The Bittersweet Ballad of Pete Ross ~Chapter Eleven~

Aug 01, 2006 14:56




Title: The Bittersweet Ballad of Pete Ross

Author: The Satyr Icon

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: Set in Icon AU; Freshman Year

Classification: Smallville; Chloe/Clark; Pete Ross; het_fic

Disclaimer: All characters, references, and other things pertaining to 'Smallville' are property of the WB, DC Comics, Tollin-Robins, Al Gough & Miles Millar, and J. Siegal & J. Shuster; I am just writing for fun, and if I owned them, all would be good and clean in the World.

Summary: Pete and Clark go camping, but why is Chloe coming along? and why does that infuriate Pete?

Word Count: 46,164

Written: Start: Plot: December 2004 Actually Writing: July 2006 Finished: August 2007


Chapter Ten
http://the-satyr-icon.livejournal.com/129340.html

~The Bittersweet Ballad of Pete Ross~

~CHAPTER ELEVEN~


"...Yeah, I know that it's really windy right now," Jonathan Kent answered back into the telephone receiver. Jonathan looked out the window and saw the topmost branches of the trees sway erratically. "But the tree trunks out there should act like a buffer for the kids, Gabe..."

"I'd hate to see that you call 'breezy' then, Jon," Gabe Sullivan said back to Clark's dad with a chuckle to take the edge off his own voice. Chloe's father had called the Kents several times during the day, checking in with them, letting them know that his dear, sweet daughter had forgot her cell phone and basically calling just to talk to someone. He missed Chloe, missed talking to her on the weekends when he had a chance to speak to her, missed their little conversations when she'd get home from school or from some reporting excursion, and worried about her being literally in the Great Unknown. "You think that Chl-, um...that they are okay?"

"I think that they are having a blast," Jonathan said. "Camping trips are always a good time."

"Yeah," Gabe smiled. "Chloe and the boys must be having fun."

"This is so not fun, guys," Chloe began, coming back to the tents after using the forest facilities yet again and sat gingerly on the log, avoiding knots and bumps, settling on the smoothest part of the trunk. She was cold, from being exposed to the elements (she was hating camping out more each bathroom trip); she rocked and shivered in the wind and the steep drops in temperature. "Hey...Do you guys stay warm by heating up the hot dogs and making s'mores with the light from lanterns? Just wondering here..."

"No, we don't use the lanterns," Clark laughed; he knew when she got hungry, his girlfriend got very fussy. "We make a huge campfire and - -"

"Derrrrr, Clark." She trembled. "Derr." She blew on her hands. It seemed to get even colder. Earlier, before her bathroom trip, she went into her tent and put on an extra shirt over the red one that she was already wearing. Now she also wore Clark's denim jacket over her flannel. She hated that she didn't bring a woolly scarf and that her hat kept blowing off her head. "Thats my subtle way of saying 'start a fire', okay?"

"Subtle? I thought you were being snarky." He grinned. It faded when he saw her glare at him.

"I'm being flash frozen out here!" She dug her hands into her pants pockets and shivered even more. "START A FIRE RIGHT NOW, CLARK KENT!"

Pete looked over at Chloe and saw that her teeth were chattering. It was cold, really cold, but he didn't want to let on that his butt was freezing, too. Still, he pointed at the center of their empty fire pit; he just finished putting the final big rock in place. "What's Clark going to start a fire with?"

"Hello? We're in a forest! There's some twigs all around us." She answered. Her eyes looked at Clark and pointed her trembly finger at him. "Burn them up."

"Burn them up?" Pete looked at her closely; maybe she was the first person ever to suffer from a brain-freeze without the ice cream. "How is he going to do that, Chloe? Magic?"

She groaned. Her body's condition and now the bad weather was getting to her; she was now losing track of who was around her and how she should talk around them. She said without thinking, "Heat vision."

