smallville fic: lazy hazy summer days (1/2)

Feb 09, 2008 11:26

Details what happened the summer between high school graduation and freshman year at college. Chloe, Clark, friendship, off-screen Clana. PG.


+++

The mirror revealed a rather frightening image, namely herself dressed in what could be considered the ugliest uniform known to mankind. Even aliens would concur that this uniform was hideous.

The shirt was tomato red, a color that did little for her complexion. There was a pocket on the right side, a pin with a cartoon character attached to said pocket. Black cuffed pants, size small but still baggy, just like the shirt. On her feet were black running shoes, sensible shoes for being on her feet for an eight-hour shift.

Completing the ensemble was a black visor. It held her almost shoulder-length blonde hair off her face, but had no other benefits. A headband would have served the same function and would have at least been flattering to her features. But no, she had to wear a visor, which was only a step above having to wear one of the horrible baseball caps the uniform also came with. A yellow happy smile pin adorned the black rim, smiling happily at her.

The uniform, though, wasn't the worst aspect of being forced to work in a menial labor job. The smell was the worst thing about working in the fast food industry. The disgusting odor of greasy food clung to the uniform despite repeated washings with spring-scented laundry soap. The expensive laundry soap she had to pay for did little to remove the grease embedded in the cotton fibers. The floral-scented dryer sheets did little to cover the smell.

Chloe had repeatedly complained about the uniform. Her father had little sympathy. As he had told her on several occasions, "My Burger King uniform was made from polyester. It was awful in the summer months. Sweat and polyester don't mix." His voice always got all solemn at the end. She usually had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

The yellow M stitched on the shirt pocket smirked at her as Chloe looked herself over once more in the mirror, tucking her shirt in a little more fully at the back. With a sigh at the sight she presented, Chloe abandoned the free-standing, full-length mirror. She grabbed her car keys and her blue bag from their spots on her unmade bed and walked out of her bedroom. Her shift started in twenty minutes and it was a twenty minute drive to the McDonalds she worked at, out on Route 55.

+++

At two in the afternoon McDonalds was quiet. The lunch rush was over and the afternoon snack rush had yet to begin. There was a slow but steady trickle of customers, but rarely any line-ups.

Chloe was restocking the toys beneath the front counter when someone's foot nudged in her the back. She scooted back and looked up to the owner of the foot.

"Those are your friends, right?" Trevor said, lifting in his chin to point towards the front doors.

She craned her neck, muscles stretched taut. At the double doors were Clark and Lana, the door just beginning to close behind Clark. Lana was maybe two steps ahead of Clark; he must have held the door for Lana.

“Yeah, those are my friends.”

Trevor shrugged, teenage gesture for whatever. He disappeared towards the back, leaving her alone behind the front counter. She stood, tingles racing up her right leg, the vaguely uncomfortable sensation of blood rushing downwards.

Service with a smile, Chloe thought as she smiled brightly. “Hey guys,” she greeted as the couple approached the front counter. “What can I get for you today?”

“Two small vanilla cones,” Clark said. It figured he and Lana would get vanilla.

Chloe punched the order into the till.

“Been busy today?” Lana asked as Clark pushed Chloe a five dollar bill.

“No more than usual.” She took the bill, punched in the amount, and counted out Clark’s change.

“You’re still coming to the concert tonight, right?” Lana added eagerly.

The concert wasn’t a real concert. It was free outdoor music the town called a concert to attract teenagers. There was a faux concert every other Saturday night from the last two weeks of June to the last weekend of August.

“Yeah, I’m going,” Chloe said. She turned and headed towards the ice cream machine. The machine was closer to the drive-thru window, hidden largely from view from where Clark and Lana were standing. It wasn’t real ice cream but frozen yogurt and the stuff was already beginning to melt by the time she returned to the front counter, presenting Clark and Lana with their frozen treats.

There was a customer behind Clark and Lana, and Trevor was still gone. Clark and Lana would feel compelled to leave now that they had their cones. And they did leave, but not before Lana reminded Chloe to be at the Talon for seven.

“I’ll be there,” Chloe said. She made sure to say it cheerfully, like she wasn’t at all annoyed about being reminded what time they had agreed to meet up at. She wasn’t the one chronically late.

She would have watched Clark and Lana retreat from the restaurant, their bodies close but not quite touching, but she had a customer and the middle-aged woman with her two young children was in a hurry.

