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View Full Version : Sand in my shoes - PG13 (Completed)



moultipass1
29th May 2004, 14:23
TITLE: Sand in my shoes
CATEGORIE: Chlex, futurefic, romance, songfic (kind of. I used Dido’s song “sand in my shoes”, but I didn’t write it like a song… you’ll see.) AU, forget what you know about the show, because in this, Lex never moved to Smallville.
RATING: PG13
A/N: you wanted a plot? Well… go look somewhere else cause it sure isn’t in here. It’s all fluff… So fluffy actually that it should be Clana! lol. Just hope it’ll give you a good time, if not because it’s a nice fic then because you’ll at least laugh, even if it’s at me! The only purpose of this fic is to use this song I love, please keep that in mind! Feedbacks craved :blinkkiss: (even if it’s to tell me how sickeningly sweet this is) :biggrin:

*

With a regretful sigh, Chloe pushed the door to her flat open and let her bag fall to the ground with a low sound. She let her gaze wander around the room, trying to find something, anything, that could remind her how she lived before. After a few seconds, she managed to shake herself out of her daydream, she got in the apartment that used to be so comforting, she pushed her suitcase with her foot until it wasn’t on her way to close the door anymore and she turned the four locks. She gave up on trying to convince herself that she was glad to be back and she stopped her mental mantra of “home sweet home” that sounded incredibly hollow even in her mind then she let herself fall on the couch, the only thing that was still kind of accessible in the flat. She’d wanted only one thing during the whole way back here: to lay down and sleep to forget for a few more hours, to pretend she was still there. But now that she could finally do it, she quickly realised she couldn’t fall asleep, so she sat up with a frustrated groan, wondering what do to. That’s when an idea came to her mind. After all, it usually worked, why not this time? She picked up the pen and the writing pad that lay on the wooden table between magazines of all kinds, attempts at writing and empty ashtrays and she started to write.

Two weeks away feels like the whole world should have changed but I’m home now, and things still look the same. I think I’ll leave it till tomorrow to unpack, try to forget for one more night that I’m back in my flat on the road where the cars never stop going through the night, to a life where I can’t watch the sun set. I don’t have time. I don’t have time.

A wry and tired smile graced her lips when she realised that, with her infamous absent-mindedness, she’d written the last sentence twice. Was her unconscious trying to tell her something? It probably was. Since she’d been taken at the Daily Planet, she hadn’t had even one minute to herself. Don’t misunderstand her: she loved her job, she knew she was born to do it and nothing else, but sometimes, like today, her lack of private life felt heavy on her shoulders. It was never really overwhelming, it was just a feeling of illness that always vanished after a few hours, a short depression when she allowed herself to think about it, or the irritating fact that when she wasn’t working, she had nothing to do.
Except that today, it was more than that, and she didn’t know why.

I’ve still got sand in my shoes and I can’t shake the thought of you. I should get on, forget you, but why would I want to? I know we said goodbye, anything else would have been confused but I want to see you again...

Reading what she’d just written, she let out a bitter and mocking laugh. She was deluding herself when she said she didn’t know why this day was different from the others. There was a reason, and she was aware of it.

Tomorrow’s back to work and down to sanity.

That mere thought was enough to make her shiver. Go back to her everyday life, even with the numerous adventures she often put herself in while investigating a story, sounded way too boring, given that she’d known what Heaven felt like, on an island in the Pacific Ocean.

Should run a bath and then clear up the mess I made before I left here.

One glance around her was enough for her to push this idea aside and out of her mind. The bath sounded good, even though her bathtub didn’t seem anywhere near as appealing as the almost transparent water she’d swam into during her holydays, but for the cleaning... She wasn’t Superman, it would take her more than a few minutes to tidy her flat enough so that it wasn’t this scary.

Try to remind myself that I was happy here before I knew that I could get on a plane and fly away from the road where the cars never stop going through the night to a life where I can watch the sun set and take my time, take all our time.

