SV Fic: Pennies and Quarters
Set post-Hothead. Chloe/Clark friendship. PG. 1217 words.
notes: for lilbreck's Eclecticathon Season 1.
Above his head the sky was a deep blue color, pure and unmarred by even a single cloud. Below him the field was a bright green. But Clark wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings: he was lost in his thoughts. No one was around and he was alone, at least for the moment.
The moment ended, although he missed it.
“Quarter for your thoughts?”
The sudden intrusion of a voice made her startle. His body froze before relaxing again as he glanced up, finding Chloe standing on the bleachers next to where he was currently sitting. Her messenger bag was slung over her shoulder. In her right hand was a quarter.
“I thought it was a penny?”
“Inflation,” she said, a sad tone in her voice. “The cost of everything goes up, including the cost for thoughts.”
“Oh.”
Chloe sat, carefully lowering her body to the slightly creaky metal of the bleachers. From her, Clark took the quarter, turning it around in his fingers. The metal was smooth, shiny and new. It wasn’t dulled yet by the passage of time, by numerous hands handling it until it was taken out of circulation.
“Really, Clark, what’s on your mind? You didn’t even hear me come up the bleachers, and boots on metal isn’t exactly subtle.”
He shrugged. “I was thinking, I guess.”
“You guess? You were like a million miles away, like your head was in outer space. I was worried that I was going to have to climb into a spaceship to get you to come back down to earth.”
The mention of outer space made him laugh uncomfortably. He remembered when outer space used to fascinate him endlessly. Now outer space made him nervous, any talk of it a reminder of what he was. Or, more importantly, what Clark Kent wasn’t.
Human, that is. He wasn’t human and he still hadn’t adjusted to that fact. Each day he would check in the mirror to make sure his skin hadn’t turned green or gray or any of the colors traditionally associated with aliens. Chloe would know all the colors aliens had been, but Clark wasn’t about to ask.
“Clark?” she said, and he realized he had been quiet for too long. Quiet and alarming her, Clark figured.
Prolonged silences generally alarmed Chloe. They especially alarmed her if she had asked a question and wanted an answer.
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
Something in his tone made her face shift slightly. He couldn’t name the look that came over her face, just saw it for a fleeting second. Then it was gone, but the air had charged it seemed. The topic of what he had been thinking about was left behind, abandoned because Chloe apparently didn’t feel like pressing at this moment.
For that Clark was grateful. It reminded him that Chloe might have been a reporter, but she was his friend first.
“You did have an eventful week,” Chloe said, accepting his excuse of just being tired and therefore distracted as a result. She added, “Especially given that it involved saving me from certain death by our very own firestarter.”
It was also the week when he had gotten, then lost, football. Clark didn’t mention that, the pain from that lost not yet numbed. Instead he said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Which, of course, was true. He was glad Chloe was all right, even if he did worry that next time he could be too late to save her. He didn’t raise the subject of her investigating dangerous leads because she was Chloe the Reporter after all. Investigate was what she did and he could only hope he was around in case another meteor freak decided to do away with her instead of having her publish a story they didn’t like.
“All thanks to you,” Chloe said. Her voice had a touch of awe in it, and Clark wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. “I did say thank you, right?”
“You did.”
“Well, I feel the need to thank you again. What you did…you saved my life and risked yours.”
“It’s what friends do.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have been a crispy critter.”
He shifted in his seat, knowing he wasn’t quite the hero she was making him out to be. Fire couldn’t hurt him. Only green meteor rocks could hurt him, which made it easy for him to run into the fire to save her. He supposed, though, that even if he didn’t have powers, his actions would have been similar. Friends don’t let friends die, not if they can help it.
“I’m just glad I was around,” he said. “I like my Chloe Sullivan to be of the non-crispy critter variety.”
“So does she,” Chloe said. She smiled, and it was her usual bright smile that generally caused him to smile. Her face lit her when she smiled like this, the smile wide and stretching across her lips.
Clark reached out and ruffled her hair. Chloe slapped him lightly, threatening to hurt him if he touched her hair again. She was still smiling and Clark felt a slow smile spread across his face. He felt normal at this moment, like he was just a teenager hanging out with one of his best friends. For a moment the fears of being an alien, the pain of knowing he couldn’t play football, and the worry that one day he might not be able to save one of his friends slipped away.
“Wanna go get mochas? My treat for you saving my life?”
“Your treat?”
“I’ll even throw in chocolate chip cookies.”
“You’re going to be so hyper,” Clark said. The fears and the pain and the worries were back, but they were a part of his life. He just had to deal and move on and apparently this meant going to the coffee shop with his best friend to get hyped up on caffeine and sugar.
Chloe nodded her head, her smile still on her face. “It’ll be fun.”
It probably would be, he thought. So he said, “Let’s go then.”
“Yay!” Chloe clapped.
As he stood, he glanced towards the football field. The field was empty, but he could imagine players on it, could imagine the bleachers filled with cheering students.
Chloe touched his arm. He looked at her.
“Are you going to try out for the team again?” she asked. Her voice was gentle, not the usually probing tone that it sometimes held.
Clark shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
He expected Chloe to question him, but she didn’t. She let the topic drop without another word, just like she had earlier. With her hand still on his shoulder, she lightly gripped the fabric of his jacket and pulled him towards the aisle of the bleachers. “Come on,” she said, “caffeinated chocolately goodness awaits us.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming, hold your horses,” Clark said. He laughed a little, and this time the sound was easy, not painful to his ears.
“Such a slow poke.”
“Am not.”
Chloe laughed as well as they headed down the stairs of the bleachers. Clark focused on that sound. Their feet were loud on the metal. He focused on that too.
