Chapter 4.

Clark had a hell of a time reaching the boys locker room, without getting spotted by the multitude of giggling girls suddenly roaming the halls of Smallville High. When did they suddenly become so many? Clark wondered, having had to lurk in the shadows of a custodial closet more than once, while seemingly every girl in Smallville wandered by. I swear, if Pete or Whitney told anyone… He trailed off; he wasn't really in a position to extract any revenge. Not standing naked in a hallway anyway.

Finally slipping trough the door to the locker room, he breathed out a small sigh of relief. Both Pete and Whitney sat leaning against shower room wall. Quickly rising to embrace him Pete said; "Hey man, nice markings! How did you get Chloe to do that?" Clark froze. He'd totally forgot the markings. No please God, don't make me go back there! He didn't think he could meet Chloe face-to-face after the stunt he'd pulled before leaving. Wait! What had Pete said? What markings? Chloe hadn't given him any.

Walking over to a mirror, he clearly saw what Pete had spoken about. Great, not only was I walking naked trough school, I did it with this all over my face. Clark suddenly found himself extremely happy he hadn't let anyone see him. On both his cheeks he had dark red lipstick smears in the shape of Chloe's lips. Reaching up, gently touching his right cheek, he could still feel the lingering touch of her lips. Remembering vividly those luscious lips closing in on his own, he felt the burning sensation returning to his eyes. That scared him back to reality.

"Yeah, nice ones." Whitney agreed. "But how do we know it was Chloe who gave them to him?" He shrugged. "For all we know he waited outside for the first girl to pass and begged her to do it." He smiled.

Clark just stood there unbelieving, how could he prove it was her? Luckily Pete came to his rescue.

"No chance Whitney. First off, Clark's really lucky Chloe feels enough pity for him to actually date him." Clark opened his mouth to protest, explain, or at least defend himself. Pete smacked him on the arm and continued. "Finding anyone blind or stupid enough to actually kiss him in the hallway would be a first-class miracle." Clark actually got insulted by that. Trying to cut in he earned another shoulder punch from Pete. "Secondly, look at this if you please." Gesturing to what Clark was covering himself with.

In his haste getting out the window he hadn't really looked at what he had grabbed. Looking down now he couldn't fathom he had gotten this far wearing, well…this. Covering his hips was Chloe's favorite red jacket. She's going to kill me. I'm so dead… It won't even matter she can't even hurt me… she'll find a way. Of that he had no doubt. Remembering to breath, he realized few things scared him as much as the prospect of meeting Chloe right now.

"In case you don't recognize Chloe's favorite jacket, I'll read the label." Clearing his throat, Pete raised his voice. "Property of Chloe Sullivan, which incidentally Clark here should get tattooed on his back…"

Whitney chuckled, smiling he said; "There's always next time." Both Pete and he laughed at that.

Putting his arm around Clark's shoulders he led him to the door. "Let's get you your clothes back and head to class. I wouldn't want you to be late now, would I?"

"You mean my clothes aren't here?" Clark whispered. It isn't over…

"No, we really thought they'd be safer in your locker. Especially if you tried to chicken out on us." Pete said opening the door. "Don't worry, man. I have the copy of your keys your mom gave me. You know, after you locked yourself out for the seventh time or something."

But Clark barely registered the conversation. In a few minutes class would start, and not wanting to be late Chloe would right now be running to her locker. Right next to mine...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chloe and Lana were in fact walking up to her locker, heads close together, whispering to each other. Lana asking about Clark, and Chloe avoiding the subject, while staring into thin air, a vacant look on her face.

Chloe's mind was firmly on Clark, barely responding to Lana's questions. Wondering what to make of him. One second staring at her like she was Lana, the next pushing her away. The kiss…

If there were anything she couldn't forgive him for, it was that moment of rejection. She had put so much of herself into that kiss, which even now, ten minutes later made her heart pound like crazy, only to have him turn away.

Her heart had sunk to new depths, and she was sure he would never love her. Believing him too much in love with Lana to ever even notice her.

Then having him flashing her with the full Kent charm and offering to strip in front of her. She had spun around, too shocked and embarrassed to look him in the eyes. It's a dream. As soon as you turn around he'll be gone. And you'll wake up drooling on your desk. Again. The fear had chilled her blood. None of this is real. The situation felt so unreal, so much like a wish come true, that she felt in her heart it had to be a dream.

