Red lace. Under those funky, just-one-step-beyond-normal-for-Smallville clothes, she wore red lace. Cherry colored lace, he thought. Sweet cherry. Covering what probably tasted a helluva lot better than cherries. But just as sweet.
Clark adjusted his seat and slid another covert glance across the room at Chloe, the way he'd been doing all afternoon. She was oblivious to his attention, lost in her own world as she pounded out an editorial protesting the mystery meat lunch on Wednesdays or the gym uniform or something.
He wondered what color she was wearing this time. More red lace? Would black be too boring for her? Maybe it was some soft mint green color like the one he accidentally came across while doing the laundry one Mother's Day as a gift for his Mom. That was the last time he volunteered for that particular chore. It also seemed just thinking about it proved to be as effective as a cold shower, Clark mused.
Never mind. Chloe just stretched her arms high above her head, yawning widely. His gaze went right back to where it shouldn't have gone. How did he get so obsessed with what was beneath her shirt?
Oh yeah, he was innocently trying to save her life and bam! Red lace appeared and sparked something inside of him. Cherry red lace.
He must have made some kind of noise, because Chloe finally dragged her eyes away from her computer and shot him a curious look. "What?"
Clark managed to give her a blank, surprised look, glad she couldn't read his mind, and oh god what a horrible time it would be for her to accidentally get that power.
"Hmm? Nothing. Just finishing up my article," he murmured, hoping to sound nonchalant. He turned his attention to his own computer screen. So far he'd only typed the word "the" before he'd gotten side tracked by Chloe's underwear.
Cherry red lace. The visual hit him again. Red lace and creamy skin.
He took a breath and tried to remember what his article was about. Nothing came to mind and he hoped Chloe wouldn't ask for details.
"How's it going?" Chloe asked casually, pushing back from her desk.
"Uh…pretty good." He quickly tapped a few random keys, hoping to look busy.
"Mmm-hmm." Chloe pushed back from her desk and rose smoothly. The shirt she wore today was candy-apple red and exposed a few inches of her stomach.
Clark forced himself not to look. He continued to type gibberish, making a note to ask Pete what his article was supposed to be about.
Suddenly Chloe crossed the office, coming towards him. He stiffened and looked at his screen. Nonsense. He'd written nonsense and she was about to check on his article and then she would find out-
Nope, turned out she was going to the printer behind him. He let out a quick breath of relief and minimized his word document. She leaned over the printer, scanning the editorial she'd just printed for any mistakes.
Her back safely to him, he took the opportunity to look her over again. Part of him was screaming at him to stop. You can't ogle Chloe. For god sake's this was Chloe! You two weren't going down that road again, remember?
But another part was whispering…cherry red lace. And the whispers won out.
He could cheat of course. Take a sneak peek and end his wondering. He did it before. His gaze shifted lower and a sly smile grew as he remembered the birthmark there. Would her panties be as nice as the bra? Did she buy them in a matching set?
Did she wear thongs?
"Ahem."
Clark didn't know how long he'd been daydreaming about Chloe in red thongs but some time during Chloe had turned around and was now staring down at him, smirking. Busted.
She cocked an eyebrow and folded her arms in front of her. Clark sat back and tried not to look guilty. It worked for a moment before he squirmed in his seat.
"W-want me to…ah, proof read your editorial?" he stammered and shifted again. Be cool, Kent!
"If you really want to know…just ask."
He frowned, confused. "Ask about what? The editorial? I already did."
"For god's sake!" Chloe laughed. "You really know how to drag things out."
She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and jerked it up, revealing today's lacy confection. Purple. Deep purple. Like a blackberry.
Clark gaped at her, shocked by her boldness. But thankful too.
He wondered how long he sat there, mouth hanging open, staring at her in wonder before she finally dropped her shirt.
"Clark?"
He looked up. She was fighting a grin, trying to look too stern.
"I hope you enjoyed that."
"Oh yeah." He breathed. Oh yeah.
Chloe turned her face, trying to hide her blush. "Remember it."
"Oh I will," he said sincerely.
"Good, 'cause that's the last time you're going to see my lingerie." Chloe patted him on the cheek, swept past him and practically ran out of the Torch.
Clark slumped in his chair, torn between running after her and replaying in his mind what he just saw.
Cherries and blackberries.
He'll never look at pies the same way again.