Clark's jaw literally dropped when he heard Chloe speak. He looked at her, wide-eyed. She just shrugged her shoulders at her boyfriend. She was feeling too cold, too icky, and too hungry to lie about his powers right then.

"Heat vision?" Pete laughed. He turned to his pal, "I think the cold finally got to her. She's gone off the deep end."

"That's right, Pete." Chloe nodded. "I'm delirious. I need a hot cup of coffee, my blanket...walls...flooring...a ceiling...an actual bathroom!" The wind picked up and the two of the three teens shivered. "Clark Kent...you start something...somehow!"

"I know you don't know too much about camping, Chloe," Pete said, getting to his feet stiffly, his muscles giving into the cold. "But you do know that for a fire to happen he needs to get the wood first - -"

"You said 'wood', Bro! HA!"

Pete could do nothing other than just turn his shoulder inward from his friend's rushing body. Clark's fist was already flying, and with just a mere fraction of his strength, the knuckles struck Pete flush on that shoulder. The area went numb for a second or two. Then the nerves came alive again and fired off signals of pain that stung Pete hard. "Ahhhhhh Ow!"

Chloe's eyelids blinked a few times, processing what she just saw: Clark had just hit Pete. CLARK JUST HIT PETE. She watched her boyfriend rear his arm back again, fist clenched, and Pete was shaking the arm that was punched, wincing, hoping up and down on his sneakers in pain. Her mind raced. 'Holy Moley...They're fighting!' Then she screamed. "Stop it, Clark!" She jumped up waving her hands, trying to get between them, all in a panic. "You'll kill him!"

"The slug hurts like hell, but Clark won't kill me," Pete groaned, stepping away from Clark, glad that Chloe pushed away his friend. "It's just a sock on the arm, Chloe."

Clark laughed, but saw the look on the face of his startled girlfriend. He went over to her, caressed her face and they sat together on the log. "We have a game," Pete explained and wiggled his fingers, getting the feeling back. His other hand rubbed the sore deltoid muscle. "Man!...You got me good, you bit-...big goon."

"A game?" Chloe looked at Clark, nervously. He had scared her; she seen him do shocking feats of brute strength, but never really seen him punch anyone. Even if he did use a microcosm of his strength, just watching him throw a punch was startling. He put his arm around her and she leaned into him. "What kind of game?"

A small grin appeared on his face. "When ever we say something ..." Clark dipped his head.

"Say what?" Chloe smiled, the fear had gone away as he grinned. "I know you're blushing! Tell me..."

"Well, the game is..." Clark raised up a bit. He coughed, stalling. "We slug each other when...," his head dropped again, "whenever say anything that could be a metaphor for...sexual stuff."

"Oh...'woooood'. I get it." Chloe shook her head, thinking that her 'boys will be boys' and giggled, not because it was a witty game, but because Clark was giggling (he was thinking of 'wood' again). "Funny...Okay, I'm in."

"Really?" Pete groaned as fingers rubbed into the soreness. "You don't think it's rude?"

"You both heard my dad's jokes. He lives for poop jokes," Chloe reminded them, and the guys nodded. Clark got up and Pete traded spots with him, still rubbing at his shoulder. She looked at him. "You gunna help?"

"No," Pete said and moved his shoulder around in a circle. "He can do it - -"

Chloe grinned and slugged Pete's other shoulder. "Ow! Chloe! What the Hell?"

"You said 'do it'...that's sexual." She nodded, lips pressed together; smacking Pete felt good.

Pete smiled, for the first time really, all trip. "Not bad Miss Sullivan...."

"Thank you, thank you," she grinned and bent forward, bowing to his acclaim, and winced afterwards from the pressure on her lower abdomen.

Whatever tension there was between Pete and Chloe eased up as they watched Clark gather up some thick branches and some small broken logs; Clark pretended it was difficult carrying the heavier chunks. Chloe helped by pointing out what she thought were good pieces to Clark; Pete thought that that had best described their relationship: she told him what to do.

