ok guys, this was bugging me for the longest time, this little plot bunny here, so I had to write it. It is based after Jinx. originally it was going to be a part of one of my other stories, and it was going to end after Saturday morning, but, I decided it couldn't end there. so, I hope you like it.

WARNING:extremely long

Disclaimer:I own nothing from this episode of Smallville, or any of Smallville, duh. If I did, this is how that episode would have ended!

Weakness

Chloe walked through the door just as his parents left the room. She laughs cynically at herself for the way her body heats up and the way her stomach ties in knots when she sees Clark. But she also grimaces mentally for the way her heart starts aching with longing.

"I don't know what it is about you Clark, but no matter how many times I put you in the penalty box, it never sticks," she quips, smiling slightly.

Clark turns toward her and smiles back. Relief courses through his body and he almost collapses with the joy he feels when he realizes Chloe isn't mad at him anymore.

"I hear you're quite the hero tonight Clark Kent." The way she says it makes him blush, and that makes her smile grow even wider.

Clark's heartbeat speeds up, thumping in his chest as she comes closer. That voice fills his ears like his favorite music, and the scent of her strawberry shampoo tickles his nose.

"Yeah, well, if it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have won the game." He smiles at her as she walks closer.

"Yeah, well, you can thank Uncle Sam for that." Clark looks at her, confused, and she immediately explains, laughing.

"My Uncle Sam. It's amazing the access a three-star general has to cool toys. And you never know when a jamming device for stealth fighters will come in handy at a football game."

"Because of that jamming device, Mikhail can't control anyone anymore."

"Awesome." She walks past him and pulls herself up on the counter.

"But what I don't understand, is how I miraculously came untied."

Chloe looked at him expectantly, her eyes questioning him, her grin beckoning him to answer. Clark opened his mouth, and then closed it again, desperately trying to formulate some sort of answer. But after he'd wracked his brain he still couldn't think of anything, so he decided to respond with a question of his own, something that had been bugging him.

"And what I don't understand, is how you got sucked into anything besides anonymous tips." Says Clark, walking closer to Chloe.

"Well, we all have our weaknesses, I guess…" starts Chloe, and Clark smiles, "…except for you of course."

Clarks smile fades as he looks into Chloe's eyes. If only she knew, he wanted so desperately to say that his weakness was her. He felt the words in his throat, ready at any moment to spring forth and convey his deepest desires. The look in her eyes was one of complete innocence, she had no clue how she was affecting him. It took all his strength not to reach out and touch her face at that moment.

God Chloe, why do you have to be so damn beautiful?

But Clark knows he can't follow through on this sudden burst of emotion, Chloe's his best friend. After what he put her through at the Spring Formal and everything after…he can't expect her to still love him. But with his entire being he wishes she did love him. To returned by the girl of his fantasies, that would surpass any feeling of joy he'd ever felt. But, he knew it would never happen, he'd blown his chance. He sighs, and turns away, setting down his backpack, he goes outside, football still in hand.

Chloe's smirk disappears as she realizes she said something wrong. The thought that she'd done something to upset Clark made her stomach churn. She follows Clark outside and decides she has to cheer him up. Almost more for the sake of her mental well being rather than his. She runs up behind him and snatches the football out of his hands.

"And the famous quarterback has somehow fumbled the football!" She smiles and turns to face him, ball in hand. The wind blows her hair into her eyes as she continues smirking, daring him to take the bait.

"The one question on everyone's minds is…can he catch Chloe Sullivan as she runs to win the game?" Raising the ball over her head like a trophy, Chloe grins at Clark, tempting him to join in the fun. Clutching the ball close to her chest, Chloe turns and takes off running.

Clark looks at her back for one second, a slow smile creeping onto his lips. He admires the way her body moves so easily, despite her two-inch heels digging into the soft ground with each step, and shakes his head lightly. Laughing softly at her silly antics, Clark can't believe that Chloe is trying to goad him into play football with her, but this is a chance he won't pass up. Clark takes off after her, catching her easily, he wraps his arms around her, and keeps laughing. Chloe joins in, still holding the football.

But they both feel it, despite their light-hearted laughter, the subconscious pull towards one another is too strong to ignore. Clark notices how perfectly Chloe fits in his arms and at the same time Chloe feels as if her body is on fire as Clark holds her close. The smell of Chloe's hair is driving Clark insane and his hot breath on her neck sends shivers racing up and down Chloe's spine.

Then they come to their senses, both using the friendship card as an excuse to try and shut down their feelings. Releasing her, Clark steps back, and crosses his arms, he tries in vain to rid himself of the memory of her in his arms. Chloe grasps the football tighter, chiding herself for allowing her emotions to rule for even that precious second of time.

"So what now?" asks Clark, using those three words as a feeble attempt to return their situation to any kind of normalcy. Chloe walks to the porch and takes off her shoes, apparently normalcy isn't at the top of her To Do list at this point in time.

"Chloe?" says Clark, his forehead wrinkling in confusion.

Chloe laughs at his reaction, "Me taking my clothes off doesn't bother you does it?"

