We Are Who We Have Always Been (R) - Final - 10/21/08

[cypanache]

We Are Who We Have Always Been

Author: Cy Panache
Rating: R (for non explicit sexuality)
Category: Angst/Romance
Spoilers/Timeline: Set in Season 5 pre-'Lexmas', but it will move around with flashbacks.
Disclaimer: Someone else's sandbox. I just play here because other people have all the best toys.
Summary: She's never been unbiased when it comes to him. That's her problem. As Chloe lets Lex take her out one last time, we get glimpses of what brought them here.

Author’s note: Yes I know this is isn't Collaborator, but this is less of a fic and more of an exorcism. It took hold on Friday and wouldn't let go. It will be short (about three parts max) and I expect to just write it all this weekend. As with many of my shorter pieces in other fandoms, this is low on dialogue and high on atmosphere. In other words very different style from Collaborator.

Final Note: This fic jumps time a lot. I will try to make it all as clear as possible.

- + - + - + - + -

“A person isn't who they are during the last conversation you had with them - they're who they've been throughout your whole relationship.”
-- Rainer Marie Rilke

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Chapter 1

Present

He finds her in the rundown coffee shop that has, up until now, functioned as her safe-haven. Three miles from the MetU campus and four from the basement of the Daily Planet it is her escape, her refuge from the shiny, plastic world of Metropolis, from corporate coffee and Lana Lang and sometimes because she turns off her cell even from Clark Kent. Here she's just Chloe, no last name, no history, no loyalties or duties or insurmountable secrets, just the girl who likes the owner's lethally strong turkish coffee and his wife's pastries.

Leave it to Lex Luthor to take that away.

Damn and she'd liked this coffee. Savoring what might be her last cup, she makes a mental note to avoid paying with a card when she finds a new place.

He doesn't wait for an invitation (he knows it isn't coming), just tosses down a file folder like a gauntlet, its contents spilling across the linoleum of the table in silent accusation.

It only takes her a glance to know what she's looking at . . . Every single piece of email correspondence she's had with his father over the last four months.

“Did you really think I wouldn't find out?”

Slowly, carefully, she sets down the little demitasse cup, and touches his name on one of the emails scattered before her. “Honestly, I didn't think it would take you this long.”

It's the truth and he knows it. She'd wanted him to know, wanted him to see it, watch it happen, to have this visible, tangible evidence of her hatred. Of the poisonous seed inside her that she's trying to cultivate with everything she has, to make it flourish and grow until its strangled everything else, all the other emotions that it seems won't die on their own.

If he can touch her hate, it must be real.

But its not that simple, it has never been that simple between them, and she can feel him watching her, coming to his own decisions, and when he opens his mouth she knows what he'll say. Its the same question he always asks. The one that started everything between them a year and a half ago as he took in the marks on her skin, the full import of his father's wrath and his own powerlessness.

“Do you hate me yet?”

There's only one answer to the question. The one she always gives. The one she'd first whispered in a teasing effort to lighten the mood as his hands skimmed the flesh of her abdomen, seeking something like solace or absolution. She's deadly serious now.

“I'm working on it.”

She is. She is working on it. And she gets a little closer every day. As she works with Clark, as she collects scraps of vitriol from his father, weaves lies and truth together into a cloak for her heart, it always bring her one step closer.

But she's not there yet.

Which is why, when he takes a seat across from her, the silk and wool of his pants brushing against her calf as their legs tangle under the too-small table, she doesn't pull away. His hands come up to slide the paper emails out from under hers, deliberately trailing his fingers over her skin as he does.

Something goes alight inside her, and she has to clench her hands into fists to keep from reaching back.

He hasn't touched her in months, not since he dragged her to the caves, left bruises on her arms and fresh scars on her heart. And even in the Yukon with all her new injuries, new pain, she'd known which parts belonged to Lex, almost mourned their loss when they finally faded. She wonders what he'll give her to remember him by this time.

Because he seemingly knows where her thoughts have strayed, he turns her hand over, swipes his thumb along the interior of her wrist. Once, twice, three times. The touch sends something shooting through her, something that makes her want to forget the past year, forget all the reasons why she ended this.

Her fist uncurls. Lex smiles.

It was a test. And she failed.

But when she looks up there's something hot and desperate in his gaze, and she realizes her failure is a matter of perspective.

“You should give me the opportunity to respond. Any unbiased journalist would.”

She's never been unbiased when it comes to him. That's her problem.

“What did you have in mind?”

-------

June 3rd, 2004

The first time he touches her, its in the too-small upstairs bathroom of the safe-house, her father asleep on the couch in the living room. It has all the makings of something dirty, tawdry. But it doesn't feel that way.

If anything it feels like something frighteningly close to grace.

She slips in without permission, startling the hell out of him, and when she throws the lock behind her, he nearly swallows his tongue.

“Chl- Wha?”

“I thought I'd give you a chance to look. You've been trying not to all night, but . . .” she shrugs, “I just thought I'd give you a chance.”

He could protest, tell her he wasn't. Lie. But he owes her more than that. So he looks, long and hard, takes in everything from the tiny cuts on her forehead, the bruise on her cheek, the scrapes on her neck. Things that happened to her that he couldn't prevent. So much pain and death, on someone so alive. He doesn't think he could hate his father more right now if he tried.

Something awful tries to claw its way up in his throat, comes out in a strangled sound that he can't even give a name. And then Chloe is taking his hand, pressing it to the flesh of her collarbone. “He didn't break me. I'm not broken.”

He doesn't know whether she's saying it for his benefit or her own.

It doesn't matter. He needs to believe it. But he can't, not quite yet, needs more proof, more reassurance. Unconsciously his hand sweeps along her throat, down the skin of her chest, until it encounters the first button holding her shirt together. Suddenly realizing what he's doing, he starts to jerk away, but then her hand is covering his, holding it to her breastbone, and her eyes are telling him its okay, she understands.

She doesn't, can't possibly, except her other hand is coming up to his chest, resting just beside the bump of the permanent IV line, and he realizes maybe she does.

The buttons come undone with agonizing slowness. He can't remember the last time he's been nervous about undressing a woman, but then he's always known what he was doing before. He doesn't know anything right now, doesn't know what he'll find, doesn't know if he's taking or giving, if he's conducting his penance or compounding his sin.

And then it's all a moot question because the shirt has slipped from her shoulders and he can see everything—the abrasions on her stomach from where someone must have pressed her down to shield her from the brunt of the blast, the burn marks trailing like fingers around the sides of her waist—all the places his father marked her, all the wounds she wouldn't carry if he hadn't brought them upon her.

“Do you hate me, yet?” He's deadly serious about the question, because truly how could she not? He'd made her a promise to protect her, to wrap her in cotton and keep her safe, and instead he's given her this.

But Chloe just laughs, like its an absurd thought, like she can't think of any reason why she would. “I'm working on it.”

The words are enough to undo him, the thought that anyone might believe that in the emotional spectrum its hating him that takes work, and he's kissing her before he even knows what he's doing.

She's citrus and black licorice, sunshine sweetness and biting spice. He's never tasted anything like it and he doesn't want to stop.

Lex is vaguely aware that he's supposed to the responsible adult in this, but she's whimpering against his mouth, tiny mewls of desire, and its all he can do to tear himself away, to rasp her name against the skin of her neck in a way that's as much plea as protest.

When her fingers start fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, the responsible adult leaves the room, chased by want and need, and he spins them around, pressing her against the sink, remembering her wounds, too late, when she sucks in a hiss of pain.

But her hands are fisting in his shirt even as she does, yanking him closer before he can pull away. “It's okay. You can't hurt me. It's okay.”

God, he wishes that were true.

Still, the reassurance is enough to keep him going, to want to be closer, feel more of her. Test the limits of her belief in his safety. He hoists her up on the edge of the sink, groaning at the feel her lace covered breasts on his chest. She instinctively wraps hers legs around his waist, and he tightens his arms around her, and suddenly they're counterweights, both so off-kilter they can't stay up on their own, but together they might just keep each other balanced.

He doesn't usually talk to women during sex, there's rarely anything he wants to say, and none of it would be real. Now suddenly, he wants to say everything but he's choking on the truth of it. So in the end he's just as silent as he always is.

And yet everything is different, transformed, in this tiny bathroom with this too-young woman (girl), with too much wisdom, and too much life, and not the slightest ounce of sense (just look at the choice she's making right now). He becomes a different person as he runs his fingers along her sex, reveling in how wet she is, in the physical proof that he can bring her something other than pain. She leans back in his grasp, closes her eyes and gives herself over, trusting he won't let her fall, trusting he'll take care of her.

And he will. This time he vows he will.

---------

Present

She lets him lead her out of the coffee shop to where his Porsche is parked half a block down. It's the silver one, shiny and ultra-conspicuous and before she can protest, point out her little red VW bug is just around the corner, he turns and jerks her hand, pulling her into his arms.

His mouth is hot and hungry, devouring her, and begging for more. God, she'd forgotten how good he tastes, how he makes her feel—beautiful and desirable and powerful—feelings she'll spend the rest of her life trying to replace with shallow facsimiles. If she's not careful she could get lost in him, in this all over again, could forget all the things she knows he's done to Clark, the sins and transgressions she's collected from Lionel. No sane person would do this.

But the permanence of her sanity has always been a question mark.

Which is why she's pressed up against the door of Lex's Porsche in a highly public street, in the middle a well-publicized state senate campaign, half-hoping he intends to fuck her before this day is out. “Lex . . .” she pulls away, and he shifts his focus to the spot behind her ear, so she just barely manages to complete the thought in a breathy moan, “not here.”

His fingers flex convulsively against her hips, pulling her closer in retaliation. “Afraid someone will see?”

The words are a mocking derisive sneer, a taunt. Because yes that's exactly what she's afraid of, that she'll be seen, photographed and turned into a headline. That Clark will read it, that her father will know, and it will all come crumbling down and then what will have been the point of everything? But she'll never say that.

“You're the one running for office. This would make a nice scandal.”

“Don't care.”

The sad thing is . . . he doesn't. For all his duplicity, for all his guarded emotions and self-control, Lex has always been unflinchingly direct about her, about them, about his desire to shout her name from rooftops and engage in public worship. It's life and her that's always interfered.

And suddenly she knows. This is his response. His revenge. He wants to take her out, court discovery, claim her just once.

Turning her head, she captures his lips again, lets her hands scrabble on his shoulders and tries not to think about the fact she's deliberately flirting with disaster.

Maybe after everything, this is the least she can do.

- + - + - + - + -

[karila]

This is a really interesting beginning.
They seem to have a strange relationship.
I hope to read more soon.

[tatie87]

This is really good. There was so much plot going on. Keep writing it.

[lj715]

Really love the beginning, more please.

[dagney]

Your descriptions and skill with words have really made this piece powerful with emotions, I feel such sadness-desperation and longing that pain and love and lust are so inter woven here. Dagney

[Kit Merlot]

This is an incredibly intriguing beginning and I can't wait for more:D

[BeachBabi]

Loved the beginning! Can't wait to see where you go from here! Update soon please.

[purplemoon123]

This is just beyond awesome.

Very intruging and can't wait for the next chapter.

[hfce]

What a great beginning. :)

[wistfulwatcher]

*Blinks* Wow. Just...wow. That was so incredibly beautiful. Your writing is so powerful, so absorbing and intense, I just got completely wrapped up in this. I actually started unconciously leaning forward, and by the end of the chapter, I almost had my forehead on the screen. :)

I'm excited that you'll be updating so quickly, because it's so hard to wait for your writing... I squeal when I see that Collaborator has been updated.

More soon please!

WW

[peggy]

great beginning, please update soon

[somethingeasy]

I am nuts about this new fic you’ve started, Cy. I love the very interesting, intriguing characterizations you’ve created as well as the emotional interplay between them.

First of all, I LOVED the beginning… showing Lex Luthor interrupting Chloe’s solitary ‘me time’. LOL! It figures that he would find some way of sure he came at the most inconvenient time possible. AND he managed to intrude on Chloe’s private, intimate moment too. I’ll bet he knew exactly what he was doing too… insinuating himself into Chloe’s most private moment and sanctuary. LOL! That sneaky, rat-bastard!

Oooh, the beginning of their conversation was fascinating. So Lex is peeved off at Chloe getting all chummy with his father? It looks like Chloe REALLY knew exactly how to enrage Lex to the extreme. Not even Chloe’s friendship with Clark would have raised Lex’s blood like this.

I can imagine that he probably also felt freaked out about Chloe replacing him with another Luthor. After all, she came to Lex once to escape from Lionel, and now she’s approaching Lionel to get away from Lex. You’ve gotta LOVE the sick irony of that :D

I was hooked in wondering what happened that made Chloe decide that it was worth cultivating Lionel’s alliance and ‘friendship’ in order to be rid of Lex… especially since it seems like a good part of her actually adores Lex, and can’t come to hate him as much as she probably should for safety’s sake. What could Lex have done that has driven her to such extreme measure to cut him out of her heart and life?

Heh… it seems like Lex is fully aware of how Chloe cannot bring herself to completely cut him out of her. She admitted it, but he ALSO had that delicious physical response from her when he merely brushed her skin with his hand. The bastard knows about the power he had over here.

LOL! Then again, I think Chloe might also have an inkling about the power SHE holds over HIM? Does she? Or does she think that he’s just playing games with her? I’m pretty sure she’s aware of their mutual weakness for each other… which is why it’s so baffling seeing her complete and emphatic rejection of him.


It doesn't matter. He needs to believe it. But he can't, not quite yet, needs more proof, more reassurance. Unconsciously his hand sweeps along her throat, down the skin of her chest, until it encounters the first button holding her shirt together. Suddenly realizing what he's doing, he starts to jerk away, but then her hand is covering his, holding it to her breastbone, and her eyes are telling him its okay, she understands.

She doesn't, can't possibly, except her other hand is coming up to his chest, resting just beside the bump of the permanent IV line, and he realizes maybe she does.

The flashback was amazing! I loved this moment more than anything! Even more than the smut that followed, this moment spoke more clearly of their fundamental connection and understanding of each other more than ANYTHING they could have said or done. They both knew each other… so perfectly that it didn’t even needed to be spoken out loud. I LOVED that! And I wonder how Lex could have screwed up.

Heh… I suppose it’s possible that Chloe could have screwed up, but it’s usually always Lex’s fault, isn’t it? ;) LOL!