Inside her the need to turn around clashed with the fear of waking up to find out that this day had never happened, that he had to work out on the farm and couldn't make it to the concert, that she hadn't just placed her lips on his face.

Frustrated, she had just stood there, knowing that whatever she chose to do she'd risk every thing.

Seeing Clark naked… Going out on a date with Clark? Before, even that very morning, she'd choose the date, every time. But pressing herself against his naked chest, running her fingers down his back… It had given her an almost physical need to see the rest of him.

The conflict between the need to see him and the fear of never having had him here with her, escalated until she had felt close to tears in frustration. Suddenly, she had found a solution. Only inches from her hand a camera lay. The only new piece of equipment the Torch boasted. A digital camera. Hardly daring to breath, she clutched it to her chest. The question is… Does this count as peeking? Thumbing the flash of, as she really didn't want him to notice the camera, she pointed it in the general direction of Clark and went to work with her back still turned, snapping of shots as fast as she could.

Suddenly he chuckled. Not really prepared for any sound from his part, not realizing the non-threatening nature of the sound, she nearly dropped the camera. He saw me…oh God he knows what I'm doing. Since turning away from him the seconds had seemed to stretch for ages, but nothing compared to the seconds she spent waiting for his footsteps behind her and the angry words that were set to follow. Only they didn't arrive. Except for her own rather ragged breathing and pounding heart, the room was ominously quiet. She quickly decided that whatever he was doing he wasn't going for her. What a shame… if he did you'd have a perfect reason to turn around. The thought sounded so naughty, echoing in her mind, she shuddered. Naked, angry Clark… She could feel herself blushing. And still… her whole being tingled when she remembered pressing against him. You should have reached down… nearly choking, she realized what she had been thinking. Well, at least he would have remembered you… Desperately trying to shut down the obviously, hormonal, Not horny, never horny, parts of her mind, she saw that her finger had kept pressing the camera trigger reflexively.

Afterwards, walking the hallway with Lana she tried to explain her own behavior, rationalize her decisions to herself. The thing about keeping the towel, especially. She obviously hadn't really meant it; she couldn't even believe how she'd ever gotten the courage to ask him for it in the first place. It just kind of slipped out while leaning in to kiss him. It had been on her mind, surely. But even then she'd been shocked by how forward she had been. Before asking him out she had promised herself to go slow, as not to scare him away. She had started to pull back, realizing she had gone too far. And then he had answered, and all her doubts had been gone, as if swept away.

At that moment she believed what Lana said. She believed men looked at her. That Clark looked at her. That she was beautiful. He was willing to walk naked trough school, just for a kiss from her. She had felt like a Goddess. This had made her so much more vulnerable when he rejected her.

All her insecurities had returned with a vengeance. He had made her go from Goddess to beggar. No, even lower. After the confusion cleared she'd felt like crying. Not willing to let him see her tears she had been relieved when she heard Mrs. Chandler on the door.

Rallying herself, she had put up her best effort into once again be the Snarky-best-friend-reporter he was used to. What she had said then was strikingly close to what she had been thinking, but she forced it to sound like a joke. Perhaps a little more daring than she used to be, but close enough to her old self to allow her to start building a new emotional wall around herself. Only to have it crashing down on her ears when he didn't act as she thought he would.

Finally reaching the hallway her locker was located, she felt strange. Like her heart, and emotions with it, had been stretched, ripped and sewn together. Every time she spent time with Clark it felt like a roller coaster ride. Being happier than ever before just to be pushed down further than she thought she could. The end result was that she now was more confused than ever before in her life. Pushing trough a throng of people she finally reached her locker. Deep in thought she leaned her head against the locker, closed her eyes and tried to banish her problems long enough for to calm down and get a grip on herself.

It was awfully quiet. Even Lana had stopped talking. The only thing she could hear was someone rummaging around in a locker somewhere. That was decidedly odd. Even on a good day it was usually hard to hear yourself think. Turning to Lana she opened her eyes and started saying something snarky, just to make herself feel better. She stopped when she saw the look on her face. Lana was staring at something over Chloe's shoulder, and with a start she realized that so did everyone else. Dozens of shocked faces, all staring at something behind her. Spinning around she realized what had caught their interest.

Ohhh….

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clark felt his face blush. He was painfully aware that he was standing nearly naked in a crowded hallway. He blushed even harder. He also realized that no matter how much he wanted them to no one would ever forget this. He tried to make himself as small and non visible as possible. Really very easy, since your half naked and six feet tall.

