fic post:mariposa
12/2/06 07:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyTitle:Mariposa
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Whit…
Rating: 2
Summary: AU’s are like mother’s milk.
Warning! Lana is presented in a very negative way, if that sort of thing bothers you. Heh. Funny, I’ll warn about that, but not drugs or no-con…not that any of that is happening. Yet. *wicked laugh* I’m not telling. You’ll just have to keep reading…moo-hahah. Ha.
The Previous Parts are here, patting their mommy in a concerned way, (and going through her pockets….)
Clark was committed to escorting Lana almost against his will—they were both trapped in an uncomfortable situation trying to please Whitney. It sucked--she wasn’t doing much to hide her pique though he was trying to treat *her* the way he was sure Whit would want. It should be enough that he was sacrificing his whole night for Whit and for Lana. But no, the phone conversation he’d had with her had been as much fun as dipping his face in boiling oil. He didn’t want to hear her complain that Whit wasn’t there on her special night. He didn’t want to listen to thinly veiled insults…he was more concerned about the suit he had to wear, and getting the stupid tie right, and hoping the slick soles of the new shoes weren’t going to kill him and why couldn’t you wear sneakers with a suit? Stupid. He jerked at the tie. How could Lana hint that he was a liar in the same sentence she pat him verbally for being a good friend to her boyfriend? He scowled in the mirror, and bared his teeth. If her boy friend were here right now, he’d show her what a friend he was--
Buddy sat on the bed and watched him with great interest, and Clark frowned. “I know, I look awful, don’t I? Look at the sleeves on this thing—didn’t I just get this suit?” He tugged at the jacket sleeves, trying to cover his wrists. “Guess I grew some,” he muttered, and looked at himself in the mirror. The oddest feeling swept over him--for a moment he looked completely different--taller, broader, older. Weird. He winced when the familiar spear of pain snapped his eyes shut. He took a few deep breaths and waited it out. It wasn’t as fiercely bad as when he was a little kid, but still, the pain sometimes could take his breath away. His eyes burned too, and he rubbed them. For one crazy moment, he’d even felt a strange little prick of excitement about taking Lana to this thing, geez. He wished desperately that he was taking Lana’s boyfriend, instead. Now that would make him happy. And then, after the dance, he could have made Whit happy. He gasped a little at the instant stab of lust deep down in his gut, and blushed when he caught his expression in the mirror.
Buddy scrambled to the edge of the bed, and jumped against his leg, whining.
“I’m okay, I’m okay, just a little achy, is all. God, Whit and I have to talk. There’s no way I can live like this, Bud, no way.” He sighed, knelt and rubbed Buddy’s ears, scratched his head until Buddy’s eyes were almost closed, and he was obviously in doggie heaven, crooning little dog songs. Clark laughed, and grabbed his face. “Buddy! I love you, Bud! You’re still the best, right? Who’s a good dog, who’s a good dog,” Clark sang.
“God, you and that furball are so disgusting,” Chloe said, walked in Clark’s room uninvited and sat on the floor. Buddy immediately abandoned Clark and ran over to jump in Chloe’s lap. She scratched his tummy and Buddy sighed happily. Clark fixed him with a look he blithely ignored. “Traitor,” he muttered.
“What? Oh,” she said. “The mutt. Clark...the Weirdness is escalating again. Have you seen Jody lately? You know, big Jody?” Clark winced. “Or should I say formerly big Jody? A few days ago, she was getting harassed—because of her weight--”
“I saw Duncan teasing her—the jerk.”
Chloe nodded. “Yeah, that Duncan idiot talked to her like—like—grrr! Anyway, Pete stood up for her. Told that asshole off but good.” She scratched under Buddy’s chin and looked thoughtful for a moment. “I think that Pete realized he was kind of lucky…”
“Not to be fat?”
She rolled her eyes. “Not to be the target. He could easily be, in this town.”
“Pete?” Clark asked, “Why would anyone target--” Chloe looked at him like he was stupid and Clark flushed. “Oh, right, right—his color.”
Chloe stared at him. “Clark, it’s kind of heart warming that you are so completely color blind. Or possibly, so totally without a clue.” Clark opened his mouth to speak, but Chloe continued. “Stop interrupting. Jody—have you seen her lately? Overnight, she must have lost—lots! Maybe that disgusting stuff she’s been drinking works.” Her nose wrinkled a bit as she mused, “It reminds me of something…something I’ve seen before…hmm…anyway, Farm Boy, what time tonight?”
“Hunh? Time—oh! Damn, Chloe, I’m sorry, I have to go with Lana tonight instead. I meant to tell you—I forgot.”
“Clark! How could you forget? And what the hell—Lana!—why?” She looked suspicious, angry…and hurt. “Don’t tell me you still have some kind of crush on her?”