He didn’t look over his shoulder at the field again.
notes: for lilbreck's Eclecticathon Season 1.
Above his head the sky was a deep blue color, pure and unmarred by even a single cloud. Below him the field was a bright green. But Clark wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings: he was lost in his thoughts. No one was around and he was alone, at least for the moment.
The moment ended, although he missed it.
“Quarter for your thoughts?”
The sudden intrusion of a voice made her startle. His body froze before relaxing again as he glanced up, finding Chloe standing on the bleachers next to where he was currently sitting. Her messenger bag was slung over her shoulder. In her right hand was a quarter.
“I thought it was a penny?”
“Inflation,” she said, a sad tone in her voice. “The cost of everything goes up, including the cost for thoughts.”
“Oh.”
Chloe sat, carefully lowering her body to the slightly creaky metal of the bleachers. From her, Clark took the quarter, turning it around in his fingers. The metal was smooth, shiny and new. It wasn’t dulled yet by the passage of time, by numerous hands handling it until it was taken out of circulation.
“Really, Clark, what’s on your mind? You didn’t even hear me come up the bleachers, and boots on metal isn’t exactly subtle.”
He shrugged. “I was thinking, I guess.”
“You guess? You were like a million miles away, like your head was in outer space. I was worried that I was going to have to climb into a spaceship to get you to come back down to earth.”
The mention of outer space made him laugh uncomfortably. He remembered when outer space used to fascinate him endlessly. Now outer space made him nervous, any talk of it a reminder of what he was. Or, more importantly, what Clark Kent wasn’t.
Human, that is. He wasn’t human and he still hadn’t adjusted to that fact. Each day he would check in the mirror to make sure his skin hadn’t turned green or gray or any of the colors traditionally associated with aliens. Chloe would know all the colors aliens had been, but Clark wasn’t about to ask.
“Clark?” she said, and he realized he had been quiet for too long. Quiet and alarming her, Clark figured.
Prolonged silences generally alarmed Chloe. They especially alarmed her if she had asked a question and wanted an answer.
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
Something in his tone made her face shift slightly. He couldn’t name the look that came over her face, just saw it for a fleeting second. Then it was gone, but the air had charged it seemed. The topic of what he had been thinking about was left behind, abandoned because Chloe apparently didn’t feel like pressing at this moment.
For that Clark was grateful. It reminded him that Chloe might have been a reporter, but she was his friend first.
“You did have an eventful week,” Chloe said, accepting his excuse of just being tired and therefore distracted as a result. She added, “Especially given that it involved saving me from certain death by our very own firestarter.”
It was also the week when he had gotten, then lost, football. Clark didn’t mention that, the pain from that lost not yet numbed. Instead he said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Which, of course, was true. He was glad Chloe was all right, even if he did worry that next time he could be too late to save her. He didn’t raise the subject of her investigating dangerous leads because she was Chloe the Reporter after all. Investigate was what she did and he could only hope he was around in case another meteor freak decided to do away with her instead of having her publish a story they didn’t like.
“All thanks to you,” Chloe said. Her voice had a touch of awe in it, and Clark wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. “I did say thank you, right?”
“You did.”
“Well, I feel the need to thank you again. What you did…you saved my life and risked yours.”
“It’s what friends do.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have been a crispy critter.”
He shifted in his seat, knowing he wasn’t quite the hero she was making him out to be. Fire couldn’t hurt him. Only green meteor rocks could hurt him, which made it easy for him to run into the fire to save her. He supposed, though, that even if he didn’t have powers, his actions would have been similar. Friends don’t let friends die, not if they can help it.
“I’m just glad I was around,” he said. “I like my Chloe Sullivan to be of the non-crispy critter variety.”
“So does she,” Chloe said. She smiled, and it was her usual bright smile that generally caused him to smile. Her face lit her when she smiled like this, the smile wide and stretching across her lips.
Clark reached out and ruffled her hair. Chloe slapped him lightly, threatening to hurt him if he touched her hair again. She was still smiling and Clark felt a slow smile spread across his face. He felt normal at this moment, like he was just a teenager hanging out with one of his best friends. For a moment the fears of being an alien, the pain of knowing he couldn’t play football, and the worry that one day he might not be able to save one of his friends slipped away.
“Wanna go get mochas? My treat for you saving my life?”
“Your treat?”
“I’ll even throw in chocolate chip cookies.”
“You’re going to be so hyper,” Clark said. The fears and the pain and the worries were back, but they were a part of his life. He just had to deal and move on and apparently this meant going to the coffee shop with his best friend to get hyped up on caffeine and sugar.
Chloe nodded her head, her smile still on her face. “It’ll be fun.”
It probably would be, he thought. So he said, “Let’s go then.”
“Yay!” Chloe clapped.
As he stood, he glanced towards the football field. The field was empty, but he could imagine players on it, could imagine the bleachers filled with cheering students.
Chloe touched his arm. He looked at her.
“Are you going to try out for the team again?” she asked. Her voice was gentle, not the usually probing tone that it sometimes held.
Clark shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
He expected Chloe to question him, but she didn’t. She let the topic drop without another word, just like she had earlier. With her hand still on his shoulder, she lightly gripped the fabric of his jacket and pulled him towards the aisle of the bleachers. “Come on,” she said, “caffeinated chocolately goodness awaits us.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming, hold your horses,” Clark said. He laughed a little, and this time the sound was easy, not painful to his ears.
“Such a slow poke.”
“Am not.”
Chloe laughed as well as they headed down the stairs of the bleachers. Clark focused on that sound. Their feet were loud on the metal. He focused on that too.
He didn’t look over his shoulder at the field again.