Chlark Fanfic: Peach Bikini, Chapter 2
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Title: Peach Bikini
Author: BabyDee
Pairing: Chlark
Rating: PG13
Warnings: None
Timeline: Season 3-ish; companion piece/prequel to The Perfect Gift
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CW & DC comics.
Summary: When Chloe loses to Clark in a debate she has to wear a two-piece swimsuit to Crater Lake - much to his delight.
Feedback: …makes me squee. J
Read Chapter 1 here.
Chapter 2
Pretty soon the entire school was buzzing about the upcoming big debate between Ninth Grade best friends Clark and Chloe. Factions For and Against were created along lines of gender and personal beliefs, though for the most part the girls were firmly entrenched in Chloe’s camp, while the boys generally backed Clark. There were, however, a significant number of male supporters on Chloe side simply because they believed in the death penalty and wanted to show their support, so statistically she clearly had the advantage.
“…And the fact that I’ve never lost a debate in my life probably has a lot to do with it,” Chloe said smugly over lunch the following afternoon. “How are those rap rehearsals coming along, by the way?”
Clark muttered something under his breath and walked away from the table. Truth was those rehearsals weren’t coming along well at all. Memorising the lyrics (if you could call them that) wasn’t the problem; thanks to his Kryptonian abilities he could speed-read, and retain large chunks of information in his head. The trouble was - and always had been - his appalling sense of rhythm. Simply put, it sucked.
***
And it wasn't getting any better.
For the next three days, Clark spent more time trying to perfect the art of gangsta rapping than he did researching his debate topic. Despite having a photographic memory with 100 percent recall and a hardcore gangsta rap fan at his beck and call, he just couldn’t figure out exactly how it was done.
“One, two, three and to the four…”
“There’s a pause between ‘the’ and ‘four’, Clark,” Pete said dryly, resting his chin on his hand.
Clark swallowed and started again, trying to get the correct pacing.
“…Snoop Doggy Dogg and Doctor Dre are at the door…”
“Is at the door, not ‘are’ at the door.”
“What? That grammar's appalling!” he protested.
“That grammar is the language of gangsta rap,” he said simply, and jumped off the tractor. “And again - pause between ‘the’ and ‘door’.”
Clark scowled and shut off the backing track. “I just don’t understand Snoop’s pacing,” he grumbled. “It’s weird. Do you think Chloe would let me pick my own rapper, maybe?”
Pete frowned as he considered the possibility. “I suppose she could be persuaded to be flexible,” he said after a while. “Who did you have in mind?”
Clark shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m not exactly an expert on these things,” he admitted. “But I suppose I could try something of Eminem’s; he’s white, after all, and-”
“And you must be outta your mind!” Pete exclaimed. “Emimem? Seriously?”
“You’ll be shredded to pieces if you even attempted anything by Slim Shady, Clark,” Chloe said as she breezed into the barn, carrying a large shopping bag.
Clark frowned. “Who’s Slim Shady?”
Chloe and Pete exchanged knowing glances and snorted. “She’s right, Clark,” he said. “You’d never master a Shady rap in four days. Snoop’s actually the much easier choice; best stick with him.”
Clark sighed and sat on a haybale. “Really?”
“Definitely,” Chloe replied. “I mean, I want to humiliate you, but not that much.”
Clark scowled at her cocky statement. “What are you doing in enemy territory, anyway?” he asked.
She grinned. “I came to give you this.” She tossed the shopping bag in his direction, which he deftly caught. “It’s your get-up for the big night. I wanted to make sure that even if your rapping sucks, you’d at least still look the part.”
Pete grabbed the bag out of Clark’s hands and opened it. And burst out laughing.
“Harsh, Chloe. You are taking no prisoners!” he exclaimed. Clark stared, horrified, as Pete pulled out an oversized clock on a garishly thick gold neck chain, a red baseball cap covered in sequins and mirror fragments, and a navy blue hoodie and with the word CLARKIZZLE! emblazoned on it in bright gold graffiti.
