Blackberry
27th October 2004, 04:49
Stolen Car
A/N: Songfic; PG-13 (for adult situations and language); Stolen Car (Take Me Dancing) by Sting. an Alternate Universe fic; Lex and Chloe are living on the streets... did this basically in one sitting. Unbetaed.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Sting music, Smallville... no money was made from this...
~~ o0o ~~
“Holy shit… Hey Chlo’, check this out!” Lex hissed enthusiastically.
His blonde girlfriend who had been staring at a nice sweater through a large glass panelling of an expensive shop turned to see what he was talking about. She, too, ended up swearing as she rushed over to where he stood. There on the curb was a sleek Lexus convertible; it glinted tantalizingly at them, as if pointedly taunting them. Want a ride? It seemed to be asking them in a low whisper.
Oh, what they wouldn’t give to try it out – feel the sleekness of the leather seats and see through the clear glass of the windshield… the fact of the matter was that they couldn’t even think of buying one – after all they lived off the streets, stealing clothes and money from those they mugged, staying in dilapidated warehouses, half awake, high as a cloud, empty-feelings afterwards but with each other so not so cold in the end of the day because they keep each other warm with love and much needed body heat…
Lex looked up from the sleek vehicle and checked the dark street. Neon lights flashed, but not a soul – other than them – was on the street. A strange feeling overtook him and he grabbed Chloe’s shoulder – startling her from her trance – and grinned mischievously, flashing his yellowed teeth.
“What do you say I hotwire this ride and we take it for a spin?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.
Chloe stared at him dumbly for a moment before she, too broke out into a full-fledged smile. “Check if it’s got the alarm first… I don’t want to have the cops after us. Remember the last time we were in jail…” He growled at her comment, recalling that the other men started hitting on her. No, the accommodations weren’t the problem; it was the people in it. Damn them for trying to mess with his woman.
He went to the side window and checked for a flashing light. None. Too damn trusting in sketchy neighbourhoods… what is the world coming to? He laughed at the thought and opened the door. It clicked quietly and gave way to his insisting hands. Chloe giggled in delight and clapped her hands together. She got in shotgun, revelling in the wondrous smoothness of the leather seat. Lex made his way around to the other side popped open the hood and went to work.
They were rushing down the street on a hot summer night in the sleek convertible in no time at all. The bald man glanced over to his companion and the same thought crossed their minds at the same time: poor, but in a rich man’s car… They smiled at each other and Lex brought his eyes back to the street with the adrenaline flowing in him.
~~ o0o ~~
Late at night in summer heat. Expensive car, empty street
There’s a wire in my jacket. This is my trade
It only takes a moment, don’t be afraid
I can hotwire an ignition like some kind of star
I’m just a poor boy in a rich man’s car
So I whisper to the engine, flick on the lights
And we drive into the night
~~ o0o ~~
Chloe fiddled with the buttons, trying to find some music that they’d like. She finally stopped at a station that played a song by ‘Sting’, bringing the sound up enough for it to be blasting in their ears but low enough not to grab anyone’s attention.
The song was not recognizable to either of them – listening to the radio wasn’t exactly something that came with living on the streets, but hey, they weren’t complaining that they weren’t able to hear the same cliché song played over and over again until you wanted to blow your brains out with a gun just to make it stop make it all stop!
… so you write it in a letter all the things you couldn't say and you tell him that you're never coming home…
As they drove on, they both drifted into their own little worlds – an alternate dimension where they were still privileged; where they hadn’t left their families, their legacies to the older generation; where he was a troubled billionaire and she was a used-to-be-journalist-but-now-your-his-wife. He could picture his office – a view of the skyline as the sun set – his desk a wide expanse; the room itself all monochrome and a picture of his family – two kids and his wonderful blonde wife… but it was a rough marriage… he was making bad business calls that Chloe didn’t want – what happened to wanting to help people? I thought you didn’t want to become like your father – and so they had drifted apart.
