"It is Fun to Have Fun, but You Have to Know How"
This is just a little preview; I have more planned but have yet to write it. This is my first time writing on this particular site, but I do have a couple of stories of under Alethianess (I'm only telling you this in case you wanted to check them out and couldn't find me.) So enjoy...and comment!
Edit: I just got it beta-d, both parts, so hopefully most of my mistakes are gone.
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I do not own anything of Smallville, names, characters, locations etc., except for all four seasons on DVD. I also don't own any rights to the movies, books, TV shows, songs, celebrities etc. that I may or may not make direct reference to.
Rock me mama, like a wagon wheel
Rock me mama, any way you feel
Chloe usually didn't like listening to country music. She certainly didn't know any other songs by the Old Crow Medicine Show. She was more into the more obscure bands, but today anything was possible. The warm, inviting music fit her mood exactly. The tune filled her with such happiness, spirit and hope; she felt no one could deflate her. She was permanently chipper.
Chloe was cruising down the open roads of Kansas, going a very familiar route, on a very familiar mission. Clark had been on the opposite end of the mood spectrum today. Unusually sullen, even for his standards, he had been moping around the Torch all afternoon, and hadn't even protested when she asked him to write an article on Smallville High's newly founded Golf Club, one of the single most boring activities a person could watch or participate in. Chloe figured that he could use some pepping up, and she was just the girl to do it.
She maneuvered down the gravelly road that led to the back of the house. Parked her car in the driveway, and stepped out of the car. She didn't even bother knocking, because half of the time, the Kent's never bothered locking their door. The second Chloe stepped into the spotless kitchen; she knew exactly what Clark was doing.
"Go Greased Lightnin', you're burnin' up the quarter mile (Greased Lightnin'! Go Greased Lightnin'!)
Go Greased Lightnin', you're coasting through the heat lap trail (Greased Lightnin'! Go Greased Lightnin'!)"
Chloe shook her head at no one, sighed, and walked into the living room. Clark was sitting on the living room couch, in a greasy white shirt, probably resulting from helping his dad fix the truck again, and jeans. He had a variety of chips around him, plenty more than any teenage boy would want, and he seemed to be making good progress in all of them. This must be stopped, thought Chloe. "Clark! You hate Grease!"
Noticing that Chloe was now present, Clark clicked off the TV mid-pelvis swing and turned to face her.
"What else was I supposed to do? It was the only thing that was on."
"Why do you assume that TV is the only thing you can do?" Chloe asked, releasing another sigh. She plopped down on an old armchair. The back was bumpy and unforgiving, so she leaned forward to look Clark right in the eye.
Under the pressure of Chloe's glare, Clark felt sheepish. He had intended to not let loose the fact that he was feeling less than special today. The previous night he hadn't gotten any sleep, for no apparent reason, other than the consistent problems in his life. He was so close to telling Chloe his secret, to letting go of some of the burden, but he was convinced she would betray him, intentionally or not.
"Because we live in small town America, hence the name, and there's nothing to do."
Chloe arched her eyebrows in surprise. "Wow, Sarcastic Clark. I never thought I'd see you present yourself."
Clark leaned back into his couch, creating a distance between him and Chloe. The conversation was getting too intense already. He just wanted to relax tonight.
"On the same note," he said, "why are you presenting yourself to me?"
Chloe relaxed back in her chair again, regretfully remembered too late that it was uncomfortable, and leaned forward once more. "Because it's a Friday night. Have you seen Andy Joan?"
"Who?" Clark asked. Although the name did ring familiar in his mind, he wasn't too up on current celebrities. Chloe was usually the first one he turned to if he needed help in that area…which was rarely.
"He's this really great lead singer and guitar player in Everyone's Kisses, you know that band? Suppose not, but everyone's buzzing about him, and I myself have been dying to see him. I hate going to concerts alone, especially when there's a mosh pit involved," Chloe stated enthusiastically. They were getting down to business.
"Mosh pit? Are you sure you're asking me? And are you sure there are people who enjoy mosh pits in Smallville?"