Anyhow, I loved how this moment led so beautifully and naturally to their fierce, desperate coupling. I can see why, after finally, FINALLY meeting a women who understand him so deeply, Lex would want to connect with her in every way possible… which of course means hard, intense sex for him.


Lex is vaguely aware that he's supposed to the responsible adult in this, but she's whimpering against his mouth, tiny mewls of desire, and its all he can do to tear himself away, to rasp her name against the skin of her neck in a way that's as much plea as protest.

I LOVED how Lex’s sense of reason and integrity was basically screaming at him to back away from the seventeen year old he was about to fuck. But he wouldn’t… or couldn’t listen to that. He wanted her so badly, that even his deep rooted sense of discretion and chivalry was smashed away into nothing. I LOVED seeing Lex completely overwhelmed by his urgency for Chloe.

Damn, I wonder what went wrong with something that was obviously so right and strong between them!!!


He doesn't usually talk to women during sex, there's rarely anything he wants to say, and none of it would be real. Now suddenly, he wants to say everything but he's choking on the truth of it. So in the end he's just as silent as he always is.

This killed me, Cy! Seriously! It killed me seeing Lex not talking during sex, not because he didn’t want to, but because he wanted to so badly that all the words got choked up in his throat with the urgency and desperation. You KNOW Lex has fallen hard for a women when he’s on the verge of babbling to her.


The sad thing is . . . he doesn't. For all his duplicity, for all his guarded emotions and self-control, Lex has always been unflinchingly direct about her, about them, about his desire to shout her name from rooftops and engage in public worship. It's life and her that's always interfered.

And suddenly she knows. This is his response. His revenge. He wants to take her out, court discovery, claim her just once.

Wow! I loved the idea that Lex is willing to throw away everything… his political prospects, his reputation as a cut-throat business man, everything just for the chance to be with Chloe. But I also agree with Chloe’s assessment that a part of Lex ALSO wanted to humiliate Chloe by having her ‘caught with the enemy’ in a horribly compromising position. He wanted to love her and worship her, but he also wanted to see her humiliated and beaten. Don’t you LOVE Lex’s paradoxical, schizophrenic mind? :D

Hmmm, but I wonder whether Chloe was aware of Lex’s urge to ‘love and worship’ her as she was aware of Lex’s game-playing to ‘claim her’ like this. She thinks he’s out for humiliation and revenge (which is probably true… although to what extent, we’re not sure)… so does she know that he would give literally anything to have her choose to be with him?

Wow! What a fantastic fic, Cy! The characters are amazing, and the dynamics between them are thrilling and emotionally wrenching. I look forward to getting more details about the encounters that led to them feeling like THIS about each other. Please update soon!

[cypanache]

WARNING: There is a reason this fic is in the angst section. This chapter is a major part of that. It will deal with what I know is a very controversial and sensitive issue. I have tried to handle it in a human way, and honestly it hurt me to write pieces of this. I don't want to post the actual issue for plot reasons, but if you'd like to know it before reading . . . pm me.

A/N: The flashbacks are not linear. Please pay attention to the dates.

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Chapter 2

December 14, 2004

Once when she's in an odd mood—a strange amalgam of exasperation and playfulness and chastisement that's uniquely Chloe—she takes a red sharpie to his skin. Writes words over his torso and down his thighs. And despite how indulgent he feels just from having her back, he still tries to stop her, because could he possibly look more ludicrous right now? But she swats his hands away and starts to say them out loud as she writes . . . adjectives no one ever associated with him before—Kind. Beautiful. Good.

He's always respected the power of words. Their ability to persuade and obfuscate and deceive, to bend people to your will, but never before has he believed in their power to create. Yet lying there listening to Chloe describe him as something he has never been, tracing the letters on his skin in semi-permanent marker, he feels remade, carved anew. Because Chloe sees truth with her sharp reporter's eyes, speaks it with her tongue, and reveals it with her pen, this man she's creating has to be who he is now.

Because she writes the word 'mine' over his heart, and he knows that's real.

“There,” she pronounces when she's finished, “now you won't be tempted to get naked at any of those upcoming Christmas parties, next week.”

He wouldn't have been anyway, and she knows it, but the words still sting, serve as a tiny biting reminder of the lost dark months when he had anyone because he didn't know how to come back to her.

Before he can lapse into that darkness again, she traces the 'mine' with her finger and kisses the scars on his chest left by the IV lines, the ones he tells other women are surgical and she knows his father gave him. She keeps going teasing and arousing him with the same mouth that remade him, until he can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything but pull her to him and sink inside her.

It's cold outside, but she insisted on ridiculously 'couply' (her word) things like hot chocolate and marshmallows and most importantly a fire, the kind that makes naked sex in a too big library in 10 degree weather possible, the kind that means even in the chill, they're still sweating from exertion and heat. Sweat that makes her skin glow and the semi-permanent marker a little less permanent. So afterwards when he goes to dispose of the condom and get them another drink, he comes back to find her still laid out in front of the fire like some incredible Pagan offering, her skin painted with faint traces of red that transferred from him during their coupling. And though most of the words have been distorted beyond recognition, he's convinced he can still make out two:

'Beautiful' and 'Mine'.

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Present

After the second time they ended (at her insistence but no one's desire), he started sending her her articles. Every new piece she wrote for the Torch viciously marked up until they almost bleed with his thoughts, observations, commentary, criticisms, and compliments. And when she landed her internship with the Planet it wasn't more than a week before she started receiving the obituary page, with the same biting red-ink script. She doesn't even have a byline but somehow he can always tell which are hers.

She knows its obsessive, morbid, bordering on the fanaticism of a stalker, but then what do you say to the woman who keeps every one like its a love letter? Reads each tightly scripted word over for a dozen meanings, and thinks about what he'll say when she crafts her next piece? Lex has always been her staunchest supporter and sharpest critic, and the message implicit in his refusal to relinquish the role is the same as the one in the red pen he always uses to tattoo these little pieces of her . . .

'Mine'

The fact she changed a word the other day because she remembered the last time he had mocked it as overuse of her thesaurus doesn't do anything to disprove that claim.

The fact she's standing here in this exclusive boutique letting him buy her a dress in the muted evergreen she never wears anymore because it makes her think of how much he loves it on her, does even less.

Somewhere inside her the independent feminist is screaming about how allowing him to dress her like this is demeaning and patronizing, but if she protests he'll simply offer to take her back to her dorm so she can change into something appropriate . . . while he waits out in the hall, there for anyone to see.

This dress seems less like giving in.

Yet even as she gives herself that perfectly rational explanation, the part of her that instinctively seeks his eyes in the mirror still thrills at the desire reflected there. She skims her hands down the sides of her thighs, watching as Lex's hands open and close, knowing he wants to be the one doing that. Intends to be the one doing it before the night is out.

It's not a question anymore, its a foregone conclusion, an inevitable end. Maybe it was from the moment he showed up in her coffee-shop.

The realization should scare her more than it does.

As though he feels her acquiescence, Lex steps up behind her and kisses her shoulder, smiles at her in the mirror and whispers, “Do you know how long I've waited to take you out like this?”

She does actually. She can remember the words she'd once thrown at him in so much fear, 'What did you think would happen, Lex? You'd be my boyfriend? Take me to the prom?' Remember the look in his eyes, that sinking feeling in her stomach as she realized, while the details might have been different, he had imagined a future where she had not. He wanted something she did not.

Because this can't be what its rapidly becoming, she covers the hand at her stomach with hers, and whispers, “This isn't a date, Lex. This is goodbye.”

“Is it?” he murmurs, undeterred, “We've had so many. I'm starting to get fuzzy on the meaning.”

They haven't, not really, not compared to soap operas or Clark and Lana's continuing saga of longing glances and missed opportunities, but each one they've had has been painfully intense, seemingly permanent and insurmountable.

And yet they seem to keep surmounting them any way.

Still this has to be it, has to be all, because she just doesn't know how many of these she has left in her.

-------

July 31, 2004

The moment he walks into the safe-house that evening he knows something is drastically wrong. Chloe greets him at the door like a barricade, a preemptive strike, and as she leads him into the living room he catches a glimpse of Gabe Sullivan watching from the kitchen. It feels like he's going to his execution.

For a brief minute he has the mad thought she's changed her mind, doesn't want to testify, and he gets ready to reassure her, tell her she doesn't have to do anything she doesn't want, even though he's desperately scrambling to figure out how he'll ever protect her if his father is out of jail.

He should have known better. Known she wouldn't back down. The reality is simultaneously more beautiful and more horrific.

She's pregnant.

Almost two months along. She'd chalked being late up to excitement and stress and drastic life changes (what an inadequate description), but then came the nausea . . . and yes, she's taken a several tests, she's sure.

For one brief instant he experiences a rush of pure, unmarred joy. And then it sinks in, what she's saying, how she's saying it. There's no happiness in her voice, no anticipation. She doesn't want this.

She's telling him that for the past two months he's had the family he always wanted, and in the same breath she's asking for his help to take it away.

In some rational, detached portion of his mind, he understands her reasons, even agrees with them—she's too young, still hasn't completed high school, she has too much potential, too much promise to not complete her senior year and go on to college or even to delay it. There are other reasons, colder, more calculating ones—she's going to face enough insinuation and claims of bias on the stand, no jury will ever believe her if she testifies against his father while pregnant with his child. And if she doesn't . . . well, the thought of what his father might do to her in an attempt to control his grandchild is enough to make even Lex's blood run cold.

And for all that, it doesn't make her choice feel any less like rejection.

He reacts poorly, knows he's doing it, and can't stop. She's leaning toward him, seeking comfort and solidarity, but he has none to offer. Instead he's rigid, unyielding, argues every point she makes with cold, logical precision: He doesn't care about the trial. As far as he's concerned his father can die on an island in the Caribbean surrounded by nubile slave girls. She won't have to give up her dreams. He can afford to hire the best of nannies. When she's ready to go to college, he'll pay for MetU and an apartment for all of them downtown. He outlines a life for them, a future he can accept because he can't accept this, and the more he does it the more he falls in love with the dream.

His voice has gone low and pleading, trying to seduce her into this, get her to bend to what he wants, ignoring her ever-growing agitation, until finally he pushes too far and she's up off the couch, pacing in anger and fear she can't contain.

“I just can't, Lex. I can't do it for all the perfectly good reasons I gave you, and I can't do it for really terrible selfish ones. Because I don't know if I ever want to be a mother. I don't even have someone to show me how. And I can't-” She breaks off turns away.

He knows he's going to hate what he's about to hear, but he prompts her anyway. “Can't what?”

“I can't be that girl. I can't walk down the hall and have everyone know I was that stupid.”

“To sleep with someone?”

“To sleep with you! Because everyone's going to know you're the father, and there goes stupid Chloe Sullivan who slept with Lex Luthor over the summer and probably thought he meant forever. Isn't she a fool?”

“She isn't,” he insists trying to make her see he's never meant it more.

She scoffs, “Now who's being stupid?”

“Is that what you think?”

“Oh come on, can you really honestly say you'd thought this was going to last when we got back to Smallville?” She rubs fiercely at her eyes, dirty with mascara and tears, “What did you think would happen, Lex? You'd be my boyfriend? Take me to the prom?”

The words, the mocking tone, her absolute certainty he'd intended no such thing . . . it hurts. Physically hurts. And though, no, he has no intention of ever setting foot in a balloon-filled gymnasium, he's had fantasies of other things, simpler things, and grander things and more permanent things. Waking up with her in the morning, taking her to New York and D.C. for her graduation, moving his residence to Metropolis when she enrolls in MetU. He could tell her all that now, but she's looking at him with horror-filled eyes and he realizes she's already figured it out.

And it doesn't change a thing.

In that moment, he understands his father viscerally and completely. Understands the torture he put his mother through in insisting she have Julian, the reason he's never been able to love him. Because he's suddenly the same man. He wants to lock Chloe away, force her to have their baby, to love it. And he wants to kill her. For one terrible instant he wants to wrap his hands around her throat as punishment for wanting to take this away from him.

The rage passes as quickly as it comes, but he's adrift and lost in its wake. He wants to comfort her, hold her, finally do all the things he should have done from the beginning, but he can't do any of that because he'll never let anyone near her who's ever even thought about hurting her, even if that man is him.

Because he won't be his father, won't force her, he stands and gives her the only answer he can. “I'll have someone make the arrangements and contact you.”

And then because he can't hold her and he can't kill her, can't force her, but can't support her, he does the only thing he has left.

He walks out of the room.

She doesn't try to call him back.

Gabe is now standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching him with the eyes of God, and he knows that job he offered him won't be accepted. So now he's lost his family and his plant manager all in one fell swoop.

He wonders what kind of man he is that the thought even crosses his mind.

The next day he contacts a doctor in Metropolis, follows it up with calls to have his buyer in Russia aggressively pursue the Danskoy manuscript, and schedules visits to every excavation his father has funded over the past two years. He needs a new obsession.

He never goes back to the safe house. The doctor sends him the medical report. He burns it without reading.

- + - + - + - + -

[superag]

How freaking sad. For both of them. But as upsetting as it is, I'm looking forward to the next sad and angsty chapter.

[tatie87]

All I can say is wow. Chloe pregnant with Lex baby. Her getting an abortion. Eventhough Lex didn't want to be like his father, I can't believe he let her do it. I can't wait for the next installment.

[wistfulwatcher]

This just keeps getting more beautiful and more perfect, and more poetic and heartbreaking. I can't help but love both Chloe and Lex, at the same time I want to slap them both.

Twice, I had to shake my head and take a drink of water, because my mouth had fallen open, and I hadn't even realized.

I love that you can write them as this cute, fun, content couple, as Chloe writes on Lex with a red sharpie, and then write them as this angsty pair that only corresponds through an edited obit.

I love the reasons for both Chloe and Lex's reactions to the pregnancy; that whole scene was incredibly powerful.

Thank you for a fantastic update.

WW

[lj715]

Omg...that was so sad. Although I didn't want her to have the abortion I can certainly understand why she did. Even with this I still want more...please.

[purplemoon123]

The more I read the more I love this.

Love Chloe marking Lex with the red sharpie and Lex marking all her articles.

I am wondering if Lex missed something because he didn't read the medical report.

[Zannie]

This is just wonderful--beautiful in an aching sort of way. Both Chloe and Lex feel real and scarred and sympathetic, which isn't an easy task with a story as conflicted as this one is.

