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MeganM
30th October 2004, 16:40
Title: Old Enough
Author: MeganM, thefreeair5@msn.com
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Chlex. "You're on a completely different playing field now Chloe, remember that."
Distribution: Just let me know where
Disclaimer: Ah, to own Smallville and hire a team of crack writers to turn it into the great story it should be instead of the highly inconsistent disappointment it has turned out to be. A girl can dream though… a girl can dream.


~*~*~*~*~

Old Enough


Generalizations are terribly dangerous things which are to be loathed and dismissed.

Words to live by in Chloe's opinion, though she has recently allowed for some leniency in regards to this mindset given her decidedly special circumstances.

For starters, her current actions are rather typical to teenagers in general… or at least how the world views them. Yes, it's a stereotype. But even as she acknowledges this, she has to give credence to it the same way she finds herself nodding along with certain 'Small town' labels. Which is actually the second thing to factor into her special circumstances; the small-minded prejudices perpetuated against little corners of the country like Smallville are not only justified by said town, they're almost glorified.

It's quite sick, really, the way everybody seems to fit their specially crafted little cardboard cut-out. There is a lot less diversity as far as ideologies and general mindsets go than one would find in The Big City and it's become increasingly oppressive as the years drag on. The scarcity of enlightened minds is equally as disturbing as the fact that the few people who break the mold usually turn out to be psychotic. It takes it toll.

Chloe hates her freak-breeding, homicide-inducing, dream-stifling little town. She hates the weak little newspaper, the lack of a decent place to view new movies, the shoddy little bar near the outskirts, the godforsaken Talon. She hates the emotionally unavailable, passive aggressive, self involved "friends" she's accumulated during her ridiculously angst-ridden stay there.

… Or maybe she's just having a bad day.

Either way, the very atmosphere of Smallville was enough to push her away for awhile. It's not a town that is known for its happening social scene or wild nightlife. If one happens to be looking for a place to get killed, stalked, or injured by a psychotic individual on a meteor-rock high? The place to be. But for more normal forms of entertainment one must go elsewhere.

Like Metropolis for example. On a school night of all things, armed with a fake ID and fully prepared to use it.

It's so ridiculous, as she's been telling herself on the drive up, but somehow she just can't make herself care. If proving a point to an audience that's not even around to witness it is what it will take to get this out of her system, then damn it she's going to do it.

Pathetic? Yes. Necessary? Abso-fricken-lutely.

This is one of those times when her remarkably believable ID will come in handy, although it was initially purchased to provide access to places she would otherwise be banned from in her various investigations. People in bars sometimes have information she needs, and people in bars talk. It's an area where a serious reporter such as herself cannot allow pithy technicalities like a legal age restrict her.

She's chosen an establishment she has visited before for less recreational purposes; an upscale lounge frequented by mostly professionals. Contracts and proposals are discussed here over fine wines and Brandy, business people engaging in shop-talk in a comfortable atmosphere. Chloe got to know this place well while writing her ill-begotten column at The Daily Planet last summer, and wears a pin-striped business suit with a knee-length skirt to blend in.

She takes in the surroundings as she enters; young professionals amidst older boss-types, and Lex Luthor in a corner booth conversing with suit-bedecked men who are at least twice his age. The sight makes her smile slightly, she isn't surprised to see him here, but it's a dose of familiarity that comforts her somewhat. After what he's done for her this past summer especially, he makes her feel safe.

He doesn't notice her, occupied as he is but she doesn't mind, prefers it that way actually. She has no real desire to converse with him or anyone, she wants to 'enjoy' her bitterness and annoyance alone for awhile.

She strides up to the bar with practiced casual confidence that shows she belongs but doesn't really care that she does. The bartender isn't even a little skeptical while he looks her over, easily fooled by make-up, cleavage, and a fearless attitude. He grins amicably and flirts with his eyes while he asks what she'll have, and she orders a Pina Colada because it's somewhat exotic. And Chloe Sullivan refuses to order a plain beer if she's scoring an underage drink in a bar. It wouldn't be right.

Clark would have a plain beer, she thinks spitefully as she waits for her drink, And it would come with a plaid coaster. W[h]ine (pun intended) for Lana, preferably French and pretentious, and overrated.

