Shadows (PG-13)

[beautiful N' Bruised]

Summary: Will Clark's behaviour push Chloe over to the dark side and into the clutches of a certain Criminal Mastermind?


Genera: Drama. Darkfic.


Disclamier: Only tthe darkness is mine. Actually maybe that's not mine either...


Authors note: So I decided it wasn't enough to toture ya'll with 'Unwinding,' so I'm udating an old fic 'Shadows' here too. This was my first fic. Note that the Chlex begins to develop in this fic, but doesn't fully appear until the sequel 'In the Dark' Also note, since this is a futurefic Lex is quite the pussycat he is in Smallville


Shadows


Chapter One

It was a really nondescript restaurant with small round tables covered with red-checked tablecloths and the lighting sleazy-low. Not at all the type of place you’d expect to go with Lex Luther. Chloe’s hands were entwined with his and resting on the empty table. Both of them wore black leather gloves. A gun rested in each of their laps.

They sat in silence waiting.

A few minutes passed, and Clark arrived, beautiful woman Lois Lane, on his arm. His face briefly registered shock at seeing Chloe his eyes wandered down to the hands on the table, but not for long, business came first as usual.

"You wanted to see us Lex" He said, his voice cold as ice.

"Mmm, please sit," Lex replied hands entangling from Chloe’s, but not bothering to stand up as etiquette and manners, but not guns on laps, required.

Chloe watched as Clark subtly used his x-ray vision to scan under the table and spotted the guns. Moving quickly he put Lois behind him.

Chloe leapt to her feet at the same time as Lex did, guns in hands. Lex unloaded a couple of dozen kryptonite-coated bullets from his gun, with his trademark smirk. Clark staggered, and fell.

That left the lovely Lois unprotected, and Chloe, with a grin, following Lex’s lead blasted bullets into Miss Lanes face, ‘not so pretty now huh!’

The restaurant faded away until it was just Chloe and Lex standing in nothingness. Smiling at him Chloe wiped a few stray drops of blood off his face.
*
She stood beside Lex at the top of the LexCorp headquarters. At 99 stories it was by far the tallest building in Metropolis. The walls of the 99th floor were completely glass enabling her to see the streets of Metropolis in all directions.

They flowed with blood.

"Beautiful…" Lex breathed staring at the scene below.

He turned around slightly to face her, the fingers of one hand grazing her cheeks.

"Thank you Chloe, thank you so much…"

Waking up suddenly, the pitch-black darkness of her bedroom pressing down on her, Chloe tried hard not to remember what she’d just dreamt. Switching on her beside lamp she tired to delude herself that sleep would eventually come.

***
With a little mental discipline Chloe was almost back in Smallville, sixteen and waiting for Clark in The Talon or The Beanery.

All she had to do was not look too closely at the way the other customers were dressed, business men and women grabbing lunch, and not notice how everything moved at a speed you’d never see in a languid Smallville café, and she was almost there.

Almost, but not quite, she couldn't ignore the fact that she herself was dressed in a smart little skirt suit, her hair arranged in a chic and neat twist her younger self would have laughed at. Or the fact that she hadn't seen Clark in two months, despite that they lived almost nearer to each other in Metropolis than they had Smallville.

The absence was largely due to Clark being too busy to see her.

Swirling her coffee which had gone cold she noted that she'd been waiting for Clark twenty minutes, despite purposely arriving fashionably late for their lunch date.

She wished she’d brought her laptop or something to distract her, didn't he realise that her time was precious too? She felt the familiar hurt and anger begin to build up inside her and quickly squashed them down. She’d been having disturbing thoughts recently and crucially needed to see Clark’s sunny smile to quell them.

But as she watched the minutes tick by, she couldn’t help but indulge in a bitter thought, or two.

It was far too tempting to imagine Lex’s face when she informed him of the not so little secret Clark had been hiding all these years and to imagine, just for once, her causing Clark pain and not the other way round.

It was all too easy to think how strange it was that he was the one with the secret it but seemed she was always the one who ended up pretending.

Pretending it was okay that Lana and a trail of short lived obsessions always came first and she was ‘just Chloe’ heart handed back with a polite but firm thanks but no thanks, feigning she could just switch off her feelings to suit his will.

Cat and mouse, I want you, I don’t, I see you, I don’t, I care, I’m too busy, try harder, don’t bother at all.