To the public they were a happy family – smile for the camera, hon; you’re their role model – in the midst of the press and privileged with money, but held down by his greed. In this world she’s not enough for him. and the Lex that sat in the stolen Lexus imagined frantic limbs on the same desk with the family picture. One pair was his. The other was of another woman – unidentifiable and looking for a quick lay, just as he was. There was no remorse in the way he took her. Greed makes you rot and rot; bad apple – and the release he experienced was dulled by the fact that he had to go back to the cold arms of his wife – the woman he had said he loved until she began to speak sense and he started to lose it.
The woman he was having an affair with whispered into his ear tantalizingly and he found himself growing hard again, needing more than one release – just to keep him away from the house with two screaming brats and a nagging blonde female bound to him by law… but he could always defy law. He was above the law… ah the wonders of money and power, he thought as he dove in for another fuck.
~~ o0o ~~
Oh the smell of the leather always excited my imagination
And I picture myself in this different situation
I'm a company director, two kids and a wife
I get the feeling that there's more to this one's life
There's some kind of complication, he tells her he's alone
Spends the night with his lover, there's a trace of her cologne
And the words of his mistress, as she whispers them so near
Start ringing in my ear
~~ o0o ~~
The Chloe in the stolen car found herself in the driver’s seat of a family car stopping just outside a private school. Her children – a beautiful girl with light brown locks and a strapping boy with red hair – were running towards her with a smile upon their faces. She in turn returned it, her face warming perceptibly, making her seem younger than she really was.
She temporarily forgot about her problems.
But as she pulled out of the school drop-off and the security van behind her followed, her thoughts went back to the troubling issues she and her husband were facing. It pained her to think how much he had changed – how he turned away from her good-bye kisses – why do you keep on insisting on doing that – and came home late from work only to be repulsed by her light touch upon his arm in bed. He had changed – become more and more wrapped up in the all-consuming crap that he said he would never succumb to.
She wasn’t stupid – yet he seemed to assume she was. I was swamped in paperwork that had to be finished, he insisted coldly just the night before he turned away from her and closed the bedside lamp on his side. It was as if he didn’t think she’d smell the female perfume that lingered on his skin; as if he didn’t think she would noticed the rumpled state of his clothing that only looked that way after sex.
The Chloe married to big-corporate-monster-Lex had blocked out the sounds of her two children – focused so much on questioning herself why she put up with his infidelity. He never even takes you out anymore – he doesn’t care – you’re just a thing; a possession utilized when under public scrutiny. Her stomach turned and she gripped the steering wheel harder. The traffic light ahead of her was red. The street was clear of cars… for the moment.
She stepped on the gas – her eyes trained at the road in front of her. Her mind barely registered the cries of her children as the cars from other lanes broke hard, beeping their horns in anger at her recklessness. The security van that was following her was lost in the chaos she left in her wake.
Love was what kept her there – insisting and being stubborn… but he was different; not the man she had married. Her vision blurred temporarily but she blinked rapidly clearing away the tears – allowing them to spill onto her cheeks in a sporadic stream.
There would be no dancing, no dinners, no more making tender love no more happy family for the public because the man was a monster not the decent soul that she had admired and felt so deeply for…
~~ o0o ~~
I imagine his wife, she don't look nothing lie a fool
She picks the kids up from some private school
She remembers what he told her, he was late and worked alone
But there's more than a suspicion in this lingering cologne
And the kids just won't be quiet and she runs a traffic light
And drives into the night
Please take me dancing tonight I've been all on my own
You promised one day we could it's what you said on the phone
I'm a prisoner of love always hid from the light
Take me dancing, please take me dancing tonight
~~ o0o ~~
Lex stopped at the stoplight, quietly listening to the song playing on the radio, tapping to the beat and shaking his head lightly. Chloe glanced at him, and frowned slightly.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked quietly.
With a sidelong glance, he gave her a warm smile. “Just thinking… oddly… that I’m glad we’re not rich…”
She nodded and stared out into the night. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“I love you, Chloe,” he stated in a bare whisper after a few seconds of not speaking.
“Love you, too, Lex,” she answered confidently.
The stoplight turned green and they shot the car down the clear road ahead of them – not caring about what material wealth they lacked – happy then that they had each other, the simplicity that came with being basically ordinary.
