on how to stop Chloe's kissing bandit unless they could order a plague of locusts to show up Saturday. Clark left Chloe to do more research and decided to try another approach. A Luthor Corp scholarship brought Mikhail here. Maybe he could get Lex to send him back.

One way or another, Mxyzptlk had to go. Clark was never going to let him get his lips on Chloe ever again.