"No of course not, here let me help you," says Clark, grinning devilishly as he hops up onto the porch. Wrapping her in his arms he kisses her full on the lips.

Chloe shakes her head, trying to get that daydream out of her head.

God Chloe get a hold of yourself!

Opening her mouth, she's suddenly glad of her ability to think of sarcastic comments in no time flat.

"What? Games don't end after the first tackle…come on Clark, you should know that." Chloe laughed again, and hopped off the porch in bare feet. Clark laughed at her smile and took off his varsity jacket, setting it on the porch.

"Chloe, you can't beat me." Clark grinned, knowing he sounded cocky.

Now at this point, if caught in the act, they would brush off their antics as having fun, their talk was just teasing and witty banter between friends. But anyone could see, this was flirting, and this game was the result of Chloe not wanting to leave, and Clark praying desperately that she doesn't.

"Don't be so sure Clark, you might be the star quarterback but I've got a few tricks of my own…" Chloe grinned mischievously at him and Clark gulped nervously as he followed her out to the yard.

Finding courage from the depths of his soul, Clark asks Chloe a very provocative question, which is very un-Clark-like.

"And those 'tricks' would consist of…?" He raises his eyebrows suggestively as Chloe turns to look at him.

"Mostly things like this…" Chloe grins, walks up to him and, pulling his head down to hers, she kisses him.

Now it is Clark's turn to try and chase away the daydreams that haunt him constantly.

Clark she is your best friend! You are not allowed to have thoughts like that, about your best friend!

Searching his memory for what they were talking about he takes a second to reply.

"Okay fine, you're on Chloe. The end zones are the porch and the barn, and since I have the advantage, you can start with the ball."

"Well I guess that's fair since I already have the ball!"

They both laughed at that, and then suddenly Chloe took off running for the barn. Clark started after her, slowing himself up just enough so he caught her right before she reached the barn. Grabbing her by the waist, he stopped her just short of touching the old wood. Chloe twisted in his arms, and looked up, still holding the ball.

"Well… I think that's a first down," she said, smiling slightly.

"Yeah, that is," said Clark, almost in a whisper. He stared down at her face, unable to move. Both of them are suddenly glad for the football between them, keeping Chloe from leaning against his well-muscled chest, and keeping Clark from pulling her there.

"I think you'd better let go of me before I call a holding penalty on you."

Her voice is breathless as she looks up into his eyes, it was that look again, that look that she feared. His face was expressionless, and his eyes felt as if they would burn a hole through her. She hated this look because she had no idea what he was thinking. But she feared this look more, because that gaze was his, I-can-see-into-the-deepest-darkest-corners-of-your-soul, gaze, and she didn't want him to be able to read her like that.

Chloe desperately needed to escape his arms, the memory of his hand on her face overtook her and she shivered. That entire memory of what had happened in the Torch office just came flooding back. She had to get away before she said or did something she knew she'd regret. Laughing to cover up her true feelings, she walked back to the porch.

"What? Chloe Sullivan giving up so soon?" Clark added a taunting note to his voice, not wanting her to leave yet. Chloe froze halfway up the porch steps.

She knew it was a ploy, an unwillingly set trap for her to fall into, just like she always did. She knew that, but she couldn't help herself. Taking a deep breath, Chloe turned to look at Clark. He stood in the yard, illuminated by only the moon. His blue T-shirt blended in so well with the night, but his eyes sparkled in the moonlight. That grin was on his face, daring her to come back and get beat. Well, Chloe Sullivan wasn't one to back down from a challenge, and she knew it. She slipped off her green coat and walked back to where he stood on the grass.

"Okay, I'll play, but what do I get if I win?"

"More Chloe?" Clark grinned at her, but Chloe's face remained still.

"Okay fine, if you win, I'll give you whatever you want. But, if I win, you have to give me whatever I want."

"Deal," said Chloe, stretching out her hand for him to shake. He took it, but his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

What are you up to Chloe?

One hour later…

Clark stood, bent over, his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. His blue T-shirt, much to Chloe's joy and dismay, had long ago come off. Chloe stood a few feet away, panting, with the ball in her hands. Her deep purple, off the shoulder, shirt had come off with Clark's, leaving only a small, black, strapless top. Clark had stared for as long as he could before Chloe had noticed.

The score was tied, it was past midnight, and Clark's parents had long ago gone to bed. Only the moonlight showed these two friends, battling it out on the lawn, appearing to be playing football, but really playing games of the heart.

"Next score wins," said Clark after he caught his breath.

Chloe was only a few feet from her endzone, all she had to do was stretch out one hand to touch that old barn, and she would win. Nodding, Chloe took her position.

Clark stood opposite from her, crouched low, and determined not to let her get past him. Then, suddenly it got dark, clouds had covered the moon. They both heard a rumble of thunder in the distance, and then felt the rain. Big drops fell to the earth, first slowly, then rapidly. What had been a drizzle became a downpour in a matter of seconds.

Neither Clark nor Chloe moved, both unwilling to stop now. Then Chloe took off running, but Clark managed to catch her leg, and even though he was careful, she fell to the ground, hard. They both came up covered with mud, and yet neither one of them was laughing at how ridiculous they both looked. Both were too busy trying to not admire the other. Soaked to the bone, they just stood in the rain.