“God no, Whit asked me to take her—sort of stand in for him…”
“For Whitney? Jesus Clark, that’s nearly as bad—fine, screw you—I’ll find someone—or not, I don’t give a shit.” She jumped up and stomped away, leaving Buddy in a confused heap on the floor and Clark under a mountain of guilt.
******
Clark decided he should get Lana flowers or something—anything to try and make what was sure to be a tense evening a little bit better. He picked out a small bouquet of teddy bear sunflowers and orange cosmos and was just leaving the florist when he ran into Pete.
“Hey Clark. What’s up?” Pete stopped, looked at the flowers in Clark’s hand. “I heard you were taking Lana to her party instead of Whit taking her?” He looked a little confused, smiled hesitantly. “I thought…”
“Oh no, not instead of. *For* Whit. Whit’s got an opportunity to tryout at Kansas State.”
“Oh right. That’s great. So, you guys are pretty good friends, hunh?” Pete looked slightly more uncomfortable now, and grinned weakly at Clark.
“Yeah,” Clark said suspiciously. “We are--why?”
Pete swallowed and grinned wider—from nerves, Clark knew. He was definitely uncomfortable and Clark couldn’t understand why Pete was pushing it. What did he want?
“Does he know that you…you like. Him?” He asked.
So that was it, Clark thought. Fine. Pete wanted to know, he’d let him know. Clark looked down at Pete with an icy glare, “Yes. He does—and he’s fine with it. It doesn’t bother *him* at all.” Clark figured he owed Pete a jab or two….
Pete stared at his feet. “Yeah. Some people are smarter than others. Clark—I’m sorry. I know you don't care anymore, and it’s been too long, but I’m sorry I was so…ignorant. You’re you, no matter what. And I know that ‘you’ is a pretty good person to be.” He looked up at Clark with a real smile on his face.
Clark looked at Pete in surprise. “Well…okay Pete, thanks. It’s…I want to say that’s nice of you, but it’s kind of sticking in my throat.”
Pete sighed, shrugged and started to say something and then—laughed a little. “Yeah, well, happy endings only happen in the movies. I’ll guess I’ll see ya ‘round Clark.”
“Pete--maybe I’ll see you tonight. Okay?”
“Yeah, Clark,” he smiled. He turned to walk away and Clark called out to him.
“Pete…sometimes there’s such a thing as happy beginnings…” He felt stupid, until he saw the huge smile that lit Pete’s face and his eyes. Clark guessed it was the right thing to say after all. He watched Pete walk away and wondered what brought the change of heart on. Deep inside, he was glad for it. It felt pretty good to let that piece of sadness go.
****
“Thank you so much for being my escort this evening, Clark. It’s nice of Nell to do this…even though this isn’t quite the way I’d hoped to spend my birthday.”
Clark frowned and tried to lead Lana on the dance floor. “Whit asked me, and he’s my friend so I was glad to help.” They moved about the floor, and Clark peered nervously around the ballroom, white linens, white rose centerpieces at each table, tons of white streamers and white balloons drooping from the ceiling, and festooning the walls transformed the ballroom into a spun sugar nightmare version of hell. “So, this is kind of over the top even for you, hunh?”
Lana looked at him strangely for a moment before looking off into the distance again. “It just reminds me of what I don’t have…I’m always a little sad at every birthday, ever since the last birthday I was able to have with my parents…” she smiled bravely, bit her lip delicately, and Clark sighed inwardly, and prepared himself.
“We spent the night at a drive in, and Dad pulled the car up to the screen until it filled the whole windshield, just to make me laugh. I felt so grown-up, sitting between my parents on the front seat…I remember getting cold, Mom took off her sweater and wrapped me up in it, and I fell asleep between them. It was perfect and I was happy, I felt so safe…I didn’t know that I wouldn’t be happy again like that for a very long time.”
Clark made a non-committal sound and tried to look engaged. They took another turn around the floor, and Lana murmured her surprise at his ability to dance, and his knowledge of ballroom dancing.
Clark smiled. “Yeah, my mom likes to dance and I was always her partner when I was a kid. We watched old musicals together…” he blushed when Lana cocked an eyebrow at him and smirked. Gosh, he hated doing this—he felt like the world's biggest liar. Here he was dancing with Lana and pretty much wishing like crazy she was her boyfriend instead. He felt guilty, and bad for Lana. The whole situation really sucked and he hoped it was dark enough to hide his burning face.
They danced on a bit in silence, moving through the constellations the mirrored ball threw on the floors and walls,past smiling couples and he wished he were anywhere but in the ballroom, wished they’d switch the music to something that didn’t require him to hold her. Clark looked everywhere but into Lana’s face—he could feel her eyes on him constantly. She moved a little closer, and it took willpower not to move away. Lana was speaking, that dry tone in her voice—the one she used when she was about to chastise without seeming to chastise—god, he hated that….
