Shake Your Pom-Poms
Originally posted by futurescribbler at Shake Your Pom-Poms
Your Username: FutureScribbler/Hotcrossedbunny
Username of the requester: Malugargula
The prompt: Chloe/Jason - fanfic where Lana never went to Paris so Jason arrives on SV after S3, still becomes the coach and meet Chloe at the school.
Title of the work: Shake Your Pom-Poms
Pairing: Chloe/Jason
Type of fill: Fic
Rating: PG-13
Length: 6,850
A/N: I have taken many liberties.
Shake Your Pom-Poms
Chloe hugged her knees tightly to her chest and buried her face in them. She was beyond humiliated, there was no way that she could ever show her face in school again. She was asking, no telling, her Dad that she wanted to be home-schooled from now on, that was the only option. No, even that wasn’t an option, she couldn’t go home either, that was why she was huddled under the bleachers, shaking with tears running down her face.
“Knock knock”, a deep masculine voice called to her gently.
“God Clark just please go away”, why couldn’t he see that she didn’t want to talk to him right then? She didn’t want to talk or see him ever again actually.
“Sorry, I’m neither God nor Clark”, the voice continued.
Chloe raised her head to see who it was, her natural curiosity getting the better of her.
“Just your friendly neighbourhood football coach”, the newest member of faculty smiled kindly at her, “Well”, he shrugged one shoulder, “part-time assistant football coach technically speaking, but that had too many syllables”.
In spite of herself, Chloe felt the corner of her mouth turn upwards. If only for a second.
“Can I come in or is this a very private place?” Jason Teague inquired politely but with a laugh in his eyes.
“Oh yes, I’m sorry but you have to get reservations these days to sit alone under the bleachers”, she told him with as much solemnity as she could muster.
“Well, I always believed that rules are supposed to be broken”, he ducked under the odd seat/stairs commination and remained bent as he approached her. He wasn’t as tall as Clark, but he was no slouch. “I can see why it is so coveted” he looked around, pointedly at the gum sticking under the benches. “Very … earthy”.
“Yeah, it’s part of its rustic charm”, she wiped her face with the back of her hand when he was inspecting the gum.
“Yes, well I can see that”, he said, sitting down next to her. He didn’t try to curl into a ball like her, but he sat with his knees bent a little and looked as if he found the position rather uncomfortable. He shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.
Normally, Chloe would have objected most strongly to this as she had always found it ridiculous and didn’t want him to be cold either, although he was also wearing a sweater, but allowed it in this case thinking that he was probably embarrassed by her in her cheerleader’s outfit. She certainly was. It hadn’t seemed quite this small, or quite this red when she had put it on.
“So, a lot of strange things happen in Smallville huh?” He commented after a few minutes of silence had passed and it became clear that Chloe wasn’t going to start the conversation.
“Yeah”.
Nor was she apparently going to try to continue a conversation. “Although I suppose that spiking the punch is quite common”, he pondered the matter, examining her out of the corner of his eye, “I can’t say that I’ve ever heard of anyone creating a fully functioning love potion and slipping it into the athletes’ water supply before”.
“It wouldn’t have happened if they didn’t have funny coloured sport’s drink”, Chloe replied, seeing him staring at her, “As a general rule in Smallville, if it glows green don’t touch or eat it”.
“I’ll have to remember that”, he laughed. “Although that probably applies to most things in life, not just things in Smallville”.
“True”, she considered the matter. “Most things don’t naturally glow green”.
“Why did you drink it then?” He couldn’t help but ask.
“I was thirsty”, she replied with a shrug. She hadn’t been thinking at the time, she had been more interested in her potential article and, well, watching Clark play football.
“If I had a nickel for every time I’ve used that excuse …” He gave her a knowing nudge, “although that was mostly alcohol”.
She opened her mouth and then shut it. He saw it and grinned.
“You were about to say ‘I know the feeling’ or something along those lines until you remembered that I am a teacher, weren’t you?”
“No”, she straightened up immediately, goaded.
He looked at her penetratingly. The only other person she had seen do that had been Lex Luthor. She briefly wondered if that was something that they taught in certain schools.
“Fine, maybe”, she relented.
“Well, I’m only a part time teacher and I’m not on duty at the moment”, he winked at her, “so your secret is safe with me”.
She narrowed her eyes. “Sure”. Clearly he was on duty, if he weren’t then he wouldn’t be crouching underneath the bleachers on the damp ground with a high school girl he didn’t know who was wearing a cheerleading outfit.
“You know, I was advised to read some of your articles actually. I’ve only got through a handful of them so far but from what I can tell, for you at least, this is a fair typical day. I mean spiking the punch probably doesn’t come close to some of the weird stuff that you have encountered”, he tried to coax more out of her.
“No”, she agreed but then her gaze went back down to her bare knees. She never wore short skirts, or shorts, or in fact ever let anyone see her knees. She swallowed as the humiliation of that day crashed over her in a tidal wave once again, washing away all of the coach’s attempts to take her mind off things. “Parading around in your own person cheerleader costume probably tops it all though”.
“Yeah, I imagine that it would”, he agreed with a sly grin, “I mean, if you’re a dumb teenage boy then that would give you bragging rights for a verrrrrrry long time!”
“So there is no chance this will be forgotten by say Monday?” She sure as hell was taking tomorrow/Friday off.
“No, not a chance”, he replied honestly and cheerfully. “Most of the boys won’t have stopped drooling by then, however I think that I’ve got you beat for all time most embarrassing moment that has ever happened to a high school student”.
She looked back up at him, her expression an equal mix of dubiousness and hopefulness.
He leant in conspiratorially, “Do you solemnly swear not to tell anyone?”
She nodded eagerly.
“I’m serious Miss Sullivan, your reputation precedes you”, he warned.
“It’s off the record I swear”, she held her hand up like a Girl Scout. She had never actually been a member of that fine organisation of course, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I was a really puny little kid. I mean, really awful, and I went to a boarding school where there is this very rigid hierarchy and the people on the bottom are basically treated like garbage”, he started his story with due gravity.
“That’s high school everywhere”, she informed him.
“Yeah, probably. Anyway, there was a midnight feast come party thing”, he continued with a rueful smile.
“Sounds fancy”, she put in.
“I was determined not to be the butt of everyone’s jokes anymore so when the older boys started handing around the whiskey I took it”, he painted the picture.
“You drank it?” She surmised.
“I glugged it, seriously. It was so stupid I could have given myself liver failure or something. I didn’t, obviously”, he indicated to the fact that he was still alive and kicking, “I just got so drunk that I let them dress me up in the matron’s clothes and take pictures of me. Then I threw up, rather spectacularly”.
“Did you get one of them at least?” Chloe asked hopefully, trying not to show the compassion she felt for the small scrawny boy he had once been. She wanted to cuddle him but knew that that was completely inappropriate.
“Oh yeah, I got all of them, and a few of my friends, and a suit of armour, but mostly me”, he recounted, not without humour.
“Probably a good job you threw up though, right?” Chloe reached out a hand to rub his arm and then used it to pull his jacket around him more closely instead.
“Probably”, he admitted, “from my health’s perspective at least, but it didn’t really feel that way at the time”.
“No, I don’t imagine that it would”. She knew what he was trying to do, put her problems into perspective but it wasn’t working. When he spoke to her it got better, but the second that his warm baritone disappeared so did the feeling of comfort.
“Not good enough?” He saw. “Okay, here’s another one. My first kiss”.
“Juicy?”
“More saliva-y really”, he rubbed the back of his neck. “I also head butted her, got my braces caught with hers and drooled on her a bit”.
“You are making that up”, she accused him even as she laughed at the image.
“Chloe, I’m shocked …”
“No one is that pathetic!”
“Hey, be nice or I won’t tell you the rest”, he warned her.
“Fine, I promise”, she extended her pinkie towards him.
“What’s that?”
“A pinkie promise. Here”, she reached over and took his hand ignoring the sparks that went through her as she did so. She did her best to hide her blush as she explained, “you put your pinkies together like this”
“Like this”, he intertwined his fingers with hers.
“Yes, this is a pinkie promise. A sacred vow”.
“Wow, I can’t say that I’ve ever made a sacred vow before”, he gave her a knee melting smile. Thankfully she wasn’t using her knees at that moment.