Their early relationship is both sweet and heartbreaking, and, if you hadn't warned in your author's note, I never would have noticed that the first flashback came after the second one. That timeline is really fascinating, and I'm looking forward to filling in some of the gaps. I think you handled the abortion well. As long as they're portrayed in a real, human way, I think controversial issues should be written about. Stories are the way we better understand things.

I'm loving this and hope you're able to finish it soon. I need closure.

[dagney]

Wonderful, thanks for being brave and writing this. Dagney

[Kit Merlot]

What a beautifully sad and angsty chapter!

Chloe's having an abortion is an extremely tough and personal choice and my heart is breaking for both of them.

Continued excellent work on this story.

[Starangel148]

How sad! I felt bad for Chloe (I hear women are never the same after an abortion) and especially for Lex. Wonderful and heartbreaking chapter.

[somethingeasy]

This was an excellent chapter, Cy! I was thoroughly impressed with the sensitivity and realism with which you dealt with this topic. It was very well done. I found myself agreeing completely with Chloe’s decision to abort. She had very good, excellent reason for wanting the abortion, and in any case, I’m firmly pro-choice, which means I would have supported Chloe’s decision to abort even if she had not cited any reason at all.

I also think it’s a fascinating topic to discuss realistically in a fic because, even if Chloe DID have very good, firm reasons for wanting the abortion, a decision like that IS going to have a traumatic impact on her. She might tell herself it was all for the best, but there’s no way that she won’t feel a significant amount of guilt and regret over the decision that had to be made.

I loved the start of the chapter. LOL! Sneaky Cy! You placed the flashbacks ‘out of order’ to give us the first impression that we were seeing a beautiful, strong loving relationship suddenly torn to tatters. It was only during my second reading that I appreciated that this beautiful relationship in the first flashback had actually been formed AFTER the horrible, nasty, traumatic argument in the second flashback. Masterfully done, Cy! I am deeply impressed… by you structuring as well as your writing :D

And now it’s driving me crazier than ever wondering WHAT could have broken up the Chlex relationship after it was obviously so strong, intense and powerful even AFTER the rough time it’s already been dragged through. What could have finally have been the breaking point for Chloe after that recovering from the horrible ‘abortion trauma’?!



He's always respected the power of words. Their ability to persuade and obfuscate and deceive, to bend people to your will, but never before has he believed in their power to create. Yet lying there listening to Chloe describe him as something he has never been, tracing the letters on his skin in semi-permanent marker, he feels remade, carved anew. Because Chloe sees truth with her sharp reporter's eyes, speaks it with her tongue, and reveals it with her pen, this man she's creating has to be who he is now.

Because she writes the word 'mine' over his heart, and he knows that's real.

I loved this beginning. In fact, this was my favourite part in the fic. I LOVED the way Lex was acknowledging Chloe’s power, not only over him, but over everyone with her words. He awed by her powers and skills as a writer and wordsmiths, and in this instant, I can see he firmly believes that Chloe can change the world with the use of her words. I know that Chloe would have been delighted and flattered knowing about Lex’s thought process right here.

So this was fresh after they had gotten back together, huh? I loved how Lex seemed so happy, sated, peaceful and right right then and there. He was lying with Chloe as if it was exactly where he belonged, and exactly where he’s always been for a lifetime. There was no awkwardness or doubt about the ‘rightness’ he felt about this. He never stopped loving her, did he? Wow!


She knows its obsessive, morbid, bordering on the fanaticism of a stalker, but then what do you say to the woman who keeps every one like its a love letter? Reads each tightly scripted word over for a dozen meanings, and thinks about what he'll say when she crafts her next piece? Lex has always been her staunchest supporter and sharpest critic, and the message implicit in his refusal to relinquish the role is the same as the one in the red pen he always uses to tattoo these little pieces of her . . .

'Mine'

The fact she changed a word the other day because she remembered the last time he had mocked it as overuse of her thesaurus doesn't do anything to disprove that claim.

Damn! What the heck could have made Chloe break off that beautiful, loving relationship that had been formed with Lex. It’s especially frustrating because I can *see* that she still loves him! AND that he’s still obsessively devoted to her as well. And they both know it too. How are they both staying apart from each other knowing how much the other loves them?

Heh… wasn’t it so cool seeing Lex in his semi-creepy (but very thrilling) stalker mode for Chloe. I don’t even think his main agenda was to get back together with her (although he was hoping for it obviously)… I think his main aim with the stalker love notes was to make sure she knew about his awareness and continued involvement in her life… even if it was from a forced distance.


Yet even as she gives herself that perfectly rational explanation, the part of her that instinctively seeks his eyes in the mirror still thrills at the desire reflected there. She skims her hands down the sides of her thighs, watching as Lex's hands open and close, knowing he wants to be the one doing that. Intends to be the one doing it before the night is out.

LOL! I seriously enjoyed the way that Chloe tried to convince herself that letting Lex buy her a dress was a practical move to make, and NOT a sign of her ‘giving in’ to him. She actually made some good points about why it was the smart, practical move… which was immediately blown over by her response to seeing Lex’s reaction to her in the dress that he chose for her.

Damn, that was hot! I loved, LOVED visualizing the flare of heat in his eyes as he saw her skim her hands over her hips, and he imagined it was HIS hands skimming over her hips, legs, stomach, breasts and all other places.

It’s pretty interesting that Chloe seems to already accept that a sexual encounter by the end of tonight is inevitable. I wonder whether Lex senses that resignation. What does he think of it? Is he thrilled about being able to touch her again… anxiety ridden about the fact that he has to make it The Best Sex Ever in order to make sure Chloe never leaves again after tonight? She is insisting that this is ‘goodbye’, and I don’t think Lex is going to settle for a simple ‘good bye fuck’. He wants everything!


For one brief instant he experiences a rush of pure, unmarred joy. And then it sinks in, what she's saying, how she's saying it. There's no happiness in her voice, no anticipation. She doesn't want this.

She's telling him that for the past two months he's had the family he always wanted, and in the same breath she's asking for his help to take it away.

Oh this was heartbreaking, Cy! I fully supported Chloe’s decision here, but it was still gut-wrenching to see Lex so BROKEN about that decision. I can’t really blame him for going a little crazy and trying to persuade, cajole, seduce and even semi-coerce Chloe into having the child. I loved the fact that a part of his mind accepted everything Chloe was telling him as ‘the right thing to do’… the smart, strong, practically and intelligent part of his mind was fully supporting her decision. But it couldn’t speak past the overwhelming, howling, unreasonably emotional monster that was insisting that he wanted, Wanted, WANTED this family desperately.


“Oh come on, can you really honestly say you'd thought this was going to last when we got back to Smallville?” She rubs fiercely at her eyes, dirty with mascara and tears, “What did you think would happen, Lex? You'd be my boyfriend? Take me to the prom?”

The words, the mocking tone, her absolute certainty he'd intended no such thing . . . it hurts. Physically hurts. And though, no, he has no intention of ever setting foot in a balloon-filled gymnasium, he's had fantasies of other things, simpler things, and grander things and more permanent things. Waking up with her in the morning, taking her to New York and D.C. for her graduation, moving his residence to Metropolis when she enrolls in MetU. He could tell her all that now, but she's looking at him with horror-filled eyes and he realizes she's already figured it out.

And it doesn't change a thing.

Perhaps I’m trying to see a more powerful version of Chlex where it doesn’t exist, but I actually think that Chloe DID nurture a small hope of a future with Lex. I think that she DID care about him intensely, and she might even have had some fantasies of the two of them together. But I imagine that she probably made it a point of squash all those fantasies before they were fully formed in her head, because she KNEW that she was ‘only Chloe Sullivan, forever second best’, and that a girl like her could never be a person of long-term interest for Lex Luthor. Her insecurities prevented her from falling too deeply for him.

And then… when she realized that there IS a possibility of a future… her fear made her run away from it. With good reason actually, because in this moment, she must have seen the possibility of a future where she became Mrs. Lex Luthor… the sweet, obedient little wifey of a powerful, controlling, dominating man who would reorder her whole life, personality and ambitions to suit HIS lifestyle and needs. Lex’s vehement refusal to see her point of view in this scene frightened the wits out of her… and her instincts must have been screaming at her to get out, get out NOW!


In that moment, he understands his father viscerally and completely. Understands the torture he put his mother through in insisting she have Julian, the reason he's never been able to love him. Because he's suddenly the same man. He wants to lock Chloe away, force her to have their baby, to love it. And he wants to kill her. For one terrible instant he wants to wrap his hands around her throat as punishment for wanting to take this away from him.

The rage passes as quickly as it comes, but he's adrift and lost in its wake. He wants to comfort her, hold her, finally do all the things he should have done from the beginning, but he can't do any of that because he'll never let anyone near her who's ever even thought about hurting her, even if that man is him.

Because he won't be his father, won't force her, he stands and gives her the only answer he can. “I'll have someone make the arrangements and contact you.”

It was this part that made me instantly forgive Lex for his earlier pig-headed refusal to listen to Chloe’s needs. You could see how he was itching to use his power and influence to control Chloe, and turn her into whatever kind of partner and match he wanted her to be. But he didn’t!!! He considered the possibility, and then he refused to do it. I think that’s SO much better than not even considering the possibility at all. He saw ‘the right thing’ and ‘the wrong thing’ to do… and he consciously chose to do right. I was so damned proud of him!


The next day he contacts a doctor in Metropolis, follows it up with calls to have his buyer in Russia aggressively pursue the Danskoy manuscript, and schedules visits to every excavation his father has funded over the past two years. He needs a new obsession.

He never goes back to the safe house. The doctor sends him the medical report. He burns it without reading.

The poor heartbroken man. This certainly explains why Chloe and Lex just dropped the relationship and friendship between them after Chloe returned ‘back from the dead’. Neither of them had anything to say to each other.

I wonder what prompted Chloe to finally make the move to re-initiate their relationship. Any chance of getting a flashback of Chloe approaching Lex for their first reconciliation?

This was a fantastic chapter. And it painted a VERY intriguing picture of the development of the Chlex in this world. I can’t wait to get more details… AND see where it ends up. Please update soon!

[cypanache]

A/N: It really was intended to be three chapters. It will actually be four. It was intended to be written in a weekend. It will actually be a week. Sigh (Are we noticing a pattern?). Anyway on with the show.

A/N2: Sometimes I swear to god its like Sabrina's in my brain.

- + - + - + - + - + -

Present

His first restaurant choice is completely unacceptable—the trendiest new eatery, just written up on the front page of the Planet's lifestyle section as 'daring' and 'fresh'. If this were LA it would have a goddamned rope line. Since its Metropolis it just has Linda Lake, but that's enough to ensure that by tomorrow morning she'll be front page gossip.

When she locks the door against the valet's attempts to open it and shoots him a glare than would have any man (namely Clark) running for the hills, Lex just smirks as if to say 'Can you blame me for trying?'

Yes she can, and she intends to.

But he shifts the car into drive without another word, and peels away from the curb at a speed that's designed to draw attention.

It's such a silly little boy move, she can't help but laugh, a tiny snort of suppressed amusement as she keeps her face to the window. And then another and another, until she's practically doubled over, and Lex is actually smiling, and God she's missed him.

It's enough to evaporate the last remnants of tension, at least for the moment, and she just gives herself over to it, drops her head back against the seat, closes her eyes, and reaches a hand out to touch his thigh.

He almost fails to shift gears.

When they stop again, she's momentarily disoriented, and it takes her a second to place the location as the garage entrance of the LuthorCorp building.

Lex gets out without a word and comes around to open the door for her.

“I thought the whole point of this was to show me off,” she quips with a raised eyebrow, and maybe the tiniest amount of hurt that he wasn't really ready to risk it all. It's beyond hypocritical, but she doesn't care.

“We can go back out. I have five other reservations you haven't rejected yet.” He shrugs and starts to close the door, so she has to strong arm it back open.

She hates that he knows her well enough to call her bluff, and she knows him well enough to know he's not bluffing at all. But he takes her hand, leaning down to brush a kiss on the inside of her palm, and a little part of her melts.

“So what changed your mind?”

“I didn't want to share you.”

Strangely she knows what he means. For that moment in the car, she'd been with him completely, let go of all her reservations, forgotten other obligations, and just been 'his' again. If he took her out, put her on display, her guard would go up and he'd lose her all over again.

It means something, that having all of her is more important to him than keeping a piece, that he's let his plans, his petty revenges, get derailed because of it. The feeling makes her smile at him while he orders a series of dishes from the kitchen of the four star restaurant in the next building, scowling at the wait time, and when snaps his phone closed, leans back against the wall of the elevator to look at her, she wants to touch him, wants to wrap her arms around him, and kiss him senseless.

But its sixty five floors up to his office and there are just some associations they're never going to get past. So instead she tilts her head and begins a countdown.

-------

November 19, 2004

She barely lets Jefferies get the door open before she's burst into the library, a tornado of indignation and barely contained violence that makes him desperately glad he's playing pool and therefore has a possible mechanism of defense in his hands.

But even that momentary inclination towards self-preservation is fleeting because its the first time he's seen her since the trial and she's grown out her hair and looks more beautiful than ever (he didn't even know that was possible). The fact she's obviously considering how to kill him and hide the body only seems to make him want her more.

The newspaper lands in the middle of the pool table with a thud, the headline 'Luthor Sex Scandal' staring up at him big as life. “You're a bastard.”

“And hello to you, too.”

“Thirteen women? Really?”

“And those are just the ones who've come forward.” Deliberately avoiding her gaze so he won't have to see whether his barb has hit the mark, he lines up a shot. Sinks it.

Still he can see Chloe's grip white-knuckle on the edge of the pool table. He lines up another shot. Wishes his aim wasn't always so good.

Wishes he knew how to stop fighting. Stop hurting. Stop wanting things he can't have.

Just stop.

Before he can get the shot off, Chloe's hand shoots out and captures the cue ball. “What are you doing?”

The concern in her voice is more than he can take because it can't be anything but false, and before he can stop himself he's tossed the cue on the table snarling, “Why do you care? Don't you hate me yet?”

He's practically begging her to say yes, to just admit what he knows must be true, because if she does, if she'll just say it, maybe he'll be able to stop hating himself on her behalf.

“I'm working on it,” she rolls her eyes, “Keep this up and I'm sure I'll get there eventually.”