Clark couldn't help himself and he looked at Chloe, her clothes were plastered to her skin and her hair was dripping, water ran down her face in streams. He watched, fascinated, as drops fell from her eyelashes, to her cheeks, only to drip off her chin with the others and fall to the ground. Then he noticed something dark mixing with the rain. Blood. Chloe had a cut on the side of her forehead, and as soon as he noticed it, Clark felt horrible for injuring his best friend.

"Chloe, hold up a sec, you-" Clark stood up and took a step towards Chloe, but he stopped short as she suddenly sprinted for the barn. In the second it took him to comprehend she was running, she had already reached the barn.

"Yes!" Chloe spiked the ball and danced around in a circle. "Clark you lose! I beat you! I win!"

Clark just stood there, watching her dance in the rain, covered in mud. He couldn't help but smile at how she could still look gorgeous in this situation. Sticking his hands in his pockets, Clark just stared.

Only Chloe…

His smile grew as her dancing continued, and he almost laughed. He probably would have too, if it hadn't been that, somehow, this little dance was extremely sexy in some weird, Chloe-esque, way.

He admired the way her jeans hugged her legs as she moved, and was fascinated by the way her shirt was plastered to her curves.

God Clark! Get a grip! These are not thoughts you should be having about your friend!

Shaking his head, he tried to rid himself of those images of Chloe. Starting towards the barn, Clark flipped on the light, but Chloe followed, right on his heels.

"Well Clark? What have you got to say for yourself?" She smiled widely, planting her hands on her hips.

Clark turned to face Chloe, her smile appeared to light up the whole barn. She was practically glowing, and water was still running off her smooth skin. He tried to keep himself from ogling, but it wasn't working too well.

Wait she asked me a question.

He could tell by the way her eyebrows were raised that she still expected an answer. So Clark said the one thing that came to mind.

"You cheated," he replied softly.

"Oh that's original! Nice try Clark, what did I do?"

Chloe's smile grew wider and she stepped closer to him, everything about her daring and energetic. She had won, and she wasn't about to let him get off without having her bit of fun first. Clark looked down at her, trying to hide the fact that the fire in her eyes, and the way her clothes were stuck to her skin, was turning him on.

"You distracted me," he said, sounding breathless.

Chloe stopped for a second, hesitating because of the way he said it, filled with so much passion. But in an effort to lighten the mood and keep away her own feelings, she had to talk.

"Whatever! If you insist on being such a baby, then you can just go back out in the rain!"

Chloe laughed as she shoved him back outside the barn, but Clark grabbed her hand and pulled her with him. They stood out in the rain, both breathing heavily. Clark still held Chloe's hand, and he used it to pull her to him. Putting that hand on the small of her back, he held her close to him. Using the other, he gently pushed back the hair that had fallen into her face.

Her hands were pinned against his wet, bare chest. Chloe couldn't help but lean into his warm body, and the goosebumps on her skin weren't entirely from the cold. Fighting the urge to trace his tightened muscles with her fingertips, she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her racing heart. She looked up into his face, rivulets of water were running from his hair down into his eyes. She looked into those eyes, fascinated by how they had suddenly turned from a light blue, to the deepest brown possible.

"Only if you come with me," whispered Clark softly.

Chloe couldn't move, and neither of them cared. She had lost sense of everything, she no longer felt the rain, heard the thunder, or saw the lightning. All she could see, all she could feel, was Clark. So they both stood there, until Clark did the inevitable, and let his eyes wander down to her lips. He started to lean in, and Chloe involuntarily tilted her head up to meet him.

They could almost taste one another, they were almost touching, almost giving in, but something was holding them back. They were so close, to breaking all the rules, to giving in, to crossing the unspoken boundary between friendly games and…The spell was broken as Clark noticed her cut.

"God Chlo," he said softly, gently stroking the area of skin around the gash.

Chloe winced, as he came a little too close, but she shuddered in the sweet pleasure of the way he said her name.

"Come on, let's go get that taken care of," said Clark, taking her hand and leading her to the house.

Clark why do you have to be so sweet?

Once inside the house, Clark told Chloe where to find clothes and went to his room to change.

As Clark changed he glanced at a picture of him and Chloe he had on his wall. It was them together in the Torch, working on a story, Pete had taken it, and it was one of his favorite pictures.

They were working on her editorial for that week's edition, and he was correcting her comma issues. They were laughing together at her original and cynical view of the assembly on drugs. She was leaning in to point something out and he just sat there and looked down at her face, smiling. Pete had teased him endlessly about that, he had been caught checking Chloe out. He had denied it of course…but a part of him knew what he really felt.

What he had felt when he thought Chloe might be killed had almost suffocated him. If he hadn't been able to save her, he knew he would have thrown the game, nothing was more important than Chloe.

Chloe grabbed clothes and went into the bathroom to change, whispering, "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," over and over and over again. She stripped and dried off before putting on clean clothes. As she slipped on Clark's shirt her skin tingled, it still smelled like him.

What the hell am I doing?