She carefully extracted her hand from his and demanded, “So tell me!”
“I finally had a growth spurt, gained enough weight to almost balance it out, got the braces off and finally went to a party where I wasn’t known as Vomit Boy”, he started and she noticed that he blushed slightly.
“Inventive lot when it comes to naming, teenaged boys”.
“Yes, that was what really hurt the lack of originality”, he joked. “Anyway, I was at this party. I saw this girl that I thought was gorgeous … and didn’t have the courage to ask her out. So I approached the chubby one next to her and got turned down. It was the most awful moment of my life at that time, I was sure that I would die right then and there. She ripped my heart out, chucked it in a blender, pureed it and shoved it down my throat”.
“She was that brutal?” Chloe asked compassionately.
“No”, he admitted with a smile, “she was really sweet. But I swear that wasn’t how it felt at that moment”.
Chloe placed her hand over her mouth so that she wouldn’t be seen giggling. She had promised after all.
“That’s great”, he grinned, “I get humiliated so badly that I thought that I was going to die and you laugh”.
“Did that really happen or was that just one of those stories that adults tell as part of the whole ‘High School Isn’t Your Whole Life’ thing?” She asked, pulling herself together as best she could.
“Ouch?” He clamped his hand over his heart dramatically, “Adult? That hurt!”
“And clearly”, he opened his arms, referring to their location, “high school is my whole life!”
She smiled. A real smile.
“It’s going to be alright, you know?” His voice was tender, “The next week is going to be tough. Actually, the rest of the year probably will be. I mean you’ve got the prudes, the bitches, the guys who are drooling over you, the girls of the guys who are drooling over you … But, that’s not what you are really dreading is it?”
“No”, she admitted.
“Right, well as we have already established, that story I told you was crap”, he teased her, “sorry you’re a minor”.
“I’m 17”, she cut in.
“A minor”, he reiterated, “I should have said poopy and, getting back to the point, I have never myself met with rejection”.
She laughed, even though she wasn’t sure whether he was being serious or not.
“Hey, I was being serious”, he said, but with a teasing glint in his eyes.
“Sorry”, she apologised, trying to keep a straight face. She had no idea how it was possible that he could make her so giggly when she had been so depressed and the problems hadn’t disappeared.
“But I can imagine that it would be hard. Telling someone you like them and then not having them say it back. That’s got to hurt”, he commiserated.
“Yeah”, time after time after time after … “Thanks for reminding me”.
He smiled. “See and you thought that you would never forget it”.
“You think I will?” Suddenly every trace of mirth was gone from her tone. She stared at him not as a teacher but as a man who seemed to have more knowledge about her on this subject. She needed someone, other than her Dad, to promise her that it was going to be alright. That she wouldn’t always feel the way that she had when that accursed drink had worn off.
“No, you will remember it for the rest of your life. But the rest of the world won’t”, he reached over and squeezed her shoulder, “or in the case of the boys it will just be a pleasant memory”.
“Hmmm …” She didn’t seem to be capable of saying anything else or ignore the feel of his hand on her shoulder. It seemed incredibly large to her.
“Want some advice?” He said, in a tone which implied she was going to get it whether she wanted it or not.
“I don’t know, do I?” She titled her head to examine him. He was very handsome. She hadn’t noticed it before because she was so strung up on Clark to notice anyone else but he really was handsome. He didn’t have Clark’s natural ebony curls, having being given more ordinary boring brown straight hair but it looked good on him. His eyes were not piercing and blue, but they were warm and chocolatey. He was so incredibly masculine, warm and comforting which was odd considering his strong cheekbones and long, almost feminine lashes. How had she never noticed what the other girls did before?
“I think so. It’s really good”, he encouraged her.
“Fine, hit me with it”, she resigned herself.
“Thank him and brazen it out”. There it was. His advice. Short and sweet.
“What?” Chloe exclaimed. This was probably why she had never noticed his looks before, because he was not that smart.
“No one knows exactly what caused this whole mess. If the concoction/potion thing magnified an already existing attraction or just made you attracted to the first person you saw. I suggest that you go for the second one, write it that way in your article and before that comes out go and thank him for ‘not taking advantage’ the way that someone else would have.”
“That idea has merit”, she considered the point carefully.
“It has more than merit, it is genius if I do say it my very humble self”, he grinned.
“I’ll think about it”, she conceded.
“Stand up straight, seek him out, sound convincing and”, he grinned even more broadly, “if all else fails: shake your pom-poms at him. Men like that”.
“Thanks for the pep talk coach”.
“Anytime. I do especially well with girlie problems”.
~*~
Chloe checked her make-up in the car, by which she meant she scrubbed it off and reapplied it, before shoving her shoulders back and heading into the house. She wished that Lana had moved to Paris like she had been thinking last year. As it was, Chloe knew that she would probably have to face her and that Lana would know that her blonde host had once again made a fool of herself.
“Please please please don’t let her be in”, Chloe thought to herself as she opened the door and walked into, “Clark?”
“Chloe”, he gasped and looked almost scared.
“And Lana”, her eyes fell on the girl standing only a few feet behind Clark, looking equally anxious. “What no Talon today?” She asked conversationally as she dumped her book bag by the side of the door. Messy was her middle name after all. It would have raised suspicions if she had put it away.
“Hey Chloe”, Lana greeted a little too brightly, “no, Clark came over to talk to me about something actually”.
“Oh, intriguing”, Chloe said in a funny voice, “I’ll leave you too love birds alone then”.
“No, it’s nothing like that”, they both hastened to assure her.
“Okay then”, Chloe smiled, the coach at been right, this was easier than she had thought. Just thinking about their conversation brought a warm, genuine smile to her lips. “Well Clark when you have a sec I wanted a word, I was about to call you actually, but …”
“No”, Lana cut in, “I’ve got something to do.”
“Okay, cool”, Chloe waved as Lana headed out of the back door, apparently without even bothering to take her keys, unless she already had them on her. “That was odd. Clark”, she turned to him. “Are you two okay?”
“Um yeah I mean we’re not together, we’re …”
“I know. Stringing around”, she smirked at him, causing his eyes to widen dramatically. “Look Clark”, she changed to an utterly sincere tone of voice, “I just wanted to say thank-you”.
“For what?” The confusion which plagued his brow did not lessen.
“Well, you saved me once again.” She laughed. “I could have ended up in a much worse situation today if I had seen anyone but you first after I had drunk that damned punch”. She gave this information a second to sink in before she pressed on, “When will I learn to check for glowing green substances before eating or touching anything?”
“What?”
“You don’t remember? I turn into your own personal cheerleader and you don’t remember. Well that’s flattering”, she declared in an over-dramatic fashion, desirous of getting a laugh.
It didn’t work, Clark only became more flustered. “No, I mean of course I remember I just didn’t know exactly what was going on …”
“Right, cheerleaders feel insecure, buy a ‘love potion’ off the internet which clearly doesn’t work, add some green powder to make it the right colour but being in Smallville of course it was meteor rock which has weird properties. They give their boyfriends the drink ergo they are the first one they see after drinking it and they become obsessed. I, on the other hand, helped myself while watching the game”.
“Right “, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Imagine if it had been one of the already taken football players. I would probably have ended up nearly dead again and I promised my Dad this year no death threats - or at least fewer than last year”, Chloe continued, hoping that he was buying this.
“Right”, he couldn’t quite joke about it the way that she did but he was starting to relax. At least Chloe didn’t still have feelings for him.
“Or the coach, I would have been suspended. Or coach Teague” she shivered.
“Right”.
“You were the safe option so I guess what I’m saying is”, she bounced up onto her toes and kissed him on the cheek, “thanks for being a gentleman as always and … can we please never discuss this again?”
“Right”.
“Know any other words there big fella?” She teased him and slugged him lightly on the arm alla Lois.
“Right, um, yeah. Just the first person you saw.” He stared at her.
“Yeah”, she blinked up at him, “oh no, Clark you didn’t think that I …”
“No no of course not”, he hastened to assure her.
“Lana doesn’t? Do you want me to explain what happened to her?” Chloe moved as if she would have run after her friend there and then.
“No no”, Clark said, his arm closing around her arm to keep her in place. “It’s fine she understands that we are just friends”.