~~ o0o ~~
So here am I in a stolen car at a traffic light
They go from red to green and so I just drive into the night
[end]
so... what do you think? -_-;
A/N: Songfic; PG-13 (for adult situations and language); Stolen Car (Take Me Dancing) by Sting. an Alternate Universe fic; Lex and Chloe are living on the streets... did this basically in one sitting. Unbetaed.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Sting music, Smallville... no money was made from this...
~~ o0o ~~
“Holy shit… Hey Chlo’, check this out!” Lex hissed enthusiastically.
His blonde girlfriend who had been staring at a nice sweater through a large glass panelling of an expensive shop turned to see what he was talking about. She, too, ended up swearing as she rushed over to where he stood. There on the curb was a sleek Lexus convertible; it glinted tantalizingly at them, as if pointedly taunting them. Want a ride? It seemed to be asking them in a low whisper.
Oh, what they wouldn’t give to try it out – feel the sleekness of the leather seats and see through the clear glass of the windshield… the fact of the matter was that they couldn’t even think of buying one – after all they lived off the streets, stealing clothes and money from those they mugged, staying in dilapidated warehouses, half awake, high as a cloud, empty-feelings afterwards but with each other so not so cold in the end of the day because they keep each other warm with love and much needed body heat…
Lex looked up from the sleek vehicle and checked the dark street. Neon lights flashed, but not a soul – other than them – was on the street. A strange feeling overtook him and he grabbed Chloe’s shoulder – startling her from her trance – and grinned mischievously, flashing his yellowed teeth.
“What do you say I hotwire this ride and we take it for a spin?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.
Chloe stared at him dumbly for a moment before she, too broke out into a full-fledged smile. “Check if it’s got the alarm first… I don’t want to have the cops after us. Remember the last time we were in jail…” He growled at her comment, recalling that the other men started hitting on her. No, the accommodations weren’t the problem; it was the people in it. Damn them for trying to mess with his woman.
He went to the side window and checked for a flashing light. None. Too damn trusting in sketchy neighbourhoods… what is the world coming to? He laughed at the thought and opened the door. It clicked quietly and gave way to his insisting hands. Chloe giggled in delight and clapped her hands together. She got in shotgun, revelling in the wondrous smoothness of the leather seat. Lex made his way around to the other side popped open the hood and went to work.
They were rushing down the street on a hot summer night in the sleek convertible in no time at all. The bald man glanced over to his companion and the same thought crossed their minds at the same time: poor, but in a rich man’s car… They smiled at each other and Lex brought his eyes back to the street with the adrenaline flowing in him.
~~ o0o ~~
Late at night in summer heat. Expensive car, empty street
There’s a wire in my jacket. This is my trade
It only takes a moment, don’t be afraid
I can hotwire an ignition like some kind of star
I’m just a poor boy in a rich man’s car
So I whisper to the engine, flick on the lights
And we drive into the night
~~ o0o ~~
Chloe fiddled with the buttons, trying to find some music that they’d like. She finally stopped at a station that played a song by ‘Sting’, bringing the sound up enough for it to be blasting in their ears but low enough not to grab anyone’s attention.
The song was not recognizable to either of them – listening to the radio wasn’t exactly something that came with living on the streets, but hey, they weren’t complaining that they weren’t able to hear the same cliché song played over and over again until you wanted to blow your brains out with a gun just to make it stop make it all stop!
… so you write it in a letter all the things you couldn't say and you tell him that you're never coming home…
As they drove on, they both drifted into their own little worlds – an alternate dimension where they were still privileged; where they hadn’t left their families, their legacies to the older generation; where he was a troubled billionaire and she was a used-to-be-journalist-but-now-your-his-wife. He could picture his office – a view of the skyline as the sun set – his desk a wide expanse; the room itself all monochrome and a picture of his family – two kids and his wonderful blonde wife… but it was a rough marriage… he was making bad business calls that Chloe didn’t want – what happened to wanting to help people? I thought you didn’t want to become like your father – and so they had drifted apart.