If she'd said no, if she'd protested or tried to placate him, he wouldn't have believed her, would have walked out, but she's so obviously disgusted with him it can't be anything but real. And suddenly he can barely stand, has to brace himself against the edge of the pool table for support.

Quietly, sadly, she repeats her original question. “Lex, what are you doing?”

He doesn't know anymore. He's getting up, and pulling on clothes he doesn't see, eating food he doesn't taste, fucking women he doesn't feel. Going through life on mute because its less painful than the actual experience. “I'm living my life.”

She lets out a snort of derision. “By being a slut?”

Her phrasing catches him off guard, and he flinches because only Chloe would put it that way, the way that simultaneously calls him on his ugliness and makes him want to really laugh for the first time in months.

And then he is. He's laughing and he's shaking and then he's laughing harder, mad hysterical silent laughter that's closer to crying than he's come in twelve years.

For a long time she just watches him, observes him across the expanse of green felt that might as well be a canyon for all he can figure out how to cross it. And when she speaks, its with a tiredness that makes him wonder if she's been sleeping, makes him think of all the things he doesn't know about how she's doing because he left her on her own.

“I'm not stupid, Lex. I can read. Ten of these women were in the last three months. Seven months and three women, and then suddenly you can't keep it in your pants.” She shakes her head, sighs, “What I can't figure out is whether you're trying to punish yourself or me.”

Both. Neither. Sometimes its him, and sometimes its Chloe, and sometimes he's just running so hard it doesn't matter as long as he doesn't have to stop. But he'll be damned if he tells her any of that, because he's made himself that vulnerable to her once, let her trick him into foolish dreams she didn't share, he won't do it again.

“Trust me its no punishment.” The words sound good, lascivious and sneering, and the moment they cross his tongue he desperately needs a scotch to chase the taste.

“So its me then.” There's no anger there, just terrible resignation, like a patient who's gotten confirmation of a fatal diagnosis “I guess I knew. I mean all these women . . .You couldn't get more opposite if you tried.”

He has tried, and you can't. There's nothing of Chloe in those women, none of her spark, or her wit, or her heart, nothing he'll ever be in danger of actually responding to. Absently he knocks back two fingers of scotch, starts to pour another three.

And then there's a sound he can't even give a name, an explosive sob that's torn from her like a harsh animal cry, “You can't even touch someone who looks anything like me, can you? God, you must hate me so much!”

He whirls in horror, all thought of alcohol and his own selfish pain forgotten. Hate her? She thinks he hates her? The thought is almost laughable, except they're so obviously not laughing.

He doesn't know how to hate her. Though lord knows it would easier, simpler, a place to direct some of the acid bitterness that's eating everything in him. But the ability to do so seems to have been left out of his emotional lexicon. Thinking about Chloe only leads to missing her, to wanting her, and knowing he's made that impossible. He doesn't touch blondes because he wants them all to be Chloe, could too easily get lost in the momentary fantasy, and while he cares very little about what those women think there's something too needy about calling out her name against another woman's skin for him to handle.

And she knows none of that, has chosen the most obvious interpretation and the wrong one. So he's managed to hurt her again, four months without so much as a word and still he's managed to hurt her.

It's okay. You can't hurt me. It's okay. He'd known that was false even as she said it, and yet he chose to believe it, clung to it for protection, the idea that for all her ability to eviscerate him with every word, flay him with silence, he held no such power in return.

Yet there she stands, half doubled over the pool table for support, ruining the newsprint with her tears, visual proof he has power he never wanted and doesn't know how to wield.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry.” The words are coming in fast little gasps, choked out in between hiccuping sobs. He's never seen anyone cry like this, with everything in them. It stymies him, leaves him paralyzed and furious at his own inadequacy.

And then Chloe's knees are buckling and he's moving, wrapping his arms around her from behind, and pulling her against him.

“Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.”

Spinning her around, he grabs her wrists, too tightly, and shakes her, proving just what kind of man he is. “Stop it. Chloe! Stop it!”

But she's beyond hearing, keeps repeating it over and over again, a horrible mantra of regret and self-loathing. Until he can't take it anymore, and he kisses her just to shut her up.

It's wrong from the get go, a desperate attack, that quickly turns fierce and needy. She's clawing at his neck, and he's pinning her to the pool table, like some horrible mocking replica of their first time, and he wants to do this differently but he's too afraid to stop.

“No,” she whispers the word against his lips, and the tiny hand that has been tearing at his buttons is on his chest, pushing him away, “Lex, no.”

He's died before. This hurts more.

“I'm sorry.” And then because it's the only way he might be able to stop touching her, he starts to step away. “You're right. I'm sorry.”

She stops him with a hand on his. “Not like this.” And then she's touching his face, and he's leaning into her palm. He could drown here and be happy. “We deserve to do this better. Tell me we still deserve better.”

He realizes they do, and it feels like forgiveness.

------

Present

He's always loved to watch her eat. During those months when they spent almost every free moment together, he actually hired an additional chef just because the man did pastries and classic Italian cuisine. Lex likes Asian-fusion, but he likes watching her try to new things more. It's almost a fetish with him, that first bite. And there had been more than once when the chef had to remake the whole damn meal because he couldn't wait for her to actually eat her fill before he took his.

She'd asked him about it once, why it fascinated him so much, and the chasteness of his response had surprised her (particularly since they were naked at the time). “You experience everything so completely, whether you love it or hate it, its right there on your face. Its beautiful, and when you love it . . . I feel like I've given you something spectacular.”

Which is why when Lex starts to unload the containers from the restaurant she's not surprised to find more food than two people could hope to eat. What does surprise her is the familiarity of it, he's ordered old favorites, things he's introduced her to—osso bucco and caprese salads and mushroom risotto. She's never said anything about what she prefers, but there it all is, spread out on the coffee table and spilling across his desk, a love letter written in food.

She doesn't bother to wait for him (he never eats until she's started), just dives in like a kid at Christmas, and when she looks up half-way through a bite of tomatoes and fresh mozzarella and balsamic vinegar that shouldn't even be possible in the middle of winter in Kansas, the look in his eyes makes her heart stop.

“Wha?” That would have been a hell of a lot more articulate if she'd remembered to swallow first.

“You know.” Lex murmurs shedding his jacket and sitting down on the floor beside her, begins to trail his fingers up the line her calf, the back of her knee, the inside of her thigh. His touch is possessive, assuming too much. Then he's nipping at the spot behind her ear, and maybe he's not assuming enough. “Keep going, Chloe.”

Who is she to ignore a command like that, when there's risotto calling?

It goes on like that for over an hour, she eats, and Lex encourages her and distracts her and encourages her some more. And she's sure she occasionally feeds him something, but honestly its really not her highest priority for his mouth.

The whole situation is ludicrous and sensual. His expensive suit, her beautiful dress, this gourmet food, and they're sprawled on the carpet of his office, eating out of takeout containers and making out like teenagers.

For a moment she's ridiculously happy.

And then her cell-phone rings.

“Ignore it.” Lex commands, in between kisses as his hand starts on the zipper of her dress, easing it down in a slow tease.

But she knows that chime. “Can't.”

“You can.” He insists, nuzzling her neck, as his thumb grazes her nipple through the fabric of her dress.

“It's Clark,” her friend's name comes out in a gasp, as Lex bites down hard at the point where her neck becomes her shoulder.

“Ignore it.”

“He'll just call back.”

“Turn off your phone.” He's rucking up her skirt now and that doesn't sound like a bad idea.

“He'll come looking for me.” She figures its a fifty fifty shot as to whether he actually will, but God forbid he does.

“Let him.”

“He might find me.” Probably will. Sometimes she thinks he has a tracker on her that only works at the most inconvenient times.

“Let him.” Lex sounds like that's his idea of Christmas.

“He might interrupt the sex.”

With a growl Lex pushes her away and gets up. Tossing her the cell, which by now has stopped ringing, he snaps, “Get rid of him. He doesn't get you. Not tonight.”

Right now, she wishes Clark didn't get her at all.

But because that's not how things work, she thumbs her speed dial, readjusts her dress, and tries to figure out what kind of excuse gets you out of an apocalypse, because even if the world's ending she's not leaving Lex.

Actually if the world's ending she can't think of anywhere better for her to be.

In the end all she's getting out of is pot roast and Christmas cookies. She tells him she's on a stakeout for a story and is going to have to turn off her phone. Glares at Lex when he chooses that moment to turn up the stereo. Passive aggressive bastard.

Clark tells her to enjoy her stakeout with a smirk in his voice that translates to 'date'. Now she's going to have to invent someone. Snapping her phone closed, she sighs, “Happy?”

“No.” Lex comes over and takes the phone back, turns it off and removes the battery. At her grunt of displeasure, he simply responds, “I told you I'm not sharing tonight.” Pocketing both pieces, he holds out his hand. “Now dance with me.”

He's turned on old jazz. Billie Holiday singing 'One For My Baby'. A song that feels like sadness and regret and goodbye.

She hates Clark for ruining everything.

She hates herself for letting him.

[wistfulwatcher]

I am MORE than fine with having to wait a little longer between updates, if it means we get a whole extra chapter! As it is, I find myself feeling sad only when the chapter is over. Quite a feat, considering this is an angst piece.

I absolutely love everything about this story. It's so heartbreaking and heartwarming and charming and realistic and perfect and wrong, all at the same time. The only thing I can request from you, is...sequel? Granted, I don't know how this one ends, but, really, more from you can only be a good thing.

Thank you so much for this fic!

WW

[lj715]

I love this story & can;t wait to read the next chapter.

[ChloeLovesLex]

Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic.

[Kit Merlot]

This is such an intense story! I love that you have Chloe and Lex knowing each other so well, and yet, they're still so distant.

And yes, Clark does ruin everything, doesn't he?

Keep up the great work on this fic:D

[tatie87]

I really love this story. You write Chloe and Lex so beautifully. I love the whole scene with CHloe calling Lex a slut. That was fabulous.

[somethingeasy]

A/N2: Sometimes I swear to god its like Sabrina's in my brain.

LOL! I’m going to take an egotistical leap, and assume that I’m the Sabrina that Cy is talking about here. Trust me, it’s a fun, FUN place inside Cy’s head… filled with psychedelic colours, tormented characters and LOTS of warm, pulsating, sexy music. LOL!


It's such a silly little boy move, she can't help but laugh, a tiny snort of suppressed amusement as she keeps her face to the window. And then another and another, until she's practically doubled over, and Lex is actually smiling, and God she's missed him.

It's enough to evaporate the last remnants of tension, at least for the moment, and she just gives herself over to it, drops her head back against the seat, closes her eyes, and reaches a hand out to touch his thigh.

He almost fails to shift gears.

The beginning was amazing, Cy! I loved it, and I cannot imagine a better and more apt start to the Chlex date. ROTFL! I LOVED the way that Lex tried to make a game of it from the start, trying to win points by slipping past sneakily through Chloe’s defenses while she wasn’t paying attention. Fortunately, Chloe WAS paying attention, and stopped him from scoring, LOL! And I can see he LOVED the fact that she caught him trying to play the game, and stopped him. Lex adores Chloe for a lot of her qualities, but I always think he loves her most of all for the way that she can continuously keep up with him, even at his most intricate game-playing… and even surpass him.

ROTFLMAO! And I loved, LOVED the fact that Chloe was both enraged and amused by the game her was playing. She sensed that he wasn’t trying to win for the purpose of humiliating her… but rather for the sheer, playful delight in just playing with her. Only Chloe can bring out Lex’s inner-child like this.

Omigosh! And I was delighted by the way that Lex’s presumptuous game-playing was followed immediately by a beautiful Chlex bonding moment. I loved that Chloe and Lex were able to share in the joke of the situation. No one else ‘gets’ this weird sense of humour that the two of them share with such ease… which is final proof on how these two are so well-matched together, and can never be happy with anyone else.

Squeee!!! Lex was so startled, shocked and dumbstruck by Chloe’s open smile and friendliness, that he almost forgot how to drive properly. Now THAT is a true shock from Lex Luthor. Beautiful, Cy! And I loved that Chloe noticed the response she can elicit from him… purely through a very innocent, friendly touch.


“I didn't want to share you.”

Strangely she knows what he means. For that moment in the car, she'd been with him completely, let go of all her reservations, forgotten other obligations, and just been 'his' again. If he took her out, put her on display, her guard would go up and he'd lose her all over again.

It means something, that having all of her is more important to him than keeping a piece, that he's let his plans, his petty revenges, get derailed because of it. The feeling makes her smile at him while he orders a series of dishes from the kitchen of the four star restaurant in the next building, scowling at the wait time, and when snaps his phone closed, leans back against the wall of the elevator to look at her, she wants to touch him, wants to wrap her arms around him, and kiss him senseless.

Oh WOW! I loved that! First of all, I was doubled over laughing when Lex told Chloe that he had five other restaurants that she hasn’t yet rejected. They both know each other so well, don’t they? LOL!

And then I was as delighted as Chloe seeing that Lex was willing to abandon all games, as fun as they are, because he realized that he needed something more from her tonight… He wanted ‘the real Chloe’ with all of her open delight, fun playful attitude and her open, direct, witty conversation. The game would only have pushed her into warily closing herself off, and he did NOT want that during their ‘first date’.

How can Chloe keep herself from falling for this man who displays all the RIGHT PRIORTIES when it comes to being with her?!?


But even that momentary inclination towards self-preservation is fleeting because its the first time he's seen her since the trial and she's grown out her hair and looks more beautiful than ever (he didn't even know that was possible). The fact she's obviously considering how to kill him and hide the body only seems to make him want her more.

I loved, LOVED the swooning way that Lex gazed on Chloe. Even after all this time, he’s STILL completely gone on her. He’s just inches away from throwing himself on the floor so she can walk all over her billionaire doormat. LOL! I always enjoy seeing Lex being so enthralled and mesmerized by Chloe’s passionate anger… even if that anger is directed towards him. I always get this image of a little bunny staring hypnotized at an upcoming tornado waiting to sweep it away… it might result in pain and injury, but what a ride! LOL!


Still he can see Chloe's grip white-knuckle on the edge of the pool table. He lines up another shot. Wishes his aim wasn't always so good.

Wishes he knew how to stop fighting. Stop hurting. Stop wanting things he can't have.

Just stop.

Omigosh! I LOVED your parallel phrasing over here, Cy! Comparing Lex’s proficiency with shooting pool balls with the skilled accuracy with which he can throw verbal darts at Chloe… hitting vulnerable spots without half trying. I LOVED the fact that he desperately doesn’t want to hurt her… that he can’t stand to look in her eyes as he’s hurting her, but he can’t make himself stop throwing those nasty, hurtful comments.


