Chlark Fic: Daisychain, Part 1
Yoo-hoo!
Some cute Chlark fluff for y’all. A pleasant break from Smutsville. I had to split it into two parts, because LJ is being mean to me and not letting me post it all as one document.
Enjoy! J
ETA 08.10.12: Check out the amazing banner chleansmile made for me! Isn't it just the most adorable thing ever?!? Thank you so much, Sunny! *tacklehugs* :-D
Title: Daisychain
Author: BabyDee
Pairing: Chlark, Oneshot
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Timeline: Wee!Chlark
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CW & DC comics.
Summary: What’s a 6-year-old boy to do when confronted with a surly girl?
Feedback: …always welcome. J
Author’s Note: Since the crack monkeys in the SV writing room were kind enough to give us multiple choice options regarding when Chloe’s mother disappeared, I decided to go with “…she left when I was five…” from Lineage.
It wasn’t often that his Mom brought him to the big city, but Clark was always happy and excited when she did. He held her hand and trotted along beside her as she made her way towards the big building that was Metropolis City Hall.
As they made their way into the building, his Mom sat him down on a chair close to a security officer and crouched down to his level.
“I won’t be long. You wait here for me, okay?” she asked with a bright smile.
“Okay,” he grinned.
She smiled and ruffled his hair and then stood and went to talk to a lady at a nearby desk. The lady said some things and then turned and pointed down a corridor. Clark saw his Mom turn and look down the corridor, and then let out a huge sigh.
He frowned. He didn’t like it when Mom wasn’t happy.
She walked back to him and took his hand. “Come on, sweetie.”
He jumped off the chair. “Are we going home already, Mommy?” he asked, disappointed.
“Oh no, honey. But the queue in there is really, really long, and you’ll be bored sitting here by yourself.” They walked out into the bright sunshine and stood on the sidewalk, and he saw his Mom looking around intently.
“Tell you what,” said Mom, “how about you wait for me in the park over there? There are other little kids for you to play with.”
“Um…okay,” he agreed. He didn’t make new friends easily, but maybe the others might let him join in on a game or two.
***
Martha Kent walked her little boy across the road and opened the little wrought iron fence that housed the small park where a fair number of people were sitting on park benches having an early lunch, and several young children were running around playing.
“I’ll be able to see you from that window, so just wave if you need me, okay?” she asked.
“Okay,” he nodded.
“Oh, and here-” she fished a candy bar out of her purse. “This always comes in handy if you need to make friends.”
He grinned widely and took it from her, his green eyes bright and happy. “Thank you, Mommy.”
She looked at him sternly. “Now, be careful, okay, Clark?” she said. “No running too fast, no lifting up heavy things.”
“I’ll be good,” he promised solemnly.
She smiled and kissed the top of his head. “Good. I’ll see you soon.”
She made her way back across the road and into the building to join the inhumanly long queue, keeping her eyes trained on the window at all times.
***
Clark stood at the entrance of the park, scratching his head. Now that he was here, he wasn’t sure what he really wanted to do.
All the other kids were already playing games, and he knew that once you started a game, you couldn’t join in until the next round. So he decided to wait until they were finished.
He fished out his candy bar and broke a few squares off, munching on the chocolate intently. It would be nice if he had someone to talk to while he waited, he thought.
He looked around again, and then something shiny and yellow caught his eye. It was a girl, but she wasn’t wearing girly clothes. She was wearing jeans and boots and a purple shirt, and her bright yellow hair was short like a boy’s, but she wasn’t a boy. He could tell she wasn’t a boy even though she was sitting on the grass with her back to him.
Hmmm. Maybe she was waiting for the game to end so she could join in, too. They could keep each other company, then.
He slowly walked over to where she was sitting and stood in front of her.
“Hi,” he said.
The girl lifted her head up and looked at him. She looked about his age. She was pretty, even with her short hair, and she had large, greenish-brown eyes. But she didn’t look happy. In fact, she’d been crying, he realised. She was holding a piece of tissue that he bet she’d been using to clean her face, and her little nose was red as if she’d been blowing it.
“I have candy. Would you like some?” he offered with a smile, hoping to get her to smile back.
She didn’t. And she didn’t talk to him either. She looked away from him and turned her attention back to the flowers in her lap.
He felt slighted, but he didn’t give up. “What’s your name?” he asked politely.