Had she really written "our"? Damn... he’d gotten under her skin way more than she’d thought. Of course, even before she met him, she’d always known that if she ever saw him it’d be hard to forget him. After all, he was someone you didn’t easily erase from your mind, and unless you had a good brainwash, there were chances that every single person he’d only crossed paths with remembered him. But she’d never thought she’d be that... addicted, that was the only word she could think of to describe this feeling.

I’ve still got sand in my shoes and I can’t shake the thought of you. I should get on, forget you, but why would I want to? I know we said goodbye, anything else would have been confused but I want to see you again...

And now she was beginning to say the same thing twice... that wasn’t good... that wasn’t good at all. Alarm, red lights, and run away not good. She’d studied a bit of human psychology for one of her papers, and if there was only one thing she remembered, it was that making a person write something down, asking them not to think about what they were doing, revealed a lot more than spending a few hours with them. When you don’t think, your conscience, the way Freud described it, let its guard down and doesn’t fully fulfil its role as a urge regulator, and what you try to keep inside eventually manage to get out. So, what did the fact that she’d written the same paragraph twice in less that fifteen minutes meant? She’d rather not think too much about it.

Two weeks away, all it takes, to change and turn me around, I’ve fallen. I walked away and never said that I wanted to see you again.

Ok. Alright. Fine. She’d understood. So, she wanted to see him again. No need to insist this way! A smile that everybody who knew her would have said was faked graced her lips. According to psychology, what did the fact that you argued with yourself like you were two separate people meant?
That you were going crazy.
If everything was fine, she’d soon start to talk to herself using the third person.

I’ve still got sand in my shoes and I can’t shake the thought of you. I should get on, forget you, but why would I want to? I know we said goodbye, anything else would have been confused but I want to see you again...

Ok, so, she was gonna stop the if-you-don’t-wanna-talk-about-your-problems-write-them-down-they-won’t-seem-so-big-anymore therapy.
It wasn’t working.
With a sigh that expressed her discouragement, she tore the paper away from the notepad, she crumpled it and she threw it in the general vicinity of the bin. It missed it and joined the dozen other balls of paper that stood for floor decoration in this area. Then she lay down on the couch, sure she wouldn’t fall asleep, but wanting to try anyway.

*

His lips made their way down the back of her neck while his hands slowly caressed her stomach. She let her back rest against his chest and let out a contented sigh. She felt him smile against her skin and, deciding not to point out to him that he was laughing at her, she closed her eyes, surrendering to the perfection of this moment. The sun setting before her, although wonderfully beautiful, wasn’t worth the feelings he was creating within her. She threw her head back, giving him better access to her throat. Understanding, he placed burning kisses where she’d offered her skin. She suddenly spoke up:
"I leave tomorrow."
She felt him tense. Then he took a long breath and managed to relax. She heard him swallow hard before he answered:
"I know."
She nodded and turned in his arms to take his mouth with hers in a passionate and desperate kiss. They didn’t need to say anything more.
Chloe woke with a start at the sound of a phone ringing. Lost, she glanced at the room around her for a moment and sighed when she realised she was in her flat. Then she took the phone.
"Chloe Sullivan speaking."
"Hey Chlo, it’s Clark here. So you’re back?”
"No, what you’re hearing’s my answering machine. What’s up?”
"Just wanted to know how it was."
"It was great. Look, I’ve just came in, I’ll call you back when I’m settled down, alright?”
Slightly ill at ease with the lie she’d just told her colleague, she hung up after hearing his “no problem, talk to you soon!” and she lay back down, trying to feel the happiness of her dream again. When she wasn’t able to do it, she briefly cursed him for messing up with her awake time and with her dreams, then she managed to find enough strength to get up and clear up a bit.