+++

The outdoor concerts, as they were called by others excluding Chloe herself, were held in Smallville Park. The park was located at the end of Main Street and spread over several acres of land. The park had been a local fixture since the early 1900s, which was why it hadn’t been bulldozed to make room for building developments.

The park had an old stage near its entrance off of Main Street. The stage was built into a podium-like structure and half of the stage covered by a short roof. The structure was wooden and weather-worn, perhaps once painted. The paint had faded a long time ago, making it virtually impossible to be sure that the thing had once been painted. But whether the thing had or had not been painted mattered little now. The town could have repainted but apparently citizens liked the rustic appearance, or so Lana had told her once. Chloe couldn’t see the appeal of this so-called rustic look, but obviously a large number of people did.

There were several trees in the area and those were the spots taken first. By the time the three of them had arrived, the trees were already occupied. Clark had been, as expected, late, and they had arrived minutes before the first band was scheduled to begin.

Some intelligent people had brought lawn chairs. Lana had brought a red and white striped blanket. The blanket would protect them from the grass, which was still bright green and liable to stain clothing this early in the season. The blanket wouldn’t make sitting for a long period of time upright and still more comfortable. Beggars couldn’t be choosers though. It wasn’t like Chloe had thought to bring either a lawn chair or a blanket. The blanket was large, though, and neither Lana nor Clark minded sharing. It was an unspoken assumption that she would sit with them on this gaudy red blanket.

They sat and waited for the band to start, talking quietly amongst themselves. The first band started maybe five minutes late, which wasn’t bad at all. Last year, the first band had started twenty minutes late, the result of technical difficulties.

The minutes passed as band started to play. Most of the bands that played at these events were amateur groups composed mostly of teenagers and a few young adults in their early twenties. Most had mediocre talent at best. Some played just covers, while others had a mixture of covers and originals. Only the gutsiest of bands ever played an entire four-song set of entirely original songs.

“Oh, look at them,” Chloe muttered to Lana, who was closest to her. Lana and Clark were on one half of the blanket, Chloe occupying the other half.

“Be nice,” Lana chided but she was smiling.

The band setting up on the stage deserved to be mocked. The band was composed of four girls, two blondes, a brunettes and a redhead. All had long straight hair which, combined with their heavy black eye makeup, made them look like they were attempting to imitate Avril Lavigne.

Their clothing, though, didn’t quite match the hair and makeup. They were dressed in denim miniskirts and polo shirts in sunny summer colors. The blondes were in lilac and rose while the brunette was in butter yellow while the redhead wore cornflower blue. To complete the preppy look, three of the girls wore flip flops while the redhead had white sneakers on.

But, to further the punk look, each girl wore striped fingerless gloves. The gloves didn’t match their shirts and were dark in color. In short, the band appeared to be undecided whether they wanted to be punk or prep.

Each girl had an instrument and ten minutes after they started setting up, they were beginning to play those instruments and started to sing. Twenty minutes later the painful singing by the prep-punks was over. The four girls hadn't been as bad as the three teen guys who desperately wanted to be small-town rockers.

The next band consisted of four individuals. Not teenagers because these four wouldn't hit those wonderful teen years for at least another year. The three boys and one girl looked to be in the range of ten to twelve. They were all short and baby-faced, seemingly out of place here. The crowd consisted mainly of teenagers. There was a sizeable minority of people in their early- to mid-twenties. A couple of little children were playing on the grass. Overwhelmingly, though, this was a concert directed at teenagers, with most of the talent being students from Smallville High or recent graduates of the high school.

The girl took the spot before the microphone, indicating that she was the singer of the group. She was the tallest kid in the band, which wasn't saying much. Unlike the girls in the other band, she was dressed in loose-fitting brown capris and a pale green shirt with white flowers on it. Her cohorts were dressed similarly, in brown cargos and darker green shirts.

Chloe shifted on the blanket as the band finished setting up. Her back was beginning to ache from sitting upright with no back support. Her lower back in particular was protesting the position. She moved her arms back, letting her spine arch a bit to release some of the tension. It helped a little.

The band started to play their instruments-the girl and two boys had a guitar while the remaining boy had a portable keyboard. Chloe tried to ignore the aches setting into her back, attempting to use the music as a focus, and this worked during the first song. The first song was harmless and light-heartened, about wanting summer to never end.

But then the second song started. The girl started singing about love lost and it was utterly ridiculous. She doubted the girl had even ever been kissed.