“Great, well in that case I need to shower”, she announced and stared at his hand on her arm, noting that she felt no fireworks.
“Um okay”, Clark released her.
“Great”, she repeated and bounced up the stairs only to turn back around just in time to find him staring at her legs, “Clark?”
“Yeah”, he fixed his eyes on her face with a blush.
“Do you want to stay for dinner?” She asked cheerfully, as if she had noticed anything out of the ordinary. “I’m thinking of making my speciality!”
“Ordering in?” He grinned at her.
“Yeah, Italian!”
“Count me in”, he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Great”, she grinned and continued to bounce along her way, before she got to the landing, “oh and Clark?”
“Chloe?”
“Here”, she tossed her pom-poms down to him. “The whole cheerleader thing just isn’t me”.
He laughed then articled something that he been bothering him. “Chlo”, he called out.
“Yeah?”
“Whose is the jacket?”
~*~
“Hi Coach Teague. Hello Coach Teague. Good morning Coach Teague”, none of those introductions sounded right Chloe pondered the problem as she paced out of the boy’s locker rooms.
“Chloe?”
“Coach Teague”, she squeaked.
“That’s my name but I am enjoying the new method of pronunciation Coach Teague”, he did an imitation of her for the last two words.
“Pitch and pronunciation are different things”, Chloe pointed out, unimpressed.
“Very true. So tell me Chloe Sullivan”, his voice raised to a falsetto, “what can I do for you?”
“Nothing, I just wanted to give you this back before school started and say thanks for not telling anyone about …”
“Oh, you mean that you didn’t want me to put it on my Facebook page?” He asked in mock horror, then laughed. “I’m just kidding. It was Myspace”.
“What a relief!” Chloe said with a good deal of sarcasm.
“Don’t worry, my multitudes of followers won’t pay any attention to that piece of information, they are too busy reading about what I had for lunch five days in a row. Peanut butter and jelly! Hell yeah!” He held up his hand for a high five.
She laughed at him but did not slap his hand. She got the feeling like he liked to make a lot of jokes.
“Honestly, kids today they have no respect for their elders”, he continued to nettle her.
“Anyway”, she was apparently the more mature of the two of them, “here you go”. She handed the neatly folded, ironed garment back to him. She had got her Dad to iron it for her to avoid the possibility of burning a hole straight through it.
“Spring time fresh”, he inhaled.
“I used fabric conditioner”, she said feeling uncomfortable. Who on earth announced that they had used fabric conditioner?
“Thank-you, but you didn’t have to do that”.
“Oh that’s okay, we had plenty in the house.” Why the hell couldn’t she shut up about the stupid fabric conditioner? Did she work for the company who sold it or something?
He smiled at her as if he could hear the conversation going on in her head but this time, instead of nettling her, he changed the subject, “Thank goodness I thought that you were going to ask me for an interview”.
“An interview”, Chloe instantly perked up, forgetting her embarrassment. “Would you?”
“No no”, he suddenly looked rather scared, “I’m boring. Really, terribly boring”.
“Oh come on”, she started to cajole him even as she privately thought that that love potion must really have done a number on her. How else was it possible that she hadn’t thought of asking him for an interview?
“I don’t think that that’s a good idea”, he tried to dissuade her.
“Come on”, she smiled at him winningly.
“Chloe …”
“Please”.
“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to put my foot down and say no”.
~*~
“So Coach Teague, thank-you for having agreed to do this interview”, Chloe beamed at the newest (and hottest) member of Smallville High’s teaching staff from behind her desk at The Torch.
“You really didn’t give me much of a choice”, he grumbled good-naturedly.
“It’s not as if I lay down in front of your car or anything”, she said dismissively.
“No you … wait, you didn’t really do that did you?” He stared at her in shock.
“Yeah, actually I’ve used it several times but I stopped using that as a ploy when someone ran me over”, she explained, finding it surprising and almost refreshing to meet someone who didn’t know they lengths she would go to for a story.
“They did what?” He exploded, jumping to his feet.
“Ran me over”, she repeated. “Actually that’s happened to me several times” she said, thinking about it.
“Are they in jail now, right?” He asked, running his hand over his head and the back of his neck as he sat back down, trying to compose himself.
“One of them is. The other is in Belle Reeve. The other was never found”, Chloe thought about it. This new teacher had really better toughen up if he was going to last in Smallville. Maybe he would have been better off in Granville.
“Never found?” He repeated, incredulously.
“My Dad has an alibi for the whole night”, she replied cheerfully.
He smiled, “I’m sure he does. You know I think that I remember seeing him at that bar”.
“Church”, she corrected him.
“Right church, all night”, he announced solemnly.
She laughed. “I’ll tell him that. So, are you going to continue to try to evade questioning or can we get on with the interview now?”
“You know I’m fairly certain that I can give you detention Miss Sullivan”, he threatened.
“No, you can’t”, she shook her head.
“Really?” He crossed his arms over his chest and leant back, “because I have been going through your records”.
“My grades are excellent”. She wasn’t bragging, it was just a fact.
“Yes, they are”, he agreed, “until it comes to gym”.
“Well, gym isn’t a real subject”, she shrugged it off. She was hardly going to get upset about gym! Then she noted the expression on the face of the man sitting opposite her, and remembered who he was and what he did. “I mean it is, all of that running and jumping and …”
He laughed. “Tactful”.
“What I mean”, her brain began to formulate an excuse which would, hopefully, hold water, “is that due to my busy schedule, classes, running The Torch, saving Smallville from meteor freaks on a regular basis and bringing down Lionel Luthor I just don’t have time for it!”
“Well”, he leant forwards conspiratorially, “I will give you one personal tid bit about me ..”
“What?” Chloe mimicked his motion.
“My father always preached a healthy mind in a healthy body”, he informed her.
“Good for him”, she might be dense - what had that potion done to her? - but what did that have to do with the situation in hand?
He crossed his arms. “I believe very strongly in fitness too”.
“Hence the choice in profession?”
“I think that you should go to class”, he concluded.
“That’s worse than detention”, she cried out.
“That’s worrying”, his voice lacked its usual mirth.
“I’m not that out of shape”, she took umbrage.
“That’s not what I meant …”
“I get all of the exercise I need outrunning golf carts”, she expostulated, her ire rising. She should have known that he would only respect a gym bunny like Lana.
“Chloe that’s not what I meant”, he declared, far more forcefully this time. She paused in the middle of her tirade and stared at him, for a second so shocked by his transformation that she wasn’t really sure what to say. “No workout, no questions”, he stated simply.
“You know that this is cruelty to …”
“Actually”, he cut her off, “it’s exercise that you are required by law to do”.
“Law shmaw. It’s never stopped me before!”
~*~
“You sadistic bastard!”
“I’ve been called worse”, Jason said with a grin, “but this is only the warm up”.
“I’ve already pulled every single muscle in my body”, Chloe complained as she stretched her back out. This was the first time that she had been in the gym - for none reporting reasons - since her freshman year. At least this time there was only one other inhabitant as it was after school and she didn’t have to wear a stupid school P.E. skirt. She didn’t have any clothes really suited to working out so she had slipped into a pair of leggings she normally used for layering a look, a random tank top that she would never be able to look at again after this and had borrowed a sports bra from Lana which was a bit too tight.
“Hence my belief in regular physical activity”, Jason explained, somehow without sounding judgemental.
“Really?” She wiggled eyebrow at him, he wasn’t the only one who could make inappropriate jokes.
“Sullivan”, he warned. “Come on, let’s get that heart rate up”.
“Don’t you know that an elevated heart rate is a sign of high blood pressure?” She protested.
“Move it, Sullivan”, he began to jog and Chloe moved alongside him begrudgingly. “So, what do you want to know?” He asked, he was a man of his word. If she did the exercise then he would answer her questions.
She tried to remember her questions, but it was hard. “You were born into a rich family, with a silver spoon in your mouth, never need to work a day in your life, why are you here working in a middle of nowhere high school while you get your education at MetU?”
“You aren’t starting me off easily”, he inquired with a grin.
“Well, neither did you”, she pointed out.
“Come on Chloe, pick up the pace”, he smirked at her and revealed that he could go far faster than he was letting on and she had to matching it if she wanted to hear his answer.
“Fine”, she huffed, “but this had better be good!”