“Whitney tends to be very trusting when he thinks someone is worthy of it.” She glanced down at Clark's hand on her waist, and he moved it, hated that he blushed. “I don’t think he could imagine that a friend would lie to him, or try to take advantage of his good nature,” she murmured. “He doesn’t understand secrets, not like you do, Clark. I think you have one, don’t you…”
Clark was stunned speechless… ‘Oh, God, she thinks I like her? Or does she mean something else?’
Lana smiled at him, the smile wrinkling her nose, and narrowing her eyes in a way he found disconcerting. Thankfully, she seemed ready to leave the dance floor. She took his hand, walked to the edge of the parquet floor, and giggled as a thought struck her. “Can you believe that Pete is taking that huge Jody to my party? I mean, sure, she’s not huge now, but…”
“She’s not?”
“Clark, don’t you pay attention to things around you? She’s stick thin now. Doesn’t matter, she’s no different than when she was fat.” She sniffed. “Though I suppose it’s all right for *Pete* to go out with her, considering he’s not--”
Clark pulled his hand free of hers and fought the urge to wipe it on his pants. “Oh gosh, Lana, ‘xcuse me I really have to get some punch right now.”
Luck for once was on his side, Whit’s friend Fred came up behind Lana, smiling at Clark, and before he could speak, Clark handed Whit’s girlfriend off. Fred stood there with her hand in his, looking confused, Lana looked irritated, and Clark walked away as fast as was polite, and wondered what in the hell was wrong with Whitney.
The punch bowl looked suspect--there were things floating in it. It took him a moment to realize that the ‘things’ were fruit frozen into ice. Clark frowned down at the pink liquid and thought the fruit still looked vaguely threatening…he heard his name being called and turned around to catch sight of Chloe, bearing down on him. ‘Oh crap--’ was she going to scold him in front of everyone?
“Chloe, I’m really, really sor--”he began and she waved him off.
“Never mind, tactless jerk boy, I’m over that—I’ve got something I want to show you. Can we go outside for a minute?”
“Sure, of course,” Clark said, and carefully didn’t compound his crime by looking for Lana.
******
They were sitting outside in Chloe’s little car, and Clark felt that should count as penance itself, when she gave him a handful of pages. “Look—I don’t understand why everyone else wasn’t as shocked as I was at Jody’s appearance, I mean, no one gets that thin that quick, but hey, we’re talking about Smallville, three impossible things before breakfast…”
“Hunh?”
“Never mind Clark. But look here—I managed to get into the animal clinic, and take a look at the deer they’d pulled off the road two days ago--”
"Ew. Why? And how?"
“They said the deer died of ‘unknown causes’. In this town, that’s just a big blinking sign saying, hey--weird shit going on here. And…I’m pretty skilled at getting what I want when I want it, Clark. I don’t want to say femme-fatal but.” She stopped and simpered and Clark yelped.
“Chloe! Stuff like that will get you in trouble—you’re not invincible, no matter what you think,” he added in a growl.
“Oh please. Now here’s the thing--”She pointed out a sheet with the Smallville Body And Fender logo. “Replaced windshield, side panels, cause of accident--impact with deer. Guess who’s car this was?” Before Clark could speak she answered herself. “Jody’s. And the deer that died of unknown causes? All the fat had been sucked out of it. He was dried out like an enormous stick of jerky—and speaking of jerky, Dustin--”
“God, Chloe,” Clark winced--she could be a touch callous sometime, when a story got her going--everyone knew about Dustin, suddenly stricken with something that made him horrible, left him in a coma…
“Okay, sorry,” she said in a tone of voice that was anything but. “What I was going to say was Dustin’s condition was the same as the deer, only he was luckier—sort of…”
“How do you know?”
“Did I mention I have a friend at Smallville Medical?”
“You need a full time keeper.”
She smirked, “Are you volunteering?”
“I’m afraid you’ll get me killed.”
She smiled. “Anyway, I want to tell Pete to avoid Jody—I think it’s obvious something’s up, in fact, I think Jody has definitely become W.O.W. material…”
“Chloe…Pete’s not here.”
“What do you mean? I talked to him before he left to pick her up—shit, Clark!”
“I’m sure everything’s okay…let’s not panic,” he said, knowing that worry colored his voice.
“Clark—Pete’s probably still at Jody’s. We have to get out there, now! If Pete is in trouble...”
Clark thought about his promise to Whit, and how angry Lana would be if he ditched her… “Let’s go,” he said and grabbed the dashboard as the car lurched into drive. “And please don’t kill us on the way.”
*****
Along the way, Chloe explained what she believed was happening to Jody-—that her house was built on a major meteor strike, that the green shakes she’d been drinking came from the vegetables grown in the more than likely contaminated soil there.
She pulled into the driveway, past the glass building signed Melville Nursery. “Clark, those meteorites change people, things…I’ve been keeping track of the weirdness and the meteorites seem to always appear somewhere, somehow. I think drinking that stuff screwed up her metabolism —she’s losing weight too fast, too fast to keep up with regular food.”