But worst of all was the pretending that came as a result of knowing him too well, well enough to know he was Superman.

So many times she’d dropped hints and paved the way for him to open up and tell her, and so many times she’d been meet with a blank indifferent gaze.

And since Superman had no time for Ms Sullivan and granted all his interviews to the beautiful and talented Miss Lane, her pride prevented her from saying a word.

Seemed he’d forgotten who’d introduced him to the world of journalism in the first place.

Ironically the only exclusive interviews she had a right to, were with Lex Luthor. Perhaps it was sentimental; maybe he was another who looked back on the Smallville days with an ache in his heart. Though it was more likely some twisted private joke of his.

Deep down she knew she was a good person and didn’t want to hurt anyone, but there was only so much a person could take before they snapped and Clark had been pushing her dangerously close to that point for a long time.

She sighed as her cell phone jingled with the tune she’d programmed specially for when Clark phoned.

“Hello Chloe,”

“Clark – ”

“Look I’m sorry I couldn’t make it, something came up, I’ll phone you, we’ll arrange something okay? I’ve got to go now bye…”

And then her phone was beeping three times indicating that the call was over.

Tossing some money towards the cashier she hurried out of the coffee shop and into the bright summer day, blinking as her eyes adjusted. She wound her way through people-packed streets until she came to a small electrical store, its window displaying the latest TV sets switched on and connected to different channels.

The absence of a telltale crowd told her she wouldn’t find what she was looking for, but she looked anyway, searching the screens one by one. There was no sign of a red cape anywhere.

Of course not all of Supermen’s saves were Television worthy, but still.

Her cell phone was still in her hand, and she flipped half-absently through the saved numbers until she found Lex Luthor’s.

Chloe wasn’t going to do anything drastic, she just needed someone who she could bitch about Clark with. Okay so there was a niggling thought that she shouldn’t risk it whilst she was feeling so emotionally vulnerable and not so inclined to keep Clark’s secret for him.

Pushing aside her doubts, Chloe dialled the number. It was about time for an interview anyway.

“Hello, Lex Luthor’s office.” A female voice answered, both professional and doing a bad job of masking irritation. No one liked an interruption in the tight ship Lex ran and the woman probably wanted to get straight to the point.

“Chloe Sullivan speaking I’d like to arrange a meeting with Mr. Luthor.”

“I’m sorry Ms Sullivan, Mr. Luthor is out of town at the moment’”

Chloe couldn’t help but be amused at the less than subtle female rivalry laced with smugness she could hear in the sentence. And she couldn’t resist a dig.

“Oh yes, I remember, silly me, I’ll call him on his cell.”

Ending the phone call she smiled to herself. It was childish but she couldn’t miss an opportunity to stir the jealousy of his secretary. She remembered her now, curly red hair and contact lens green eyes, beautiful in a really overdone way. She had been bristling all over as she let Chloe in to see him.

It was a five-minute cab ride back to her apartment, and she spent it on a pointless phone call to avoid thinking about anything Clark related, but the silent rooms that greeted her when she got home were no distraction. Since she’d resigned from The Planet a couple of years ago due to a number of ‘disagreements,’ she’d been freelancing. Which meant her home was her office, and too often she sat with nothing to do feeling like an unemployed bum. Both The Metropolis Inquisitor and The Metropolis Journal had offered her jobs, but her pride had made her refuse. Now her name was slowly but surely becoming known in the world of journalism, and she got far more recognition than she ever had working on second rate stories for The Planet, but it was incredibly lonely.

Her laptop was set up and waiting for her but she found herself wandering the apartment aimlessly, picking things up and putting them down again, winding her way steadily towards the picture collage she had in one of the spare bedrooms.

On it were pictures of everyone she cared about. Photos of her with her father, simple times that seemed eternally special now that they could never be repeated, and snapshots of friends from throughout her life, from elementary school to collage.

A large percentage of the board was dominated by pictures of Clark, his model perfect face peaking out in all sorts of expressions, but always with deceptively earnest eyes.

One by one she took them down: Clark at graduation, Clark laughing with Pete, Clark serious, Clark sleeping, Clark mopping, Clark on his father’s motorbike. She dropped them on the floor, one on top of the other.

It was childish, but strangely therapeutic, and she could almost hear her hypothetical shrink approving.