*

She’d get in her hotel room, she’d placed her suitcase on the bed and she’d gotten out to make the most of her first sunset since she’d left Smallville to never come back, five years earlier, when she was eighteen years old. Upon arriving close to the sea, she’d frowned when she’d realised she wasn’t alone. At this time, there was the restaurant’s first service for dinner and she’d thought she’d be alone on the beach. Deciding that this place was large enough for two, she’d kept walking until she’d had to kick off her shoes and she’d walked into the water for a few seconds. That’s when she’d glanced at the stranger for the second time, and she’d noticed he wasn’t a stranger. Well... he didn’t know her, but not many people didn’t know who he was.
"Lex Luthor… I thought you never took a vacation."
She’d seen him turn to face her, looking surprised that she’d spoken when her whole attitude a few seconds earlier clearly showed she wanted to be left alone. Then he’d smiled.
"I’d love to be able to tell you that it’s wrong, but sadly I have no personal life. I’m here for a deal.”
"Remind me to start doing business."
Then she’d turned away. She’d read somewhere, although for the life of her she couldn’t remember where, that the billionaire didn’t like it when people talked to him just because he was Lex Luthor, and she’d realised that this was exactly what she’d just done. Slightly ashamed, she’d made a move to leave the water and go back to the hotel, but he had extended his hand. After a short hesitation, she’d shaken it.
"I didn’t catch your name."
"Probably because I didn’t give it. I’m Chloe.”
"Chloe what?"
She’d smiled.
"Chloe will be fine."

*

Chloe shook her head, trying to get rid of memories that were way too sweet for her taste. Every time she pictured him, every time she heard the sound of his voice in her head, every time she remembered the nights they’d spent together, the urge to see him again became stronger, and she couldn’t allow it. From the first evening she’d spent with him, it had been clear: she was here for two weeks, he had still fifteen days left, it wouldn’t go any further. After the parting, they wouldn’t try to see each other again. Because she’d been afraid.

*

“You didn’t tell me where you come from.”
"New York."
She’d instantly cursed herself. It was a reflex she’d caught after her last love affair had turned to hell a few months earlier: she’d walk away before the relationship even had a chance to start. Like everybody else, she knew Lex Luthor lived in Metropolis. It had even been said, six or seven years earlier, that he would maybe come to the Smallville plant to run it, but this plan had been cancelled. By giving the name of a town far enough from Metropolis, she could avoid the risk of him still wanting to see her after their time together, she’d learnt enough about him in a few hours to know he was too much of a cynic to believe in long distance relationships.

*

She still felt bad about that. But when their romance had developed with a quick pace she wouldn’t have thought was possible, she’d convinced herself that this was the best thing to do: Lex Luthor was known to be a playboy, she refused to take the risk of being just another woman in his life. After the number of times she’d been played, when she’d thought she was in love and loved in return and she’d found out in the end that she had just been useful, or amusing, or at the best both, she didn’t feel like she could give this chance to a man again.
She’d been the one to set things straight from the start: it would just be a holydays thing for her.
And now she wanted to see him again.
Wistful thinking that would stay that way.
She’d even refused to tell him her last name, so in the unthinkable possibility that he wanted to see her again too, he wouldn’t be able to find her.
She regretted.
Bitterly.
But it didn’t mean she was going to go see him.
She was too proud to do that. Besides, she’d lied to him. During the course of their second week together, he’d told her that this was what he hated most: people who lied to him, either because they wanted to be what they thought he wanted them to be or because they wanted to screw him in a deal. During this conversation, she’d been awfully quiet. When he’d asked her what was wrong, she’d just answered that she’d received a call from her work earlier and that there was a problem that worried her. He’d found a way to take her mind off of it.
She still felt guilty because of what she’d said.
And she knew that if she went to see him, he’d be mad at her for telling him she was from New York.
So it was best if she forgot him and if she started to live like she used to again.
Not really a happy thought.