“And that’s why she needs body fat…”
They leaped from the car, and Clark ran up the driveway to Jody’s house—the only car besides Chloe’s on the drive was Pete’s, no one was moving about. His heart pounded in his chest, what could he do if Pete needed him? Chloe yelled at him to check the front as she ran to the back yard, and Clark hurried to the porch, knocked hard on the door. He eased his way in as the door swung open…towards the rear of the house he heard moaning…
“Pete? Jody?” He ran towards the sound and found Pete lying on the floor, barely conscious, he could hear Chloe yell in the back yard. He leaped over Pete and ran to the door, just in time to see Jody run to the greenhouse. Chloe looked dazed, but she waved him off, “I’m fine, I’m fine—go after her, Clark!”
“Stay with Pete,” he yelled at Chloe, as he dashed after Jody.
He ran all out, and nearly fell against the greenhouse doors, gasping in pain. His chest was on fire, and the headaches he’d had all his childhood must have been dress rehearsals for this one…he jerked to the side, and a shovel slammed through the glass.
“Shit!” Clark threw himself on the grounded, rolled away from the flailing shovel; Jody was crying and swinging, trying to hit him. All over, the ground, the seed trays, the work benches, were scattered with weakly glowing rocks.
“Why you can’t leave me alone,” the girl was screaming.
Clark tried to drag himself upright, said, “You’re sick, we just want to help you--”
“Help me? Why?” She screamed at him. “I’m fine—I’m beautiful—isn’t this what I’m supposed to look like?”
She swung again, and Clark staggered against the glass wall of the greenhouse--Jody raised the shovel over her head, and all Clark could do was hold out one hand, the other clutched against his chest as he struggled to breathe.…
Jody stopped, her mouth an open ‘O’ of horror--she dropped the shovel and moaned, touched her reflection in the glass. “Look at me, I’m a freak…I have to stop this…for good…” she panted.
Clark tried to reach out for her, “Jody, let us help you, please.”
She pushed his hand off and ran into the greenhouse, Clark turned to see her smashing the shovel through one of the gas lines that fed the greenhouse heaters.
“No!”
Clark watched her swing at the big halogen lamps hanging over the seedling trays…
“No--” The world was bright—and then it was dark….
I’m lying in a field, wheat all around me and everything’s green and swaying, slow, like lying in deep water, and the ground’s soft and cool, like it’s just been turned. I can hear wind blowing through the fields, and the seed heads rubbing together, I think the ocean must sound like this…I see clouds high, high above me, and I want to be in the clouds so bad, feel them on my face. And in the back of my mind, I know I can do it. Any time I want to, I can reach the sky, if I want to I can fly and it makes me feel so…happy, so happy, tears fill my eyes. It feels magical, the knowledge, and then a face appears over me. I think it’s someone floating above me at first, but it’s a man bending over me. I’m not scared though, I know this man, I think I love him.
Wake up, angel, wake up. He pulls me up out of the wheat, touches my face, my mouth, and I kiss his smooth sweet fingertips. He sighs, says, The best thing that ever happened to me. And I want to beg him, take me, touch me, fill me…
Angel, he says again, Clark, he whispers and his eyes close, he's closer…
“Clark!”
Clark jerked awake with a shout. He hurt all over, like someone beat the hell out of him in his sleep. Why the hell was Pete in his bedroom? And why was he yelling at him…Clark came aware all at once, and found he was being pulled along by Pete, and Chloe, who looked terror stricken and was crying so hard she could barely speak. “Clark--Clark, a--are you okay, are you all r--right?”
“m’fine,” he mumbled, “Fine,” but he suddenly became aware of heat on the back of his head, his neck, something hot and sticky soaking his shirt, wondered groggily what he’d spilled…and realized it was blood. “Damn!” He staggered, nearly tripping up his friends; they struggled to keep him upright, and stopped to let Clark get his balance. Clark slowly became aware of the harsh smell of smoke, and the crackle of fire. Behind him, the greenhouse burned… "Jody!”
“She’s gone, Clark,” Pete said, “She didn’t get out…she’s dead—and we thought you were dead, too.” He sniffed, and dragged an arm across his face, fought to get his emotions under control.
Chloe nodded, her teeth chattering in reaction to it all. “Y-you’re kind of bloody, something hit you in the head—hard, I guess. You were knocked out,” she took a gasping breath, “covered with blood.” She shivered.
Pete said, “They say even minor head wounds can bleed really hard…”
Clark felt the back of his head, there was a very small cut a little above his ear. His hair was full of tacky blood, and grit—probably soil and glass from the green house, he thought, and carefully wiped his hands on his jeans. Some of the grit sparked green, quickly faded and fell away.
He had a hard time convincing Chloe and Pete that he was fine, and in fact, felt better than he had in along time. He waited with them for the police to arrive, staring at the burning greenhouse, and feeling the most horrible sense of guilt, and sorrow. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it shouldn’t have happened like that…that it was all wrong and he was somehow to blame.