Now she's just being a bitch, but she can't help but feel it's justified much like her irritation. After all, it's not like she asks for much from them. Lana wants to belittle the efforts she and her father made to include her in their family by trashing Chloe's trustworthiness and jetting off to Paris at a moment's notice? Whatever. Clark wants to gallivant around like a big dumb jerk and cheerfully take advantage of her skills? Fine. Not a single friend shows up for her goddamned funeral? Okay.

She smiles at the bartender as he delivers her drink, and studies it miserably.

But here she is with the straw that broke the camel's back. Would it kill her so-called pals, or her freakin' dad for that matter, to acknowledge her birthday? It's not the end of the world or anything, but it's a legitimate beef, she thinks. Here she's been feeling all neglected lately and lo! Her special day arrives and nobody feels like proving her wrong. How appropriate really, considering everything. Stuck in this stupid Molly Ringwald scenario except she's not sixteen, nobody's wedding is distracting anybody, and where the hell is her hot guy trying for the life of him to track her down?

"Is this seat taken?" a familiarly smooth voice pulls her from her musings, "Or are you breaking the law all by yourself tonight?"

"Lex." She tips her hat to the Universe for its impeccable comic timing. Even though, while he's definitely hot, it's not as if he had to jump through hoops to find her. But still. Har-dee-har.

"Done with the suits already?"

"We were just wrapping things up when you came in," he tells her, revealing that he did notice her when she arrived after all. Then with a commiserating smile in his voice, "So The Talon wasn't carrying what you were looking for tonight I take it."

"In a manner of speaking," she smirks at the drink she still hasn't touched. "The scenery gets a little old after awhile."

An afterthought upon remembering just who finances the place, "No offense."

"None taken," he sips an amber-colored drink and studies her questioningly, "You don't find it to be a refreshing change from a cramped safe-house all summer?"

"I had better company at the safe-house," she says, directing the statement to certain absent individuals.

Better company right this minute, come to think of it. She didn't want it initially, but she's glad Lex has come over to chat. Not only is it nice to be acknowledged, she appreciates the way he is with her. He coddles Lana and humors Clark but his interactions with her are always completely on the level. He treats her like an adult. She doesn't know if it's because of her "not-so-average-teenager" investigative skills, the very "adult" messes she finds herself in more often than she'd like, or that her bravado isn't entirely that. She suspects it has a lot to do with how she approaches life, and how it in return tends to kick the shit out of her. He sees that.

She grins ruefully; her apparent inability to do anything but wallow tonight seems rather lame with him present. Besides that, she hates wallowing. It's such a stupid waste of time which always breeds contempt and consequently leads to various acts of humiliation and more severe acts of moral compromise. She knows this from unfortunate experience.

But back to life and its sadistic determination to torture her… maybe Lex finds a certain camaraderie with her because of it. Granted, her troubles and pain really can't touch all the bullshit he's been through, but they do share their similarities. They aren't immediately loved and looked up to the way people like Lana and Clark are. They're oddities. Basically good people who find they have to prove themselves instead of receiving the immediate acceptance certain former-Talon owners, for example, enjoy.

She can win people over with her mega-watt smile and sweet-talking, he with his smooth social graces and disarming charm. But people don't want to believe in them, not at first. He has a past, and a father who is now a known murderer, and a heartless mogul before anybody knew the truth. She has a passion for truth that places her in situations where moral lines become blurred. And after being exposed to a meteor-boosted truth serum last year, wariness emerged not just from others as to how far she would actually go.

She shakes her head to clear it of such thoughts and turning to her companion, raises her glass in a silent toast to unexpected camaraderie and hanging out in grey areas. The drink is sweet enough, but the alcoholic taste is evident and she grimaces slightly.

"So what's the occasion?" Lex asks casually, taking in her situation with a subtle movement of his eyes.

"My underage solitary drinking?" she smiles wanly, "I've actually become an alcoholic. Impressed?"

"Quite," he smirks down at her, "Especially since this is obviously the first drink you've ever consumed."

"Second actually," she glibly replies, "But I'll concede amateur status nonetheless. You're perceptive as ever I see."

"In this case, you would have betrayed yourself to anybody who happened to be looking."

She sighs, and takes a longer sip this time. "I suppose it would have killed you to just take the compliment."

He lifts a shoulder in a non-committal, partial shrug and smiles enigmatically. "Why are you really here Chloe?"

"Celebrating the insensitivity and self-absorption of those I've been known to call my friends," she tells him, perhaps a little more bitterly than is necessary, "And my birthday."