Removing a picture of her and Clark, Chloe uncovered a photo of him with Lex. She’d purposely hidden it away when they’d had parted company in a completely decapitating yet secretive manner. Just another thing Clark never shared with her.

Just a small photo of two guys, but it stood for so much.

It was her own private joke, not many in the world would understand it. Clark would, but he definitely wouldn’t be amused. He never was one to appreciate her unique sense of humour.

She had taken it during freshman year, when Clark had run for class president, and lost. She had caught him with Lex at the after elections party, laughing over something. It wasn’t completely unusual to see Clark taking a break from his teenage angst, but still it was still special, and it was entirely rare to see Lex looking happy and almost carefree.

So she’d just had to capture it.

Noticing her snapping away Clark had said, “Need another picture of the loser for the winning candidate to gloat over?” and he had proceeded to make really silly upset faces.

Lex tried to follow suit, failed miserably, (in a total break from tradition), but lost his distance, looked normal, human.

On the surface it was just a picture of two guys like any other.

And knowing what she knew about Clark Kent, and knowing what everyone knew about Lex Luthor it had always amused the hell out of her.

It stood out no on the board which was looking decidedly naked and it jarred her awake from her self-induced hypnotic state and she felt anger stir in her once again.

The amount of power she held over Clark and he knew nothing about it. She sighed and dragged herself back to her laptop and to work.

***

Chloe’s skin was lobstered when she came out of the shower the next morning owing to the fact she’d had the temperature up far too high. But the cliqued purifying act had done nothing to dispel the red she saw every time she blinked.

She’d woken up with a very vague but nonetheless disturbing recollection of a dream backslash nightmare that made her glad she wasn’t superstitious.

Wrapped only in a towel she found herself trailing a path of water drops to the picture collage she’d half dismantled the day before. The pile of impeached Clark pictures still lay haphazardly on the floor as though waiting for some sort of closure, only the picture of him and Lex retained its place on the board.

Somehow it didn’t seem so funny anymore. Two people who were close enough to make her constantly jealous, suddenly only communicated by defaming each other in public. Their pseudo-sadness in the photograph seemed too much like an omen come true, caricatured and distorted.

Pulling it off, she held the picture by the edge trash-style and looked around for somewhere to put it.

She’d twirled around herself twice with the thing dangling between her fingers before she was overcome with the silliness of what she was doing. Now she was seeing premonitions in bad dreams and ink on paper? As a last attempt to regain her self-respect she tucked the picture behind another one on her board so only Lex was showing.

Turing her back on the room she checked the time, just past ten. She was leaving for Smallville for a weekend visit, after much insistence from Lana and Pete and needed to make it out of the house before her efficient but nosy cleaning lady came. Normally it amused her to listen to the woman’s nattering on about everything and anything, but there was something she really didn’t want to talk about and Mrs. Blake would insist on dissecting the topic.

All she needed to do was pack an overnight bag and wrap Lana and Pete’s housewarming present. It was the hair taming that would take time.

*

Chloe was stood about to leave when her front door opened and a plump woman in her late fifties strolled in like she owned the place.

As well as her usual handbag she carried a rolled up newspaper tucked under her arm.

“Chloe dear, just the person I wanted to see!” She said, her English accent cutting bluntly through the silence.

“Well Mrs. B, I think you came to the right place.”

“None of that sarcasm with me young lady,” the woman replied, taping Chloe on the head with the newspaper. “Come, we have something to discuss.”

“Really, Mrs. B. I have to go…”

“It’s a Saturday, I’m sure whatever you have to do can wait.” Mrs. Blake replied dragging her to the kitchen table and spreading the newspaper out.

The familiar article gazed up at Chloe accusingly.

“Now I know you’ve been avoiding me since this issue came out, but I feel we need to talk about it.”

“What’s to talk about? Lane wrote an article about me. The end ”

Mrs. Blake stared at her incredulously. “ Chloe dear, have you even read this article?”

Chloe sighed loudly in reply and made a show of looking at her watch.

Mrs. Blake of course ignored her, got out her glasses and started to read, out loud.

Like Chloe really needed to hear it again. The article was bitchy beyond belief. It was basically a review of Chloe’s work on Lex Luthor in which Miss Lane accused her of being ‘reverential’ and ‘hero-worshipping’ a man whom Lane considered to be ruthless and power obsessed and dangerous.

The article in itself was no a problem, Chloe wasn’t one to be upset by every criticism, and besides a mention in the Daily Planet of any kind had to be a good thing it was more publicity for her work.