She rubbed a towel carelessly over her head, gritting her teeth when she accidentally ran it over her cut. Trying to keep her mind off Clark for a second, she studied herself in the mirror. Only to find that she looked like crap, her make-up was gone, and her hair was a mess. She was leaning in closer to examine her skin when she heard a door open.

Clark came out to find Chloe drying her hair with a towel in the bathroom. She had changed into his sky blue long sleeved Tee, but had apparently been unable to locate pants. Clark tried to keep his gaze away from her legs as she smiled at him. Her hair was going every which way, and she looked absolutely adorable.

Chloe tried to hide how uncomfortable she was, but with nothing except one of Clark's shirts on, and Martha's panties, it was hard. She felt incredibly naked with no bra and nothing covering her legs. Clark had changed into a white T-shirt and, what else, plaid pajama pants. Chloe thanked God that he had a shirt on now, maybe she would be able to exercise some self control.

"Come on," whispered Clark, being careful not to wake his parents up.

He led her to the kitchen, and found the first aid stuff in the cabinet. Grabbing the antiseptic he turned to face Chloe. Gently applying it to the cut, he frowned, torn up inside that he'd done that.

Man her skin is so soft…damnit Clark! Stop it already!

Chloe just stood there as he finished with the antiseptic and put on the bandage. Warmth spread from where his fingers came in contact with her skin and she could feel his breath on her face. She could feel his body heat with how close they were standing, she could almost taste his lips as he licked them in concentration.

Chloe what are you thinking? Snap out of it girl!

"Thanks Clark," she whispered, meeting his eyes.

He smiled at her, and then they went to sit on the couch. He sat on one end and she sat on the other. Chloe folded her legs underneath her and they faced each other.

"So Chloe, what do you want?"

"Huh?" said Chloe, shaking her head, trying to focus on what he was saying. The moon was out again and it was making Clark's face light up, he looked angelic.

"Our deal remember? You won. So what do you want?" He grinned at her confused look.

"Oh that's right…ummm…"

If only he knew what a loaded question that is…

She thought about it, but tried desperately not to really think about what she wanted from Clark. All those feelings of rejection, everytime he'd let her down, all of that came rushing back to her. But then there were the times he'd come to her rescue, those times she'd been able to cry on his shoulder and he had held her close. He had promised her that everything would be okay, and that he would always be there to save her. Then Chloe suddenly turned away, trying to hide her tears as they started to fall.

"Hey, hey, shh," said Clark softly, immediately going into comforting mode. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap, holding her close. Chloe buried her head in his chest as he stroked her hair.

"Hey it's okay, shh…shh, it's okay, I'm here, I'm here."

Clark held her until the tears subsided, he kept whispering sweet nothings into her ear as she cried into his chest, soaking his shirt. Guilt consumed him, and his eyes stung with unreleased tears as he was overcome with an intense feeling. He was unable to place it, unable to name it, but he felt as if this was his fault, for not protecting Chloe from whatever she was crying about. When she pulled back, he let her, but kept his arms around her.

"What's wrong Chloe?" She just looked at him, thinking of what to say.

"Clark I don't want to lose you," she started, one last tear falling down her cheek.

Now that she had started, she wondered if she could ever stop. This was the part of her she had refused to let anyone see for so long. This weak part of her, Clark just seemed to bring it out, he made her feel as if she could let him see all of her. But her logical mind told her over and over again that if she let people in they would walk all over her.

"Chloe," said Clark firmly as he wiped away her tear, "You will never lose me, ever." He saw the torment in her eyes, her inner struggle between telling him and lying to him.

"But if I tell you what I want, then I…Clark you can't give it to me."

"Chloe," said Clark, taking her head in his hands. "I would give you the world, just tell me what you want, and you'll have it, I promise."

"Clark…I want…damnit I hate crying! God this is going to sound so childish! I hate it when I sound pathetic, when I sound weak." Clark just smiled at her, knowing Chloe was anything but weak.

"Chloe you can tell me anything, I could never think of you as pathetic, just tell me what you want."

Chloe fiddled with her hands, until Clark finally slid his hands down her arms to hold them. She looked into his eyes, knowing she had to tell him.

"I want someone to love me, to really, truly, love me. Love me just for me, just for who I am…and after all these years, I don't think that will ever happen."

The tears started to fall and Chloe looked down, unable to meet Clark's eyes. Clark's heart started to break as he sat there and watched Chloe cry. He couldn't take it anymore. He lifted her chin with his fingers.

"Chloe you are insane, crazy, reckless, a loudmouth…and the most beautiful, wonderful girl I've ever met…and Chloe…I love you."

Then he pulled her to him, and put his mouth on hers. He gently pressed his lips to hers, he hadn't been meaning to turn this sweet, caring kiss into anything more. But as she shifted closer to him, moved back onto his lap, something else took control. He moved one hand to support her head, and tangled it in her hair, the other he used to hold her close. Chloe ran her hands up his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Clark captured her mouth with his own, and they both became lost in their own world, overcome by the sensation of the other's lips on their own. When the need to breathe became too urgent to ignore, they pulled back. Chloe struggled desperately to regain her sanity.