“See you Friday!” she said airily as she got to her feet and skipped out of the loft.
Clark stared at her retreating back, then glanced glumly at the humongous items in the shopping bag. Gingerly he lifted the gnarly clock-and-chain and sighed.
“I can’t do it, Pete,” he said, alarm creeping into his voice. “What was I thinking? I can’t gangsta rap to save my life.”
Pete shut off the CD player and got to his feet. “Then you have to win,” he said simply. “C’mon…let’s get down the public library before they close and get a move on with your research.”
***
Despite all her bravado, Chloe Sullivan was a bag of nerves.
A Two-Piece. Of all the things he could have dared her to do, he’d demanded she appear in public...in a Two-Piece. It was one of the few things she feared in the world.
Oh, she went swimming all the time, and she was comfortable and confident enough to go for a dip with Clark and Pete in a full one piece bathing suit; but the thought of appearing before them in what was essentially a bra and panties gave her the heebiejeebies.
Her brow furrowed in worry as she pored over several thick texts on the application of Capital Punishment in America. She was determined to win this debate, just as she had done with all the others; but that hadn’t stopped her working out with the cheerleaders and having daily 1-hour training sessions in the gym with Carly.
She smiled to herself. It was strange, but this whole debate thing had turned both her and Clark into minor school celebrities. The idea of two best buds, one male one female, squaring off against each other had made them universally likeable, especially amongst their own classmates. She hoped they’d all at least remain on a good rapport when it was all over.
And of course, she hoped Clark wouldn’t be too wounded when she handed him his ass on Friday. They were best friends, but she was sure he wouldn’t be amused if she humiliated him to harshly. Maybe she should tone it down; go easy on him.
But her charitable mood lasted only until the following afternoon, when she opened her locker to see a brightly wrapped soft parcel. Frowning, she pulled the string and tore the paper off…and glared.
Inside was a peachy-orange coloured string bikini, complete with gold hoops and rings in strategic places.
“Oh, my God,” she moaned, and rested her head against the locker door.
“Hey, what’s up, Chloe?” asked Carly as she sauntered by. She stuck her head in the locker and her eyes widened.
‘That’s it, huh?” she drawled, lifting up the bra and inspecting it. "Nice!"
Chloe grabbed the offending item out of her hand and tried to shove it back in the locker before anyone saw.
Too late. “Ooh, is that it?” squealed a visibly excited Lana. “What do you think?”
“What do I think?” she echoed. “I think I’m about to have a heart attack, that’s what I think! And how did he even get my size?”
Lana chose that exact moment to hum innocently and focus on a small tile in the corner of the ceiling.
Chloe’s jaw dropped. “Lana! How could you?” she wailed.
A guilty flush stained Lana’s cheeks and she sighed. “Look, Clark was going to get you a two-piece either way, and I figured it would be best if he got you something that both fits, and looks nice,” she pointed out.
“She's got a point,” Carly agreed, but Chloe shook her head.
“I can’t wear this,” she replied flatly. “I just...can’t.”
Carly shrugged. “Why not? It’s beautiful.”
Chloe snorted. “The bathing suit? Yes. With me it it? Not so much.”
“Don’t be silly. It’ll look great on you!” Lana argued.
Chloe stared at her incredulously. “Really? Have you seen my thighs?”
Carly rolled her eyes. “You’ve got a great body, Chloe, you just need to believe that.”
“Yeah? Well unfortunately, I don’t. Oh, what am I gonna do?” she wailed.
Carly sighed and pushed the locker shut. “One hundred crunches, that’s what we’re gonna do,” she said grimly, grabbing Chloe’s elbow and steering her in the direction of the school gym. Chloe grabbed Lana’s elbow as well and fixed her with a stern glare.
“You're doing this with me," she grumbled under her breath. "Judas.”
Lana giggled, but Chloe was far from amused. After betraying her to the enemy, the least Lana could do was suffer the pain of a workout.
***
Chapter 3…