"Okay...who has the matches?" Clark dropped the would-be kindling into the the center of the rock pit. He looked over at his girl and his buddy. They both frowned, patted their pockets and showed him their hands, palms up, empty. Just like on every camping trip, something essential was forgotten.

"Clark...Just do your trick," Pete laughed.

Chloe flashed Clark a look: does Pete know? Clark gave back a look of uncertainty. Pete looked around, found two good-sized rocks and tossed them one after another to Clark. "Spark it up, Boy Scout-style."

"Oh! Like THAT!" Clark smiled at his best friend, taking a rock in each hand. Chloe looked relieved. "That I can do...," Clark nodded. Chloe laughed, knowing what her boyfriend was going to do; yes, he could be sneaky. She and Pete watched Clark strike the rocks together twice over some dry leaves that didn't fly out of the pit from the wind. Each time, a spark popped off the rocks, but no flames. On the third attempt, though, Clark stared hard at the logs, and just before he clicked the two rocks together, her shot a wad of his 'heat vision'. There was a huge whoosh of fire on the leaves and timber a second after the rocks ground together. He turned and smiled. His friend and his girl beamed at him; Pete's smile was big because he liked that rock-sparking trick and Chloe grinned, at how her boyfriend really started the fire.

Then a blustery wind squelched the roaring flames to down to barely flickering. "Maybe we should make the hot dogs as quick as possible...and skip the s'mores until the wind slows down," he said sadly and Chloe and Pete groaned, bummed out. Clark kept the flames alive while Pete went to get the food. They sat, prepared the hot dogs, skewering the franks and roasting them as best they could (Chloe pouted that her frank was still cold and Clark quickly cooked it). They ate their fill, with Pete drinking a bottle of Moxie Brand soda, Clark drinking milk from a chilled Thermos, and in Chloe's case, Mrs. Kent's delicious coffee (Clark earlier sped away with her Thermos while Pete fished, going home and filling up the metal container with the coffee and returned to Chloe's side. He also stopped at the Squik-E-Mart, the local convenience store, and bought his girlfriend Midol. That cemented him a place in Chloe's heart forever). Afterwards, they huddled by the fire, Pete amazed that the fire was still going despite the wind, and they talked, about Pete's sporting feats, and about Chloe and Clark's news-stories, catching up, and to Chloe and Clark, it seemed like the distance between them and Pete was closing, but for Pete, the fact that there was so many tidbits that he didn't know about his friends lately, he felt so far away from them. Slowly, he let the conversation die out, and he grabbed his fishing pole again, leaving Clark and Chloe to themselves.

Tired of casting and catching nothing, Pete put his fishing pole away and went and looked around for some Kawatchee arrowheads to add to his collection. He kept his distance while Chloe and Clark look around again for signs of the legendary Shaggy Man. Pete found more than Chloe or Clark did, and he placed the arrowheads in a leather pouch that he had since he was five years old.

The sun continued its downward arc behind gray clouds that rolled in behind the windstorm, and finally disappeared behind the tree-line, and dusk turned quickly to the dark of night. "Hey Pete," Clark called out to his friend. He and Chloe stood a few yards away the tents. When she started to shiver, he concentrated hard and looked at her hands. She felt them warm up with his heat vision. She smiled and leaned into him. Clark looked back at his friend. There was just enough clearing in the clouds for them to peer up into the heavens. "Wanna look at the stars with us?"

Pete shook his head, and continued to clean the batch of arrowheads he found in the woods by lantern-light, alone in his world, sulking, rubbing the sharpened flints spotless.

Chapter Links
Prologue ~ One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four ~ Five ~ Six ~ Seven ~ Eight ~ Nine ~ Ten ~ Eleven ~ Twelve ~ Thirteen ~ Fourteen ~ Fifteen ~ Sixteen ~ Epilogue

The Satyr Icon

chlark, het_fic

Previous post Next post
Up