"Clark why didn't you tell me?" she asked shakily, still processing what she'd just heard.

"I was afraid of losing you."

"Clark," said Chloe smiling, "you'll never lose me." Clark kissed her again on the lips, and then, lightly, he kissed her on the forehead. Grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch, he pulled Chloe into a sleeping position and covered them with the blanket. Chloe snuggled into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

Half asleep, Clark thought of one more question to ask Chloe.

"Chloe?" he whispered softly.

"Hmm?" answered Chloe, almost asleep herself.

"What's your weakness? Because I know it's not ." The last part he said with a smile gracing his lips.

"You…" answered Chloe. Clark sighed with satisfaction at her answer, but his breath caught at her next words.

"What's your weakness Clark?"

Clark took a deep breath, but just as he was about to answer, a low moan escaped from Chloe. He looked down to find her eyes closed, and as he listened, her slow, deep breaths, told him that she was asleep. Pulling her closer to him, Clark closed his own eyes and let sleep take him.

But when morning came, their peaceful existence would be shattered, as they both reverted back to their familiar routines. They had grown accustomed to their old lives, him pining over Lana, and her pining over Clark. They had both felt safe in their characters, anything could happen and they knew how to react, how everyone expected them to react.

Clark started to feel depressed over Lana and Chloe would be there to comfort him. Chloe got into trouble and Clark was there to save her. This was how it had been, this was how it had to be. Neither one had yet gathered up the courage to step out of their safe life of normalcy. Step into unknown situations and be forced to learn how to deal with their feelings instead of burying them. They just couldn't do it.

Chloe knew all this as she woke up in Clark's strong arms. It washed over her, shocking her into action like a bucket of ice cold water. She gently removed Clark's arms from around her. The sun had not yet risen on this dreary Saturday morning. She debated staying until he woke up, trying to talk this out.

She imagined sitting up in the loft with a coffee mug in her hand, watching the sun rise. He would come up behind her and wrap his arms around her. She would turn her head and he would taste the coffee on her lips. They would sit and talk about how their lives would be, how they would deal with all of this. But she wasn't ready for that yet, she might never be.

So she tip-toed to the laundry room, and took her clothes from the dryer. Changing fast, she left Clark's shirt in his room. She was almost out the door, she knew she only had a few minutes before Martha got up to make Jonathan his breakfast. But something stopped her.

One ray of golden sunshine shone on Clark's sleeping face and she was hypnotized. As if pulled by some invisible force, her feet carried her across the room. She hesitated, leaning over him. She gently brushed his thick, brown locks out of his eyes, and she softly pressed her lips to his in an act of good-bye.

"I love you," she whispered.

One tear made it past her defenses, it dripped from her nose, and landed on his forehead. Not daring to wipe it away, she left it as evidence of her departure. Quietly shutting the door behind her, she ran to her car. Wincing at the noise her engine made, she headed out of there.

Clark bolted upright on the couch, suddenly aware that something was wrong. He felt the moisture on his forehead and removed it with one finger, gently he licked it off. Tasting the saltiness, he realized it was a tear, and most likely, it was Chloe's. He ran to the window, and saw the tire tracks her car had made in the mud as she'd left.

He folded the blanket and returned it to its original position, removing the evidence of what had happened here. Going up the stairs to his room felt like it took eternity, each step seeming to finalize his despair. But he realized as well as she had, they had been set in their old lives so long, to try to change everything now would be mental suicide.

Collapsing on his bed, Clark felt as though he didn't have the strength left to stand, and he closed his eyes against the reality of it all. Then he felt the fabric of his shirt beneath him. Reaching for it, he brought it to his face. Resting the soft cotton against his cheek, he could still smell the remnants of Chloe's scent. Her strawberry shampoo, her favorite lotion, and unbelievably, the faint smell of coffee.

He heard his mom get up, and start making breakfast. Followed, in a while, by the sounds of his dad getting dressed. He heard them talking, and was unable to make out the words, but he refused to use his abilities to understand what they were saying. He was too tired, so he just laid there, and listened to the sound of his own breathing.

He listened… and waited. Waiting for what he wasn't sure, something to symbolize that this day was different maybe. Maybe the sound of Chloe's voice, her footsteps, her laugh as his mom told a joke. Her teasing melody as she made fun of him for something or another. Something to tell him that she was here, she was back, and he could wake up to her pretty face. Anything to tell him that today was different.

Another possibility entered his mind. Perhaps, the absence of all that, was telling him that today, was just another day. Chloe wasn't coming back, last night had just been a fluke, a dream, a fantasy. Maybe this was his sign that he needed to get back to reality. Unwilling to give up so easily, Clark stayed there, listening for something to tell him that reality wasn't going to be so harsh today, that today, was going to be different.

But nothing came, so he got up, got dressed, and went down to tell his mom good morning. If no one would tell him today was different, he would make it normal instead. Because if things went back to the way they were, he could still function, he could still get up every morning and know that today held no surprises. He would know how to act and react and what to say and when to say it. He would know how to be himself…or at least the Clark everyone expected him to be.

