TFTYEAM p5

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* And the skipping record continues... to season five.*

Title: The Few Times You Ever Asked Me
Rating: PG
Couples: Chlark
Disclaimer: The WB and CW own everything. I own nothing.
Summary: Cutouts from Chloe and Clark's life that led to, something.
Season 5









the few times you ever asked me/ 5






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"Clark," Chloe sighed, eyes squinting away from the hot sun, "I don't know how you do it, but you do."

"Do what?" Clark looked over his shoulder to his passenger, hands ahold of the steering wheel.

It was the end of a very long day, the sun setting in the west as the beat up, red pick-up drove south down the dirt road.

Chloe sighed again, a smile appearing across her lips just enough for Clark to know she was teasing. But Chloe remained quiet between that smile, her hand shielding her eyes from the strong rays that bombarded her right side.

"Put the visor down." Clark instructed, smiling too. He reached over, fingers pulling the flap down.

But, it was short.

Or, was it that she was short? The bright sun still in her eyes, lighting them afire, green and... playful?

"The visor doesn't help, Clark."

"I can see that."

"We go through this every time we drive to Metropolis in your truck..."

"Well, you insisted we drive." Clark pointed out, "Meanwhile, I could have super sped us both and back--"

"--And every morning when we drive," Chloe continued on, "the sun is in the east and I'm always on that side. And every after noon when we drive back, the sun is in the west and I'm again always on this side--"

Clark looked over his shoulder again, seeing how her hands moved from left to right, this conversation bordering on the side of a rant. No matter how irritated Chloe secretly was, Clark equally and secretly liked her moods. She was always a little cuter with her words sped up, her cheeks flushed, hands and arms waving up and down in some sort of dance, humorous only to him.

In these moods, Clark never worried. He knew what would remedy Chloe.

And then it struck him.

They planned this Sunday morning exclusively to venture inside the city and get a fresh cup of coffee. No impending disaster or super saves in the itinerary, just coffee and conversation on a quiet day. But of course, just as they stepped into the cafe in downtown Metropolis, an apartment fire flared up.

Somewhere an hour away, there were two cold coffees sitting on a counter.

The red truck continued down the road, a gas station coming up.

Clark looked over, noticing Chloe's cheeks pinker than usual. She was running on empty, on withdrawals, poor thing.

"...And I know I sound like I'm complaining, but I have sensitive skin, Clark, and right now my cheeks feel like they're on fire, and ..." Chloe stopped mid sentence, watching as the truck pulled into the gas station. "Why are we stopping?"

Clark cracked a smile. "Just stay in the truck." He popped open his door and slid out, crossing the gravel drive hands shoved into his jacket.

Chloe watched him with a question mark, the station blocking what was left of the sun. Her eyes could finally open up to the quiet road and the lonely spot they were stopped at, grass breathing in the fields as the wind carried the hush for miles.

She took a deep breath, late remorse hitting her when she saw Clark reappear from the station with a red lidded cup in his hands.

She smiled, rolling down her window.

Clark leaned in, handing her the coffee.

"I'm sorry." Chloe said quietly, small hands cradling the cup to her mouth.

He smiled to himself, noting how the smallest cup of warmth tamed her.

"No, I'm sorry." Clark said, resting his arms inside the window. "I was supposed to take you into the city for a coffee, but everything got ruined."

She shook her head, swallowing the deliciousness, "Not ruined, Clark. You saved that entire apartment building from collapsing in the fire, not to mention the robbery we came across on the walk back to the car, or that missing juvenile you helped track down..." She smiled, rolling her eyes, "I mean the list could go on and on."

He laughed, "Yeah, well who tracked down the blueprints of that apartment building, or hacked into the wireless transaction before those crooks could transfer the money? The way you found out the license plate of the car that took the kid? " His hand reached out to her cheek, feeling them very warm.

She smiled, her body shying away.

Clark's smile loosened, his hand sliding back to his jacket. "You have a fever."

"It's just a sunburn."

"From sitting in my truck?"

"From sitting in your truck with the sun beating down, yes."

Clark stomped his boots against gravel. "Chloe, I told you we should have taken the 'Express'."

Chloe smiled impishly, "And I told you I missed our three hour drives to Metropolis."

They both looked at each other, laughter in their eyes before Clark gave up and walked back to the driver side.

Perhaps it was a losing game, the both of them desperately holding onto the days where life wasn't filled with worry, with duty. There were all these obligations and responsibilities that came with saving the world once, twice, every week. When you had the ability to make a difference, you could never stop trying. Every single save mattered. Every single day, every moment an opportunity to save someone, something, a cause, or an idea, a freedom.

But those obligations left Clark and Chloe with less of the freedom of their own lives, gradually giving up on having entire days to themselves, settling for the in between moments that was left over...

Here in the truck, as Clark pulled out and onto the empty road. The sun was deeper now, the light dying with the rest of the day and into the rows of corn that Chloe always counted, lost track, and recounted again.

The seats smelled like Jonathan Kent's aftershave, Chloe picturing how Martha looked sitting across from her husband in this very same seat.

She looked over at Clark, just the way she imagined Martha would, the warm glow illuminating Clark's strong face, his dark hair absorbing any light, except for the way it brightened in his eyes.