"Well then I guess a 'happy birthday' would be appropriate." He's all politeness.

"Yes, it would be appropriate, wouldn't it?" she returns, "A happy birthday. I mean with all the times I've almost died since I moved to Smallville, I'd say reaching 18 is an accomplishment that should be joyous and fun-filled, wouldn't you agree?"

"Seems like a reasonable expectation," he agrees soberly, but there's a flicker in his eyes that suggests he is amused.

Chloe bristles. He's humoring her, and she's acting like a child so it's warranted. All gussied up in grown-up clothes, hanging out in a grown-up bar, drinking a grown-up drink for no other reason than to stick it to her "friends." It's about as passive aggressive as a person can get.

"You must think I look pretty stupid drinking alone, and illegally might I add, on my birthday." She sighs and swirls the ice in her glass.

"Actually," Lex smiles at her, "You look like you belong here. And in some parts of the world you would at 18."

"Hmm," she smiles back, "I like that. Maybe I'll move to one of those places."

"What and leave all the excitement of Smallville?" his tone is sarcastic in a perfectly deadpan manner only a Luthor can manage.

"I'll still have all the fond memories of my time spent there," Chloe replies with her own special brand of sarcasm, "There was the time I almost got killed Freshman year, followed by the time the guy of my dreams broke my heart, then I was almost killed some more, then my heart was broken again, then for a change of pace, I was almost killed. Then I got my heartbroken, which was a definite first… I could go on."

"That won't be necessary."

"And what about you?" Chloe puts on her 'enough-about-me' tone, "How does hanging with the freaks and geeks in Meteor Capitol rank on the nostalgia meter for you? And I do take into consideration the fact that your major life events over the past few years have involved broken marriages, murder attempts, and a brief stint at the ever accommodating Belle Reeve."

"That's what I like about you Chloe," he tells her, "You never allow petty considerations like tact interfere with an interview."

"Is that what you think this is?"

"It feels like one."

And this is what she hates about being her. She knows what she wants out of life; to expose the truth and be one kick-ass investigative reporter, which is good. But people know this and always automatically assume they're on the record, which is bad. Can't she for once have a freakin' conversation without being regarded with such obvious suspicion?

But then, she can't forget who she's talking to either. This is Lex Luthor after all, a man who practically has a birthright to be suspicious of everybody. Even friends. Even people he's protected in the past who could conceivably be friends with him at some point, and might even be friends with him now in a sense.

… If that makes any sense at all. But she's getting ahead of herself; she's still annoyed with him.

"Well it's not," she snaps, "I'm not in reporter-mode all the time and I'm not completely without boundaries believe it or not. God! Please be the first to give me a little credit."

"I do give you credit," he assures her in an appeasing manner, "And after successfully putting my father where he belongs, you've earned it."

Lex Luthor telling her in his own way not to get her panties in a bunch while he throws her a bone. She smiles in spite of herself, partially because she appreciates the gesture but mostly because of her own thoughts. That expression is so dirty… not that such a scenario would be a bad thing when it comes to him. Ahem.

"Well good," she sips her Pina Colada, "And since such formalities are obviously necessary with you, let me just say that this conversation is officially off the record."

"I should hope so," Lex regards her with a sly smirk, "I'd hate to have to divulge your indiscretions to any interested third parties."

"That's assuming anybody would actually be interested," she informs him, "Which is in no danger of actually occurring. In fact, I think it's safe to conclude that none of our mutual acquaintances would give a damn about my little pity party here."

"You're certainly keeping the spirit of said party alive," he raises his glass to her.

"Yeah well someone has to."

"I see."

He studies her for a long moment, and she tries not to be too unnerved. There's something about that patented intense gaze of his. It has the power to strip away everything until you lay bare before him, captured and exposed by those pretty blue eyes. It can be threatening and intimidating when the circumstances call for it, or it can be unfairly sexy and seductive. And sometimes… it's both.

She's about to turn away when he thankfully looks away first to address the approaching the bartender and tells him to put Chloe's drink on his tab.

"Lex, you don't have to-,"

"On your birthday," he interrupts, "You should never feel guilty for accepting a free drink."

"Duly noted," she drains the rest of her glass and grins sweetly, "So… you going to keep them coming?"

He smirks, "And continue to contribute to your wild night of criminal debauchery?"

"You don't have to merely contribute," she assures him cheekily, "You could join me."