Finally finding and grabbing his backpack and gym bag, he let out a sigh of relief. And tried to pretend he didn't feel the staring eyes of every person in Smallville high boring into him.

Closing the locker with one hand he turned around. And nearly dropped everything.

Chloe.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chloe's mind spun. Two feet away stood the love of her life. Dressed in practically nothing at all.

Seeing him turn around, red-faced and panic struck, she had to suppress a very un-Chloe like giggle. She became mesmerized looking at the feelings written on his face. Shame. Panic. Fear. Surprise. And… What?

As his eyes met hers, a flicker of recognition, and a glint of something more. She saw his eyes turn to the other faces in the room. He looks like a cornered animal. Ready to flee as soon as an opening presented itself.

She smiled. Before today she had never seen Clark Kent vulnerable or scared. It felt comforting to see his softer side for once. To see beyond the walls he had erected around himself.

Suddenly his eyes met hers again. A change came over him as he saw her smile. A lot of the tension and fear left his face. And in his eyes the flicker, the glint once again. This time she had been ready for it. Her mouth fell open as she recognized it. She had seen it a thousand times before, when he had been looking at Lana. Affection… and Lust.

In an instant she was again feeling like a Goddess. Her mouth curved into a smile. He had feelings for her. Perhaps not as strong as with Lana, but she nonetheless felt drunk with the knowledge that they were there. She felt in control. And practically giddy with delight, she was forced to add

It had been a roller coaster ride. But now she was steering.

Smile turning into a grin, she studied him pointedly from top to bottom. And a fine bottom it is… Every semblance of the notion that they were just friends was unceremoniously thrown out a mental window. He's mine, whether he knows it or not.

She saw him flinch when her gaze passed over her jacket. Which by the way doesn't do a very good job covering him. She definitely wasn't mad at him for taking it; the thought couldn't make itself heard over the much louder thoughts screaming that Clark was standing practically naked in front of her, and she was in control. No not mad at all… but he didn't need to know that now, did he?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clark nearly panicked. As if the room full of people weren't enough.

At first he actually had panicked, desperately seeking a way out of the mess he had gotten stuck in. And then he had looked Chloe in the eyes, the panic disappearing.

He had feared her stare more than all the others stares combined. Scared to see a something in her eyes. Something that would say "We're not friends anymore." Because, even though he stood in the center of attention, half naked, he had feared he had crossed a line with her. He had realized it when he saw her again after pulling the towel stunt. They had teased each other before, or she had teased him at least. But never like that. And the whole date thing? What if…

He left the question unfinished. So many things could go wrong.

He felt miserable. He had never been good at reading signs in other people. It had always been Pete that translated the looks he got from girls. What if he read too much into this? What if she didn't like him that way? But she kissed you, a part of him whispered. He wished he could just have some time to think. He had been shoved from disaster to disaster the whole day, and feared he had missed some vital sign in the jumble which had been his day. Above all he feared losing Chloe. If he read the signs wrong, if he put a foot wrong he might lose her forever.

All of this flew trough his mind before meeting her gaze.

Looking into Chloe's eyes his mind went blank. She has beautiful eyes… and it was true Chloe's eyes had always had an almost hypnotic effect on him. When they first met he had felt his knees go weak staring into those eyes. Since then, every time he looked into them he forgot who he was. He had spent a lot of time trying to find out what color they really were, but it eluded him. They seemed to be shifting between green and a clear blue-gray.

For a moment he stood frozen staring at her. She was smiling, and in his shell shocked state, for that was how he was feeling, he smiled as well. Chloe was happy, so naturally he was too. Then reality decided to drop down on him like a ton of bricks. Panic returned. He felt ashamed of his nakedness. Afraid that he had to face the entire school wearing only a improvised loincloth.

But the edge had been blunted. Chloe was smiling at him. And standing reeaallly close.

Suddenly it wasn't her eyes that filled his mind but rather the more feminine parts of her anatomy.

His eyes started feeling hot, but went unnoticed. He tried focusing his mind on something else. Lana. Football. Chores. Pancakes. History. Not anything involving Best friends covered in nothing but whipped cream.

It seemed to be working. Until he saw the predatory glint in her eyes.

Oohh shit…

R&R! I really need the motivation!

//TheUnwelcomeVisitor