“I went through high school - well, all of my life really - very easily. Loads of friends, everything that money could buy, amazing women …” He began to talk, increasing his speed as he did.
“Sounds terrible”, Chloe snapped as her chest began to hurt. She hated running.
“But I didn’t know what was real, what I had earned, who was just sucking up. So I decided to strike out on my own”, he somehow began to run even faster.
“Impressive. A cliché but impressive”, Chloe called deciding that she wasn’t running any faster even if meteor freaks were on her tail.
“And we are going to be doing the sprint finish”, he said dropping back into line with her.
“I don’t know why half the female population of the school has a crush on you. Do they know how sadistic you really are?” She groused.
“Probably not”, he smirked. “Come on”, he powered on to the finish line.
Chloe followed, several minutes later collapsing onto the floor. Lying on her back. Panting.
“I wanted a fresh start”, he explained as he crouched down beside her.
“That makes sense”, she panted out once she could.
He brushed a sweaty lock of hair from her forehead. “Come on lazy bones”.
~*~
“I hate that no good sadistic bastard!” Chloe groaned. She was lying on her bed, after taking a shower still in her fuzzy towel, too tired and sore to move.
“Chloe?” She heard her name being called from the other side of the door.
“Wha?” She replied tiredly.
Apparently taking that as permission to enter the inner sanctum, Lana came through the door, followed by Clark who blushed and looked away when he saw the condition that Chloe was in.
“What happened to you?” Lana exclaimed.
“Coach Teague”, she moaned, “God I’m so sore”.
~*~
“Oh for the love of God stop ringing the damn doorbell”, Chloe groaned. She had been lying on her bed for the last hour or so, Lana and Clark had finally left and she thought that she would have some peace and quiet.
“This had better be bloody important”, she groused as she reached the bottom of the staircase.
The doorbell continued to ring.
“Keep your panties on”, she snapped at the door. She moaned as she lifted her arm (had is always been this heavy?) up to unlock the door. She didn’t have the energy to look through the peephole first. If a meteor freak hell bent on destruction had come calling, then she could just hope that he would be quick about it.
Slowly the door opened, creaking so loudly that Chloe thought it was probably her back the way that she was feeling. Neither Chloe nor her father were handy. She would have to ask Clark to see if he could do something about it. Finally the door was fully open and revealed not a meteor freak, but Coach Teague, looking pretty damned mad.
“Chloe what the hell were you thinking when … Oh, sorry”, he turned around automatically when he saw what she was wearing, or rather not wearing.
Chloe looked down at herself, her neck protesting as she did so. Oh yeah, she was still wearing a fuzzy towel and nothing else.
“I’m too tired to get changed”, she said, also too tired to care about manners. “Either say what you came to say or go away”.
“I can’t talk to you with my back turned”, he protested.
“So turn around, I’m mostly covered”, Chloe huffed. Her feet hurt.
“Right”, Jason turned around and she noted that he was blushing, although there was still a bite to his tone when he spoke to her. “Can I come in?”
“Sure”, she got out of the way and was relieved that he closed the door. It looked very painful in that moment.
“Why did you do it?”
“Do what?” She frowned. It turned out that even her forehead muscles had been overworked.
“What do you think?” He demanded.
“I haven’t the faintest idea and I’m far too tired to try to figure it out so why don’t you just tell me?” She sighed, sagging slightly even as she said it.
“Chloe?” He stared at her, his anger temporarily abated.
“Yeah?”
“You really aren’t well are you?” He stared at her with concern.
“I’m fine or I would be if some sadistic, probably meteor rock fuelled, lunatic hadn’t escaped from Bellereve and decided to vent his anger on me”, she groused, and seeing his increased consternation, adding, “by pulling every single muscle in my body”. Had he really not get that she was referring to him?
“Oh, sorry about that”, he looked around the Sullivan’s small hallway and located the open plan living/dining/kitchen area towards the back of the house. “Come on”, he wrapped his arms around her waist and helped her over there and onto the sofa. His heart genuinely going out to the girl as she winced as she sat down.
“Did you do the cool down exercises I recommended?” He inquired as he placed a cushion in the right place to support her lower back.
“Of course I bloody didn’t, I was shattered”, she snapped.
“That was probably a mistake”, he commented.
She rolled her eyes. “God”, she moaned, as she realised that even this method of venting her wrath was to be denied her.
He smiled at her in commiseration, “Even your eyes hurt?”
“Yes”, she pouted.
“That’s terrible”, he supressed the urge to hug her with difficulty. “Is there anything that I can do for you?”
“No, I’ve already taken painkillers so unless you want to reach above the fridge to get another packet so that I can drown myself in the damned things then …”
“No”, he stated gravely.
“Then just say whatever it is so that I can lie down again and try to get to sleep”, she said tersely.
“If you sleep like this then you will just end up even more stiff”, he told her, trying to remember what it was that he had even come here to tell her. It must have been important, he had looked up her address in the school’s directory and driven over there like a man possessed. Ah, yes, that was it. “Chloe, how could you?”
“Oh goodie, we are back to this”, he didn’t sound particularly happy.
“What the hell did you tell Clark about me?”
“Clark? About you?” She stared at him perplexed, “Nothing. I haven’t even spoken to him really. I mean I took your advice yesterday and …”
“No, today”, he snapped, “between our workout and half an hour ago”.
“What are you talking about? I haven’t even spoken to him today … I don’t think. Wait he might have been here when Lana was in my room”, she pondered.
“Oh great! And you told her what exactly?” He demanded seeing his reputation and professional career going down the tubes.
“Nothing, I don’t think. I don’t remember. Probably something about you being a bastard and being sore”, she tried to shrug and ended up wincing.
“You said that I was a bastard and that you were sore?” He questioned, a small smile playing around his lips.
“Yeah, I think so. Why?”
“Well, that would probably explain his decision to track me down, pin me against a wall and threaten to rip my still beating heart out of my chest and shoe it down my throat, before he turned me into the police if I ever went near you again”, he said, quivering with mirth now that he had discovered the source of the misunderstanding.
“Oh no. He didn’t. You … Are you alright?” Chloe asked, as she tried to wrap her mind around the idea.
“Yeah, I’m fine”, he smiled, “thanks for caring”.
She narrowed her eyes at him, knowing that he was teasing her again. “What are you talking about? I don’t care. In fact, I think that you got what you deserved after the way that you treated me so abominably”.
“I answered your questions, didn’t I?” He challenged.
“Yes, but you made me do exercise! What’s next? Cooking?” The thought was enough to make her shudder and the local hospital pale.
“No, I can’t cook”, he continued in a light tone.
“Thank God for that”, she couldn’t help but smile at him. She really should get him checked out for meteor rocks.
“But I can do something to make this up to you”, he offered persuasively.
“I’m listening”, she tried not to sound as if she were being won over.
He grinned in a way that made her heart melt. “Sports therapy”, he explained as he positioned himself behind her and began to massage her tight shoulders.
“Oh God”, she groaned involuntarily.
“You okay there?” He asked with a smile.
“I forgive you”, she sighed.
He grinned, “This is my superhero ability”.
“Yeah, good”, she said as coherently as she could considering that her brain was turning to mush.
Chloe began to relax and somehow ended up lying on her front, her towel undone down to her waist, with the Jason happily massaging her back. He was discovering a lot about her: 1) she was incredibly tense, 2) she probably needed a new computer chair with better lumbar support, 3) she had the cutest smattering of freckles he had ever seen, 4) the softest flesh that he had ever felt, and 5) she made sex noises when she got massaged. Real, honest to God, sex noises.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that this was wrong but it just felt natural to be here with her and he couldn’t seem to stop himself from trying to make her moan again and again. He swallowed and shifted his weight slightly; he didn’t want her to be able to feel his growing hardness against her ass.
“What the hell is going on here?”
They both jumped, Jason’s hands automatically going to cover her back up with the towel.
They craned around to see Clark standing in the doorway, with Lana hovering behind him, scowling, fuming and looking about ready to commit murder.
“Seriously, six years I can’t get him to notice me and suddenly he’s everywhere like a bad rash”, Chloe mutter.
“I told you”, Jason whispered back, and tried to deemphasise his hard on. “boys go nuts for pom-poms”.
A/N: Yeah, so I had a little trouble filling this prompt in that I filled it twice. Sorry. Go to the next post if you would like to read my other option.