Chloe sat in her favorite chair, in her favorite room, with her favorite mug, and her favorite blend of coffee. She sat there like any other normal Saturday, her dad left for work, and she kissed him on the cheek as he left. But as she watched the sun finish rising, she knew that today was anything but normal. Somehow, she needed to make it normal. So she listened to her normal kind of music, and ate her normal kind of breakfast. She got dressed in her normal clothes, well, at least normal for her.

She attempted to make this day normal. Because when things were normal, she could function. If things went back to the way they were, she could still get up to face another day at the dreaded high school she went to. She would know how to act and react, what to say and when to say it. She would know how to be herself…or at least the Chloe everyone expected her to be.

Three days later…

Clark paced back and forth in the loft, wringing his hands and running them through his hair like a madman. He couldn't stop thinking about her, couldn't stop picturing her face. She had been on his mind perpetually since he'd woken up on Saturday, after she'd left. If he wasn't already thinking about her, everything around him caused his thoughts to bring her up again. It had never been this bad before, I mean sure, once in awhile it had happened.

She'd worn something especially revealing and sexy. She'd remained in close physical proximity for a second longer than he could handle. She'd done something that had required her to touch him, or him to touch her. And he had been lost for an hour, maybe two, before he gained control of himself. Before he reminded himself that it was Lana he wanted, and not his best friend, Chloe.

Now, Monday night, or maybe it was already Tuesday morning, he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened on Friday. This time…this time he had completely lost control of his own mind and body. He'd thought it would get better when he went back to school and saw her again. Once he saw her compared to Lana, he would go back to thinking about Lana and not Chloe.

It had completely backfired…

Clark had come to the conclusion that the Torch office was entirely way too small, or maybe just too full of stuff. Because everytime Chloe had to go and get something from a file cabinet, or from the printer, she brushed by him.

They had been doing fine up until now. Clark had stared after Lana every chance he got. Chloe had played her role as the diligent friend to perfection. Now, Clark felt as if he was about to ruin it all.

But the blame couldn't fall squarely on just his shoulders. Chloe was wearing this short, little black skirt, with knee high black boots, and this, little red, off the shoulder, silky top. She looked incredibly sexy. Clark couldn't stop staring, it wasn't his fault.

Everytime he looked at her she seemed to glow, Lana just seemed dull in comparison. Her voice was a captivating melody, while Lana's was just abroken old record. Everything about her was different, and yet, Chloe was exactly the same as she'd always been. She hadn't changed. It was him, he was the one who had changed.

Chloe was working on her editorial, and was focused intently on her computer screen. Or so it appeared. All day Chloe hadn't been able to stop thinking about what had happened on Friday. Normally she would think about Clark throughout the day when she saw him or was reminded of him by something. But now it was as if he was all she could think about.

She had been able to pull off her best friend role with difficulty, so much so that she was considering taking up acting if - God forbid - journalism didn't work out. Now, in the Torch office, she could almost feel his body heat in this cramped little space. But she had been doing this for years, trying not to show her emotions in front of Clark, so she was a master at it. Today was just a little more challenging than most.

Chloe got up to go check on the printer…and Clark's article. Clark saw her coming and physically stiffened, trying to prepare himself for the chewing out he was about to get for not being done with his article. He was prepared for what she would say…but he wasn't prepared for what she did.

Leaning over his shoulder, she looked at his article. As if her face being inches from his wasn't enough, Chloe suddenly spotted a mistake in his work. For a minute she was able to forget about Clark as she went to correct his error, unfortunately, Clark wasn't so lucky.

Chloe sat sideways on his lap before Clark could blink, her hands flew over the keyboard as she typed. Clark held his hands up in the air, unsure of where to put them. He leaned backwards in an effort to touch Chloe as little as possible. But he leaned too far, and with a squeaking groan, the chair toppled over.

Clark landed on his back with a muffled thud, but Chloe was much luckier. She, had the pleasure of landing directly on top of Clark. This was a very awkward position for them both, Clark had automatically wrapped his arms around Chloe to catch her, and Chloe had put her hands out to catch herself. Her hands had landed on either side of Clark's head, and her face was just mere inches from his.

They both just laid there, unsure of what to do. Until Clark's hand started inching up Chloe's back, up her neck, until his fingers tangled in her hair. Chloe's breath hitched as he started to pull her head down to his. This wasn't supposed to happen, this hadn't been part of the plan, this was so not good.

Her mind was screaming at her to get up, to pull away, to leave the room. But her body was telling her that this was great, that Clark felt great. She had waited for this for so long and now that Clark might actually kiss her for real, she couldn't give in to him. Because her mind was telling her that, although this clumsy Clark was nothing like the man that had almost kissed her in the Torch office before, it could still be another trick. Her body was still telling her that, at the moment, Clark was anything but clumsy. His hand was so sure as it guided her towards his lips.

Clark, meanwhile, had already stopped listening to his mind, and was focused solely on what his body was telling him. And boy was it telling him things, it was screaming that Chloe was on top, of him. Her breath was hot on his face, her hair was soft underneath his hand, and the skin on her back was shuddering under his dancing fingers. Her skirt had ridden up slightly, and he had never seen so much of Chloe's legs. The sensations he was being bombarded with were fantastic. But it wasn't enough, he had to have her again, he had to taste her lips once more, he had to.