TBC
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Whit…
Rating: 2
Summary: AU’s are like mother’s milk.
Warning! Lana is presented in a very negative way, if that sort of thing bothers you. Heh. Funny, I’ll warn about that, but not drugs or no-con…not that any of that is happening. Yet. *wicked laugh* I’m not telling. You’ll just have to keep reading…moo-hahah. Ha.
The Previous Parts are here, patting their mommy in a concerned way, (and going through her pockets….)
Clark was committed to escorting Lana almost against his will—they were both trapped in an uncomfortable situation trying to please Whitney. It sucked--she wasn’t doing much to hide her pique though he was trying to treat *her* the way he was sure Whit would want. It should be enough that he was sacrificing his whole night for Whit and for Lana. But no, the phone conversation he’d had with her had been as much fun as dipping his face in boiling oil. He didn’t want to hear her complain that Whit wasn’t there on her special night. He didn’t want to listen to thinly veiled insults…he was more concerned about the suit he had to wear, and getting the stupid tie right, and hoping the slick soles of the new shoes weren’t going to kill him and why couldn’t you wear sneakers with a suit? Stupid. He jerked at the tie. How could Lana hint that he was a liar in the same sentence she pat him verbally for being a good friend to her boyfriend? He scowled in the mirror, and bared his teeth. If her boy friend were here right now, he’d show her what a friend he was--
Buddy sat on the bed and watched him with great interest, and Clark frowned. “I know, I look awful, don’t I? Look at the sleeves on this thing—didn’t I just get this suit?” He tugged at the jacket sleeves, trying to cover his wrists. “Guess I grew some,” he muttered, and looked at himself in the mirror. The oddest feeling swept over him--for a moment he looked completely different--taller, broader, older. Weird. He winced when the familiar spear of pain snapped his eyes shut. He took a few deep breaths and waited it out. It wasn’t as fiercely bad as when he was a little kid, but still, the pain sometimes could take his breath away. His eyes burned too, and he rubbed them. For one crazy moment, he’d even felt a strange little prick of excitement about taking Lana to this thing, geez. He wished desperately that he was taking Lana’s boyfriend, instead. Now that would make him happy. And then, after the dance, he could have made Whit happy. He gasped a little at the instant stab of lust deep down in his gut, and blushed when he caught his expression in the mirror.
Buddy scrambled to the edge of the bed, and jumped against his leg, whining.
“I’m okay, I’m okay, just a little achy, is all. God, Whit and I have to talk. There’s no way I can live like this, Bud, no way.” He sighed, knelt and rubbed Buddy’s ears, scratched his head until Buddy’s eyes were almost closed, and he was obviously in doggie heaven, crooning little dog songs. Clark laughed, and grabbed his face. “Buddy! I love you, Bud! You’re still the best, right? Who’s a good dog, who’s a good dog,” Clark sang.
“God, you and that furball are so disgusting,” Chloe said, walked in Clark’s room uninvited and sat on the floor. Buddy immediately abandoned Clark and ran over to jump in Chloe’s lap. She scratched his tummy and Buddy sighed happily. Clark fixed him with a look he blithely ignored. “Traitor,” he muttered.
“What? Oh,” she said. “The mutt. Clark...the Weirdness is escalating again. Have you seen Jody lately? You know, big Jody?” Clark winced. “Or should I say formerly big Jody? A few days ago, she was getting harassed—because of her weight--”
“I saw Duncan teasing her—the jerk.”
Chloe nodded. “Yeah, that Duncan idiot talked to her like—like—grrr! Anyway, Pete stood up for her. Told that asshole off but good.” She scratched under Buddy’s chin and looked thoughtful for a moment. “I think that Pete realized he was kind of lucky…”
“Not to be fat?”
She rolled her eyes. “Not to be the target. He could easily be, in this town.”
“Pete?” Clark asked, “Why would anyone target--” Chloe looked at him like he was stupid and Clark flushed. “Oh, right, right—his color.”
Chloe stared at him. “Clark, it’s kind of heart warming that you are so completely color blind. Or possibly, so totally without a clue.” Clark opened his mouth to speak, but Chloe continued. “Stop interrupting. Jody—have you seen her lately? Overnight, she must have lost—lots! Maybe that disgusting stuff she’s been drinking works.” Her nose wrinkled a bit as she mused, “It reminds me of something…something I’ve seen before…hmm…anyway, Farm Boy, what time tonight?”
“Hunh? Time—oh! Damn, Chloe, I’m sorry, I have to go with Lana tonight instead. I meant to tell you—I forgot.”
“Clark! How could you forget? And what the hell—Lana!—why?” She looked suspicious, angry…and hurt. “Don’t tell me you still have some kind of crush on her?”
“God no, Whit asked me to take her—sort of stand in for him…”
“For Whitney? Jesus Clark, that’s nearly as bad—fine, screw you—I’ll find someone—or not, I don’t give a shit.” She jumped up and stomped away, leaving Buddy in a confused heap on the floor and Clark under a mountain of guilt.
