Four Times Clark Caught Chloe When She Fell...And One Time She Caught Him

1.

Staring at a rushing, muddy river that was over a hundred feet below did nothing to ease the vertigo Chloe felt at being on such a narrow, creaky swinging bridge but she had no choice.  She either pressed on or the —whatever the hell it was —was going to get her. The creature stood at the entrance to the old and rotting swinging bridge staring at Chloe with longing. It wailed mournfully, afraid to come after her but longing to act on its bloodlust to kill her.

Chloe was half way across now and she knew that if she could just press on the creature would forget about pursuing her. It didn’t want to even step onto the bridge much less cross it to get at her. She took another step, gently putting her weight on the next board. It felt soft beneath her foot and she could hear it creak despite the roaring of the water below. She vowed that the next time a story came anywhere near a jungle she’d pass it by.

Thankfully the board held. She moved to another when she heard the plaintive wailing of the creature behind her change pitch. It went from sounding mournful to sounding amused. Chloe dared a glance around and saw that the things razor sharp talons were cutting into the ropes that acted as hand rails. The one to her right fell away, nearly upsetting her balance.

“Oh no,” she said.

The thing made quick work of the other railing rope. It too, dropped away.

“Oh, God…”

It knelt, clawing madly at the ropes that held up the boards. If even one of them broke she was heading for the drink.

“Fuck me,” Chloe said and took off running for the other side, tossing caution to the wind. Only there was a problem—another of the same creatures was on the other side, hacking away at the planks as well.

“Clark!” Chloe screamed, though she doubted it would do any good. She was simply too far away for him to hear her. He was in one of the villages, questioning the locals about the creatures that came into their midst at night and stole their elderly and very young for food. He was, she realized, about a hundred twenty miles away. He’d never hear her and she doubted she could survive a hundred plus foot drop, even with her unique meteor power. Still, she continued screaming, her heart racing, scared to death.

“Clark! Help me! Clark!”

The bridge gave way and there was nothing but air under Chloe’s feet. She began to plummet toward the churning river below. Half way down something black and torpedo-like came flying through the air towards her. She thought perhaps it was one of the creatures having gotten over their fear of the water but whatever it was clutched her tight. She looked up into the stunning blue eyes of Clark Kent.

“Take a breath,” he said.

She did just as they hit the water. Somehow he absorbed the impact. It felt to Chloe as though she’d only jumped a few feet from a diving board.

They were on land in seconds, Clark holding her in his arms.

“You heard me from over a hundred miles away?”

Clark smiled. “I keep my ears open for you.”

“Aww,” she said, touched.

“I have to. You’re always getting yourself into trouble.”

Chloe slapped him on the arm.

2.

“Okay, just stay calm.”

Chloe backed away from the gunman, staring into the black hole of the muzzle. It was amazing how big and deep that relatively tiny hole could look when you were just waiting for a bullet to fly out of it and put an end to your life.

“I don’t want to shoot you,” the man said.

Chloe nodded. “I don’t want to be shot. We’re on the same page there, at least.”

“But I will if you don’t get into the elevator. Now.”

“Could I at least ask why—”

“NO! Now!”

“Okay, I’m going. Keep your hair on.”

“Back up, don’t turn around.”

Chloe did as told, stepping onto the small, open service lift used to haul workers from one level of the warehouse to the other. The gunman pushed a button and the lift began to rise. Chloe kept her hands where he could see them. When the lift stopped they were over thirty feet above the warehouse floor.

“Jump,” he said.

“What?”

“Jump, head first.”

Chloe snorted. “No way.”

“Do it or I’ll shoot you.”

“We’re thirty feet up. I jump headfirst—”

“You’ll die. You’re supposed to, only it has to look like an accident.”

“Who’s paying you to do this?”

“None of your business and no, I won’t take more money from you to spare you.”

“I wasn’t about to offer you a single cent,” Chloe said coolly. “And I’m not doing your job for you. You want me to go overboard  send me over yourself. I’ll be damned if I go without a fight.”

“Do you want to get shot?”

“That’s better than falling to my death.”

He lunged for Chloe, moving faster than she’d expected. Much faster, so that she didn’t have time to react. She knew, in that moment, that he was a meteor freak. She felt herself tip over the edge and into the air.

This is it, Chloe thought, waiting to hit the floor hard. Maybe she’d live. People had survived thirty foot falls before but she doubted she’d be among their lucky number.

But the hard landing didn’t come. Instead it was soft and springy. She opened her eyes and saw she was in Clark Kent’s arms.

“First rope bridges in Brazilian jungles, now warehouses?” Clark asked, grinning, but Chloe had a much more serious expression on her face.

“You saved me.”

“You’d do the same for me.”

3.

Chloe hated ladders, but if she was going to get to the escape she didn’t have a choice. It was climb the ladder or burn up in the flames that were going to burst through the wooden floor at any moment.

When she reached the top of the ladder she looked down. The floor was glowing and would collapse any second. If it did the ladder would drop too and her along with it.

Reaching for the crawlspace, Chloe managed to get a hold and hoisted herself up and inside. She heard the floor give way and there was a terrible rushing sound as flames shot past the crawlspace. It was stifling and she couldn’t get her breath. Covering her mouth offered some relief from the heat, and she pushed on. She had to get away from the fire somehow because the metal crawlspace was beginning to heat.

