Title: "Something to Tell You"
Summary: What if someone just "walked in" on Clark?
Archive: View as author intended at: niggle.0catch.com
Story edited only to add this note:
I am somewhat surprised that anyone read this, much less posted reviews. I'm glad a few liked it and sorry that I cannot continue. I don't "publish" stories that are not (in my mind, anyway) complete. This is a vignette (all I've been able to write as of yet). It just popped into me head and I wrote it down. I was just wondering something, what it might be like if Chloe did "walk in" on Clark. The rest is left to your imagination, since mine is unable to continue. I had no intention of continuing when I started, I knew exactly how long the scene would be. I suppose it's possible I might continue it, but odds are I won't. Same goes for the other vignettes. Thanks for the reviews. Namarie - Niggle, 5/17/02
Chloe walked slowly, trying to map out the words in her head. Writing an article for the Torch had never been this difficult. She had hoped that if she just found the right thing to say and the right way to say it, she would be all right. But how did you tell someone that his best friend had lied straight to his face?
It was a chilly, almost cold afternoon, overcast and slightly misty. The Kansas landscape to her left looked almost picturesque with its steamy veil of almost-rain. She stopped and put a hand on the fence rail that ran up the drive, feeling the wet wood, solid beneath her fingers. She could hear cows lowing mournfully somewhere in the fields. She didn't want to go. She wanted to stay right where she was.
She forced herself to take the next step, and the one after that, bringing her to the door of the Kent barn, where she knew she was almost certain to find Clark, poring over his homework or fiddling with his star charts. She caught sight of him, bent over what looked like a carburetor as he reached the bottom of the steps, slightly turned away from the door. As she entered, he dropped a small nut. The tiny metal circle bounced a few times on the dirt floor and rolled underneath the tractor. She watched him for a second, wishing that she could just watch him, that she didn't have to announce her presence with her ugly discovery. Her mouth got halfway open before all thoughts of Lex and Dr. Hamilton were driven forcibly from her mind.
In an effort to retrieve the lost nut, Clark had lifted the tractor.
With one hand.
In fact, it bore a striking resemblance to the way Eric had tossed that sport ute when he attacked Brent.
He picked up the lost bit of steel with the same hand that held the carburetor and turned to see Chloe staring at him open-mouthed. The tractor made an ungodly noise as it crashed to the ground. Clark jumped and winced as the squeal of metal announced that the axle had snapped in half. Clark looked at his friend with the most exquisite deer-in-the-headlights look that the amateur journalist had ever seen in her life. Then he looked at the tractor. He looked back at Chloe. His mouth worked a few times. He licked his lips and looked at the tractor.
Chloe just stared at him, jaw still firmly dropped, eyebrows still raised.
Clark looked at the ground and sighed miserably.