"I'm going to the bathroom," she whispered to Lana, leaning over to speak the words near Lana's ear. The music was loud and whispers could easily be lost to the air.

"Do you-" Lana started.

Chloe shook her head. "No, I can go by myself."

Lana nodded, the movement rubbing her head against Clark's shoulder. Clark glanced over at them and Chloe mouthed 'bathroom' at him. Clark nodded, echoing Lana.

Chloe rose and slipped away. There were washroom facilities in the park, but Chloe preferred to avoid those washrooms. She had her purse and there was a coffee shop a block away from the park. She could get a caffeine-fix while obtaining a good excuse for being good for fifteen minutes.

Although she was a loyal Talon customer, Coffee Bean was closer to the park. The cafe was quiet when she entered. She ordered right away. As the barista made the frozen drink, Chloe ducked into the bathroom. When she emerged from the bathroom, her mocha frappuccino was waiting for her. She grabbed the drink and walked back out into the summer evening sunshine.

She walked slowly back to the park, dawdling. Before long, though, she was back in the park. Clark and Lana came into view and the couple had moved even slower during the time she had been gone. Lana's head rested on Clark's shoulder. As Chloe watched, Lana tilted her chin and Clark pressed a light kiss to Lana's lips.

Lana and Clark were sickeningly sweet. Their kisses were chaste, their relationship straight from the Disney channel-approved guide to romance for public viewership.

She had been smiling, the result of chocolate and caffeine rushing through her system. A crack in her smile appeared as she stood a short distance from the red and white striped blanket. Instead she stood, feeling like an interloper despite being in a public park. It felt like she was spying. It was a private moment she was witnessing, albeit one occurring in a public place. But there was still something wrong about watching Clark and Lana, even something wrong about Clark and Lana because they were seemingly too in love, seemingly too perfect.

After all, it seemed like yesterday that Lana was demanding the truth from Clark. Clark had never confided in Lana and yet it seemed to matter not anymore.

The song the new band was playing ended. She saw Clark's arm move down Lana's arm, pulling Lana ever closer. Lana seemed to burrow her head more into Clark's chest and that was the moment when Clark raised his head and his eyes meet hers.

By then, though, Chloe was already in motion, her face set once more. No cracks evident, just polished veneer. She offered Clark a jaunty wave as she neared the blanket.

"Sorry, I decided I needed caffeine," she said as she sat, making sure that her tone was apologetic.

Lana laughed while Clark smiled brightly and said, "I'm not surprised."

Chloe took a long sip of her drink. A new song started and took away the requirement that she say anything. Clark and Lana's eyes went to the podium.

Chloe looked straight-forward too, only her eyes were watching a tree in the distance and not the band.

+++

Sometimes, usually after a night with Clark and Lana, Chloe had to marvel at how in love the couple seemed to be. But her marvels often centered on her wondering just how genuine the displays of affection she witnessed between Clark and Lana were. How many lies were between Clark and Lana? Too many to count and the existence of those lies made Chloe wonder how they could be so in love when all the secrets were still present.

She didn't voice any of her ponderings. Clark was happy, one of those shiny happy people. At the outdoor concert last week, he had been smiling and light-hearted and so obviously happy. Chloe hadn't seen him that happy in such a long time, since maybe their first year of high school. How could she, then, question his relationship with Lana, the relationship that gave him so much obvious happiness?

Chloe just couldn't. Couldn't poke holes in Clark's relationship with Lana because that would merely hurt Clark and would accomplish nothing. Would do nothing but make Clark turn from her.

Instead Chloe vocally questioned Clark on giving up his powers. She couldn't understand how Clark and Lana could just seemingly move past the lies and she couldn't comprehend how Clark could go from one day being superpowered and the next day to being just an ordinary human. She couldn't understand how he could be so content with that alteration, that reversal of all Clark had ever known.

Clark had the ability to help so many people. He should have fought that stupid voice.

But even if the change was permanent, Clark could have still contributed to helping the world. He chose to live in la-la-land, preferring to pretend Smallville was just a normal town and he was just a normal eighteen-year old male.

Smallville's history hadn't reversed itself. There were still meteor rocks littering the town, even more now because of the second meteor shower, and no superpowered good guy to lend the cops and doctors a helping hand. Clark seemed satisfied with just ignoring the effect meteor rocks had on individuals. Chloe, on the other hand, kept her eyes and ears opened and prayed to a god she didn't believe in that no meteor freaks would become homicidal.