But the fact that it was written by Lois Lane, Clark’s partner, stung more than a little, and the ugly and completely unnecessary picture of Chloe that accompanied it had to be from Clark’s collection. She’d been hoping that when she met him for lunch he’d tell her that Lois had taken it without him knowing.

Now however, stood up and apologised to with a the briefest of phone calls, there was room for her to question where his loyalties lay.

Mrs. B. had finished reading and was staring intently at Chloe. “Are you going to let that snotty woman get away with it?” Her tone was at once motherly and protective and Chloe was surprised at the emotions it stirred inside her.

She tired to sound nonchalant in her reply. “It’s a free world, she can write what she wants.”

Mrs. Blake looked genuinely shocked “What no sarcastic comment? No ‘don’t worry Mrs. B I’ve already hired a hit-man’?”

The warm feeling in Chloe’s stomach ebbed away to be replaced with a queasy uneasiness that told her perhaps she’d better see Clark before she left.

***

Clark wasn’t in, but somehow Chloe couldn’t make herself drive away, instead she sat in her car parked across from his apartment block like some stalker. She tried reasoning with herself that she was only going away for a couple of days and wasn’t even leaving Kansas, but she couldn’t help but feel that she’d be miserable all weekend if she didn’t talk to him.

And yet phoning him, chasing him down, would just look desperate. She had her hand on the ignition key about to drive away when she spotted Clark arriving. He looked really happy and was actually whistling.

The bag in his hand, Chloe decided, was most definitely a sports bag and not an overnight bag, never mind that it was only eleven in the morning and did Superman really need exercise anyway?

He hadn’t yet noticed her, and she decided against just walking up to him stalker style, subtler and more polite to phone him first. Ignoring her indignant pride, she dialled his number and saw him retrieve his phone from his pocket. She watched as he read the display and pressed a button that cut her off.

~ Hello this is Clark Kent, I’m unable to take your call at the moment, please leave a message after the tone. ~

***

[tigerbaby]

I read this and the sequel over at ff.net and I'm glad you brought it over here. I can't remember if In the Dark was finished though but I loved that as well.

[asharnanae]

:biggrin: after reading tigerbabys post I todled off over to ff.net and found the rest of this, up to ch.6 of In the Dark. I hope you plan to carry on that fic!! I really want to know waht happens, glad the story found it's way hear too!! more soon as ya can!!

[beautiful N' Bruised]

Chapter Two


Chapter Two


Normally Chloe enjoyed the rare times she went on long car journeys. She’d turn the radio on really loud, wind down the windows, and lose her cares down miles of Kansas roads. But the image of Clark’s latest betrayal haunted her the whole trip. It seemed a small and insignificant on its own, but as the accumulation of so many things, it was a dagger in the chest. It didn’t matter just how loud the music played, or whether she sang along or not, unwelcome thoughts drifted through her mind, one after another, leaving irreconcilable black ice lodged in her heart.

Her feet crunched on newly laid gravel as she left her car and headed towards the Smallville cemetery, with a bunch of flowers clutched tightly in her hands. She tried to concentrate on the task at hand. She’d always had a problem with visiting her father’s grave. She too often got there, only to find herself mentally somewhere else, daydreaming about anything and everything just to avoid the pain.

Sometimes though, the pain was all she had.

He was buried at the edge of the cemetery close to where the nearby woods began, but far enough so that his tombstone was never touched by the shadows of the trees. It was like he had been in life, a shiny star, bright yet hidden from the world’s view by a small town and his own humility.

Gabe Sullivan - Beloved father and friend.

“But you were my hero, and you died being a hero.” She whispered, gently laying down the flowers. They were wilted from travelling in the backseat of her car with summer rays concentrated upon them by the glass windows. They were unworthy of such a great man, she felt unworthy, and for the first time in a long time she felt the tears begin to flow, and felt the memories struggling to emerge. Half falling, Chloe sat on the ground, her eyes misty.

Crystal clear, she could remember everything as though it had happened yesterday. Lana had been out on a date with Pete, one of their first, and Chloe was spending some quality time alone with her dad. They were watching an old film that they both loved and had seen enough times that they knew it all by heart. She’d just split up with Clark, and her father was being there for her in his own way. The shrill ringing of the phone had broken their delicate reverie, and her fathers eyes looked guilty as he told her that he needed to go to the plant. Part of her had whispered, maybe now you can get some quiet, maybe now you can sneak off to the office of The Torch to mope in peace. But the good daughter in her, the one that was grateful for his unspoken support, told him she needed to get out of the house, and a drive would be perfect, so she’d go with him.