“I'm working on it,” she rolls her eyes, “Keep this up and I'm sure I'll get there eventually.”

If she'd said no, if she'd protested or tried to placate him, he wouldn't have believed her, would have walked out, but she's so obviously disgusted with him it can't be anything but real. And suddenly he can barely stand, has to brace himself against the edge of the pool table for support.

I loved the way that Lex was sadly and desperately half-hoping for Chloe to answer that she DOES hate him by now. Because having her hate him will perhaps finally allow him to get over her? To stop hoping that she’ll come back to him, even though he knows there’s no chance of that happening?

And then I loved, LOVED the way that Lex actually had to stop himself from collapsing in shock, relief, hope, despair and ALL kinds of extreme mixed emotions when Chloe revealed that she DID still harbour some feelings for him. Isn’t it amazing to see how Chloe cannot bring herself to lie to Lex… AND how Lex responds to Chloe’s ruthless form of truth-telling?


She lets out a snort of derision. “By being a slut?”

Her phrasing catches him off guard, and he flinches because only Chloe would put it that way, the way that simultaneously calls him on his ugliness and makes him want to really laugh for the first time in months.

And then he is. He's laughing and he's shaking and then he's laughing harder, mad hysterical silent laughter that's closer to crying than he's come in twelve years.

ROTFLMAO! Is this really the first time someone called Lex a slut? Actually, I think it probably is… which makes it waaay past overdue, LOL! I loved how Lex found himself both outraged as well as deliciously amused by the aptness and accuracy of her snark.

It was also so sad to see Chloe just tiredly watching Lex indulging in a moment of hilarity, not understanding where the laughter was coming from. She probably believed that he was laughing derisively at her… mocking her. Poor Chloe really believed that Lex hated her that much?!


“I'm not stupid, Lex. I can read. Ten of these women were in the last three months. Seven months and three women, and then suddenly you can't keep it in your pants.” She shakes her head, sighs, “What I can't figure out is whether you're trying to punish yourself or me.”

Both. Neither. Sometimes its him, and sometimes its Chloe, and sometimes he's just running so hard it doesn't matter as long as he doesn't have to stop. But he'll be damned if he tells her any of that, because he's made himself that vulnerable to her once, let her trick him into foolish dreams she didn't share, he won't do it again.

“Trust me its no punishment.” The words sound good, lascivious and sneering, and the moment they cross his tongue he desperately needs a scotch to chase the taste.

I think I’ve got an idea on what Chloe was really asking here… she was trying to find out whether Lex was going after all those beautiful women in a desperate attempt to get over here, OR whether he was just delighting in rubbing her nose in the fact that she was so easy to get over here. The first suggests that there’s a chance that he still loves her, and the latter would mean that there’s no hope of reconciliation between them.

Lex of course had no idea, and only thought Chloe was probing for weakness. So of COURSE he answered that he was delighting in those women rather than merely ‘tolerating’ them.


And then there's a sound he can't even give a name, an explosive sob that's torn from her like a harsh animal cry, “You can't even touch someone who looks anything like me, can you? God, you must hate me so much!”

He whirls in horror, all thought of alcohol and his own selfish pain forgotten. Hate her? She thinks he hates her? The thought is almost laughable, except they're so obviously not laughing.

This was my favourite part in the fic. THIS was the part that really helped me put together what was Chloe’s motivation in asking Lex those questions, and what she was hoping his answers would be. I loved, LOVED the fact that Chloe couldn’t bring herself to lie to Lex… to put up a cold, self-protective front hiding her pain… she SHOWED him her pain, and made everyone (Lex and readers) realize how it was tearing her apart to have him ‘taken away’ from her.

I loved the fact that Lex actually whirled around in horror at her tears as well as the ridiculous extent of her misconception of the situation. At that moment, he stopped caring about protecting himself, and his priority immediately became ‘protect Chloe’! What a wonderful, beautiful man he can reveal himself to be… when the need arises.


It's okay. You can't hurt me. It's okay. He'd known that was false even as she said it, and yet he chose to believe it, clung to it for protection, the idea that for all her ability to eviscerate him with every word, flay him with silence, he held no such power in return.

Yet there she stands, half doubled over the pool table for support, ruining the newsprint with her tears, visual proof he has power he never wanted and doesn't know how to wield.

I loved the idea that part of the reason why Lex could keep on hurling such nasty, hateful comments at Chloe was because he didn’t believe (or didn’t want to believe) that he had the power to hurt her as much as she could hurt him. Seeing how much he CAN damage her has levelled him! I loved the fact that he felt like a loathsome, petty, disgusting, repulsive monster for making Chloe cry like this. He’s never EVER going to try to inflict this kind of pain on her again… not now that he knows how it comes back a hundred fold on him.


“Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.”

Spinning her around, he grabs her wrists, too tightly, and shakes her, proving just what kind of man he is. “Stop it. Chloe! Stop it!”

But she's beyond hearing, keeps repeating it over and over again, a horrible mantra of regret and self-loathing. Until he can't take it anymore, and he kisses her just to shut her up.

I suspected that there would be traumatic repercussion from the abortion. Chloe made the right, sensible and practical choice… but it was still a HORRIBLE choice to make… especially for a girl who values life and truth like Chloe does. It must be killing her to know that she made the conscious decision to destroy life inside of her. The worst part was probably that she had to go through it all alone… all the while knowing that her decision had earned her the loathing and revulsion of the man that she loves. The poor girl has been suffering deeply for all these months. And Lex didn’t notice?! The bastard has a lot to make up for!

But this moment made up a lot for his blindness and ignorance from these previous three months. The instant he realized Chloe’s pain, he immediately set himself into motion to provide her with whatever comfort and solace he’s capable of. It’s GREAT to see his gut reaction to Chloe’s pain and trauma. It’s a hard, painful moment, Cy… but also so beautiful!


It's wrong from the get go, a desperate attack, that quickly turns fierce and needy. She's clawing at his neck, and he's pinning her to the pool table, like some horrible mocking replica of their first time, and he wants to do this differently but he's too afraid to stop.

“No,” she whispers the word against his lips, and the tiny hand that has been tearing at his buttons is on his chest, pushing him away, “Lex, no.”

He's died before. This hurts more.

“I'm sorry.” And then because it's the only way he might be able to stop touching he starts to step away. “You're right. I'm sorry.”

She stops him with a hand on his. “Not like this.” And then she's touching his face, and he's leaning into her palm. He could drown here and be happy. “We deserve to do this better. Tell me we still deserve better.”

He realizes they do, and it feels like forgiveness.

Omigosh! What an beautiful, AMAZING reconciliation, Cy! First of all, I loved the fact that Lex found himself frantically rutting into Chloe, even though what he really wanted was to take her up to his room and slowly make love to her… provide her with all the devotion, comfort and solace that she needed right now. But he was so damned afraid that this was the only chance he was going to have to touch her, that he couldn’t stop himself from making it hard and fast.

It was a good thing that Chloe, although I’m sure she must have had the SAME FEARS about Lex changing his mind, was brave enough to tell Lex that she wasn’t willing to ‘settle’ for a frantic, hard fuck when they both obviously needed something slower and reassuring. Isn’t it fantastic to see Chloe’s bravery as well as her determination to stick to the truth of what they both want from each other? She’s exactly the kind of partner Lex needs to make a relationship work.


She'd asked him about it once, why it fascinated him so much, and the chasteness of his response had surprised her (particularly since they were naked at the time). “You experience everything so completely, whether you love it or hate it, its right there on your face. Its beautiful, and when you love it . . . I feel like I've given you something spectacular.”

Which is why when Lex starts to unload the containers from the restaurant she's not surprised to find more food than two people could hope to eat. What does surprise her is the familiarity of it, he's ordered old favorites, things he's introduced her to—osso bucco and caprese salads and mushroom risotto. She's never said anything about what she prefers, but there it all is, spread out on the coffee table and spilling across his desk, a love letter written in food.

A love letter written in food! I don’t know how you managed to evoke such a peculiar sign of devotion that was also so beautiful, apt and perfect, Cy!!! It makes perfect sense that Lex would find himself enthralled by the passion with which Chloe approaches everything in her life… whether it’s fights with him, or new foods that she tries out with him.

And wasn’t it wonderful to see how Lex get an awed, reverential form of delight being able to be the person who can introduce Chloe to a new kind of pleasurable experience? LOL! Does he tend to sulk whenever she finds a new ‘favourite food’ out of his presence? ROTFL!


The whole situation is ludicrous and sensual. His expensive suit, her beautiful dress, this gourmet food, and they're sprawled on the carpet of his office, eating out of takeout containers and making out like teenagers.

For a moment she's ridiculously happy.

That was such a gorgeous and FUN visual you created for us, Cy! I fell headlong in love with the ridiculous combination of formal and informal that Chloe and Lex were experiencing during their date. LOL! It’s the perfect setting for them though!


“He might find me.” Probably will. Sometimes she thinks he has a tracker on her that only works at the most inconvenient times.

“Let him.” Lex sounds like that's his idea of Christmas.

“He might interrupt the sex.”

With a growl Lex pushes her away and gets up. Tossing her the cell, which by now has stopped ringing, he snaps, “Get rid of him. He doesn't get you. Not tonight.”

I nearly screamed when that damned cell phone rang, interrupting that moment of utter perfection that Lex and Chloe were indulging in. And then my scream turned into a shriek when Chloe said it was Clark interrupting that beautiful moment! Pretty much the worst person who can intrude on this!

It was pretty fun to see Lex taking savage pleasure in the idea of Clark catching ‘his precious Chloe’ as well as the ‘filthy monster, Lex’ together like this. But of COURSE Lex would want Clark knowing about this… I suspect Lex’s entire motivation for wanting them found and caught by the paparazzi was to make sure CLARK knew about their date, and their relationship (past, present… and future).

LOL! And it was even more fun seeing Lex immediately turning aside his plan when Chloe basically threatened him with ‘no sex’ unless he let her answer the phone. He’s so EASY to play!


In the end all she's getting out of is pot roast and Christmas cookies. She tells him she's on a stakeout for a story and is going to have to turn off her phone. Glares at Lex when he chooses that moment to turn up the stereo. Passive aggressive bastard.

ROTFL! Sneaky, petulant bastard! Don’t you LOVE him?!? Even when he knows he’s not getting the ‘full discovery’ the way he wants, he still wants Clark to have an idea on where Chloe is tonight… and what she’s doing (even if Clark has no idea who she’s doing, ROTFL!)


“No.” Lex comes over and takes the phone back, turns it off and removes the battery. At her grunt of displeasure, he simply responds, “I told you I'm not sharing tonight.” Pocketing both pieces, he holds out his hand. “Now dance with me.”

He's turned on old jazz. Billie Holiday singing 'One For My Baby'. A song that feels like sadness and regret and goodbye.

She hates Clark for ruining everything.

She hates herself for letting him.

Heee… I get the feeling this was meant to be a segue into how their ‘second break-up’ happened? I suspected that Clark played a huge part in their break-up. Now I only need to know the specifics of the situation… and figure out who was more at fault in the Chlex fracture, Chloe or Lex.

LOL at Lex pocketing her dead phone, determined to monopolize her attentions for the rest of the night (and every night after if he can manage it). Quite honestly, I have no idea how these two are going to go back to the distanced relationship that they’ve been barely maintaining after tonight. Chloe might not be able to keep her distance from Lex… and Lex will most DEFINITELY not be settling for simply sending her article love letters after he’s gotten a chance to have everything he wants from Chloe for this one night.

This was a fantastic chapter, Cy! I look forward to the next one. Good luck with the next update… please post soon!

[Zannie]

I know exactly how you feel about having a story not stay the length or time-commitment it's supposed to. It's happened to nearly every story I've ever written. "Reconciled" was supposed to be six to eight chapters.

But as far as I'm concerned, four chapters is better than three for this story.

The present scenes in this chapter were charming, but they weren't at all the mood I was expecting. In fact, the Chlex relationship here is so complex and elusive that I have no idea how it's going to be resolved. Every time I start a new scene, I'm holding my breath--not having any idea what mood or dynamic it will bring.

The scene from the past was moving and just lovely.

I'm looking forward to the last chapter, if only because I feel like there are still a few gaps in my understanding of their relationship. Update soon!

[hfce]

Great update. I love the love and hate Chloe and Lex have going on in this chapter. :)

[cypanache]

A/N: Sorry this took me forever. I'm prepping for trial and this part has been incredibly difficult. I hope you find it worth the wait. Btw, I would like to take this moment to remind everyone of the category we're in.

And so without further ado, I give you final part of this fic.

- + - + - + - + -

March 13, 2005

She goes with Clark to visit Alicia's grave on the one month anniversary of her death, stands beside him while he mourns in a quiet self-contained way. He doesn't burst into tears or recite poems of eternal devotion, just stands there looking at her headstone, so far away Chloe might as well not be there at all.

“I know none of you could ever understand, but . . .” he inhales sharply, “she was special.”

He doesn't say anything else.

She wants to tell him she does understand, more than he'll ever know. Wants to tell him she knows exactly how special Alicia was, how special he is. Tell him she understands what its like to love someone, to know they're more than the worst thing they've ever done. But she can't find the words.

It's been a month now, and she still hasn't found the words. A month of knowing and lying and losing little pieces of herself to this secret.

She looks down at Alicia's grave and silently curses the dead girl.

What gave you the right?! What gave you the right to force this on me?

It feels like some cosmic joke. She spent almost a year of her life chasing this in one form or another, trying to solve the mystery of Clark Kent as though it would somehow bring her closer to him. And when she'd finally left it behind, could honestly say she didn't care to know at all, it's dropped in her lap, a neatly gift-wrapped grenade just waiting to blow her world to shambles.

She wishes so many things were different, wishes Alicia hadn't died, had forced Clark's secret out in the open for all to share; wishes she'd died earlier before Chloe could learn things she didn't want to know. She wishes Clark hadn't stopped trusting Lex, wishes he'd never learned to trust her again.

But more than anything she wishes Lex couldn't read her so well.

She doesn't know why she thought she'd be able to keep this from him. The strange things that happen in Smallville have always been a shared obsession with them, and they can spend hours deconstructing the latest occurrence, taking it apart and examining it from every angle. Only now she has a few more pieces.