Just as he was about to have his wish, just as Chloe was about to give in, just as everything was about to spin out of control, the doorknob turned. And who else should walk in but Lana.

Clark shuddered with that memory. They had not been able to provide Lana with a very good explanation for why him and Chloe were entangled on the floor. But that was beside the point.

Clark couldn't get rid of the image of her face, so close to his. He couldn't get the taste of her off his lips, or the sensation of her off his skin. He couldn't free himself of her scent, her warmth, her feel. He had come home and taken a cold shower, tried to wake himself up. But it hadn't worked. His body was still reacting to her long after she'd been his to hold, his to touch…Fire raced up his spine as the memory overcame him again.

"Ahh!" Clark growled with frustration.

Nothing was working! This was how he had ended up here, pacing like a crazy person in his loft. He couldn't concentrate, couldn't think clearly, and he was having serious issues with his heat vision. Clark knew he couldn't go through life like this, he would end up hurting someone. He could think of only one thing that could possibly help. But everytime it came up he cast it aside. It was crazy. It was insane. It was insane.

Now it had to be almost three in the morning and he was no closer to sleep than he had been four hours ago, when his mom had told him to go to bed. Finally he gave up, he had to do something, and his mind kept circling back to that one idea. So he took off, down the stairs, down the driveway, down the road.

He was going to see Chloe.

Chloe was in only slightly better shape than Clark was. Because she had dealt with this before. Her pillow was used to her tears, her room was used to her muffled sobs, and her mind was used to the minuscule hours of sleep. Her heart was used to the constant beating, the constant breaking and mending.

The one thing she was not used to was the memory of his hands on her, the feel of his hot skin. She had never felt his hand on her skin like that before. It was giving her serious problems. The skin on her back still burned from where his hand had been, her lips still held the taste of his. And every damn time she closed her eyes she saw his dark ones, staring back at her, full of want, full of lust. Her body was aching to feel him again…and she couldn't stop it.

She wished that she had never fallen in love with Clark. Everything would be so much easier that way. She wished she'd never stayed there on Friday. She wished she'd never told him her little secret, she wished she'd never kissed him.

But then she stopped herself. Because she wouldn't give up that kiss for the world. To be held in his strong arms as he kissed away her tears was the one memory she would cherish forever. More tears began to fall as she realized that she would never feel that again, would never feel him again.

Her break with the world into her own little one full of despair was interrupted by a small thud. Chloe froze, unsure of where this noise was coming from, what it could be.

Thunk.

There it was again. Wiping away her tears quickly, Chloe's curious nature got the better of her. She stood up and went to her window, the apparent source of the sound. Opening it, she was met with a sight she'd never thought she'd see in a million years.

At her window, throwing rocks, at three in the morning, was none other than Clark Kent.

"Clark?" she said in disbelief.

"Chloe!" he replied, desperation in his voice. Chloe ran downstairs and opened the front door, not at all surprised that Clark was standing there when she did. She grabbed his hand and dragged him upstairs to her room.

"Clark what are you doing here? Aren't you freezing?" she said in a hushed, worried tone.

All Clark had on was jeans and a white T-shirt, and it wasn't exactly summer outside. As soon as they were in her room, safe from discovery by her dad, Chloe shut the door and turned to face Clark.

"Well?" she said expectantly. Clark just stood there, looking at her, frozen in place. His hand was still burning from when it had clasped her small one. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't think of anything to say. So he did the only thing he was capable of at that point in time. Clark stepped toward Chloe and took her head in his hands.

"Clark what are you do-"

But Chloe never got to finish her sentence, because Clark was suddenly kissing her. His mouth pressed against hers with a passion Chloe couldn't ignore. He ran his tongue across her lips and they parted of their own volition to grant him access. As Clark wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer, Chloe lost it. She threw her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with just as much vigor.

They pressed against eachother as their bodies reacted to the contact, to the heat, to the passion. Chloe backed up, and her knees buckled as her legs came into contact with the bed. She pulled him with her, down, onto his knees on the floor, while she sat on the bed.

Clark's hands made their way up her back, underneath her shirt. Her skin burned with a fire she'd never felt before, and his hands transferred the feel of her skin back to the rest of him. And the rest of him longed to feel it too. Clark cursed his all-too-human requirement for air as they teetered on the brink of losing all reason. He wanted to lose himself, wanted to lose himself to the sensation of Chloe's skin, to the taste of her lips. He wanted to, he needed to.

But the small part of reason left within him knew that they couldn't do this, and as the need to breathe surpassed his physical need for her, Clark slowly pulled back. He pressed his lips to hers one last time before he tried to pull away, his attempt was halted as Chloe tightened her grip on his neck.

"Don't you dare," Chloe breathed, "You are not going anywhere after that Clark Kent!"

Her voice was breathless but forceful, she was sick of his Jackal and Hyde routine, it was almost as bad as his savior complex. Clark nodded his head, still breathing heavily, and Chloe let her arms slip off him. He shivered, already missing her warmth, and Chloe wrapped her arms around her middle, missing the strength of his arms.