******
Clark decided he should get Lana flowers or something—anything to try and make what was sure to be a tense evening a little bit better. He picked out a small bouquet of teddy bear sunflowers and orange cosmos and was just leaving the florist when he ran into Pete.
“Hey Clark. What’s up?” Pete stopped, looked at the flowers in Clark’s hand. “I heard you were taking Lana to her party instead of Whit taking her?” He looked a little confused, smiled hesitantly. “I thought…”
“Oh no, not instead of. *For* Whit. Whit’s got an opportunity to tryout at Kansas State.”
“Oh right. That’s great. So, you guys are pretty good friends, hunh?” Pete looked slightly more uncomfortable now, and grinned weakly at Clark.
“Yeah,” Clark said suspiciously. “We are--why?”
Pete swallowed and grinned wider—from nerves, Clark knew. He was definitely uncomfortable and Clark couldn’t understand why Pete was pushing it. What did he want?
“Does he know that you…you like. Him?” He asked.
So that was it, Clark thought. Fine. Pete wanted to know, he’d let him know. Clark looked down at Pete with an icy glare, “Yes. He does—and he’s fine with it. It doesn’t bother *him* at all.” Clark figured he owed Pete a jab or two….
Pete stared at his feet. “Yeah. Some people are smarter than others. Clark—I’m sorry. I know you don't care anymore, and it’s been too long, but I’m sorry I was so…ignorant. You’re you, no matter what. And I know that ‘you’ is a pretty good person to be.” He looked up at Clark with a real smile on his face.
Clark looked at Pete in surprise. “Well…okay Pete, thanks. It’s…I want to say that’s nice of you, but it’s kind of sticking in my throat.”
Pete sighed, shrugged and started to say something and then—laughed a little. “Yeah, well, happy endings only happen in the movies. I’ll guess I’ll see ya ‘round Clark.”
“Pete--maybe I’ll see you tonight. Okay?”
“Yeah, Clark,” he smiled. He turned to walk away and Clark called out to him.
“Pete…sometimes there’s such a thing as happy beginnings…” He felt stupid, until he saw the huge smile that lit Pete’s face and his eyes. Clark guessed it was the right thing to say after all. He watched Pete walk away and wondered what brought the change of heart on. Deep inside, he was glad for it. It felt pretty good to let that piece of sadness go.
****
“Thank you so much for being my escort this evening, Clark. It’s nice of Nell to do this…even though this isn’t quite the way I’d hoped to spend my birthday.”
Clark frowned and tried to lead Lana on the dance floor. “Whit asked me, and he’s my friend so I was glad to help.” They moved about the floor, and Clark peered nervously around the ballroom, white linens, white rose centerpieces at each table, tons of white streamers and white balloons drooping from the ceiling, and festooning the walls transformed the ballroom into a spun sugar nightmare version of hell. “So, this is kind of over the top even for you, hunh?”
Lana looked at him strangely for a moment before looking off into the distance again. “It just reminds me of what I don’t have…I’m always a little sad at every birthday, ever since the last birthday I was able to have with my parents…” she smiled bravely, bit her lip delicately, and Clark sighed inwardly, and prepared himself.
“We spent the night at a drive in, and Dad pulled the car up to the screen until it filled the whole windshield, just to make me laugh. I felt so grown-up, sitting between my parents on the front seat…I remember getting cold, Mom took off her sweater and wrapped me up in it, and I fell asleep between them. It was perfect and I was happy, I felt so safe…I didn’t know that I wouldn’t be happy again like that for a very long time.”
Clark made a non-committal sound and tried to look engaged. They took another turn around the floor, and Lana murmured her surprise at his ability to dance, and his knowledge of ballroom dancing.
Clark smiled. “Yeah, my mom likes to dance and I was always her partner when I was a kid. We watched old musicals together…” he blushed when Lana cocked an eyebrow at him and smirked. Gosh, he hated doing this—he felt like the world's biggest liar. Here he was dancing with Lana and pretty much wishing like crazy she was her boyfriend instead. He felt guilty, and bad for Lana. The whole situation really sucked and he hoped it was dark enough to hide his burning face.
They danced on a bit in silence, moving through the constellations the mirrored ball threw on the floors and walls,past smiling couples and he wished he were anywhere but in the ballroom, wished they’d switch the music to something that didn’t require him to hold her. Clark looked everywhere but into Lana’s face—he could feel her eyes on him constantly. She moved a little closer, and it took willpower not to move away. Lana was speaking, that dry tone in her voice—the one she used when she was about to chastise without seeming to chastise—god, he hated that….