"A tempting offer," he says without a trace of insincerity, watching her with blue eyes that suddenly seem less intense and more good-humored from where she's sitting. Was it her imagination, or did he just move a little closer? "But I have a better one."

"Oh really?" She smiles wider and edges a little closer, stopping only when she realizes that she's flirting.

It's not her fault, really. She's in close proximity with somebody whose very presence is seductive and now that he's taken her mind off of her misery long enough to really look at him, how can she help herself? The lighting is flattering and his quirked lips have never looked softer. It occurs to Chloe that 18 is the perfect age to lean over and kiss a man when caught in such a moment. After all, if she's old enough to vote, she's old enough to taste a mouth that's been out of High School for a few years.

… Which is not necessarily an observation she is comfortable with. Yes, the man is damned good-looking, but… well, it's Lex. If ever a budding crush needed to be cut off in its beginning stages, this is the one. She's fiercely determined to stick with her New Year's resolution from months ago which fervently banned exercises in futility as far as matters of the heart are concerned. She's been down a long, angst-ridden road with Clark that she does not need to repeat with another guy whose "just not that into" her.

And this guy in particular is so far out of her league it's as ridiculous as her current actions. So she leans away from him and raises her eyebrow in a manner that is strictly curious as opposed to coy while she waits for an answer.

"Let me take you home," he proposes and she tries not to deflate visibly, even as she feels a disapproving frown coming on.

"What's behind door number two, Alex?"

The lips she has now officially filed under 'kissable' seem to be stuck in that amused smirk he's been wearing for awhile now.

"I'm afraid this is the only door," he says, standing to offer her his arm, "And I haven't been called Alex since I was five."

No, she thinks, of course he goes by Lex. It's far classier than Alex, more masculine, a bravado-type name.

"Huh," she remains in her seat, "That was rather personal, Luthor, you sure you should have told me that? It just might make up my next headline."

"For someone so sweet-looking, sarcasm suits you well." His tone is dry, but the amusement hasn't left his eyes.

"I like a guy who knows his alliteration," she tells him, "But you'll have to do better than that for me to leave this bar with you."

He grins, "I could always tell the manager you're underage."

"You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?"

She narrows her eyes suspiciously, feeling increasingly petulant the more smug he reveals himself to be.

"You are ruthless," she informs him in a tone that's a little more flirty and a little less accusatory than she'd like, and his perma-smirk deepens.

Her flirting is entertaining him, she can tell, he's used to such behavior from girls and women though she's uncertain what category she falls under for him. All she knows for sure is that it doesn't phase him, the way it seems to frighten Clark. He isn't threatened by it, doesn't read things into it.

"So I've been told," he replies smoothly, "I like to think that if a goal is worth achieving, it's worth getting a little underhanded if need be."

"Very revealing," she raises her eyebrow, "And getting me home is a worthy goal?"

"Clark Kent isn't the only one who aids damsels in distress."

"Okay let's just get one thing straight," she leans towards him in a manner she wishes was more threatening, "I am not in need of a rescue here, nor am I in distress."

"The fact your friends abandoned you on your birthday isn't distressing to you?"

His lips are twitching now, as if he might start laughing, and Chloe wonders what he'd do if she punched him. Or kissed him. Or both. She shakes her head and removes herself from his personal space once again.

"It's irritating," she concedes. "But regardless my situation isn't exactly life-threatening, I brought myself here, and I can bring myself home. I don't need a savior."

"I think," he says seriously, "That maybe you need a friend right now."

She flinches inwardly. Okay, so she put the nerve right out there, but that didn't mean he had to hit it. She'd cry if she had less restraint.

"I think," she says mimicking his tone, "I need another drink right now."

Levity. Sarcasm and wit to mask vulnerability, every time.

"No you don't," now he's gently taking her arm, coaxing her off the stool she so stubbornly clings to. "Trust me, you'll regret it."

"Oh for-," she sighs loudly, completely put upon. "I'm 18 now Lex, perfectly capable of making that decision for myself."

"Not in the eyes of state law," he points out.

"Yeah well, who cares? I'm old enough to vote."

"That's true."

"I'm old enough to live on my own," she continues, feeling the need to prove something.

She's not a child anymore, wants him to pick woman over girl if he has to categorize her. It's apparent somewhere in the back of her mind that employing such a method to prove her maturity has the opposite effect. Like a child demanding to be allowed to tie her own shoes. Grown-ups don't need to speak of how grown-up they are.