It only took him two weeks to notice the change. She'd been lying next to him in bed, tracing his most recent injury (she wants to cover him in bubble-wrap and keep him locked away), while he recounted yet another series of events where he should be dead but isn't, where Clark shouldn't really be involved but is. They've got this down to a routine, he posits one theory, she responds with another, but this time she's so busy being grateful to Clark for giving Lex back to her she misses her cue.

He goes still beneath her, swipes back a lock of hair with questing fingers and searches her face with too knowing eyes.

“What do you know, Chloe?” He tries to keep his tone light, his manner teasing, but it isn't and he's not. Unraveling Clark Kent is a compulsion with him, a quest for understanding and self-knowledge he doesn't know how to quit, and until now she's always been on his side.

But Clark has saved her life, and more importantly he's saved Lex, more times than she can count, and though she'd give Lex all of her this isn't her secret to tell.

So she lies.

And he knows it.

And it feels like something died.

They never talk about it. They can't because she'll deny there's even something to talk about. Still the knowledge is there and its killing them by inches.

She's trying to ignore it and he's trying to let it go, but they're not always successful, and every time she acts like she doesn't know anything, and he pretends he believes her, she can feel another brick in the wall going up between them.

If only she could blame it on him. On his stupid obsessive need for complete control, but she knows better. This is about loyalties and sides and deep-rooted insecurities neither one of them knows how to shed. About the fact that for all his money and power, Lex has lived his life as a consolation prize, successor to his father's empire by default, married to a woman who loved his money more than him, making his way in a town which accepts him only as the lesser evil.

He's makes her feel like she's everything—the lottery and Charlie's golden ticket and King Solomon's Mines all in one. She's supposed to return the favor, to want him more than anything. She's supposed to choose him first.

And he thinks she's choosing someone else.

I'm not.

She whispers the words in her mind that night as she fucks him. Even as she says other things with her mouth, “God” and “Yes” and “Harder” and “Lex”, they all translate one way—You. I'm choosing you. And at the end when words have almost lost meaning and sense, she holds his gaze as she rides him to completion, willing him to understand what she can't explain. I'm choosing you. I'm being who you need me to be the only way I know how.

Still when he looks up at her in the afterglow, with something close to awe on his face, and whispers “I love you” with something like a plea in his voice, she knows it isn't enough.

For one beautiful, terrifying second Clark's secret is there on her tongue, and she's going to tell him. She's wanted to from the moment it happened, wanted to share this discovery and see his excitement, and now she can't think why she hasn't. It's so simple, so perfect. She'll tell him and prove how much she loves him. She'll tell him and he'll know he comes first.

She has to kiss him to stop herself.

I love you, too. I'm sorry.

Four days later she stops returning his calls (she tried to say goodbye a dozen times but it never came out). A week later he corners her in the alleyway behind the Talon, traps her against the wall with his body, and lays siege with his mouth until she breaks, starts returning his kisses with a passion that negates every lie she's about to tell.

When Lex pulls away its only to whisper one harsh raw word against her ear.

“Why?”

Because even now she still wants to tell him. Because if she stays with him she will.

Because she can't do that and be the Chloe he needs, the Chloe he loves. Because with all the sins she's committed, all the wrongs she's done, she can't add betrayal to the list. Because she's already used up her lifetime's allotment of forgiveness and now she has to be worthy of the grant.

Because. Because. Because.

There are a hundred good reasons she's doing this, and she knows none of them will be good enough for him. Right now they barely feel good enough to her. So she just closes her eyes against the tears, buries her face in the crook of his neck, and shakes her head.

“I'm not going to let you go.”

“You can't keep me.”

He's not threatening and she's not protesting. They're just stating facts, basic immutable truths that echo against the pavement and brick.

So here they are clinging to each other in this alleyway. And she thinks some part of them might be here forever, trapped in this purgatory between heaven and hell, together and not, desperately holding on to something already lost.

In the end, no one moves first, they just part, slip through each others fingers like smoke, transient and intangible and suffocating. He watches her go, stands in the shadows as she makes her way back to the well-lit entrance of the Talon. And though laughter and music spills into the alleyway, the noise of happiness rings hollow, so she can still hear the soft threat he whispers like a promise.

“I won't forgive him for this.”

It's the closest they ever come to talking about Clark.

----

Present

He takes her from behind, braced against the windows of his office, lips at her shoulder, green silk rucked up to her waist, palms tangled on the glass that makes it feel as if they're on display for anyone to see.

No one can (he values his privacy too much). The windows are mirrored and the office is ten floors higher than any other building, but all the same he likes the illusion, likes the fantasy of everyone knowing, bearing witness to the reality of this moment.

Sometimes it feels as if they never happened. They've gotten so good at the pretense, at facing each other across the fault line of Clark Kent as uneasy adversaries, that he if didn't wake up nights hard and aching and reaching for her, if he didn't sometimes find himself standing in front of a window display staring blankly at a child's stuffed animal, if he didn't have his morning paper opened to the obituaries first, he could actually believe his time with Chloe was little more than a passing dream, a momentary delusion of his fractured mind.

But she's here with him now, pliant and breathless and real to the touch as he brings her to climax, holds her shuddering body against his own, and tries not to get drunk off the power.

“Lex . . .” He loves his name on her tongue, the combination of sated need and expectant desire and blind trust all in one rough syllable.

He wants the world to her see like this, wants to put her up on a pedestal and bring civilization to its knees before her. But she'd never stand for it, so he'll settle for second best.

“Open your eyes, Chloe,” he whispers the command against the nape of her neck, as he eases the zipper of her dress down those last few excruciating centimeters he couldn't be bothered with the first time. And when she obeys, lifts heavy lids to gaze out at the lights of the city scattered before her like jewels, he releases the silk he's been holding captive against her breasts, follows it down to the floor to kneel before her like a supplicant.

All of Metropolis at her feet . . .

I could give you this. If you'd let me, I could give you everything.

She closes her eyes against the offer, and the message is implicit, No you can't.

He presses his forehead against her hipbone in defeat. No, he can't. He's known that since the moment she closed the door of the Talon, all those months ago. There's something she keeps by choosing Clark (he refuses to believe Kent actually gives her anything), some essential piece he'd never be able to replace for her. It doesn't make her happy, doesn't even make her content, but it makes her Chloe. And for that reason alone, he can't bring himself to blame her.

So he blames Clark instead, justifies terrible acts and ruthless pursuit, as no less than his erstwhile friend deserves. Well earned punishments for believing his secrets are precious enough to ruin lives and destroy hearts.

Almost as though she knows where his thoughts have strayed, she drops down beside him and presses a kiss his temple, recalling him to the here and now, where Clark Kent is nothing more than a disembodied voice on a disabled cell-phone, and Chloe is naked before him, body awash in the city lights—beautiful and perfect and his.

With the first rush of need now calmed into a steady current of desire, he splays her out on the carpet, determined to go slowly this time, reacquaint himself with every patch of skin and curve of muscle. Starts at her feet like any true supplicant, pays homage to delicate points of her ankles, says a devotional along the line of her calf, and takes his communion at the juncture of her thighs.

She writhes beneath his ministrations, murmuring obscenities and endearments in the same gasping breaths, growing more erratic, more insistent with each passing minute. “Lex . . . God. Fuck! Lex.”

He knows what she wants, the same thing he does . . . more. More of his mouth on her, his fingers inside. More sensation and more feeling. Wants to be pushed over the edge into oblivion.

But what he wants is more time.

She's letting him have tonight and he's trying to make it eternity by sheer force of will.

So he ignores her pleas, takes his time bringing her to the precipice, letting her see the edge over and over, until they're both incoherent and desperate. Until he needs her now more than he wants her later.

Chloe surges up the moment he releases her to fumble for another condom. Attacks and lays waste to his shirt, shoving it down his shoulders, until its cuffing his wrists and she's got him imprisoned and at her mercy. (She could have saved herself the effort). “My turn to touch.”

The promise alone is enough to make him lose his mind. The reality nearly ends him, and when she drags her fingernail along his pectoral, scratching her 'Mine' back over his heart as she sinks down on him, it snaps the final threads of his already frayed control.

He bites down hard on the curve of her neck.

Chloe's gasp could be pleasure or pain or some combination of both, but the hand that flies up to his head to hold him there is as unambiguous as the, “Yes,” that follows.

She'll have a bruise there tomorrow, will have to wear turtlenecks and scarves for a least few days, maybe more. He loves the idea, lathes the spot with his tongue, and worries it with his teeth and thinks about sending her a cashmere scarf in spring green.

He wants to mark her everywhere, give her five new bruises. As if the fact they're made in love could erase each of the ones that weren't.

But there are some things you can't take back.

---

June 16, 2005

The doctors oppose moving her, detail her injuries to Lex, as though her medical fragility would somehow sway him. She could have told them to save their breath. Lex above all people knows what she can withstand—hypothermia, bruised ribs, contusion to her lower back—they're all minor, inconsequential.

He has a very competent medical staff prepared to care for her needs on his jet.

And no painkiller will take care of her broken heart.

So she lets him check her out. Take her home.

Like she knows where that is anymore.

Three months ago, home would have been here on this jet, in that hospital room . . . anywhere Lex was. But he reaches out to steady her when they hit turbulence, and she flinches away. And this jet feels like a prison.

“I suppose I deserve that.” It could be an apology, but there's a bite of accusation in his voice. He still views himself as the injured party in this.

And maybe on some level he still is. But he's let his wounds fester, let the infection spread and poison him, until he's become something she barely recognizes.

An animal might lash out because its hurt, but that only makes it more dangerous. Not less.

Suddenly tired, overwhelmed at how irrevocably damaged everything is, how badly she's fucked everything up, Chloe sinks down in the chair across from him and draws her knees up to her chest like they might protect her.

She should have known Lex would react like this, should have known all she'd do was cause him to pursue his obsession with Clark's secrets and his own destiny, with more tenacity than before.

And maybe on some level she had, but she always thought she'd have more time. She'd thought she could make everything turn out so differently. Thought if she could just get Clark to trust her, see her as impartial, eventually she'd be able to get him to trust Lex, too. Thought she could be their bridge. Instead she's become the wedge, the thing driving them further apart.

“What do you want, Lex?”

“You.”

It's such a simple request and so impossibly complicated, that she can't stop the little hiccup of bitter laughter in the back of her throat. Unconsciously she rubs the spot on her left arm that just two days ago had been decorated with bruises in shape of his fingers, only realizing what she's doing when his eyes follow her gesture. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

Lex looks away at that. “I suppose I've made it impossible.”

He has, but not for the reason he thinks, and there's plenty of blame to go around. “You're not the only one.”

It doesn't soothe him the way she thought it would. Instead he's off his feet and across the cabin, obviously wishing for his library, for the space that allows him grand gestures of anger without physical violence. As it is, he's coiled so tightly, she's afraid he might shake apart, finds herself pressing back against the seat, just trying to get out of the way of the shrapnel.

“Is this really what you want, Chloe?”

No, its not what she wants at all. But its what she can live with. What allows her to look at herself in the mirror every morning. And there's no way to explain any of that to him, without betraying Clark in the first place. So instead she answers the other question, the one that hangs unspoken between them.

Why won't you choose me?

“It's not about not loving you enough. If anything its because I love you too much.” It's the truth. Loving Lex is like breathing. An unconscious involuntary act she'll repeat for as long as she lives.

He drops his head and sighs, “What am I supposed to do with that?”

She honestly doesn't know. Doesn't have the first damn clue what they do now. “Move on. You have to move on, Lex.”

The moment she says the words, she knows its wrong. Lex goes still, so rigid he might shatter at the slightest touch, and then abruptly he shakes his head once, rejecting the premise. “No. I don't.”

More than anything those three words scare her. There's a steely resolve in them, like he's making solemn oaths and sacred vows, pledging away his life to bitterness and destruction and she doesn't know what to say to stop it.

Lex has declared war, and Clark doesn't even know why.

And she's trapped on the wrong side.

And in that moment she realizes something. Loving Lex might be like breathing, but a person can learn to hold their breath.

Over the next few months with Lex's actions and Lionel's help she learns to hold it longer and longer, sometimes manages to stop for minutes on end.

-----

Present

She dresses with the dawn, stands by the windows and watches the sun turn the city gold. He phones for coffee and she lets him, but they both know he's just postponing the inevitable.

Sure enough, when he comes over she doesn't smile at him. Doesn't look at him at all. They stand there watching the sunrise, daybreak and new beginnings, and it feels like an ending instead.

“This wasn't a mistake,” he argues against her silence.

She sighs and slumps against the glass. “That doesn't mean it can happen again.” Then almost to herself, “I can't do this again.”

“Is being with me that terrible?” He tries to make it a joke, but part of him is deadly serious, because honestly he doesn't know. Maybe its better for her with someone gentler, someone who doesn't have this insane need to claim her, to keep her, to fuck her in front of the city and mark her as his own.

As though her thoughts have followed his, Chloe trails her fingertips over the bite-mark on her neck in a way that's almost affectionate and undeniably erotic. Shaking her head, she replies, “No. That's always been the easy part. It's the leaving that's hard.”

“So don't.”

“Lex . . .”

Its a futile argument, a last ditch attempt, but he's a fighter and there's never been anything in his life more worth fighting for. “Just stay with me for the weekend.”

“And then you'll want a week, and then a month, and then what a year? Two years?”

“Forever. I want forever.”

She jerks her head away like he's slapped her. “I can't.”

“No.” Grabbing her arm, he spins her back around to face him, “You just won't.” Too late he realizes what he's doing, how tightly he's holding on, giving her a fresh new set of bruises to match the old. Abruptly he releases her and spins away, grabbing onto the edge of his desk instead.

“You have to let me go.”

They've had this argument before. It's tired and chewed over and the result is never going to change. She's the one good thing in his life, and he'll be damned if he gives up on it. “No. I don't.”

“You do.” Her voice has gone desperate and pleading, speaking to a part of him that should be long buried if he didn't keep digging it up every time he's within ten feet of Chloe. “It's killing you, Lex, eating you alive. You're holding on so tight you're strangling everything inside you that I love.”

He can feel her behind him, her breath on his neck, her body close to his, can feel the truth of her concern. But it doesn't matter, because it changes nothing. Because she'll still be gone. And she might leave him empty, but he refuses to let her leave him weak. So he thinks back to those emails and what they mean, thinks about Clark getting her smiles and her hugs, about some anonymous college freshman getting her body, and his father getting her words, and all he's left with is love she's trying to transmute into something else.