Your Username: FutureScribbler/Hotcrossedbunny
Username of the requester: Malugargula
The prompt: Chloe/Jason - fanfic where Lana never went to Paris so Jason arrives on SV after S3, still becomes the coach and meet Chloe at the school.
Title of the work: Shake Your Pom-Poms
Pairing: Chloe/Jason
Type of fill: Fic
Rating: PG-13
Length: 6,850
A/N: I have taken many liberties.
Shake Your Pom-Poms
Chloe hugged her knees tightly to her chest and buried her face in them. She was beyond humiliated, there was no way that she could ever show her face in school again. She was asking, no telling, her Dad that she wanted to be home-schooled from now on, that was the only option. No, even that wasn’t an option, she couldn’t go home either, that was why she was huddled under the bleachers, shaking with tears running down her face.
“Knock knock”, a deep masculine voice called to her gently.
“God Clark just please go away”, why couldn’t he see that she didn’t want to talk to him right then? She didn’t want to talk or see him ever again actually.
“Sorry, I’m neither God nor Clark”, the voice continued.
Chloe raised her head to see who it was, her natural curiosity getting the better of her.
“Just your friendly neighbourhood football coach”, the newest member of faculty smiled kindly at her, “Well”, he shrugged one shoulder, “part-time assistant football coach technically speaking, but that had too many syllables”.
In spite of herself, Chloe felt the corner of her mouth turn upwards. If only for a second.
“Can I come in or is this a very private place?” Jason Teague inquired politely but with a laugh in his eyes.
“Oh yes, I’m sorry but you have to get reservations these days to sit alone under the bleachers”, she told him with as much solemnity as she could muster.
“Well, I always believed that rules are supposed to be broken”, he ducked under the odd seat/stairs commination and remained bent as he approached her. He wasn’t as tall as Clark, but he was no slouch. “I can see why it is so coveted” he looked around, pointedly at the gum sticking under the benches. “Very … earthy”.
“Yeah, it’s part of its rustic charm”, she wiped her face with the back of her hand when he was inspecting the gum.
“Yes, well I can see that”, he said, sitting down next to her. He didn’t try to curl into a ball like her, but he sat with his knees bent a little and looked as if he found the position rather uncomfortable. He shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.
Normally, Chloe would have objected most strongly to this as she had always found it ridiculous and didn’t want him to be cold either, although he was also wearing a sweater, but allowed it in this case thinking that he was probably embarrassed by her in her cheerleader’s outfit. She certainly was. It hadn’t seemed quite this small, or quite this red when she had put it on.
“So, a lot of strange things happen in Smallville huh?” He commented after a few minutes of silence had passed and it became clear that Chloe wasn’t going to start the conversation.
“Yeah”.
Nor was she apparently going to try to continue a conversation. “Although I suppose that spiking the punch is quite common”, he pondered the matter, examining her out of the corner of his eye, “I can’t say that I’ve ever heard of anyone creating a fully functioning love potion and slipping it into the athletes’ water supply before”.
“It wouldn’t have happened if they didn’t have funny coloured sport’s drink”, Chloe replied, seeing him staring at her, “As a general rule in Smallville, if it glows green don’t touch or eat it”.
“I’ll have to remember that”, he laughed. “Although that probably applies to most things in life, not just things in Smallville”.
“True”, she considered the matter. “Most things don’t naturally glow green”.
“Why did you drink it then?” He couldn’t help but ask.
“I was thirsty”, she replied with a shrug. She hadn’t been thinking at the time, she had been more interested in her potential article and, well, watching Clark play football.
“If I had a nickel for every time I’ve used that excuse …” He gave her a knowing nudge, “although that was mostly alcohol”.
She opened her mouth and then shut it. He saw it and grinned.
“You were about to say ‘I know the feeling’ or something along those lines until you remembered that I am a teacher, weren’t you?”
“No”, she straightened up immediately, goaded.
He looked at her penetratingly. The only other person she had seen do that had been Lex Luthor. She briefly wondered if that was something that they taught in certain schools.
“Fine, maybe”, she relented.
“Well, I’m only a part time teacher and I’m not on duty at the moment”, he winked at her, “so your secret is safe with me”.
She narrowed her eyes. “Sure”. Clearly he was on duty, if he weren’t then he wouldn’t be crouching underneath the bleachers on the damp ground with a high school girl he didn’t know who was wearing a cheerleading outfit.
“You know, I was advised to read some of your articles actually. I’ve only got through a handful of them so far but from what I can tell, for you at least, this is a fair typical day. I mean spiking the punch probably doesn’t come close to some of the weird stuff that you have encountered”, he tried to coax more out of her.
“No”, she agreed but then her gaze went back down to her bare knees. She never wore short skirts, or shorts, or in fact ever let anyone see her knees. She swallowed as the humiliation of that day crashed over her in a tidal wave once again, washing away all of the coach’s attempts to take her mind off things. “Parading around in your own person cheerleader costume probably tops it all though”.
“Yeah, I imagine that it would”, he agreed with a sly grin, “I mean, if you’re a dumb teenage boy then that would give you bragging rights for a verrrrrrry long time!”
“So there is no chance this will be forgotten by say Monday?” She sure as hell was taking tomorrow/Friday off.
“No, not a chance”, he replied honestly and cheerfully. “Most of the boys won’t have stopped drooling by then, however I think that I’ve got you beat for all time most embarrassing moment that has ever happened to a high school student”.
She looked back up at him, her expression an equal mix of dubiousness and hopefulness.
He leant in conspiratorially, “Do you solemnly swear not to tell anyone?”
She nodded eagerly.
“I’m serious Miss Sullivan, your reputation precedes you”, he warned.
“It’s off the record I swear”, she held her hand up like a Girl Scout. She had never actually been a member of that fine organisation of course, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I was a really puny little kid. I mean, really awful, and I went to a boarding school where there is this very rigid hierarchy and the people on the bottom are basically treated like garbage”, he started his story with due gravity.
“That’s high school everywhere”, she informed him.
“Yeah, probably. Anyway, there was a midnight feast come party thing”, he continued with a rueful smile.
“Sounds fancy”, she put in.
“I was determined not to be the butt of everyone’s jokes anymore so when the older boys started handing around the whiskey I took it”, he painted the picture.
“You drank it?” She surmised.
“I glugged it, seriously. It was so stupid I could have given myself liver failure or something. I didn’t, obviously”, he indicated to the fact that he was still alive and kicking, “I just got so drunk that I let them dress me up in the matron’s clothes and take pictures of me. Then I threw up, rather spectacularly”.
“Did you get one of them at least?” Chloe asked hopefully, trying not to show the compassion she felt for the small scrawny boy he had once been. She wanted to cuddle him but knew that that was completely inappropriate.
“Oh yeah, I got all of them, and a few of my friends, and a suit of armour, but mostly me”, he recounted, not without humour.
“Probably a good job you threw up though, right?” Chloe reached out a hand to rub his arm and then used it to pull his jacket around him more closely instead.
“Probably”, he admitted, “from my health’s perspective at least, but it didn’t really feel that way at the time”.
“No, I don’t imagine that it would”. She knew what he was trying to do, put her problems into perspective but it wasn’t working. When he spoke to her it got better, but the second that his warm baritone disappeared so did the feeling of comfort.
“Not good enough?” He saw. “Okay, here’s another one. My first kiss”.
“Juicy?”
“More saliva-y really”, he rubbed the back of his neck. “I also head butted her, got my braces caught with hers and drooled on her a bit”.
“You are making that up”, she accused him even as she laughed at the image.
“Chloe, I’m shocked …”
“No one is that pathetic!”
“Hey, be nice or I won’t tell you the rest”, he warned her.
“Fine, I promise”, she extended her pinkie towards him.
“What’s that?”
“A pinkie promise. Here”, she reached over and took his hand ignoring the sparks that went through her as she did so. She did her best to hide her blush as she explained, “you put your pinkies together like this”
“Like this”, he intertwined his fingers with hers.
“Yes, this is a pinkie promise. A sacred vow”.
“Wow, I can’t say that I’ve ever made a sacred vow before”, he gave her a knee melting smile. Thankfully she wasn’t using her knees at that moment.
She carefully extracted her hand from his and demanded, “So tell me!”