The temperature began to drop gradually. The metal was hot but not enough to burn, and a warm ocean breeze ruffled Chloe’s hair. She crawled as quickly as she could, sweat beading out of every pore on her body, and the casing for the old fashioned floppy disc, the huge ones that were standard in the eighties, dug into her side. It was the only proof she had to back up her story about a bombing that killed thirty people at a power plant in Metropolis in 1988. She had to keep it safe.

The floor panels began shaking. Chloe could hear the waves of the ocean and the exit was only feet away. She pressed on and crawled outside just as the structure behind her began to collapse. She was on a rock ledge. Fifty feet below was rocky, churning water.

Moving carefully, Chloe tried to maneuver herself toward solid ground, but the shaking of the abandoned lab that was collapsing was made it hard to balance. She felt her fingers begin to slip, and made a sound of fear. Her footing was also going.

“Oh, God,” she said. If she fell from this height onto the rocks below…she imagined fish making dinner of her body and shuddered. That shudder cost Chloe her finger hold and she toppled backward, screaming in fear and terror.

But the rocks didn’t bite into her flesh. Instead, she made a soft landing into a pair of very strong arms and looked up into the crystal blue eyes of Clark Kent.

“I liked the warehouse better,” said Clark. “At least I didn’t get my feet wet.”

“How did you know where I was?”

“I didn’t. I was paying for my groceries when I heard your distress. How am I going to explain my little disappearing act to Arnold?”

“Arnold’s seventy-two and has bad eyes,” Chloe said, smiling. “Just tell him you dropped your money and bent to pick it up.”

“And that woman in line behind me, who was flirting?”

Chloe frowned. “Take me back to the store with you. I’ll deal with her.”

4.

“If there’s one thing that I hate, it’s ladders,” Chloe said, carefully stepping up onto the stepladder in the loft so she could hang the paper rings she'd made for Halloween from the rafter by the railing. Clark had already put his end up and pushed the nail into the wood with his thumb. She had a hammer handy.

“Let me do that,” Clark said.

“I’m not helpless,” Chloe groused. “I can do it.”

“Fine, Miss Independence.”

Clark plopped down on the couch while Chloe balanced precariously on the step ladder. She needed to go up one more step. Moving carefully, she got both feet on the last rung and stretched out. She’d never been afraid of heights but vertigo almost overcame her when she looked down to the barn floor far below, where Lulu the cow was chewing hay contentedly.

“Ever wonder why they call sex a roll in the hay?” Chloe queried, beginning to hammer the nail in.

“I’m surprised you don’t already know. Probably because you roll around some during sex and some people were doing that in hay when the saying caught on,” Clark said, flipping through a Victoria’s Secret catalog. Chloe would have to ask him where he’d gotten it, though she wouldn’t have to ask why he had it.

“Lulu has her mouth packed with hat. I wonder why they like it so much.”

“Tastes good to them,” Clark said, turning the magazine sideways to get a better look at a fold out. “Any other questions?”

“Yeah. Where did you get that stupid maga-ahhhh!”
Chloe lost her balance and fell backward, toward the couch luckily, instead of the floor fifteen feet below. She heard the magazine hit the floor as she fell into Clark’s waiting arms.

“Why can’t all of your spills be this easy?” Clark asked, grinning.

“What fun would that be?” she asked, throwing his words from a year before into his face, and he laughed.

5.

Martha Kent had a lovely voice. She hummed along with Nat King Cole, singing about chestnuts roasting on an open fire.

“…Jack Frost nipping at your nose…” Martha crooned.

“You should sing professionally, Mrs. Kent,” Chloe said, putting the last of the chocolate chip cookies onto the plate. They were still a little warm, just the way Clark liked them. She took the plate over to him and set it down.

“Oh, no, I’m not that good,” Martha said sheepishly.

“You are too,” Clark said. “I used to love to listen to you sing Christmas carols with Dad by the tree.”

Martha ruffled his hair. “Now that he’s gone I’ll sing them with you instead.”

“Dad could sing almost as well as you, but not me,” Clark said, shoveling in his fourth cookie.

“Save some for us,” Chloe said and snatched three off the plate for herself later, while Martha did the same.

“Chloe, could you do me a favor and hang the mistletoe on the porch? I need to finish these labels.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Kent.”

“You’re not a little girl anymore. You can call me Martha.”

“That’ll take some getting used to,” Chloe said, and took the mistletoe lying on the counter onto the porch. There was already some hanging on the door but Martha was known to like giving people two excuses to kiss before they even got into the house.

“Why are you following me?” Chloe asked, looking back to see Clark had come out behind her.

“To catch you if you fall off the porch. You have lousy balance.”

“Ha-ha.”

She nailed the mistletoe up while Clark waited close by. It went off without a hitch. He was on the step below her, so they were fairly close to being eye to eye.

“See?” Chloe said, looking at him. “I didn’t fall this time.”

Snow was falling and melting in Clark’s hair, and he had the softest look in his eyes as he looked at her face, which was beginning to redden from the cold.

“No, but I have,” he said softly. Clark’s words didn’t surprise her. They’d been getting closer for months. Looks lingered, touches were more frequent, and Clark insisted on sitting close enough to her for their bodies to touch whenever possible.

Chloe felt his big hands come to rest on her waist, and he pulled her close.

“Then I’ll catch you,” Chloe said, ready for them to take the next step in their relationship, to go from friends to lovers. She put her arms around his neck.

One of his hands caressed her back as he gazed at her, taken with her beauty. “You’re beautiful, Chloe,” Clark said. “I love you.”

Standing under the mistletoe, Clark kissed pulled Chloe close and kissed her slowly, deeply.