This was Smallville, however, and her prays weren't answered.

The first week of July Charles Weedle attempted to kill his girlfriend. Luckily for his girlfriend, his meteor power was a green thumb, a literally. His thumb was a pale green color. The roses Weedle grew were prize-winning. His meteor powers didn't help him in his attempt to murder his girlfriend, but his flower-growing hobby did provide him with the tools to attempt this murder.

Charles Weedle was a meteor freak but he wasn't unstoppable. His girlfriend kicked Weedle in the groin and the police arrested him ten minutes later. Chloe added Weedle to the digital wall of weird and told Clark they should be cautious.

Clark just looked at her for a long moment. Then he shrugged his shoulders and said, "Leave that stuff to the police. It's their job, not ours."

She didn't rein in her activities. It wasn't like she could hide from the truth. Clark could, she supposed, but she couldn't just walk away, not when she knew the danger those affected by meteor rocks could pose. If she could assist then she would.

That was how she ended up in the hospital emergency room, her tank top torn and her side bleeding from a knife nick. Haley Flora could stretch in decidedly unnatural ways. But the kids at the daycare weren't hurt and her side only required seven stitches. Flora had a one-way ticket to Belle Reeve. No one died, Chloe was sure she'd only have a small scar, and the police had a new story to amuse themselves with.

While she was fine with how the situation ended, Clark and Lana were not. They expressed their displeasure when they came to drive her home from the hospital. A police officer had dropped her off at the hospital; her father was out-of-town again. Lois was in Europe. There was no one to call but Clark. And Clark and Lana were a package deal, so by calling Clark, Chloe had been calling Lana too.

Clark was the first to speak. “You need to stop.”

Lana was blunter. “Do you have a death wish?” she demanded, her voice rising near the end, right around the word death.

This time it was Chloe who shrugged. “I’m fine,” she added a minute later, when all her shrugging earned her was two twin glares.

Lana’s face twisted and for a second Chloe thought Lana would just explode. But Lana didn’t. Instead Lana turned around and walked away, her body held stiff. Chloe let her eyes drift to the off-white colored floor. She could see Clark’s shoes. He stood across from where she was seated in a hard-backed chair for thirty seconds before he followed Lana in her retreat from the hospital waiting room.

Chloe stood slowly and walked the path Lana and then Clark had taken. She still needed a ride, after all. She caught up with Clark at the non-ER door. He had been waiting for her. They didn’t speak as she followed Clark out into the bright afternoon sunlight.

Lana was in her SUV, keys in the engine but not turned. Clark climbed into the front passenger’s seat. Chloe took the seat behind Clark. No one said anything as Lana peeled out of the parking lot. They never discussed the incident afterwards either.

A day after her trip to the hospital, Clark told her to be more careful in the future, relenting on his earlier stance.

Chloe made sure to keep her meteor-related activities quieter after that.

+++

When she wasn’t hanging out with Lana and Clark, Chloe could often be found either at her computer in her bedroom or at McDonalds, working her butt off.

Her first two weeks had been spent working the lobby. The person working the lobby was responsible for keeping the restaurant clean. That meant she had the fun duties of clearing tables and emptying the garbage and refilling the condiments when items got low. It wasn't a difficult job by any means-the one job a person could do at McDonalds without any training. It wasn't a pleasant job however. Being in charge of garbage was a disgusting job she wouldn't have wished upon her worst enemy.

Well, she might have given the job to one of the meteor freaks who had tried to kill her during high school, but murderous freaks deserved disgusting jobs.

But her days in lobby were over. It was the third week of July and she had progressed to the point where she was working the front counter.

When her time in lobby had first ended nearly a month ago, she had been trained to do work on the assembly line, which meant working in the back preparing the food. She spent a day in Metropolis, in fact, being certified to do food preparation. Once certified, she had been given a little booklet and told to memorize how to prepare all the burgers McDonalds made. There were a lot of burgers and there were strict guidelines for each burger. The order of toppings was predetermined and there were even times listed, detailing exactly how long it should take to put together each burger.

The organization of McDonalds was beyond terrifying.

Cooking and preparing the food hadn't been much of an improvement from lobby. There were people to converse with, true, but making burgers was a repetitive and monotonous job. Once she had gotten the rules for each burger down and once she had gotten proficient at making each burger, there was nothing difficult about doing the cooking. Preparing burgers became second-nature, as sad as that was, and Chloe could sprout off how to make each burger instantly. That ability amused Clark and scared Lana.

