Chlark Fanfic: The Perfect Gift (a.k.a. Five Times Clark got Chloe a Birthday Pressie) - Chapter 1
Title: The Perfect Gift (a.k.a Five Times Clark got Chloe a Birthday Pressie)
Author: BabyDee
Pairing: Chlark
Rating: NC-17 (eventually; this chapter PG-13)
Warnings: Graphic Sex (later on)
Timeline: Season Five-ish (with flashbacks to earlier seasons)
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CW & DC comics.
Summary: Clark’s birthday present for Chloe wasn’t quite as sweet and innocent as he thought it would be...
Feedback: …I love it. :-)
Read the Prologue here.
Chapter 1
First Pressie:
The Fancy Gel Pens
For Chloe Sullivan’s 15th birthday, Clark Kent decided to get her a pack of fancy gel pens that he was sure she’d love. What writer didn’t love pens?
He sighed wistfully as he paid for his items at the counter. He wished he could have gotten her a Parker pen or something engraved and really fancy, but he just didn’t have that kind of money. However, these were pretty, and he couldn’t wait for her to see them.
***
“Happy 15th, Chloe,” he said with a smile, handing her the wrapped gift.
Chloe tore off the wrapper enthusiastically and grinned. “Ooh, pens! Pretty ones!”
“I thought you’d like them,” he said, smugly. It was the first present he was ever getting her, and he was so pleased to have put that happy smile on her face.
A few hours later, during History Class, Pete passed a folded up message to him. Curiously, he opened it. It was from Chloe.
Hey, Clark - need to know where you got those pens.
- C.
He smiled and wrote on the reverse side of the paper.
Don’t tell me you’ve slathered your notebook with them already, Chlo. *laughs*
Big C.
He passed it back through Pete, and soon enough the same piece of paper made a return journey.
It’s not the notebook that’s slathered with ink. :-(
Lil’ C.
He sighed and found a tiny, clear corner in which to write.
Quit being cryptic. What’s up??
The note went off, and came back. He had to turn it sideways to find the new communication on it.
Wave at me.
Puzzled, Clark turned surreptitiously in the direction of Chloe’s desk, which was three‑across and two‑down from his. He grinned and carefully wiggled his fingers in her direction.
She lifted a hand and waved back.
And his eyes widened. Her hand was covered in garish fluorescent shades of pink, green and yellow ink.
“Oh, my God,” he groaned aloud.
“Are we boring you, Mr Kent?” drawled the unamused teacher from the front of the class.
He gulped and rapidly faced front. “No sir. Not at all, sir,” he stammered as giggles rippled through the class.
The teacher’s eyes narrowed and he glanced in Chloe’s direction, but unlike Clark, who might as well have had a flashing GUILTY!!! Sign plastered across his forehead, Chloe was the picture of innocence. With a look that said he wasn’t fooled, the educator went back to droning on about the industrial revolution.
As soon as his back was turned, Clark scribbled furiously on a piece of paper.
OMG what happened?? And how come there’s no ink on the paper?!?
And it came back with:
My thoughts exactly. Because it’s on everything else, including my butt!!!
He quickly sent it back with:
That definitely wasn’t supposed to happen. We’ll figure this out after school, OK? Not long, now. *hugs* Xxx
Big C.
Sadly that was where their luck ran out. Just as Chloe unfolded the paper and began reading, the teacher boomed triumphantly.
“Miss Sullivan!”
Startled, Chloe’s head snapped up - and this time, she looked as guilty as sin.
The teacher nodded in her direction. “Care to share the contents of that note you’re holding with the rest of the class?”
Clark shrank in his seat. He recalled the contents of the note, and cringed even further. This had disaster written all over it.
Red-faced, Chloe slowly rose to her feet and swallowed hard before replying. “I’d rather not, Mr Weenie.”
“Weiner! My name is Weiner!” he yelled, making the entire class erupt in laughter.
“It’s not much of an improvement,” she mumbled under her breath, causing a fresh wave of sniggering from the desks around her.
Mr Weiner reddened with rage, and extended his hand. “The note, Miss Sullivan.”
Chloe looked at the piece of paper in her hand for a few seconds, then quickly tossed it in her mouth and began to chew furiously.
“Miss Sullivan, that is unacceptable behaviour!” he boomed. “I’m sending you to the Principal’s office. You will leave immediately.”
Chloe squared her shoulders and had taken two steps forward when one of the jocks who sat at the back of the class shouted, “Oh, snap! Check it out!”
Several pairs of eyes - including Clark’s - swung in the direction of Chloe’s rear end, where there were two, perfect handprints on the seat of her combat trousers in brightly patterned hues of hot pink, fluorescent yellow and lime green.
The laughter escalated and, Chloe blushed even redder made a beeline for the door. Just as she reached for the handle, Mr Weiner called out to her.
“Actually, Miss Sullivan…maybe I was a little too harsh in sending you to the Principal’s office,” he said, a vindictive gleam in his eye. “Perhaps your punishment would be better served here, in front of the class.”
Chloe stared at him, horrified. He went on.
“Please stand in the far corner, facing away from your classmates,” he instructed.
“Hey, that’s not fair!” Clark shouted.
“Shut up, Kent!” said one of the jocks. “This is almost better than pay-per-view!”
“Any more interruptions from you, Mr Kent, and you’ll be joining her,” he threatened. He turned back to Chloe. “Where was I? Ah, yes…face the corner please.”