*

The morning after, as she was getting ready for work, she heard a knock on her door. Quickly checking her watch, she decided she had ten minutes to spare for the sales representative who was most likely behind the door. She unlocked it while saying:
"I’m warning you, I don’t have much t…"
She stopped when she saw who was here.
"Not even for me?"
She shook her head, trying to make sure that he was real, that he wasn’t just another piece of her overactive imagination. Her voice sounded shaky when she spoke.
"L… Lex?"
"Do you have any idea of how much an airline demands to reveal its passengers list? And of the number of Chloe Sullivan there are in the United States? Imagine my surprise when all the Chloe Sullivan from New York turned out to be brunettes, or over thirty...”
Still shocked, she didn’t answer. Then she seemed to get a hold of herself.
"What… what are you doing here?”
He shrugged.
"I wanted to see you again."
She almost jumped when she heard him say the words she’d written down the day before, the ones she’d said over and over again in her head from the moment she’d got on the plane that was taking her back home. She frowned suspiciously.
"Why?"
"Because I just spent the two most beautiful weeks of my life? Or maybe because since I got home I can’t seem to reason me into believing that it was just a short affair? Maybe too because we’ve been apart for less than two days and I was already missing you? Now, the question is this: are you willing to let the wall fall? I already did. It’s your choice.”
She opened her mouth to answer but realised she couldn’t form words, so she rose on her tiptoes and returned to the now familiar embrace of the man she hadn’t been able to get out of her mind for over two weeks. His arms closed around her as soon as he felt her lips on his, unwilling to let her go once more. When they pulled apart, he asked, smiling:
"Is that my answer?”

THE END

ruafair
29th May 2004, 18:50
That was just wonderful...... :wub: Well done :clap:

:chlexsign4:

Fiona

LaLa
29th May 2004, 21:09
:wub: ok, i'm in love lol u write beautifully (but u already know that :cool: )

this fic is wonderful, i have the dido's album and this song made me see a whole scenario in my head, but this one, is far more greater than the wacky stuff in my miserable mind lol :blush:

will there be a sequel? :crygreen: PLEASE! :worship2:

xoxo LaLa

ps: g l'impresion de connaitre li'dentité secrète de sydney bristow lol ma chère TP lol

hfce
30th May 2004, 00:40
oh that was beautiful.


Hope :chlexsign2:

sylvia
30th May 2004, 05:32
That was lovely, beautiful, chlexy and sweet, but definitely not sickeningly so. I loved it. :wub:

TheDragonLady
30th May 2004, 05:38
*Sniffles* If I get Lex as the prize, I'd put sand in EVERY pair of shoes that I own.

autumngold
30th May 2004, 06:57
Thank you for having Lex come through in the end!! This is such an excellent story!! I'm so glad that you wrote it, it totally made my day!! :chlexsign4:

absentia-varia
30th May 2004, 09:06
OMG!!
Really great!
I was going to write a Chelx to the exact same song!! LOL!
Coz I wrote a Gilmore Girls Trory fanfic to the this song as well..
I love Dido...
fantastic songs!

:chlexsign3:

Val
31st May 2004, 02:32
So I'm not the only person this song screams Chlex to? heh
I actually started writting a fic based on this song. It wasn't really a song fic because it was a long one and mostly just the first chapter had the lyrics on it, but yeah, still, the first chapter of mine is really similar to the first pat of yours! Its kinda weird heheh.

I really liked what you did with this! You inspired me to, maybe, finish that fic! Great job!

chloedreamer
3rd March 2005, 01:44
I was preparing myself for angst and was so happy that I was surprised by the end.

Krysia
3rd March 2005, 02:02
:wub: Oww, so sweet. I was so happy when Lex was behaind that door.
is the song you used the one by Dido? [ coz that's the song I now have in my head ;) ]

kitten
3rd March 2005, 04:21
:chlexsign1:

I have to smoosh this fic into a teddy bear and cuddle it whenever I feel discouraged about the show. It picked me up almost immediately and I'm so happy again.

Thank you for burying my bitterness for a little while. :blinkkiss:

starmoon
5th March 2005, 01:32
I like this story espally the way it ends that was just sweet. :wub:

bluengreenswmer
25th April 2005, 04:56
That was gorgeous. Wondereful, beautiful, come on guys, I need more adjectives...