To the public they were a happy family – smile for the camera, hon; you’re their role model – in the midst of the press and privileged with money, but held down by his greed. In this world she’s not enough for him. and the Lex that sat in the stolen Lexus imagined frantic limbs on the same desk with the family picture. One pair was his. The other was of another woman – unidentifiable and looking for a quick lay, just as he was. There was no remorse in the way he took her. Greed makes you rot and rot; bad apple – and the release he experienced was dulled by the fact that he had to go back to the cold arms of his wife – the woman he had said he loved until she began to speak sense and he started to lose it.
The woman he was having an affair with whispered into his ear tantalizingly and he found himself growing hard again, needing more than one release – just to keep him away from the house with two screaming brats and a nagging blonde female bound to him by law… but he could always defy law. He was above the law… ah the wonders of money and power, he thought as he dove in for another fuck.
~~ o0o ~~
Oh the smell of the leather always excited my imagination
And I picture myself in this different situation
I'm a company director, two kids and a wife
I get the feeling that there's more to this one's life
There's some kind of complication, he tells her he's alone
Spends the night with his lover, there's a trace of her cologne
And the words of his mistress, as she whispers them so near
Start ringing in my ear
~~ o0o ~~
The Chloe in the stolen car found herself in the driver’s seat of a family car stopping just outside a private school. Her children – a beautiful girl with light brown locks and a strapping boy with red hair – were running towards her with a smile upon their faces. She in turn returned it, her face warming perceptibly, making her seem younger than she really was.
She temporarily forgot about her problems.
But as she pulled out of the school drop-off and the security van behind her followed, her thoughts went back to the troubling issues she and her husband were facing. It pained her to think how much he had changed – how he turned away from her good-bye kisses – why do you keep on insisting on doing that – and came home late from work only to be repulsed by her light touch upon his arm in bed. He had changed – become more and more wrapped up in the all-consuming crap that he said he would never succumb to.
She wasn’t stupid – yet he seemed to assume she was. I was swamped in paperwork that had to be finished, he insisted coldly just the night before he turned away from her and closed the bedside lamp on his side. It was as if he didn’t think she’d smell the female perfume that lingered on his skin; as if he didn’t think she would noticed the rumpled state of his clothing that only looked that way after sex.
The Chloe married to big-corporate-monster-Lex had blocked out the sounds of her two children – focused so much on questioning herself why she put up with his infidelity. He never even takes you out anymore – he doesn’t care – you’re just a thing; a possession utilized when under public scrutiny. Her stomach turned and she gripped the steering wheel harder. The traffic light ahead of her was red. The street was clear of cars… for the moment.
She stepped on the gas – her eyes trained at the road in front of her. Her mind barely registered the cries of her children as the cars from other lanes broke hard, beeping their horns in anger at her recklessness. The security van that was following her was lost in the chaos she left in her wake.
Love was what kept her there – insisting and being stubborn… but he was different; not the man she had married. Her vision blurred temporarily but she blinked rapidly clearing away the tears – allowing them to spill onto her cheeks in a sporadic stream.
There would be no dancing, no dinners, no more making tender love no more happy family for the public because the man was a monster not the decent soul that she had admired and felt so deeply for…
~~ o0o ~~
I imagine his wife, she don't look nothing lie a fool
She picks the kids up from some private school
She remembers what he told her, he was late and worked alone
But there's more than a suspicion in this lingering cologne
And the kids just won't be quiet and she runs a traffic light
And drives into the night
Please take me dancing tonight I've been all on my own
You promised one day we could it's what you said on the phone
I'm a prisoner of love always hid from the light
Take me dancing, please take me dancing tonight
~~ o0o ~~
Lex stopped at the stoplight, quietly listening to the song playing on the radio, tapping to the beat and shaking his head lightly. Chloe glanced at him, and frowned slightly.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked quietly.
With a sidelong glance, he gave her a warm smile. “Just thinking… oddly… that I’m glad we’re not rich…”
She nodded and stared out into the night. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“I love you, Chloe,” he stated in a bare whisper after a few seconds of not speaking.
“Love you, too, Lex,” she answered confidently.
The stoplight turned green and they shot the car down the clear road ahead of them – not caring about what material wealth they lacked – happy then that they had each other, the simplicity that came with being basically ordinary.
~~ o0o ~~
So here am I in a stolen car at a traffic light
They go from red to green and so I just drive into the night
[end]
so... what do you think? -_-;