Chapter Twelve

Martha jumped up from her seat and rushed over as Chloe and Clark entered.

"Clark?" She asked Chloe in desperation, close to tears.

"We think it will take a little while to kick in." Clark said, calling her attention to her short, blonde 'son', standing across the other side of the room.

"Oh." Martha managed to utter, deflated and fighting to stay calm, sinking back into her chair.

"It's ok." Chloe tried to reassure the two Kents. "We didn't expect it to work immediately, anyway."

"Of course not." Jonathan said, trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

Martha quickly changed the subject.

"Would anyone like a hot chocolate?" She asked, walking over to the sink.

"That sounds great, Mrs. Kent." Chloe said, seating herself in the empty seat beside Jonathan.

"Yeah, thanks, Mom."

"Jonathan?" Martha asked.

"Sure." He answered half-heartedly, lost in his own thoughts.

No one saw Chloe's face cloud with discomfort, as Clark clutched her stomach, starting to feel strange.

It wasn't long before the drinks had been distributed, and all were sipping contentedly, or at least trying to make it look that way. Clark's discomfort had slowly increased in the last thirty minutes. He felt… tight, and he was sure the dainty little hands wrapped around his mug were larger than they had been a half an hour ago. It would have been a joyous discovery, had it not been so uncomfortable.

He shifted his weight around in the seat, trying to find a comfy position, when all of a sudden the discomfort turned to severe pain, and he leaned forward involuntarily, bracing his arm against the table, trying to subdue the ruthless pain shooting through his body.

"Clark?" Chloe asked, placing her mug down. "Are you alright?

"I think something's happening." He panted.

Chloe gasped and Martha and Jonathan's heads shot up when they heard their son's voice emanating from Chloe's mouth.

Suddenly Chloe let out a small, high-pitched moan, and doubled over.

Clark saw her, and heard the difference in their voices, but paid little attention. He was vaguely aware of slipping off his stool and tumbling to the floor, but the pain in his belly was intensifying by the minute, and spreading outwards until his whole body felt as if it were on fire.

There was another sensation too. The best way to describe it would be 'stretching'. He could feel his bones and muscles stretching and his skin had to stretch to accommodate all the extra mass.

Then the pain moved to his face. His features felt as if they were shifting around. The pain was agonizing. He had never experienced pain this severe. Not even around the meteor rocks.

And just as suddenly as the pain started, it stopped.

Clark lay motionless on the ground for a few seconds incase it returned. When it didn't, he cautiously released the tension from his body, and glanced around. he was sweating. His parent's were knelt down beside him, staring, mouths agape. His body felt bigger, he could tell straight away.

He lifted his head slightly, and tried to a glimpse of himself.

Despite the fact that he had just felt as if he was being torn apart and stapled back together, he couldn't help his face breaking into a huge grin when he saw his own chest with Chloe's red blouse stretched tightly across it.

He cautiously propped himself up on his elbows, and looked around.

His parents couldn't contain themselves any longer, and threw their arms around him in unison.

"Clark! Oh, thank God!" Martha sobbed into his shoulder, Jonathan even shedding a secret tear. They acted as if he nearly died, and heck, it probably looked as if he had.

But he didn't hold it against them; he himself couldn't have been happier. He wanted to run to a mirror and just stare at his reflection for hours, it felt so good to be in his own body!

Chloe let out a small moan, calling all three Kents attention over to the other side of the kitchen, where Chloe had collapsed.

"Chloe!" Clark forced himself up off the floor, the last few remaining buttons popping off Chloe's blouse as he did so.

He awkwardly tried to make his way over to Chloe as quickly as he could while wearing girls jeans several sizes too small.

He crouched/sat/fell down beside her, and checked he for bruises. She lay not-quite motionless, dressed in a white t-shirt, black leather jacket, and large jeans. She didn't look good. She was very pale, and her breathing was shallow and raspy.

"Chloe." He repeated, trying desperately to get her to open her eyes. "It worked! We switched back."

Chloe didn't move.

"Please… say something." Clark almost moaned.

Slowly, Chloe's eyelids fluttered open, and she coughed a few times. When she recovered, her eyes scanned his body, snug in her jeans and blouse, and she smiled, managing to croak sarcastically;

"Looking good, Clark. Red is so your color."