“Well that should be convenient for you.”


The bitterness in his voice makes her wince and the hand she'd been reaching out to him stalls, as though the walls he's throwing up have become physical. Impenetrable barriers separating them once again. She hates those walls, hates that's she responsible for at least some of them, wants to smash them, break through, tear them down, leave him open to someone again, even if its not her, even if she has to batter herself against them to do it.

“What are you doing with Lana?” The question is quiet. Tentative and tired. She scared of the answer. Whether its the one she expects or the one she doesn't, either way its going to hurt.

The question makes him turn, and the look he gives her is challenging. “We're just friends,” With a quirk of his lips he adds, “Like you and Clark.”

She flinches at that, at the implications and accusations in those words. So its what she thought. Lex is striking out, with poetic symmetry and his own twisted sense of justice. “Taking her from Clark isn't going to change anything.”

Walking back over to her, he reaches out to brush the bruise on her neck. “Tell him I'm willing to negotiate a trade.”

Despite the implacability of his words, his touch isn't quite impersonal, and she sucks in a startled breath as all the electricity comes back with frightening rapidity. Closes her eyes in shame as she realizes a little part of her is glad, is happy this is about them. Lex is working to destroy Lana and Clark's relationship out of no real emotion but spite, and she can't help but be a little bit pleased he's still entirely hers. Fighting the feeling, she forces herself to ask, “Do you at least like her?”

“She's not you.” He says it like its an answer. And maybe it is. But she doesn't know whether its a point for or against, whether he needs the space or hates the distance.

She wants to tell him not to do this, not for Clark or Lana, but for him, because he deserves better, deserves to love someone who will love him back.

But he already does and look what that got him.

So here they are, just where they've always been and there's nothing she can say or do to fix it, to make it better or make it right. Maybe this is fate or maybe that's just a cheap way not to take responsibility for her own stupidity and selfishness. She doesn't know.

It doesn't change anything anyways.

So for once she just lets herself do what she wants. Holds his face in her hands, pulls his mouth to hers. Kisses him in a way she hasn't in a long time, soft and sweet and lingering. One good memory he can keep in his pocket and she can tuck under her pillow. A talisman against the coming storm.

And then because she doesn't want to screw it up, wants this to be the way he remembers her, she walks away.


He stays perched against his desk long after she's gone, staring at her fingerprints on the window and trying to figure out how long he can keep the janitorial staff from cleaning them.



Four months later he kisses Lana in his library and thinks of Chloe standing there earlier in the day, of her parting words. If you hurt my friend there will be consequences and you're looking at her. She meant it as a threat and he took it as a promise.

You have to let me go.

No, he doesn't.

He'll keep her anyway he can.

He deepens the kiss.

Do you hate me, yet?

I'm working on it.

End

[tatie87]

Great ending. This was such a good story, I really enjoyed it.

[ChloeLovesLex]

Loved it.

That's all I need to say.

[purplemoon123]

WOW!!! This was amazing.

I have no other words but simply amazing!!!

[Kit Merlot]

This was a beautiful ending to a great story--excellent work;)

[Zannie]

That was just beautiful and heartbreaking. I figured this wasn't going to happy ending, but I think it concluded in a way that was infinitely appropriate for the characters as you developed them. And anything else would have felt false.

I think the way Clark and his secret came between them here is inevitable in a Chlex relationship when they both still care about that issue. There's just no way it wouldn't have consequences unless 1) Chloe no longer cares about Clark, or 2) Lex no longer cares about the secret.

The love scenes were vivid and powerful, and I loved the quick flashing between past and present.

This was a gorgeous, moving story and I'm so glad you wrote it!

[skauble]

Wow...this was an incredible story! Some stories are so filled with insight, so beautifully shaped and crafted that it makes me kind of embarrassed by my own writing. This would be one of those stories. lolol

Everything about this was perfection. You took all of the potential that SV had, every wasted moment and missed opportunity and gave them heartbreaking life.

More than that, you made so much sense of Lexana. You kept Lex as someone desperate to be loved, to be chosen, but you didn't have him funnel that to someone who was so incompatible with him and such a waste of his time. These two lines were beyond fantastic -


Walking back over to her, he reaches out to brush the bruise on her neck. “Tell him I'm willing to negotiate a trade.”

and


Four months later he kisses Lana in his library and thinks of Chloe standing there earlier in the day, of her parting words. If you hurt my friend there will be consequences and you're looking at her. She meant it as a threat and he took it as a promise.

That last sent shivers down my spine!

And you know that SV could have done this. They do so much important crap off screen that it would have been no problem to make this a huge twist in the story...

On the other hand, they would have monumentally screwed it up (like they always do) and I'd much rather have this haunting version paramount in my mind.

Amazing story!

~Sarah~

P.S. You know, sequels are beautiful things. lololol

[somethingeasy]

She wants to tell him she does understand, more than he'll ever know. Wants to tell him she knows exactly how special Alicia was, how special he is. Tell him she understands what its like to love someone, to know they're more than the worst thing they've ever done. But she can't find the words.

It's been a month now, and she still hasn't found the words. A month of knowing and lying and losing little pieces of herself to this secret.

She looks down at Alicia's grave and silently curses the dead girl.

What gave you the right?! What gave you the right to force this on me?

The chapter started off on a puzzling note for me. I was wondering what were we doing here with Clark and Chloe at the grave of some random one-time appearance character. And THEN the explanation was given out about how and why this was central to the issues and obstacles that lie between our beloved Chlex couple today. So THIS is where Chloe started off her new existence with the burden of Clark’s secret slowly breaking her life apart. I LOVED the way you made this quiet moment so pivotal. WOW!

I also LOVED the way that Chloe drew up parallels between the love that Clark once had for this morally dubious character and the love that SHE has for her own ‘bad boy Luthor’. I loved the fact that Chloe understood Clark better than he could possibly imagine, and it made me cry to see that they just couldn’t bond over this, because Chloe didn’t trust him (or herself) enough to tell her about her relationship with Lex.


“What do you know, Chloe?” He tries to keep his tone light, his manner teasing, but it isn't and he's not. Unraveling Clark Kent is a compulsion with him, a quest for understanding and self-knowledge he doesn't know how to quit, and until now she's always been on his side.

But Clark has saved her life, and more importantly he's saved Lex, more times than she can count, and though she'd give Lex all of her this isn't her secret to tell.

So she lies.

And he knows it.

And it feels like something died.

Oh my GOD! I loved how you captured the sheer tragedy of this moment, Cy! First of all, I loved the inevitability of Lex finding out. Chloe just KNEW that she wouldn’t be able to keep this newfound knowledge of hers a secret for long, and she was absolutely right.

Dear heavens, it was definitely creepy seeing how he knew immediately from her behaviour, not only that something had changed about Chloe, but also WHAT had changed. And it made me cry to see Chloe lying to him when you KNOW that he wasn’t fooled for even an instant.

I think the thing that killed me the most about this situation was the way that Lex simply accepted her lie without question, even though he knew he was being lied to, and he knew that SHE knew too. He was actually willing to put up with this bald-faced lying from Chloe, as long as he still got to be with her. He might be overly obsessed with Clark’s secrets, but you have got to love his priorities.


He's makes her feel like she's everything—the lottery and Charlie's golden ticket and King Solomon's Mines all in one. She's supposed to return the favor, to want him more than anything. She's supposed to choose him first.

And he thinks she's choosing someone else.

Wow! I LOVED the idea of Chloe finally feeling like the absolute, irreplaceable centre of someone’s world. It was especially amazing to see how much she cherished that feeling… which makes sense because she’s not like Lana who would take something like that for granted. She knows how very rare and precious it is to have someone adore you in that manner. Which made it all the more tragic because she knew she wasn’t returning the favour. She wasn’t making Lex feel as loved and cherished as he was making HER feel… and that knowledge was killing her. That was perfect Chloe characterization, Cy!


I'm not.

She whispers the words in her mind that night as she fucks him. Even as she says other things with her mouth, “God” and “Yes” and “Harder” and “Lex”, they all translate one way—You. I'm choosing you. And at the end when words have almost lost meaning and sense, she holds his gaze as she rides him to completion, willing him to understand what she can't explain. I'm choosing you. I'm being who you need me to be the only way I know how.

Still when he looks up at her in the afterglow, with something close to awe on his face, and whispers “I love you” with something like a plea in his voice, she knows it isn't enough.

Oh the angst and tragedy of this part. I loved how Chloe tried so damned hard to compensate for her secret keeping… that she tried very way possible to make Lex feel first in her love and heart, but she always felt it just wasn’t enough. And it was even more tragic seeing Lex didn’t mention a word of this to Chloe. Undoubted he felt he was being relegated to second place with her, but Not. One. Word of complaint from him.


When Lex pulls away its only to whisper one harsh raw word against her ear.

“Why?”

Because even now she still wants to tell him. Because if she stays with him she will.

Because she can't do that and be the Chloe he needs, the Chloe he loves. Because with all the sins she's committed, all the wrongs she's done, she can't add betrayal to the list. Because she's already used up her lifetime's allotment of forgiveness and now she has to be worthy of the grant.

And now we finally have our answer about why Chloe left Lex. Oh dear heavens, Cy! That was a brilliant new twist to a Chloe break-up. It was original and unique… and yet so fitting and perfect with these two characters. I loved the idea that Chloe forced herself away from Lex, not because she didn’t trust him not to pry (because he wasn’t), but because she didn’t trust herself not to just betray her beloved friend by blurting out his secrets.

It was such a perfect, fitting, tragic characterization to see Chloe deciding to choose to be miserably self-sacrificing and loyal rather than risk being passionately happy in betrayal. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she blurted out Clark’s secret in a happy giddy loving haze… so she decided to remain true to herself… even if it meant being miserable.

I felt my heart ache at the horrible way that Chloe ended the relationship too. She just went up and LEFT Lex? Without explanation or even goodbye? The poor man must have been desperate, miserable, bewildered and so frantic to know what happened… what he did wrong. This was EVIL, Cy! I loved it!


In the end, no one moves first, they just part, slip through each others fingers like smoke, transient and intangible and suffocating. He watches her go, stands in the shadows as she makes her way back to the well-lit entrance of the Talon. And though laughter and music spills into the alleyway, the noise of happiness rings hollow, so she can still hear the soft threat he whispers like a promise.

“I won't forgive him for this.”

It's the closest they ever come to talking about Clark.

They finally had their goodbye in the alleyway… which was a fitting place for such a pitiful, pathetic kind of goodbye. It was so SAD, Cy… seeing that beautiful, passionate, magnificent Chlex affair ending on such a pitiful, whimpering note. Brilliantly done! Brilliant writing!


Sometimes it feels as if they never happened. They've gotten so good at the pretense, at facing each other across the fault line of Clark Kent as uneasy adversaries, that he if didn't wake up nights hard and aching and reaching for her, if he didn't sometimes find himself standing in front of a window display staring blankly at a child's stuffed animal, if he didn't have his morning paper opened to the obituaries first, he could actually believe his time with Chloe was little more than a passing dream, a momentary delusion of his fractured mind.

squeee! I loved the description of beautiful ‘up against the windows’ sex :D It was amazing and HOT! I especially loved the description here about how Lex sometimes feels like this whole ‘relationship’ with Chloe is completely in his own head… something he made up to provide himself with some desperate solace and comfort from his miserable, isolated, lonely life. So it also makes a lot of sense about why Lex is so frantic to let everyone know about his and Chloe’s love and relationship… it would make it more ‘real’ and reaffirm it’s existence outside of his own head. I LOVED the way you’ve captured Lex’s delicate and semi-fractured psyche here. Brilliant!


He wants the world to her see like this, wants to put her up on a pedestal and bring civilization to its knees before her. But she'd never stand for it, so he'll settle for second best.

Beautiful! I loved seeing how much Lex DOTES on Chloe, and worships her. It’s such a damned shame that he wants nothing more than to devote his life to making her happy… but she won’t allow it. It’s such a shame to see what they’re BOTH missing out on.


“Open your eyes, Chloe,” he whispers the command against the nape of her neck, as he eases the zipper of her dress down those last few excruciating centimetres he couldn't be bothered with the first time. And when she obeys, lifts heavy lids to gaze out at the lights of the city scattered before her like jewels, he releases the silk he's been holding captive against her breasts, follows it down to the floor to kneel before her like a supplicant.

All of Metropolis at her feet . . .

I could give you this. If you'd let me, I could give you everything.

Oh dear heavens! That was beautiful! Not only the worship that Lex feels, but also the devotion and submission that he SHOWS. You know Lex is completely in love when he’s not afraid to show himself as completely submissive to someone.


So he blames Clark instead, justifies terrible acts and ruthless pursuit, as no less than his erstwhile friend deserves. Well earned punishments for believing his secrets are precious enough to ruin lives and destroy hearts.

I was curious about how much Lex understood about why Chloe wasn’t with him… and it seems like he understand everything completely. He even knows that the reason why Chloe left was because, while she was with him, she kept fighting the urge to betray her closest friend. AND he also knew that she wouldn’t be able to ‘get back that piece of herself’ if she actually followed through with the betrayal.

I loved, LOVED that Lex understood Chloe’s reasons for the break-up so well that he forgave her immediately for it. He really does love her completely and selflessly, doesn’t he? So much that, even when she hurts him, he even loves and admires her for THAT.

I can also understand why Lex decided to focus all of his hate onto Clark. I always thought that THIS was the main reason why Lex started to loathe Clark… not because of Clark’s hypocrisy or the way that Clark seemed to find people to trust and love him too easily to be borne, because he believed that Clark prized and protected his own secrets above the lives and loves of everyone around him.


He knows what she wants, the same thing he does . . . more. More of his mouth on her, his fingers inside. More sensation and more feeling. Wants to be pushed over the edge into oblivion.

But what he wants is more time.

She's letting him have tonight and he's trying to make it eternity by sheer force of will.

This was heartbreaking, Cy! I could see Lex mourning Chloe’s leaving him. Even when she was right there 100% with him at this current place and time, he still couldn’t stop himself from remembering how this was strictly temporary… and she will be leaving as soon as this evening is finished. He can’t even enjoy these stolen moments with Chloe without grieving. The poor man!


She'll have a bruise there tomorrow, will have to wear turtlenecks and scarves for a least few days, maybe more. He loves the idea, lathes the spot with his tongue, and worries it with his teeth and thinks about sending her a cashmere scarf in spring green.