"Good point," he continues to humor her.

"I'm old enough," she says deliberately, meeting his eyes. She wants to jerk him out of his smug mood, get a reaction, "To have sex with a grown man and nobody would care."

He raises his eyebrow at this, and studies her curiously. "I think you would care very much."

"You make it seem like such a big deal," she casually waves her hand, "As if I haven't done it before."

She's always been a convincing liar and she can tell by the way his eyes widen slightly that he believes her. Then she smiles wickedly and the jig is up.

"You're lying," he declares, amusement returning to his countenance.

"Yeah, but it's funny what people will believe." She lets him pull her to her feet this time, "Everybody is wary of me, like they don't know just how far exactly I'm willing to go in terms of ethics. Even my friends don't trust me completely."

She's said the magic words, Chloe realizes as she watches his expression lose its lightness and turn sober. She wanted him to stop being so damned smug, but she doesn't like the way his eyes have turned wistful. He can relate to her woes, on a much larger scale, it's obvious. Wasn't she just thinking about this when he first approached her, the similarities they share? The reluctance others feel to believe in them? Now she's the one who has hit a nerve.

"Look," she fishes her car keys out of her purse and holds them out to him, "If you're going to take me home, you're going to have to drive my car. I can't leave it in Metropolis."

The clouds clear up, and he smiles at her again, "Not old enough to drive your own car?"

"You said you wanted to take me home."

"Fair enough," he accepts the keys and once again presents his arm, but this time she takes it. "I knew you'd cave."

"Yes, well you always get what you want don't you?"

"Does it make it easier to dislike me to think that?"

No, of course he doesn't get everything he wants. Immaterially, anyway. In fact, she's willing to bet he's close to bankrupt as far as his intangible needs go. The thought makes her somewhat sad, and now she just wants to kiss him for that. She decides to set the record straight instead.

"I don't dislike you Lex," she assures him even as she's aware that this is not actually news to him. "In fact, while I don't exactly need one now, you are my savior. I owe you my life, you know that."

"You owe me nothing," he says, "We had a deal. My father for your protection."

"Ah, so the events of the summer were simply you holding up your end of the bargain," she eyes him, "Good to know our time together was a mere transaction to you."

"If that were true," his tone is placating in contrast with her obvious offensiveness, "I would have left you here."

"So you care about me." The idea pleases her more than it should and she calls up her New Year's resolution to counter it.

"Which car is yours?"

They're in the parking lot now, and while the question avoids confirming her previous statement, she lets it slide. She shouldn't have said such a thing anyway.

"Over there," she points in the right direction, "The red one."

It's no Ferrari or BMW, but it doesn't seem to bother Lex as he strides towards it. She follows and quickly falls into step next to him, unwilling to allow him to take the lead for reasons she can't even begin to sort out. It's a matter of control, Chloe knows that much, but she's too tired to analyze the mechanics of it.

They both stop beside the driver's side and he smirks at her position, "Change of heart already?"

"No," she tells him, "Force of habit."

Determined to remedy the situation, she moves to approach the passenger side, but he stops her suddenly by grabbing her hand. It's an oddly intimate gesture, palms connecting this way, fingers stroking hers gently. If he'd grabbed her arm, it would be different, more of a purposeful touch as opposed to this… caress. She catches her breath, New Year's resolutions flying from her mind, and watches him expectantly.

"What is it Lex?"

"My eighteenth birthday was rather disappointing too," he says unexpectedly and she wonders at the revelation.

"Why is that?" her tone is starting to take on a husky quality with the way he's looking at her and his hand in hers to encourage it. She feels… not quite normal. Could that one small drink be starting to kick in?

"It was… solitary," he explains, moving closer. "Like yours, but with more people around."

"So your friends at least showed up," she says feeling her eyelids get heavy as he draws nearer. Is he coming closer, or is she moving forward? She can't tell.

"No," he says, "I didn't have many friends then."

She licks her lips, "Am I your friend Lex?"

"You," he replies, "Are old enough to achieve results with your flirting."

"Results?" Does one drink cause such dizziness? Did she eat enough today?