She took one more deep breath, trying to regain her wits, scattered as they were after his kiss. Clark wasn't helping any as he placed his hands on her thighs. The silence was deafening, but neither one could think of anything to say.

"You," Clark finally whispered.

"What?" asked Chloe, confused to the point of anger.

"It's you," Clark said again, slightly louder. "My weakness…is you."

"But Lana-" started Chloe, confused again.

"Forget Lana! I'd always said she was the girl of my dreams…but you…you are the girl of my wildest fantasies. I just…I could never love her…"

Clark's voice held a note of desperation as he spoke, he wanted her to understand, he needed her to understand. Chloe just stood there, shocked, as Clark continued, unable to stop now that he had started.

"It's always been you Chloe! No matter how hard I tried to fight it, no matter how hard I tried to lose interest in you, it just didn't work. You're just too amazing to let go. I told myself that you were my friend, just my friend, and that after spring formal we couldn't try that again. But thoughts of you just wouldn't leave me the hell alone! And after Friday…Chloe I can't take it anymore…I feel like…" Clark growled with frustration, and ran his hands through his already messed up hair.

"I feel like, if I'm not with you, I'm not really living. Everything loses its color, food loses its taste, and nothing seems as bright and bold as it should be. Nothing except you…you are my world Chloe, you always have been. That's why I never told you this before, if I lost you, I don't know what-" Clark stopped as Chloe put a finger to his lips, smiling.

"You will never lose me Clark, ever."

She smiled up at him again, her eyes shining, her face glowing and Clark smiled back at her, at hearing his own words thrown back at him. Clark wrapped his arms around her and she wrapped her's around him. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and Chloe's smile grew. When they pulled back, Chloe took his hand and helped him up to sit on the edge of the bed beside her. She laughed softly when she glanced at the clock.

"Clark it's after four in the damn morning, I have to get up in three hours, and you have to get up earlier than that. What are we going to do?"

"Play hooky?" said Clark, grinning playfully at her. She hit his arm in response, not believing he'd say something like that.

"Clark Kent? Suggesting we do something that's against the rules? I think I may be a horrible influence on you…"

"Well then, I guess I'm going to be bad…"

Clark suddenly lifted Chloe from the bed and placed her on his lap, straddling his legs. He leaned in with a smirk and started kissing her neck. She moaned softly as he pressed harder. Clark took that as motive to keep going and Chloe's breath hitched as his teeth grazed her skin, she fought to keep her sanity. She gently removed his hands from her waist, and leaned away from his lips as they continued their path across her shoulder.

"Clark," she whispered. "As much as I'm enjoying this, one of us has to be rational, and it apparently isn't going to be you for once." Clark looked at her, mock pouting.

"Don't give me that sad puppy dog look, my Dad is downstairs sleeping, and I don't think he'd be too happy to be woken up at four A.M. to find you making out with me on my bed."

"Okay, okay," said Clark, giving in.

"Good," said Chloe, attempting to get off Clark's lap. But Clark put his arms back around her, securing her in place.

"Fine, fine, we'll compromise," said Chloe, her smile matching Clark's. She settled back into place and wrapped her arms around his neck, absentmindedly playing with his hair.

"So what are we going to do?" she asked him seriously.

"Go to Metropolis for the day! Just beg your Dad, tell him you need a day off, and tell him that I'm going to protect you," said Clark, trying to convince her.

"At this rate, the only person I'm going to need protection from is you!"

"I like the sound of that!" Chloe laughed as Clark's eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Oh, no I've created a monster…anyways what about your parents?"

"Oh they'll say yes I'm sure, as long as I do my chores before I go."

"Which brings up another question, how did you get here?"

Chloe looked at him, expecting an answer, the reporter in her refusing to let this one go. She hadn't heard a truck pull up or anything, he had to get here somehow. She sighed at his hesitation, but didn't back down. Clark was going to answer her this time, even if she had to kiss him into senselessness before he told her. Which, admittedly, didn't sound so bad.

"Uh…umm…" said Clark, trying to avoid her piercing gaze.

He had to make her forget about this one, he just wasn't ready to tell her everything yet. That might be too big a blow to hand her at four in the morning. But trying to make Chloe forget about something was like trying to stopping a train. Which he could do…so he could do this right? Clark looked at her again, oh crap, she didn't look anywhere near ready to drop it. Maybe if he kissed her again…

"Chloe! I'm sorry if I woke you honey, but the Kent's called and Clark is missing, have you seen…" Chloe's Dad trailed off as he opened the door.

"You guys have some serious explaining to do," he said sternly. Both teens immediately jumped up and Clark shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Good morning Mr. Sullivan," tried Clark.

"Dad can we go to Metropolis today?" asked Chloe fearlessly. Clark's mouth fell open, followed by the same reaction from Gabe. Chloe looked from one to the other.

"What?"

The End

oh my gosh, you people have no idea how many times I've revised and edited and re-revised this thing. I must have read it at least fifty times! so I hope it was great! was it? please review and tell me if it was…or even if it wasn't.