“Whitney tends to be very trusting when he thinks someone is worthy of it.” She glanced down at Clark's hand on her waist, and he moved it, hated that he blushed. “I don’t think he could imagine that a friend would lie to him, or try to take advantage of his good nature,” she murmured. “He doesn’t understand secrets, not like you do, Clark. I think you have one, don’t you…”
Clark was stunned speechless… ‘Oh, God, she thinks I like her? Or does she mean something else?’
Lana smiled at him, the smile wrinkling her nose, and narrowing her eyes in a way he found disconcerting. Thankfully, she seemed ready to leave the dance floor. She took his hand, walked to the edge of the parquet floor, and giggled as a thought struck her. “Can you believe that Pete is taking that huge Jody to my party? I mean, sure, she’s not huge now, but…”
“She’s not?”
“Clark, don’t you pay attention to things around you? She’s stick thin now. Doesn’t matter, she’s no different than when she was fat.” She sniffed. “Though I suppose it’s all right for *Pete* to go out with her, considering he’s not--”
Clark pulled his hand free of hers and fought the urge to wipe it on his pants. “Oh gosh, Lana, ‘xcuse me I really have to get some punch right now.”
Luck for once was on his side, Whit’s friend Fred came up behind Lana, smiling at Clark, and before he could speak, Clark handed Whit’s girlfriend off. Fred stood there with her hand in his, looking confused, Lana looked irritated, and Clark walked away as fast as was polite, and wondered what in the hell was wrong with Whitney.
The punch bowl looked suspect--there were things floating in it. It took him a moment to realize that the ‘things’ were fruit frozen into ice. Clark frowned down at the pink liquid and thought the fruit still looked vaguely threatening…he heard his name being called and turned around to catch sight of Chloe, bearing down on him. ‘Oh crap--’ was she going to scold him in front of everyone?
“Chloe, I’m really, really sor--”he began and she waved him off.
“Never mind, tactless jerk boy, I’m over that—I’ve got something I want to show you. Can we go outside for a minute?”
“Sure, of course,” Clark said, and carefully didn’t compound his crime by looking for Lana.
******
They were sitting outside in Chloe’s little car, and Clark felt that should count as penance itself, when she gave him a handful of pages. “Look—I don’t understand why everyone else wasn’t as shocked as I was at Jody’s appearance, I mean, no one gets that thin that quick, but hey, we’re talking about Smallville, three impossible things before breakfast…”
“Hunh?”
“Never mind Clark. But look here—I managed to get into the animal clinic, and take a look at the deer they’d pulled off the road two days ago--”
"Ew. Why? And how?"
“They said the deer died of ‘unknown causes’. In this town, that’s just a big blinking sign saying, hey--weird shit going on here. And…I’m pretty skilled at getting what I want when I want it, Clark. I don’t want to say femme-fatal but.” She stopped and simpered and Clark yelped.
“Chloe! Stuff like that will get you in trouble—you’re not invincible, no matter what you think,” he added in a growl.
“Oh please. Now here’s the thing--”She pointed out a sheet with the Smallville Body And Fender logo. “Replaced windshield, side panels, cause of accident--impact with deer. Guess who’s car this was?” Before Clark could speak she answered herself. “Jody’s. And the deer that died of unknown causes? All the fat had been sucked out of it. He was dried out like an enormous stick of jerky—and speaking of jerky, Dustin--”
“God, Chloe,” Clark winced--she could be a touch callous sometime, when a story got her going--everyone knew about Dustin, suddenly stricken with something that made him horrible, left him in a coma…
“Okay, sorry,” she said in a tone of voice that was anything but. “What I was going to say was Dustin’s condition was the same as the deer, only he was luckier—sort of…”
“How do you know?”
“Did I mention I have a friend at Smallville Medical?”
“You need a full time keeper.”
She smirked, “Are you volunteering?”
“I’m afraid you’ll get me killed.”
She smiled. “Anyway, I want to tell Pete to avoid Jody—I think it’s obvious something’s up, in fact, I think Jody has definitely become W.O.W. material…”
“Chloe…Pete’s not here.”
“What do you mean? I talked to him before he left to pick her up—shit, Clark!”
“I’m sure everything’s okay…let’s not panic,” he said, knowing that worry colored his voice.
“Clark—Pete’s probably still at Jody’s. We have to get out there, now! If Pete is in trouble...”
Clark thought about his promise to Whit, and how angry Lana would be if he ditched her… “Let’s go,” he said and grabbed the dashboard as the car lurched into drive. “And please don’t kill us on the way.”
*****
Along the way, Chloe explained what she believed was happening to Jody-—that her house was built on a major meteor strike, that the green shakes she’d been drinking came from the vegetables grown in the more than likely contaminated soil there.
She pulled into the driveway, past the glass building signed Melville Nursery. “Clark, those meteorites change people, things…I’ve been keeping track of the weirdness and the meteorites seem to always appear somewhere, somehow. I think drinking that stuff screwed up her metabolism —she’s losing weight too fast, too fast to keep up with regular food.”