He wants to mark her everywhere, give her five new bruises. As if the fact they're made in love could erase each of the ones that weren't.

But there are some things you can't take back.

Oh Cy! You’re trying to make me cry, aren’t you? And you’re succeeding too! It made me since to see how, even when he was touching her with such love and devotion, Lex kept on losing himself in the memories of times when he had been mean and rough with her. It seems like, even while making slow, beautiful love to Chloe, he still can’t help but feel pain, grief, repentance and regret.


“I suppose I deserve that.” It could be an apology, but there's a bite of accusation in his voice. He still views himself as the injured party in this.

And maybe on some level he still is. But he's let his wounds fester, let the infection spread and poison him, until he's become something she barely recognizes.

An animal might lash out because its hurt, but that only makes it more dangerous. Not less.

Wow! I loved the description about how Lex’s pain is actually making him more dangerous. It’s true that he’s suffering horribly from loneliness and neglect… but that same suffering is turning him into a monster. I also appreciated the description on how it’s BOTH Chloe’s and Lex’s fault that he’s turning out like this. She inflicted the pain on him in the first place, but he allowed that pain to twist him into someone horrible and vicious.


And maybe on some level she had, but she always thought she'd have more time. She'd thought she could make everything turn out so differently. Thought if she could just get Clark to trust her, see her as impartial, eventually she'd be able to get him to trust Lex, too. Thought she could be their bridge. Instead she's become the wedge, the thing driving them further apart.

You keep on hitting me with yet MORE heart-rending layers, Cy! I wanted to cry at the idea that, once upon a time, Chloe dreamed that she would be the ‘bridge’ who brings these two former friends back together again… and instead, it turns out that her clumsy manoeuvrings have made the situation exponentially worse. I know that Chloe will take this failure on a very personal level, and HATE herself for what she did, and what she allowed to happen.


“What do you want, Lex?”

“You.”

It was such a simply answer… and I can’t help but feel that, in Lex’s mind, it really IS that simple. That all the complications and difficulties will just melt away as soon as Chloe comes back to him.


Why won't you choose me?

“It's not about not loving you enough. If anything its because I love you too much.” It's the truth. Loving Lex is like breathing. An unconscious involuntary act she'll repeat for as long as she lives.

He drops his head and sighs, “What am I supposed to do with that?”

What a horrible thing to tell Lex. It might have been kinder to tell him that Chloe simply didn’t love him enough to stay with him… because then he could at least have aimed for the goal of winning over her love. Instead, she tells him she loved him ‘too much’… how the heck is he supposed to ‘solve’ a problem like that?! It must be killing an aggressively proactive man like Lex to simply not know what to do.


She honestly doesn't know. Doesn't have the first damn clue what they do now. “Move on. You have to move on, Lex.”

The moment she says the words, she knows its wrong. Lex goes still, so rigid he might shatter at the slightest touch, and then abruptly he shakes his head once, rejecting the premise. “No. I don't.”

More than anything those three words scare her. There's a steely resolve in them, like he's making solemn oaths and sacred vows, pledging away his life to bitterness and destruction and she doesn't know what to say to stop it.

Lex has declared war, and Clark doesn't even know why.

And she's trapped on the wrong side.

Heh… Chloe should seriously have known better than to have told Lex to ‘move on’. Lex is the kind of person who has embraced his obsessive personality. And anyone telling him that he’s ‘gone too far’, or ‘reaching beyond safety and sanity’ will only goad him to try harder and further.


And in that moment she realizes something. Loving Lex might be like breathing, but a person can learn to hold their breath.

Over the next few months with Lex's actions and Lionel's help she learns to hold it longer and longer, sometimes manages to stop for minutes on end.

You killed me with this, Cy! And I wonder whether Lex is also training himself, by similar increments, to ALSO ‘not love’ Chloe for a few longer seconds with every passing day.


“This wasn't a mistake,” he argues against her silence.

She sighs and slumps against the glass. “That doesn't mean it can happen again.” Then almost to herself, “I can't do this again.”

“Is being with me that terrible?” He tries to make it a joke, but part of him is deadly serious, because honestly he doesn't know. Maybe its better for her with someone gentler, someone who doesn't have this insane need to claim her, to keep her, to fuck her in front of the city and mark her as his own.

Oh poor Lex! I felt an ache at that lost, plaintive note in his voice when he tried to tell Chloe that ‘this wasn’t a mistake’. I can see it was killing him to imagine Chloe regretting what had just happed between them the previous evening.

And then I wanted to tackle Lex to a comforting bear-hug when he asked Chloe whether ‘being with him was really that terrible’. I could see he was actually wrestling with the notion that he COULD let Chloe go, if she convinced him that he was ‘bad for her’ in some way… too violent, mean, rough, abusive for her. He wants to keep Chloe, but not if being with him actually HURTS her.


As though her thoughts have followed his, Chloe trails her fingertips over the bite-mark on her neck in a way that's almost affectionate and undeniably erotic. Shaking her head, she replies, “No. That's always been the easy part. It's the leaving that's hard.”

And once again I can only imagine Lex’s frustration at this answer. It’s the same kind of answer as ‘I love you too much to be with you’. What the hell does he do to FIX this?!


“And then you'll want a week, and then a month, and then what a year? Two years?”

“Forever. I want forever.”

heh… I love how honest and upfront he was being about what he wanted. But he might have been better off being sneaky and telling Chloe that he only wanted this weekend… to start off with, LOL! Poor Lex… now is not the time to be direct and honest about everything you want from her.


“You have to let me go.”

They've had this argument before. It's tired and chewed over and the result is never going to change. She's the one good thing in his life, and he'll be damned if he gives up on it. “No. I don't.”

This was amazing, Cy! I loved the circular futility of their arguing. It’s a classic case of unstoppable force meeting an unmovable object. I love that one of them HAS to relent on a fundamental belief in order to be together… Either Chloe had to be willing to betray Clark, or Lex has to stop being so obsessed with Clark’s secret. But this issue is tied in to their basic natures, and they cannot submit on this… not without twisting some deep, inner part of themselves. That was brilliant, Cy!


“You do.” Her voice has gone desperate and pleading, speaking to a part of him that should be long buried if he didn't keep digging it up every time he's within ten feet of Chloe. “It's killing you, Lex, eating you alive. You're holding on so tight you're strangling everything inside you that I love.”

He can feel her behind him, her breath on his neck, her body close to his, can feel the truth of her concern. But it doesn't matter, because it changes nothing. Because she'll still be gone. And she might leave him empty, but he refuses to let her leave him weak. So he thinks back to those emails and what they mean, thinks about Clark getting her smiles and her hugs, about some anonymous college freshman getting her body, and his father getting her words, and all he's left with is love she's trying to transmute into something else.

“Well that should be convenient for you.”

That was beautifully done! I loved that short, sweet moment where, just for an instant, Lex actually heard the genuine care, love and concern in Chloe’s voice… and he WANTED to answer that care and concern by doing whatever she asked of him… even if it meant ‘letting her go’. But then he actually forced himself to dredge up all the horrible, bitter memory of events which hardened him, so he could turn harsh and bitter towards her again instead of sweet and melty like he WANTED.

This was yet another example on how these unfulfilled feelings for Chloe are twisting Lex into something harder, harsher and meaner than he really is. And Chloe can see it happening right in front of her eyes too. How tragic!


Walking back over to her, he reaches out to brush the bruise on her neck. “Tell him I'm willing to negotiate a trade.”

heh… it really is that simple for Lex, isn’t it? I LOVE that! I love the way that he’s being completely honest here… that he will drop Lana like yesterday’s newspaper in an instant if Chloe gives the slightest indication that she wants to be with him. It was just so creepy, but also so thrilling seeing Lex essentially describing Lana as a hostage in this terrible war.

I also loved the way that Chloe asked the question ‘why are you with Lana’. It wasn’t out of jealousy, but out of fear for what she suspected to be the truth… AND their was also a good amount of fearful jealousy there too. I loved her twisted schizophrenic emotions there.


“She's not you.” He says it like its an answer. And maybe it is. But she doesn't know whether its a point for or against, whether he needs the space or hates the distance.

heee!! Still those beautiful schizophrenic feelings which I adore, where Chloe wishes Lex to move past her, but dreads the day it actually happens.


So for once she just lets herself do what she wants. Holds his face in her hands, pulls his mouth to hers. Kisses him in a way she hasn't in a long time, soft and sweet and lingering. One good memory he can keep in his pocket and she can tuck under her pillow. A talisman against the coming storm.

And then because she doesn't want to screw it up, wants this to be the way he remembers her, she walks away.

That kiss was beautiful, soft, sweet and swoon-worthy… but it was a mistake, Chloe! It might have been kinder to just walk away without giving into the impulse to giving him a soft, loving goodbye kiss. You know that Lex is going to be replaying that kiss in his head for months and YEARS after this. He’s never going to let go of the memory of that beautiful, unmatchable kiss.


He stays perched against his desk long after she's gone, staring at her fingerprints on the window and trying to figure out how long he can keep the janitorial staff from cleaning them.

Brilliant Cy! I can just imagine Lex subtly manipulating his cleaning staff around for the next week, trying to keep the smears on the windows without letting the staff know the smears are important to him. AND I can also imagine him looking at those smears, whenever he’s alone, with that horrible mixture of joy, ecstasy, regret, bitterness, despair that he feels every time he EVER thinks of Chloe Sullivan.


Four months later he kisses Lana in his library and thinks of Chloe standing there earlier in the day, of her parting words. If you hurt my friend there will be consequences and you're looking at her. She meant it as a threat and he took it as a promise.

You have to let me go.

No, he doesn't.

He'll keep her anyway he can.

He deepens the kiss.

Do you hate me, yet?

I'm working on it.

Wow! What a chilling ending, Cy! So Lex has decided that, if he can’t have Chloe’s love in a relationship, he’ll take her hostile, enmity instead. I LOVE the way you’ve captured Lex’s personality where you can see he essentially never cared what kind of attention or connection he shared with someone he cared about, as long as it was intense, powerful and memorable. He can settle just as easily for being hated by someone he loves as easily as he can strive for their love… as long as they don’t ignore or forget him. Brilliant characterization!

What an amazing, brilliant and PERFECT ending, Cy! I thought it was amazing that this story essentially ended with the characters in the same place that they started, but our enjoyment of the narrative was all about how they got to this situation. Amazing writing!

I look forward to more of your writing in future fics. Good luck and best regards!

[wistfulwatcher]

Wow. Just...wow. That was so incredibly beautiful, and awful, and perfect. I loved the ending. It was so sad, and yet still sweet enough and real enough that it didn't leave me feeling upset.

I am so glad you're a Chlexer. 'Cause, ya know, you'd make one heck of an adversary if you were a Chlarker.

Thank you for a magnificent fic.

WW

[dagney]

Brilliant, so-heartbreaking made me cry. You are a gifted writer and able to give the reader such complex emotions-dialog that conveys so much emotion. I look foward to more of your work. Dagney

[Hathor18]

This story is amazing. I should have expected it to end on a sad note, but I was really hoping for a happy ending.

[malugargula]

Wonderful fic
:)
I loved it

[hannagreen20]

WOW! I just...I keep trying to walk away from the whole Chlex thing especially since the disaster that is the show but YOU ARE AMAZING. What a great job nice and angsty, I need to read something sweet and uplifting. Ooo, you could update Christmas in Metropolis! ;)

Great job again!

[Nimmie]

Well done, so fluid and intense, and polished. Really truly felt this. I'm very impressed.

Thanks
N

[westwingwolf]

I loved it and I so cried. First off it explains so well all those important Chlex moments in Lexmas like Lex was searching for her to pick him in some way. It explains the gap of them moving away from each other in 4 season and Lex's need to get back at Clark through Lana. When Chloe told Lex about the pregnancy, I couldn't choose a side because they both were so earnest about their choice and my heart broke for both of them. And I just wanted to scream at Chloe to tell Lex but I get that she sees that she can't tell him Clark's secret and it's breaking her. I can also see that in some way him knowing wouldn't do any good, could make him worse, but apparently not much because like she realized she's only given Lex more reason to hurt him. He doesn't know the exact reason for Clark's secret but he's so close now that it doesn't really matter because he can destroy him all the same. And I know that in Chloe's mind she can't be the one who gave Lex the information that was the final nail in his coffin. She may be the one who leads Lex to this route, but as long as she's not doing anything to actually betray Clark's trust, she's not to blame and giving up her life to help him is her way of saying that she's sorry for making Lex do this to him. That if she can't stop Lex, she can help ease the pain he will cause and her life and happiness means nothing. All the same I want to scream and say Clark doesn't deserve it but like Lex said this is Chloe and if she didn't do this then she wouldn't be Chloe.

[ThraceC]

Cy,

This isn't so much an angst story as it is a Greek tragedy. Never has it been more clear that the failure of their relationship is driven by basic character flaws. Creating their own inevitable defeat.

Lex's inability to be trustworthy being predicated upon the fact that he's never been trusted or trusting leading to this irreconcilable rift.

Though I admit that even in stories with unhappy endings my brain will still come up with ways to make it right, in the end.

I'm not disputing your artistic choice to end it the way you did, it's consistent with the story and the characterizations. There's just a fundamental part of me that refuses to accept hopelessness.

Very well written, keep em coming! ;)

[elementia]

Woah, that was so intense!
I loved it!!

[dkfuryan]

totally intense story, really loved it.
I think that you captured Lex's inner rage / desperation really well. Love / hate is a very close thing

[emms14]

So I can for the life of me figure out why I feel like I've read this story before. Maybe I have...who knows. In any case, it was wonderfully heartbreaking. It seems that Lex is to forever torture himself with a past he can't give up and Chloe might be too eager to give up. Anyways, awesome job and I really enjoyed reading it (or rereading?).

-emms14

[mesha82]

amazing story

[meeaz]

This is my favorite Lex and you've done an excellent job in creating this alternate past for Chloe and Lex. It's so beautiful and tragic at the same time.

[cousinmary]

Ah, I had a taste for angst this morning. Great job :)

[Ami Rose]

Love it! Sweet, twisted and sad! I really didn't like Clark and Alicia in this fic... Chlex haters! Lol!

[shadowflame89]

I absolutely love the way you write. Chloe and Lex are spot on.
I love your writing, keep up the good work :)