Chloe smiled worriedly. "Well you see, that's the thing," she started slowly, putting her sweetest and most pleading face on, "it's in Metropolis."
Clark did a double take. "What!" Chloe flinched at his reaction, even though she knew it was coming from a mile away. "Chloe! It's already 7 o'clock, by the time we get there, it'll be at least 10. There's no way we'd get there for the concert."
Not if you super speed, thought Chloe. But she knew that wasn't going to happen, because Clark didn't know what Alicia had shown her. Instead, she pushed forward. "Does that mean you'll go?" she prodded.
Clark already knew it was a lost battle, Chloe could basically get him to do anything short of jumping of a cliff, and even that was an option, since he'd survive. "No," he said resolutely. "And again, we'd never make it on time anyway, so what's the point of me even saying yes? If I were to say yes, that is." This time he made sure to cover all bases.
"We'd have plenty of time; you said we wouldn't be able to get there until 10? Perfect! The concert starts at midnight!"
"Chloe!" Clark said, jumping up. "You want us to go to a rock concert, in Metropolis, at MIDNIGHT? Are you out of your mind? My parents would never agree to that, and I doubt you father would to."
"Which means you'll go if you have permission from your parents!" Chloe gleamed. "No problem," she said as she stood up. And before Clark had time to realize he had made the same mistake, Chloe was out of the room and walking determinedly towards the barn, where she was sure she'd find the Kent parents.
Clark waited impatiently in the living room, pacing, for Chloe to return. He knew she'd get his parents to say yes; she could get anyone to do anything, with her innocent smile and sharp sensibility. How am I going to get out of this? Clark furrowed his brow at the question. Already he was starting to wear a path into the rug. I'm not, that's how. I'm going to be dragged to that concert, have a horrible time, and then laugh about it with Chloe. "Might as well enjoy the ride," Clark muttered out loud.
"What was that, Clark?" Chloe asked, entering the room, bringing Mr. and Mrs. Kent along with her.
Clark smiled sheepishly. "Oh, nothing. So, what's the verdict?"
"Son," his father started gravely. Chloe couldn't convince them! Clark thought cheerfully, it was taking all of his strength to keep a straight face. "I think you should go to this concert with Chloe."
"What?" Clark spluttered for the third time that night. "How in the world did you come to that conclusion?"
"Well," Mrs. Kent soothed, "we've been noticing you've been a little anti-social lately. We think this would be a good experience for you. You don't really listen to anything from this decade, and from what I hear, not only from Chloe, but from most of the town, he is a very good, talented young artist."
"Anti-social? Mom, I talk to the most popular girl in school almost every day."
"And by that you mean me, right?" Chloe teased, smirking and raising and eyebrow. She'd learned to take the things he said about Lana lightly, or else she'd never get through the week.
"Oh…um, of course." Clark said, wondering if he could be any more inconsiderate.
Clark, Clark, Clark. So much more to learn about flirting, Chloe thought, letting an amused smile play over her face.
Apparently Jonathan had been thinking along the same lines as he said, "See, Clark, you don't even know how to flirt! What eighteen-year-old boy doesn't know how to flirt?"
Martha looked shocked at Jonathan's blatancy, but it was obvious that they both agreed on the subject.
Clark's shoulders drooped and he admitted defeat, once and for all. "How much time do we have to get ready?" He asked grouchily. Chloe was all smiles; she knew Clark would cheer up once they were in the car. This night was going to be groundbreaking in their relationship, she could feel it, and she wasn't going to let five-year-old Clark be dominant for long.
"You don't really need to get ready, you look fine the way you are..."Chloe paused for a second, "but I would change your shirt…and your pants. How about I give you five minutes, and then you met me outside by the Buggy?"
"Okay. Mom, Dad, are you sure about this decision?"
"Of course were sure," replied Mr. Kent. "Don't worry about us."
"We'll be fine alone." Martha reassured.
Where in the world have I heard that before? Clark mused as he ran up the steps.