“And that’s why she needs body fat…”
They leaped from the car, and Clark ran up the driveway to Jody’s house—the only car besides Chloe’s on the drive was Pete’s, no one was moving about. His heart pounded in his chest, what could he do if Pete needed him? Chloe yelled at him to check the front as she ran to the back yard, and Clark hurried to the porch, knocked hard on the door. He eased his way in as the door swung open…towards the rear of the house he heard moaning…
“Pete? Jody?” He ran towards the sound and found Pete lying on the floor, barely conscious, he could hear Chloe yell in the back yard. He leaped over Pete and ran to the door, just in time to see Jody run to the greenhouse. Chloe looked dazed, but she waved him off, “I’m fine, I’m fine—go after her, Clark!”
“Stay with Pete,” he yelled at Chloe, as he dashed after Jody.
He ran all out, and nearly fell against the greenhouse doors, gasping in pain. His chest was on fire, and the headaches he’d had all his childhood must have been dress rehearsals for this one…he jerked to the side, and a shovel slammed through the glass.
“Shit!” Clark threw himself on the grounded, rolled away from the flailing shovel; Jody was crying and swinging, trying to hit him. All over, the ground, the seed trays, the work benches, were scattered with weakly glowing rocks.
“Why you can’t leave me alone,” the girl was screaming.
Clark tried to drag himself upright, said, “You’re sick, we just want to help you--”
“Help me? Why?” She screamed at him. “I’m fine—I’m beautiful—isn’t this what I’m supposed to look like?”
She swung again, and Clark staggered against the glass wall of the greenhouse--Jody raised the shovel over her head, and all Clark could do was hold out one hand, the other clutched against his chest as he struggled to breathe.…
Jody stopped, her mouth an open ‘O’ of horror--she dropped the shovel and moaned, touched her reflection in the glass. “Look at me, I’m a freak…I have to stop this…for good…” she panted.
Clark tried to reach out for her, “Jody, let us help you, please.”
She pushed his hand off and ran into the greenhouse, Clark turned to see her smashing the shovel through one of the gas lines that fed the greenhouse heaters.
“No!”
Clark watched her swing at the big halogen lamps hanging over the seedling trays…
“No--” The world was bright—and then it was dark….
I’m lying in a field, wheat all around me and everything’s green and swaying, slow, like lying in deep water, and the ground’s soft and cool, like it’s just been turned. I can hear wind blowing through the fields, and the seed heads rubbing together, I think the ocean must sound like this…I see clouds high, high above me, and I want to be in the clouds so bad, feel them on my face. And in the back of my mind, I know I can do it. Any time I want to, I can reach the sky, if I want to I can fly and it makes me feel so…happy, so happy, tears fill my eyes. It feels magical, the knowledge, and then a face appears over me. I think it’s someone floating above me at first, but it’s a man bending over me. I’m not scared though, I know this man, I think I love him.
Wake up, angel, wake up. He pulls me up out of the wheat, touches my face, my mouth, and I kiss his smooth sweet fingertips. He sighs, says, The best thing that ever happened to me. And I want to beg him, take me, touch me, fill me…
Angel, he says again, Clark, he whispers and his eyes close, he's closer…
“Clark!”
Clark jerked awake with a shout. He hurt all over, like someone beat the hell out of him in his sleep. Why the hell was Pete in his bedroom? And why was he yelling at him…Clark came aware all at once, and found he was being pulled along by Pete, and Chloe, who looked terror stricken and was crying so hard she could barely speak. “Clark--Clark, a--are you okay, are you all r--right?”
“m’fine,” he mumbled, “Fine,” but he suddenly became aware of heat on the back of his head, his neck, something hot and sticky soaking his shirt, wondered groggily what he’d spilled…and realized it was blood. “Damn!” He staggered, nearly tripping up his friends; they struggled to keep him upright, and stopped to let Clark get his balance. Clark slowly became aware of the harsh smell of smoke, and the crackle of fire. Behind him, the greenhouse burned… "Jody!”
“She’s gone, Clark,” Pete said, “She didn’t get out…she’s dead—and we thought you were dead, too.” He sniffed, and dragged an arm across his face, fought to get his emotions under control.
Chloe nodded, her teeth chattering in reaction to it all. “Y-you’re kind of bloody, something hit you in the head—hard, I guess. You were knocked out,” she took a gasping breath, “covered with blood.” She shivered.
Pete said, “They say even minor head wounds can bleed really hard…”
Clark felt the back of his head, there was a very small cut a little above his ear. His hair was full of tacky blood, and grit—probably soil and glass from the green house, he thought, and carefully wiped his hands on his jeans. Some of the grit sparked green, quickly faded and fell away.
He had a hard time convincing Chloe and Pete that he was fine, and in fact, felt better than he had in along time. He waited with them for the police to arrive, staring at the burning greenhouse, and feeling the most horrible sense of guilt, and sorrow. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it shouldn’t have happened like that…that it was all wrong and he was somehow to blame.
TBC
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