“I finally had a growth spurt, gained enough weight to almost balance it out, got the braces off and finally went to a party where I wasn’t known as Vomit Boy”, he started and she noticed that he blushed slightly.
“Inventive lot when it comes to naming, teenaged boys”.
“Yes, that was what really hurt the lack of originality”, he joked. “Anyway, I was at this party. I saw this girl that I thought was gorgeous … and didn’t have the courage to ask her out. So I approached the chubby one next to her and got turned down. It was the most awful moment of my life at that time, I was sure that I would die right then and there. She ripped my heart out, chucked it in a blender, pureed it and shoved it down my throat”.
“She was that brutal?” Chloe asked compassionately.
“No”, he admitted with a smile, “she was really sweet. But I swear that wasn’t how it felt at that moment”.
Chloe placed her hand over her mouth so that she wouldn’t be seen giggling. She had promised after all.
“That’s great”, he grinned, “I get humiliated so badly that I thought that I was going to die and you laugh”.
“Did that really happen or was that just one of those stories that adults tell as part of the whole ‘High School Isn’t Your Whole Life’ thing?” She asked, pulling herself together as best she could.
“Ouch?” He clamped his hand over his heart dramatically, “Adult? That hurt!”
“And clearly”, he opened his arms, referring to their location, “high school is my whole life!”
She smiled. A real smile.
“It’s going to be alright, you know?” His voice was tender, “The next week is going to be tough. Actually, the rest of the year probably will be. I mean you’ve got the prudes, the bitches, the guys who are drooling over you, the girls of the guys who are drooling over you … But, that’s not what you are really dreading is it?”
“No”, she admitted.
“Right, well as we have already established, that story I told you was crap”, he teased her, “sorry you’re a minor”.
“I’m 17”, she cut in.
“A minor”, he reiterated, “I should have said poopy and, getting back to the point, I have never myself met with rejection”.
She laughed, even though she wasn’t sure whether he was being serious or not.
“Hey, I was being serious”, he said, but with a teasing glint in his eyes.
“Sorry”, she apologised, trying to keep a straight face. She had no idea how it was possible that he could make her so giggly when she had been so depressed and the problems hadn’t disappeared.
“But I can imagine that it would be hard. Telling someone you like them and then not having them say it back. That’s got to hurt”, he commiserated.
“Yeah”, time after time after time after … “Thanks for reminding me”.
He smiled. “See and you thought that you would never forget it”.
“You think I will?” Suddenly every trace of mirth was gone from her tone. She stared at him not as a teacher but as a man who seemed to have more knowledge about her on this subject. She needed someone, other than her Dad, to promise her that it was going to be alright. That she wouldn’t always feel the way that she had when that accursed drink had worn off.
“No, you will remember it for the rest of your life. But the rest of the world won’t”, he reached over and squeezed her shoulder, “or in the case of the boys it will just be a pleasant memory”.
“Hmmm …” She didn’t seem to be capable of saying anything else or ignore the feel of his hand on her shoulder. It seemed incredibly large to her.
“Want some advice?” He said, in a tone which implied she was going to get it whether she wanted it or not.
“I don’t know, do I?” She titled her head to examine him. He was very handsome. She hadn’t noticed it before because she was so strung up on Clark to notice anyone else but he really was handsome. He didn’t have Clark’s natural ebony curls, having being given more ordinary boring brown straight hair but it looked good on him. His eyes were not piercing and blue, but they were warm and chocolatey. He was so incredibly masculine, warm and comforting which was odd considering his strong cheekbones and long, almost feminine lashes. How had she never noticed what the other girls did before?
“I think so. It’s really good”, he encouraged her.
“Fine, hit me with it”, she resigned herself.
“Thank him and brazen it out”. There it was. His advice. Short and sweet.
“What?” Chloe exclaimed. This was probably why she had never noticed his looks before, because he was not that smart.
“No one knows exactly what caused this whole mess. If the concoction/potion thing magnified an already existing attraction or just made you attracted to the first person you saw. I suggest that you go for the second one, write it that way in your article and before that comes out go and thank him for ‘not taking advantage’ the way that someone else would have.”
“That idea has merit”, she considered the point carefully.
“It has more than merit, it is genius if I do say it my very humble self”, he grinned.
“I’ll think about it”, she conceded.
“Stand up straight, seek him out, sound convincing and”, he grinned even more broadly, “if all else fails: shake your pom-poms at him. Men like that”.
“Thanks for the pep talk coach”.
“Anytime. I do especially well with girlie problems”.
~*~
Chloe checked her make-up in the car, by which she meant she scrubbed it off and reapplied it, before shoving her shoulders back and heading into the house. She wished that Lana had moved to Paris like she had been thinking last year. As it was, Chloe knew that she would probably have to face her and that Lana would know that her blonde host had once again made a fool of herself.
“Please please please don’t let her be in”, Chloe thought to herself as she opened the door and walked into, “Clark?”
“Chloe”, he gasped and looked almost scared.
“And Lana”, her eyes fell on the girl standing only a few feet behind Clark, looking equally anxious. “What no Talon today?” She asked conversationally as she dumped her book bag by the side of the door. Messy was her middle name after all. It would have raised suspicions if she had put it away.
“Hey Chloe”, Lana greeted a little too brightly, “no, Clark came over to talk to me about something actually”.
“Oh, intriguing”, Chloe said in a funny voice, “I’ll leave you too love birds alone then”.
“No, it’s nothing like that”, they both hastened to assure her.
“Okay then”, Chloe smiled, the coach at been right, this was easier than she had thought. Just thinking about their conversation brought a warm, genuine smile to her lips. “Well Clark when you have a sec I wanted a word, I was about to call you actually, but …”
“No”, Lana cut in, “I’ve got something to do.”
“Okay, cool”, Chloe waved as Lana headed out of the back door, apparently without even bothering to take her keys, unless she already had them on her. “That was odd. Clark”, she turned to him. “Are you two okay?”
“Um yeah I mean we’re not together, we’re …”
“I know. Stringing around”, she smirked at him, causing his eyes to widen dramatically. “Look Clark”, she changed to an utterly sincere tone of voice, “I just wanted to say thank-you”.
“For what?” The confusion which plagued his brow did not lessen.
“Well, you saved me once again.” She laughed. “I could have ended up in a much worse situation today if I had seen anyone but you first after I had drunk that damned punch”. She gave this information a second to sink in before she pressed on, “When will I learn to check for glowing green substances before eating or touching anything?”
“What?”
“You don’t remember? I turn into your own personal cheerleader and you don’t remember. Well that’s flattering”, she declared in an over-dramatic fashion, desirous of getting a laugh.
It didn’t work, Clark only became more flustered. “No, I mean of course I remember I just didn’t know exactly what was going on …”
“Right, cheerleaders feel insecure, buy a ‘love potion’ off the internet which clearly doesn’t work, add some green powder to make it the right colour but being in Smallville of course it was meteor rock which has weird properties. They give their boyfriends the drink ergo they are the first one they see after drinking it and they become obsessed. I, on the other hand, helped myself while watching the game”.
“Right “, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Imagine if it had been one of the already taken football players. I would probably have ended up nearly dead again and I promised my Dad this year no death threats - or at least fewer than last year”, Chloe continued, hoping that he was buying this.
“Right”, he couldn’t quite joke about it the way that she did but he was starting to relax. At least Chloe didn’t still have feelings for him.
“Or the coach, I would have been suspended. Or coach Teague” she shivered.
“Right”.
“You were the safe option so I guess what I’m saying is”, she bounced up onto her toes and kissed him on the cheek, “thanks for being a gentleman as always and … can we please never discuss this again?”
“Right”.
“Know any other words there big fella?” She teased him and slugged him lightly on the arm alla Lois.
“Right, um, yeah. Just the first person you saw.” He stared at her.
“Yeah”, she blinked up at him, “oh no, Clark you didn’t think that I …”
“No no of course not”, he hastened to assure her.
“Lana doesn’t? Do you want me to explain what happened to her?” Chloe moved as if she would have run after her friend there and then.
“No no”, Clark said, his arm closing around her arm to keep her in place. “It’s fine she understands that we are just friends”.
“Great, well in that case I need to shower”, she announced and stared at his hand on her arm, noting that she felt no fireworks.