Stiffly, Chloe walked over to the indicated corner and folded her hands behind her back, covering the colourful handprints.
“With your hands on your head, Miss Sullivan,” Mr Weiner said in clipped tones, earning himself raucous applause from the class.
“You can’t make her do that!” Clark yelled, standing up from his seat.
Chloe turned to him and shook her head slightly before facing the wall and putting her hands on her head. Giggles and twitters rippled throughout the class, much to Clark’s dismay.
“I think that punishment’s fitting enough, don’t you?” said Mr Weiner triumphantly. “Now, let’s get on with the topic of the day. I daresay at least half the class will manage to refrain from dozing off, for once.”
Clark seethed as several of his classmates unearthed their cellphones and took pictures of Chloe’s colourful butt. The poor girl stood stoically in the corner, and he wanted to get up and defend her, but she’d indicated that he do nothing, no doubt trying to keep him out of trouble.
The next ten minutes felt like the longest of his life. The second the bell rang, Clark was on his feet and heading towards the corner where Chloe was standing.
“Chloe!” he said, extending his arms to offer her a hug. “Oh my God, Chloe, I’m so sorry - ”
“Don’t touch me,” she said sternly.
Clark flinched, and the rejection stung him badly. At the sight of his stricken face, Chloe quickly said, “I don’t want it all rubbing off on you too, now, do I?”
He sighed in relief. “Thank God. I thought you were really mad at me…”
“Clark, I’m not mad at you at all,” she said as the classroom emptied and they stood there alone.
“I wanted to come to you, but -”
“I didn’t want you ending up in detention or in the Principal’s office,” she said with a small smile as she went to gather up her inky belongings from her desk. “We need to figure this out together, don’t we?”
He smiled at her warmly, and together they left the class and headed for Chloe’s house.
***
“Chloe, we need to hurry if we want to get to the store in time,” Clark said, looking at his watch.
“I know, Clark, I just…” she sighed from behind the door. “Just promise not to laugh, okay?”
“Cross my heart, and hope to die,” he said solemnly.
“I wish you hadn’t said that,” she said grimly. “If I wasn’t me, I’d be laughing at me.”
Slowly she emerged from behind the door, and Clark melted and smiled warmly. She looked cute enough to cuddle.
“Chloe, what on earth were you hiding for? You look cute!” he enthused. “All bright, and colourful…”
“I look like a rainbow threw up on me,” she said glumly, picking at the sides of her multi-coloured sundress. “And these godawful gloves look like something Scarlett O’Hara should be wearing.”
Clark took her tiny, frilly white gloved hand in his. “It’s the only way we can stop the spread of the ink for now,” Clark said regretfully.
She snorted. “Whatever. I draw the line at the stupid bonnet, though. I don’t care how many colours I have in my hair.” She turned and stomped out the door, looking quite silly stomping in a colourful dress with frilly gloves.
***
As soon as they got to the store, one of the security guards smiled sympathetically. “You got the gel pens, huh?” he said as they approached.
“Gee, what clued you in?” Chloe replied sarcastically.
“The rockstar hair,” he said with a smile. “Go straight to the manager’s office, he’ll explain everything to you.”
The went to the office as indicated, and the manager kindly explained what had gone wrong.
“At first we thought it was a design flaw, but it soon became apparent that it was a Halloween prank by some jobless kids,” he said. “They switched the original pens with trick ink ones, and put them back on the shelves. We’ve taken all the tampered packs off the shelves, and we did issue a recall, but you know how these things are.”
“Story of my life,” Chloe muttered darkly.
“How do we stop the spread of the ink?” Clark asked. “It just gets on everything.”
The manager unearthed a small bottle with some clear liquid in it, soaked it in some cotton wool and wiped Chloe’s hands.
“That should stop it getting on anything else, but you’ll be stuck with multi-coloured hands for the next few days,” he said apologetically. “It’ll wipe off all surfaces and come out of clothes after a few washes.”
They thanked the manager and left the store. Clark took her hand as they walked along slowly.
“Chloe, I’m so sorry,” he said, looking balefully at her brightly coloured hands.
She smiled at him. “It’s not your fault, Clark, you couldn’t have known.” Then she giggled. “Personally I blame my parents for giving birth to me so close to Halloween.”
“Your poor hands,” he said, taking one of them and tracing a bright yellow splodge on her palm.
She wiggled her fingers and smiled. “I’m a writer, Clark. Ink on my hands is merely an occupational hazard.” She took her hand out of his and patted him on the cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Mr Weiner’s an ass,” he said, fuming. “He had no right humiliating you like that.”
Chloe snorted. “Please. That’s just one afternoon in the grand scheme of things. He, on the other hand, is a born Weiner. Literally. He’s going to be embarrassed everyday of his life.”
“But what about all those pictures of your…of you that everyone was taking?” he asked forlornly, trying desperately not to think of Chloe’s rear end.
She shrugged. “My back was turned. They can never prove it was me, and I’ll deny it to the high heavens if it ever shows up on the internet.”
They walked along in silence for a while. Then Clark squeezed her hand. “D’you want me to shut down the internet for you? ‘Cause I will if you do.”
Chloe burst out laughing and flung her arms around his neck. “You really would too, wouldn’t you?” she said with a chuckle.
He grinned and hugged her back. “For you, Chlo? Definitely.”
***
Chapter 2...