However, doing cooking meant working right up and personal with the food. Chloe hadn't been a huge fan of McDonalds before she took this job and, after having to make the food, her like of the food had decreased even more. She had taken to bringing her own food to work, sick and tired of half-price McDonalds fare.

Billy, the first assistant manager, was the classic endomorph, both in size and temperament. He was a round, slightly overweight guy of twenty-three. He had dirty blonde hair and cheeks that tended to go scarlet. He was easy-going, laughed readily, and loved food. He couldn't have been more of a stereotype if he tried. Chloe honestly liked Billy, even if his love of McDonalds was a bit extreme. He was a nice guy and he had gotten her out of cooking in the back. All it had taken was her mentioning causally how much she wanted to learn to use the tills and, viola, she was out of the back and working the front counter.

Still, the job sucked. The pay was bad and the hours were even worse. And she didn't even eat the food, so her discount meant little. Clark often stopped by during her shift, right when her break was, and she would get him food at half-price, so her discount wasn't totally wasted. But providing Clark with cheap food he could stuff in his mouth while she watched and tried not to gag wasn't enough to make her like working in a job that left her tired, achy, and sweaty. And, as if those things weren't bad enough, she usually was hit by massive headaches halfway through her shift.

Chloe had no choice but to suck it up. She needed a summer job. She needed money for college in the fall and for spending money now. She had an eight-twenty split going on-eighty percent of what she earned went towards her college fund while the remaining twenty percent was hers to spend as she pleased. That twenty percent didn't amount to much, but it was still enough money to buy her a few on-sale items of clothing. It also kept her supplied with mocha frappuccinos and kept her cell phone and Internet service active.

It was nothing like interning at the Planet, but, at the very least, she was gaining work experience. Everyone always said McDonalds gave some of the best work experience. She hoped they hadn't been lying.

The job did give her something to do. If she hadn’t been working, she would have just been spending her days watching TV and reading mindless novels. She did that enough on her days off as it was.

And, although this was the worst reason to take a job, working also gave her an excuse to escape spending every day with Clark and Lana. She loved her friends but sometimes she got tired of them. Sometimes she wished she had a larger social circle. She had contacts and casual acquaintances, but they weren’t her best friends who loved her through the thick and thin. They just weren’t Clark and Lana, and that something made the difference.

So she either worked, putting money towards her college fund, or she spent time alone, or she spent time with Clark and Lana. She might have been in a runt but it was summer and soon she’d be off to university.

Until then, she’d continue to live her life the way it was. Once university rolled around, she would try to change.

+++

Near the back of the Talon Chloe was curled up in an overstuffed armchair. She was dressed for the hot summer heat in a knee-length flouncy skirt with blue flowers and a white, lace-edged tank top. Inside the air-conditioned coffee shop, she was deliciously cool. She was sitting with her legs beneath her body, her skirt loose enough to keep her decent. She was far enough away from the other few Talon patrons that no one seemed to care she was sitting in a manner not exactly dignified. But she was comfortable and that was what she cared about, not what other people thought.

On the side table next to the armchair she was sitting in was her mocha frappuccino, whipped cream stirred in. She was leisurely drinking her frappuccino, making it last. She had the day off and time to waste. She was enjoying her free time by making her drink last as humanly possible as she read from a biography on the Watergate scandal.

Her peace and quiet was disturbed by Clark, who came and plopped himself down in the armchair across from hers. Chloe had spotted him heading her way from the corner of her eye, but she didn't acknowledge him when he sat down. She pretended to be reading, her concentration shattered by Clark's arrival.

Clark cleared his throat. Although she wasn't looking at him, Chloe could hear him fidgeting in his chair, fingers and feet in continual motion. Sometimes it seemed like Clark couldn't stay still. At other times, though, when he was tired from a long day of physical labor, he was still. But today was apparently a good day, in terms of Clark's human aches and pains, and so he was unable to remain still, especially since she was ignoring him.

She sighed softly and shut her book, shoving the book to one side. She lifted her eyes and smiled brightly. "What's up Clark?"

"Not much," he said, continuing to shift in the chair. Not large movements, small little alterations. Clark was the proverbial child who just couldn't sit still.