“Um okay”, Clark released her.
“Great”, she repeated and bounced up the stairs only to turn back around just in time to find him staring at her legs, “Clark?”
“Yeah”, he fixed his eyes on her face with a blush.
“Do you want to stay for dinner?” She asked cheerfully, as if she had noticed anything out of the ordinary. “I’m thinking of making my speciality!”
“Ordering in?” He grinned at her.
“Yeah, Italian!”
“Count me in”, he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Great”, she grinned and continued to bounce along her way, before she got to the landing, “oh and Clark?”
“Chloe?”
“Here”, she tossed her pom-poms down to him. “The whole cheerleader thing just isn’t me”.
He laughed then articled something that he been bothering him. “Chlo”, he called out.
“Yeah?”
“Whose is the jacket?”
~*~
“Hi Coach Teague. Hello Coach Teague. Good morning Coach Teague”, none of those introductions sounded right Chloe pondered the problem as she paced out of the boy’s locker rooms.
“Chloe?”
“Coach Teague”, she squeaked.
“That’s my name but I am enjoying the new method of pronunciation Coach Teague”, he did an imitation of her for the last two words.
“Pitch and pronunciation are different things”, Chloe pointed out, unimpressed.
“Very true. So tell me Chloe Sullivan”, his voice raised to a falsetto, “what can I do for you?”
“Nothing, I just wanted to give you this back before school started and say thanks for not telling anyone about …”
“Oh, you mean that you didn’t want me to put it on my Facebook page?” He asked in mock horror, then laughed. “I’m just kidding. It was Myspace”.
“What a relief!” Chloe said with a good deal of sarcasm.
“Don’t worry, my multitudes of followers won’t pay any attention to that piece of information, they are too busy reading about what I had for lunch five days in a row. Peanut butter and jelly! Hell yeah!” He held up his hand for a high five.
She laughed at him but did not slap his hand. She got the feeling like he liked to make a lot of jokes.
“Honestly, kids today they have no respect for their elders”, he continued to nettle her.
“Anyway”, she was apparently the more mature of the two of them, “here you go”. She handed the neatly folded, ironed garment back to him. She had got her Dad to iron it for her to avoid the possibility of burning a hole straight through it.
“Spring time fresh”, he inhaled.
“I used fabric conditioner”, she said feeling uncomfortable. Who on earth announced that they had used fabric conditioner?
“Thank-you, but you didn’t have to do that”.
“Oh that’s okay, we had plenty in the house.” Why the hell couldn’t she shut up about the stupid fabric conditioner? Did she work for the company who sold it or something?
He smiled at her as if he could hear the conversation going on in her head but this time, instead of nettling her, he changed the subject, “Thank goodness I thought that you were going to ask me for an interview”.
“An interview”, Chloe instantly perked up, forgetting her embarrassment. “Would you?”
“No no”, he suddenly looked rather scared, “I’m boring. Really, terribly boring”.
“Oh come on”, she started to cajole him even as she privately thought that that love potion must really have done a number on her. How else was it possible that she hadn’t thought of asking him for an interview?
“I don’t think that that’s a good idea”, he tried to dissuade her.
“Come on”, she smiled at him winningly.
“Chloe …”
“Please”.
“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to put my foot down and say no”.
~*~
“So Coach Teague, thank-you for having agreed to do this interview”, Chloe beamed at the newest (and hottest) member of Smallville High’s teaching staff from behind her desk at The Torch.
“You really didn’t give me much of a choice”, he grumbled good-naturedly.
“It’s not as if I lay down in front of your car or anything”, she said dismissively.
“No you … wait, you didn’t really do that did you?” He stared at her in shock.
“Yeah, actually I’ve used it several times but I stopped using that as a ploy when someone ran me over”, she explained, finding it surprising and almost refreshing to meet someone who didn’t know they lengths she would go to for a story.
“They did what?” He exploded, jumping to his feet.
“Ran me over”, she repeated. “Actually that’s happened to me several times” she said, thinking about it.
“Are they in jail now, right?” He asked, running his hand over his head and the back of his neck as he sat back down, trying to compose himself.
“One of them is. The other is in Belle Reeve. The other was never found”, Chloe thought about it. This new teacher had really better toughen up if he was going to last in Smallville. Maybe he would have been better off in Granville.
“Never found?” He repeated, incredulously.
“My Dad has an alibi for the whole night”, she replied cheerfully.
He smiled, “I’m sure he does. You know I think that I remember seeing him at that bar”.
“Church”, she corrected him.
“Right church, all night”, he announced solemnly.
She laughed. “I’ll tell him that. So, are you going to continue to try to evade questioning or can we get on with the interview now?”
“You know I’m fairly certain that I can give you detention Miss Sullivan”, he threatened.
“No, you can’t”, she shook her head.
“Really?” He crossed his arms over his chest and leant back, “because I have been going through your records”.
“My grades are excellent”. She wasn’t bragging, it was just a fact.
“Yes, they are”, he agreed, “until it comes to gym”.
“Well, gym isn’t a real subject”, she shrugged it off. She was hardly going to get upset about gym! Then she noted the expression on the face of the man sitting opposite her, and remembered who he was and what he did. “I mean it is, all of that running and jumping and …”
He laughed. “Tactful”.
“What I mean”, her brain began to formulate an excuse which would, hopefully, hold water, “is that due to my busy schedule, classes, running The Torch, saving Smallville from meteor freaks on a regular basis and bringing down Lionel Luthor I just don’t have time for it!”
“Well”, he leant forwards conspiratorially, “I will give you one personal tid bit about me ..”
“What?” Chloe mimicked his motion.
“My father always preached a healthy mind in a healthy body”, he informed her.
“Good for him”, she might be dense - what had that potion done to her? - but what did that have to do with the situation in hand?
He crossed his arms. “I believe very strongly in fitness too”.
“Hence the choice in profession?”
“I think that you should go to class”, he concluded.
“That’s worse than detention”, she cried out.
“That’s worrying”, his voice lacked its usual mirth.
“I’m not that out of shape”, she took umbrage.
“That’s not what I meant …”
“I get all of the exercise I need outrunning golf carts”, she expostulated, her ire rising. She should have known that he would only respect a gym bunny like Lana.
“Chloe that’s not what I meant”, he declared, far more forcefully this time. She paused in the middle of her tirade and stared at him, for a second so shocked by his transformation that she wasn’t really sure what to say. “No workout, no questions”, he stated simply.
“You know that this is cruelty to …”
“Actually”, he cut her off, “it’s exercise that you are required by law to do”.
“Law shmaw. It’s never stopped me before!”
~*~
“You sadistic bastard!”
“I’ve been called worse”, Jason said with a grin, “but this is only the warm up”.
“I’ve already pulled every single muscle in my body”, Chloe complained as she stretched her back out. This was the first time that she had been in the gym - for none reporting reasons - since her freshman year. At least this time there was only one other inhabitant as it was after school and she didn’t have to wear a stupid school P.E. skirt. She didn’t have any clothes really suited to working out so she had slipped into a pair of leggings she normally used for layering a look, a random tank top that she would never be able to look at again after this and had borrowed a sports bra from Lana which was a bit too tight.
“Hence my belief in regular physical activity”, Jason explained, somehow without sounding judgemental.
“Really?” She wiggled eyebrow at him, he wasn’t the only one who could make inappropriate jokes.
“Sullivan”, he warned. “Come on, let’s get that heart rate up”.
“Don’t you know that an elevated heart rate is a sign of high blood pressure?” She protested.
“Move it, Sullivan”, he began to jog and Chloe moved alongside him begrudgingly. “So, what do you want to know?” He asked, he was a man of his word. If she did the exercise then he would answer her questions.
She tried to remember her questions, but it was hard. “You were born into a rich family, with a silver spoon in your mouth, never need to work a day in your life, why are you here working in a middle of nowhere high school while you get your education at MetU?”
“You aren’t starting me off easily”, he inquired with a grin.
“Well, neither did you”, she pointed out.
“Come on Chloe, pick up the pace”, he smirked at her and revealed that he could go far faster than he was letting on and she had to matching it if she wanted to hear his answer.
“Fine”, she huffed, “but this had better be good!”
“I went through high school - well, all of my life really - very easily. Loads of friends, everything that money could buy, amazing women …” He began to talk, increasing his speed as he did.
