Season 6, sequel to She Bop
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
"Go away, Chloe."
Clark Kent did his best to sound cold and indifferent. He'd heard his girlfriend's footsteps from the moment she'd stepped out of her red Beetle-- hell, he'd heard the Beetle coming from two miles away-- but he didn't turn to look at her. He was still smarting from the argument they'd had earlier.
It had been their first quarrel. Well, their first quarrel as lovers. And he was still sulking. He was entitled to sulk, damn it.
"Clark." Her voice was gentle. Which was a nice change. Earlier she'd been shrill and grating, about as pleasant to listen to as nails scraping over a chalkboard. "I thought we should talk."
He straightened up, still facing away from her, giving her a nice view of flannel-clad shoulders. "I don't feel like talking."
"Clark..." He heard her soft footfalls as she walked toward him, the old warped floorboards creaking with every step. "I really think we should try to be mature and work this out."
His shoulders stiffened further at the implication that he wasn't being mature. Hello, he wasn't the one who'd started the argument, was he? He was being perfectly mature here. She was the one who'd started it. It was her fault.
"I think you need to go," he said, letting his voice drip icicles.
"Clark." Her voice pitched upward, as if she was forcing it out past bared teeth. "Could you please try to be a grownup for once?"
"Me?" He uttered a soft, contemptuous laugh. "You're the one who was screeching like a banshee. I'm dealing with this in a perfectly mature fashion."
"You're dealing with it like you always do!" She sounded annoyed, somewhat to his satisfaction. She deserved to be annoyed. "Sulking like a little boy in your loft instead of actually facing the problem!"
"I'm not sulking. I'm contemplating."
"Sulking," she snapped. "You won't even look at me."
He heaved a sigh, and turned around. "I'll look if you--"
And he stopped dead, gaping at her.
She gazed back at him, her eyes wide and innocent. "Something wrong?"
"Uh..." He struggled for several seconds to get his tongue in gear. At last he managed it. "It's January, Chlo. A little cold for shorts, isn't it?"
"I'm perfectly comfortable." He vaguely noticed a faint smile curving her mouth. Vaguely, because his attention was focused elsewhere. "Just a little chilly."
"Uh..." He couldn't help but notice that her beautiful, pale skin was covered in goosebumps. Every single little hair on her arms was standing up. His heart began to thud heavily in his chest, and he felt goosebumps rise on his own skin.
"I am a little cold." She moved toward him. He stood frozen, as if he were the one turning into a block of ice. "Maybe you could wrap me up in that blanket over there."
He could, but that would mean warming her up, which would mean fewer goosebumps. He wasn't sure he was in favor of that. Then again, he didn't want his girlfriend to freeze to death, either.
"Let's try warming you up this way," he gritted out, and wrapped his arms around her.
Read Chapter 2 here.