"Where's Lana?" It wasn't really interested in the answer-she had seen too much of Clark and Lana together this summer so far. But it was the polite question to ask, the question Clark would expect, and a normal question because Clark and Lana had been practically inseparable all summer.

Clark shifted once more before settling down, finally. "She's visiting her aunt Nell."

Chloe nodded; she understood where this was going. "And since your girlfriend is AWOL, you've come looking for me," she teased, wondering if her tone was teasing enough.

She didn't want to sound bitter. She wasn't bitter, not really. She wasn't annoyed at how Clark seemed to forget he had a best friend unless Lana was somewhere else or Lana reminded him about the existence of the best friend by inviting Chloe to tag along.

If she did sometimes get frustrated, that was perfectly all right. Not her fault at all, because even saints would get fed up with Clark. She tried to hide her annoyance, though, aware that Clark was still adjusting to life being human. And, for Clark, being human meant finally having a chance to be with Lana, to be really with Lana.

Chloe also got that Clark probably preferred to spend time with Lana because Lana knew nothing about Clark's former existence as an alien. Lana only knew human Clark while Chloe knew of Clark's alien parentage. And Chloe couldn't help but remind Clark verbally of the things he had been able to do with his superpowers. Sometimes she tried to curb the impulse because she didn't want to strain her friendship with Clark. But still the comparions emerged from her mouth, not always intentional, yet out in the open and impossible to take back.

Sometimes she wished she could just forget about knowing Clark was ever part of the superpowered persuasion. It would have made her friendship with Clark easier. It would have made her heart hurt a little bit less. She had seen him go from a hero to an ordinary guy who didn't have a care in the world, and she hated knowing this.

"I figured we could see a film," Clark said, interrupting Chloe's musings. He misinterpreted her somewhat startled look and added, "We can see whatever indie film is playing at the multiplex. I'll even treat you to frozen yogurt."

She didn't like being the backseat friend, the person Clark ran to when he had no one else, but it wasn't like she had anything else to do. Just a book to read. She had spent last night by herself, surfing the Net, and so an afternoon spent in a move theater didn't sound all too shabby.

"Fine, but it better be large frozen yogurts."

Clark's smile was blinding, making Chloe feel like she had done more than just agree to a see a film. "Deal."

She picked up her frappuccino and took a long sip, enjoying the taste of chocolate and caffeine and whip cream sliding down her throat. She dropped her hand clutching her drink to the chair of her seat. "And we can see something we'll both be able to sit through."

"Even better."

They ended up seeing Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Clark brought the two of them large chocolate-flavored frozen yogurt. After the film, they stopped by Pike’s Diner, because Chloe refused to go to McDonalds on her day off. She treated them to chocolate milkshakes and a shared plate of french fries. And in the evening, while they lounged in front of the TV in her apartment watching bad 80s' movies, she refrained from laughing at Clark, who felt sick after eating the pizza her father had ordered them for dinner. The greasy pizza, combined with the milkshake and fries and frozen yogurt of earlier, left Clark was one hell of a stomach ache. And Chloe, being the good friend, offered Clark a remedy.

"It's pink," Clark pointed out, staring uncertainly at the bottle Chloe held in her hand.

"It's Pepto-Bismol," she said patiently. "It's supposed to be pink. It'll help, honest."

"I don't know."

Chloe ignored Clark's feeble protests and headed to the kitchen. She grabbed a spoon and poured out a mouthful. She returned to where Clark was, still standing outside the apartment's main bathroom. He was sideways to the bathroom door and she moved to stand in front of him, close enough to feel Clark's breath on her cheek. She raised the spoon. "Drink it," she said sternly.

Clark opened his mouth and swallowed, grimacing as the stuff went down his throat.

A little while later, he was feeling better and they settled down to a game of Trivia Pursuit Junior. Her choice, of course. She kicked butt on the pop culture and general culture questions, while Clark bested her in the technology and science categories. She emerged triumphant in the end and enjoyed a congratulatory coffee while Clark watched from the sidelines.

All in all, it wasn't a bad way to spend a day off. Lana hadn't come up once. It had been a fun day, but she knew not to expect a reoccurrence any time soon. Days like these were rare.

And the sad fact of the matter was that she cherished these days. They were the days she lived for and there was something just wrong about that.

Unfortunately, it was easier to say she should change than to actually change.

+++

Thanks for reading. Comments are always appreciated.

fic: chloe sullivan, fic: chlark, fic: smallville

Previous post Next post
Up