“Sounds terrible”, Chloe snapped as her chest began to hurt. She hated running.
“But I didn’t know what was real, what I had earned, who was just sucking up. So I decided to strike out on my own”, he somehow began to run even faster.
“Impressive. A cliché but impressive”, Chloe called deciding that she wasn’t running any faster even if meteor freaks were on her tail.
“And we are going to be doing the sprint finish”, he said dropping back into line with her.
“I don’t know why half the female population of the school has a crush on you. Do they know how sadistic you really are?” She groused.
“Probably not”, he smirked. “Come on”, he powered on to the finish line.
Chloe followed, several minutes later collapsing onto the floor. Lying on her back. Panting.
“I wanted a fresh start”, he explained as he crouched down beside her.
“That makes sense”, she panted out once she could.
He brushed a sweaty lock of hair from her forehead. “Come on lazy bones”.
~*~
“I hate that no good sadistic bastard!” Chloe groaned. She was lying on her bed, after taking a shower still in her fuzzy towel, too tired and sore to move.
“Chloe?” She heard her name being called from the other side of the door.
“Wha?” She replied tiredly.
Apparently taking that as permission to enter the inner sanctum, Lana came through the door, followed by Clark who blushed and looked away when he saw the condition that Chloe was in.
“What happened to you?” Lana exclaimed.
“Coach Teague”, she moaned, “God I’m so sore”.
~*~
“Oh for the love of God stop ringing the damn doorbell”, Chloe groaned. She had been lying on her bed for the last hour or so, Lana and Clark had finally left and she thought that she would have some peace and quiet.
“This had better be bloody important”, she groused as she reached the bottom of the staircase.
The doorbell continued to ring.
“Keep your panties on”, she snapped at the door. She moaned as she lifted her arm (had is always been this heavy?) up to unlock the door. She didn’t have the energy to look through the peephole first. If a meteor freak hell bent on destruction had come calling, then she could just hope that he would be quick about it.
Slowly the door opened, creaking so loudly that Chloe thought it was probably her back the way that she was feeling. Neither Chloe nor her father were handy. She would have to ask Clark to see if he could do something about it. Finally the door was fully open and revealed not a meteor freak, but Coach Teague, looking pretty damned mad.
“Chloe what the hell were you thinking when … Oh, sorry”, he turned around automatically when he saw what she was wearing, or rather not wearing.
Chloe looked down at herself, her neck protesting as she did so. Oh yeah, she was still wearing a fuzzy towel and nothing else.
“I’m too tired to get changed”, she said, also too tired to care about manners. “Either say what you came to say or go away”.
“I can’t talk to you with my back turned”, he protested.
“So turn around, I’m mostly covered”, Chloe huffed. Her feet hurt.
“Right”, Jason turned around and she noted that he was blushing, although there was still a bite to his tone when he spoke to her. “Can I come in?”
“Sure”, she got out of the way and was relieved that he closed the door. It looked very painful in that moment.
“Why did you do it?”
“Do what?” She frowned. It turned out that even her forehead muscles had been overworked.
“What do you think?” He demanded.
“I haven’t the faintest idea and I’m far too tired to try to figure it out so why don’t you just tell me?” She sighed, sagging slightly even as she said it.
“Chloe?” He stared at her, his anger temporarily abated.
“Yeah?”
“You really aren’t well are you?” He stared at her with concern.
“I’m fine or I would be if some sadistic, probably meteor rock fuelled, lunatic hadn’t escaped from Bellereve and decided to vent his anger on me”, she groused, and seeing his increased consternation, adding, “by pulling every single muscle in my body”. Had he really not get that she was referring to him?
“Oh, sorry about that”, he looked around the Sullivan’s small hallway and located the open plan living/dining/kitchen area towards the back of the house. “Come on”, he wrapped his arms around her waist and helped her over there and onto the sofa. His heart genuinely going out to the girl as she winced as she sat down.
“Did you do the cool down exercises I recommended?” He inquired as he placed a cushion in the right place to support her lower back.
“Of course I bloody didn’t, I was shattered”, she snapped.
“That was probably a mistake”, he commented.
She rolled her eyes. “God”, she moaned, as she realised that even this method of venting her wrath was to be denied her.
He smiled at her in commiseration, “Even your eyes hurt?”
“Yes”, she pouted.
“That’s terrible”, he supressed the urge to hug her with difficulty. “Is there anything that I can do for you?”
“No, I’ve already taken painkillers so unless you want to reach above the fridge to get another packet so that I can drown myself in the damned things then …”
“No”, he stated gravely.
“Then just say whatever it is so that I can lie down again and try to get to sleep”, she said tersely.
“If you sleep like this then you will just end up even more stiff”, he told her, trying to remember what it was that he had even come here to tell her. It must have been important, he had looked up her address in the school’s directory and driven over there like a man possessed. Ah, yes, that was it. “Chloe, how could you?”
“Oh goodie, we are back to this”, he didn’t sound particularly happy.
“What the hell did you tell Clark about me?”
“Clark? About you?” She stared at him perplexed, “Nothing. I haven’t even spoken to him really. I mean I took your advice yesterday and …”
“No, today”, he snapped, “between our workout and half an hour ago”.
“What are you talking about? I haven’t even spoken to him today … I don’t think. Wait he might have been here when Lana was in my room”, she pondered.
“Oh great! And you told her what exactly?” He demanded seeing his reputation and professional career going down the tubes.
“Nothing, I don’t think. I don’t remember. Probably something about you being a bastard and being sore”, she tried to shrug and ended up wincing.
“You said that I was a bastard and that you were sore?” He questioned, a small smile playing around his lips.
“Yeah, I think so. Why?”
“Well, that would probably explain his decision to track me down, pin me against a wall and threaten to rip my still beating heart out of my chest and shoe it down my throat, before he turned me into the police if I ever went near you again”, he said, quivering with mirth now that he had discovered the source of the misunderstanding.
“Oh no. He didn’t. You … Are you alright?” Chloe asked, as she tried to wrap her mind around the idea.
“Yeah, I’m fine”, he smiled, “thanks for caring”.
She narrowed her eyes at him, knowing that he was teasing her again. “What are you talking about? I don’t care. In fact, I think that you got what you deserved after the way that you treated me so abominably”.
“I answered your questions, didn’t I?” He challenged.
“Yes, but you made me do exercise! What’s next? Cooking?” The thought was enough to make her shudder and the local hospital pale.
“No, I can’t cook”, he continued in a light tone.
“Thank God for that”, she couldn’t help but smile at him. She really should get him checked out for meteor rocks.
“But I can do something to make this up to you”, he offered persuasively.
“I’m listening”, she tried not to sound as if she were being won over.
He grinned in a way that made her heart melt. “Sports therapy”, he explained as he positioned himself behind her and began to massage her tight shoulders.
“Oh God”, she groaned involuntarily.
“You okay there?” He asked with a smile.
“I forgive you”, she sighed.
He grinned, “This is my superhero ability”.
“Yeah, good”, she said as coherently as she could considering that her brain was turning to mush.
Chloe began to relax and somehow ended up lying on her front, her towel undone down to her waist, with the Jason happily massaging her back. He was discovering a lot about her: 1) she was incredibly tense, 2) she probably needed a new computer chair with better lumbar support, 3) she had the cutest smattering of freckles he had ever seen, 4) the softest flesh that he had ever felt, and 5) she made sex noises when she got massaged. Real, honest to God, sex noises.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that this was wrong but it just felt natural to be here with her and he couldn’t seem to stop himself from trying to make her moan again and again. He swallowed and shifted his weight slightly; he didn’t want her to be able to feel his growing hardness against her ass.
“What the hell is going on here?”
They both jumped, Jason’s hands automatically going to cover her back up with the towel.
They craned around to see Clark standing in the doorway, with Lana hovering behind him, scowling, fuming and looking about ready to commit murder.
“Seriously, six years I can’t get him to notice me and suddenly he’s everywhere like a bad rash”, Chloe mutter.
“I told you”, Jason whispered back, and tried to deemphasise his hard on. “boys go nuts for pom-poms”.
A/N: Yeah, so I had a little trouble filling this prompt in that I filled it twice. Sorry. Go to the next post if you would like to read my other option.