And then all coherent thought leaves her mind because his lips are on hers, soft and dangerous, skillfully playing over hers. He navigates her mouth like he's been there before, tongue sweeping against hers in dizzying, intoxicating motions. This is her first kiss from a man, grown-up lips against hers, grown-up hands upon her. It's exhilarating, frightening, and amazing all at once. It's confidence, purpose, and deliberation. There is no awkwardness in his actions, just heat, determination, and Oh God, talent.

It ends as suddenly as it began and she tries to look calm and collected even as lips burning, she reels. Lex doesn't look even a little phased; he's smirking again, amused, smug, and so incredibly sexy she just might die.

Bringing trembling fingers to her mouth she studies him with awe she seriously hopes isn't pathetically evident at the moment, "You kissed me."

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and she shivers with delight. Isn't there a New Year's resolution she's supposed to be repeating in her mind like a mantra right about now? If only she could recall it…

"You kissed me back."

"Mm," she raises her eyebrow and finally unleashes her infamous mega-watt smile, "I should flirt more often."

"You're on an entirely different playing field now Chloe, remember that."

She furrows her brow, "Are you telling me I'm in your league, Luthor?"

He smiles and turns to unlock the driver's side door of her car, "Happy birthday Chloe."

So this is what being 18 feels like, she thinks as she moves to get in the passenger's side, already discarding some of her youthful naivety. Her tastes have matured. Goodbye hopeless crush on pretty-but-goofy farmboy! Hello intriguing crush on sexy and captivating older guy!

"I once told Clark that I hoped to be the girl he grew into," she tells Lex while she fastens her seatbelt, "And aside from just now realizing how dirty that sounds, I've reached another conclusion."

"Care to share it?" he asks conversationally, while turning her keys in the ignition.

"I got it backwards," she explains, "I was the one who needed to grow out of him all along."

"You're old enough to know better now?"

"Definitely." She flips on the radio and grins widely, enjoying the company and her epiphany. "18 is the perfect age to move the hell on, don't you think?"

"It's the right age for a lot of things," he says equivocally in that Lex way that can drive a person nuts.

She doesn't mind though, not really. It's almost… endearing, the same way the companionable silence that's currently settling between them is. The whole "mystery wrapped in an enigma" thing is just a part of Lex's charm and a gift she's kind of excited to unwrap if he'll let her.

For the record, she has a strong suspicion that he just might.

And while the revelations keep coming, she might as well acknowledge the fact that appropriately enough this is actually turning out to be a happy birthday after all.

She got just what she wanted.

…………………………

Author's note: … Yeah, I don't know either. It just sort of came to me.

hfce
30th October 2004, 17:12
I read this at FF.net I am glad you brought this over here. Good job.


Hope :D

kitten
30th October 2004, 17:20
:cool:

Very nice use of that knife edge of irritation and arousal that Lex can invoke. Great story. Welcome!

AlabamaWorley
30th October 2004, 17:27
I like it. It's very as-it-happens, as opposed to the event hopping that is sometimes necessary to tell a story. Good work!

asharnanae
30th October 2004, 17:32
:biggrin: I too read it over there, and loved it just as much the seccond time around, great fic!

chril1
30th October 2004, 17:59
i liked that

love lea
xxx

Julie
30th October 2004, 17:59
Please add in a rating in the topic title or topic description. I suggest you go take a look at the forum rules (http://forums.naughty-seduction.net/index.php?showtopic=1481) to make sure you don't break any other rules in the future.

S.Ann Smith
31st October 2004, 00:32
awww.... so cute.... i loved it

sylvia
31st October 2004, 05:28
Excellent writing. I love your characterisations of both Chloe and Lex, and their lot in life and their needs and hopes. Just the right amount of candour and pith, too. :)

Very well done, and do write more!

autumngold
31st October 2004, 07:20
I'm so glad that Chloe got a kiss from Lex on her 18th birthday!! Hopefully Lex is realizing that Chloe is perfect for him!! Great Chlexy dialogue and I love Chloe's thoughts!! Thanks for the great story!! :yay2: :chlexsign4: :yay2:

Ainur
7th November 2004, 05:36
I don't know why but I find this incredibly hot. It has a quality, I don't even know how to explain it. Great job!!! :wub: :worship2:

starmoon
29th April 2005, 19:23
that was great and i enjoyed reading it.

LEXNCHLOEROCK
9th May 2005, 04:07
Loved it. I was hoping Lex meant his home! What could be better than Chloe realizing she's outgrown Clark and Lex kisses her on her 18th Birthday? Well sex would be nice especially with Lex. Just a thought.