“I’m not allowed to talk to strangers,” she mumbled sullenly.
He frowned. Strangers were creepy grown-ups with shifty faces. “I’m not a stranger,” he said indignantly. “I’m a kid.”
“Yeah, well, you’re a strange kid,” she shot back smartly.
He gulped. How did she know that? He hadn’t done anything weird in front of her. He’d better leave before she called the people in white coats to take him away.
“Sorry,” he murmured, backing away from her.
“Wait!” she called after him. He stopped and looked at her.
She looked up at him, shading her eyes from the sun. “I’m sorry,” she said apologetically. “That was a mean thing to say.”
He let out a breath. “That’s okay,” he said, relieved.
“Do you wanna sit down?” she offered.
He grinned. “Yes, thank you,” he responded, and sank down to the grass next to her.
She smiled back at him, and he could see that she was a whole lot prettier that he originally thought. Her eyes sparkled, and her hair shimmered in the sunshine.
But even though she was smiling now, she still looked sad. He had to fix that, he thought. Maybe she’d like some candy. Candy always made him happy.
“Here,” he said, offering her his candy bar. “It’s a bit melty, but you can have three squares.”
“Thank you,” she replied, breaking off some chocolate. “I like it better when it’s melted, anyway.”
“Me too,” he said, smiling as they bit into the candy.
“So, do you live near here?” she asked, talking round a mouthful of candy.
Clark swallowed his mouthful first, because his Mom would tell him off if he spoke with food in his mouth. “No I live outta town. I came here with my Mom. She just went into that building over there.” He pointed to City Hall.
“That’s Metropolis City Hall,” she said informatively. “I live here in Metropolis, and when I grow up I’m gonna work in that building there.” She pointed a chocolaty finger in the direction of a tall building further down the road that had a spinning golden globe on top.
“It’s a nice building,” he said. “What do they do there?”
“They write stories and put them in the papers,” she said, her face lighting up. “I write stories, too. I even took some of my stories over there, but they wouldn’t put them in the paper. They said I should come back when I get a bit bigger and I know more words.” She scowled. “I know tons of words, and I’m only six. How old are you?”
He told her he was six too, and she chatted on and on about the newspaper place where she wanted to work when she grew up, and the 'Pull-it' Surprises she would win for all her stories. He sat munching quietly, just listening to her talk. He liked her voice; she talked really fast, and sounded really happy, and it made him feel happy, too.
It was only when they’d finished their chocolate that Clark realised he didn’t have a napkin. He glanced around furtively, wondering if he could wipe his hands on his jeans without her noticing.
She must have noticed, though, because she reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue. “Here you go,” she said brightly.
“Thank you,” he said gratefully, cleaning his hands. He remembered that she had some tissues earlier, when she’d been upset.
“Were you crying before?” he asked curiously.
She shrugged, then nodded.
“Why?”
“Because my Dad cut my hair,” she said quietly. “It was really long and pretty, but he didn’t know how to brush it properly.”
“Didn’t your Mommy brush it for you?” he asked, surprised.
Her pretty face fell, and she looked sad all over again. “Mommy doesn’t live with us anymore,” she said. “She used to brush my hair really nice, but then she left us. Daddy did his best, but my hair was always a mess. So he took me to the hairdressers, and they cut it all off, and now I look like a boy.”
Clark shook his head vehemently. “You don’t look like a boy,” he insisted. “You look really pretty. I knew you were a girl from behind, really I did.”
She glared at his head. “Even your hair’s longer than mine!” she said sulkily. “And you are a boy!”
“Uh…yeah,” he began, thinking fast. “But it doesn’t make me pretty, does it?”
She tilted her head and studied him. “It kinda does,” she said at last.
He scowled. “My hair may be a bit longer than yours, but it doesn’t make me look like a girl,” he said stubbornly.
“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed with a sigh.
“See?” he said triumphantly, the wheels in his head really turning. “And even though your hair’s shorter than mine, it doesn’t make you look like a boy.”
“Really?” she said, her eyes sparkling again as she smiled in wonder.
He grinned back, pleased to have made her smile. “Really. You look like a…” he scrunched up his face, thinking of the right word. “A pixie.”
“A pixie?!?” she yelled furiously.
Oops. This girl didn’t like pixies. And he was doing so well…
***
Part 2...