He looked over at her then, his look softer than on the road. "Scoot over."

Another question mark as she blinked at him, but that was before his large hand went behind her shoulders and pulled lightly. "So the sun isn't in your eyes." He explained.

She continued to study him, his expression, the thoughts she imagined that were his. Didn't he know the sun was setting? It barely a dull rose color in the sky.

But his arm fell to her shoulders, heavier now than before. Was this a gentle suggestion, a friendly gesture? Or was it more than just...

She quit hesitating, placing the half empty cup in the holder before sliding over to the middle, to break the distance, Clark's arm resting over the back of her seat.

"See?" Clark said softly, eyes watching the road, "Next time you can just sit here next to me."

It was warmer next to Clark, their legs nestling together in that small cab. His jacket brushed against her arms, the fabric worn and surprisingly, soft.

"Okay, Clark."

Her voice was very low, causing Clark to drop his ear. But he heard her, she knew he heard her. He was the superman that could hear a pin drop miles away. So why couldn't he hear her?

There in the truck, with the two of them huddled so close, she wondered how a man could not hear this?


Beat


Beat


His body shifted towards her, and for a moment she thought--

He turned on the radio.

A tinny voice from the sports announcer, listening to the baseball game until they reached home.

A relieved smile settled on Chloe's face. Tension broken with familiarity and the safe zone of friendship. She was so close to Clark now in that truck, the feeling permeating to where she knew, her closeness with him would last a long while even after.

Gradually, her heart slowed below the surface, below her smile, where she knew Clark would never hear it.


.

Night fell at last.

Old headlights shone against the road, Clark driving steadily as the radio whispered in the small cab.

She was asleep, and for some time. Curled up on his shoulder, and purring since her head first hit his chest. Her eyes closed, yellow hair shifted out of place by the highs and lows of the road. Clark brushed them all away, savoring the look of quiet on her face as she slept.

The truck coasted to the fork in the road, headlights hitting the road sign. This was where Clark always turned to Chloe and smiled, asking if she wanted to take the short way, or the long way home. But that night, Chloe was asleep. So Clark left the question behind, already knowing the answer as he turned the wheel.

The tires turned in the least traveled grooves, retreading the dull gutters of the road and weed.

The long way home consisted of crossing the old Reeves Dam and then crossing the railroad tracks that took you on the backside of Smallville. They passed the bridge and the water underneath, stars filling the body and the field in the sky.

Clark leaned over and turned off the radio, the program long gone off air.

Now there was just the sound of the tires against the road, and Chloe's subtle breaths against his jacket.

The truck made it all the way to the rail road crossing where Clark saw the first lights in the distance. They were almost home.

But Clark slowed the truck, his ears listening for the low rumble of the rails. It was there, miles away, but it was there.

Clark waited from the old truck to slow and then stop, watching for the dull lamps to illuminate, for the arms to swing down.

It would be another ten minutes until they did.

But Clark parked anyway, this secret between him, and the closed eyes of the truck.

She was still asleep.

And it was only in these few times where Clark could choose to stay a little longer with her. No motive, no reason or excuse. Just to linger and just be.

Clark stopped worrying about the world, and settled for the sound of her beside him, her slow and steady breaths, small puffs of warmth hitting his chin. He bent down, brushing his lips across her forehead, the skin even warmer than his.

Her fever touched his skin, and then through to where his body tingled with a strange shiver of excitement.

Outside the truck, the red crossing lamp lit and blinked, the glow filling the truck cab with a rose color.

Their bodies blended together in that cloudy light, Clark's arm fully around her by the time the crossing arms bent down.

A train light appeared in the distance.

Now, they had no where else to go. An outside force sticking them there a little longer.

Clark smiled, turning off the engine.

Headlights dimming down.

The crossing light blinked off and on, the rose color blurring the contours of their faces, of their eyes.

Hers were still closed, so he looked up to the stars where the sky was still very dark.

What were stars anyway? Clark thought.

Only balls of energy, light, some stronger, larger than the star this world claimed. No matter how many suns filled the sky, the light was still so far away.

Clark sat there, counting the distant suns who's light would never be strong enough to burn his, or Chloe's skin. There was only one sun that reached them, that could touch his skin and make him strong, that could touch her skin and make her warm.

There was only one special friendship in his life.

His mind stalled at that random idea, it becoming less random the more he thought about it. His lips bent down and whispered, knowing her dreaming ears wouldn't hear, only his words were covered by the train's horn, blaring softly in the distance.

And it was there, he thought, he saw her eyes open, the flecks of green caught in the rose light before it faded off again.

He waited until the light returned, finding her eyes closed like before.

Was she awake?

"Chloe." Clark shook her lightly, the tingle of excitement escaping through his fingers. They eagerly brushed aside her hair.

The train came and passed, but still her eyes stayed closed.

But her arms, they folded around Clark's chest tentatively in her sleep, closing entirely until she was wrapped delicately around.

The rose lights faded out, the night returning, the crossing arms releasing them from that place, from that moment.

Clark turned the keys, the engine rumbling to life.

He took one last glance at her closed eyes and smiled, driving the rest of the way home.
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