If one good thing could be said about the whole tragedy, it was the beauty of Chloe’s last moments with her father as they drove to the plant. It was the only hazy part, the only thing that happened that day she couldn’t remember word for word, minute by minute.

Only vague pictures remained, gorgeous images of laughter and sunshine, silly jokes and goofy grins. She was never sure if they actually happened or if they were just an invention of a mind searching for comfort.

Then the sharp memories, cutting in their clarity, familiar as her own face in the mirror she’d played them out in her head so many times: the cordoning off, her fathers shocked face, not being allowed in, his insistence, being left alone outside to wait, the explosion, clawing at their faces, trying to go after him, being held back.

Then the moment where everything changed.

The funeral was the first time Chloe saw her mother after she’d left them so many years ago. Even through the tears and pain and the disbelief and the denial she recognised her. Similar to Chloe in coloring, she was different in every other way. Tall where Chloe was petite, slim and graceful where Chloe was curvy and cute. But the woman’s presence, whatever was meant by it, was far too little far too late. As the funeral finished Chloe had allowed herself to be covered with the protective cloak of friends and lead away. From that moment on she’d considered herself an orphan.

She found a way to hide from the pain by immersing herself in guilt laying and obsession. It was easier to deal if she could blame everything on someone and Lex Luthor was the obvious target. She spent months hacking into files, trying to search for incriminating evidence, something to say it wasn’t an accident, something that would justify her craving for retribution.

Resolution came one midnight in the form of Lex on her doorstep looking young and almost sorrowful. He’d handed her three floppy disks and told her everything she’d been searching for was in them. Snatching them out of his hand she’d tried to close the door in his face, but he’d jammed his foot in the doorway, and let himself in. He had sat on the sofa and watched silently for two hours as she read through the reports. “I’m sorry, Chloe,” was all he’d said as she finally finished, she’d nodded granting him her forgiveness. Police reports, company records, government investigation, it was an accident, and no-one was to blame, and that was what hurt the most. He had slipped away and then Chloe was left alone filling the quiet house with the sound of her sobs until the sun rose.

Her dad had been known by few, and had worked in a job that many could have done. But he’d raised her alone, making mistakes but always trying his hardest, and sometimes Chloe felt she’d never be as great as he had been.

Chloe stood up realising her legs were cramped and that she had no idea how long she’d been sitting there. Her eyes were dry, although the pain in her chest was still there, but she smiled, thinking of him.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” A male voice said, respectfully hushed.

She turned around slowly, dusting down her trousers.

Lex Luthor stood sheltered in the shadow of the surrounding trees, dressed all in black, and holding a large bunch of flowers in his hands. He was almost an apparition after all she’d been recalling.

“Not at all Lex, actually I was just leaving.” She hid her surprise behind a smile.

“I was passing by and I brought these.” He said, gesturing with the flowers.

“So you’re the one whose been bringing them?”

“I’m sure I’m not the only one.”

She nodded, it was true, but his flowers were distinct from anyone else’s, more expensive and somehow grander. Distant alarm bells rang at the back of her mind, it was almost too big a coincidence how there were always flowers from him when she came, but she swallowed it down. Lex always made her feel slightly uneasy, though she would never show it, something about money and power and too much self-assurance.

He stepped closer and she could see him blink briefly as his eyes adjusted to the bright light of the sun. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone exposing a thin shard of flesh. His skin was so pale, especially against the background of the complete blackness of his clothes. It made her think of redheads and their susceptibility to sunburn. Would he consider sunblock a weakness she wondered?

He gave her the flowers and she laid them next to her own bunch, which appeared even more shrivelled in comparison. What did it mean, she wondered, that the head of a multi-billion dollar corporation, left flowers at the grave of a long ago employee who’d been no more than the lowly manager of his fertilizer plant.

By unspoken agreement they walked together through the woods to the car park.

“Passing through here or passing through Smallville?” she asked.

He gave her a half-smile in reply. “Actually I’m in Smallville on business, and, unfortunately for the both of us, it’s nothing scandalous or exciting.”

“A shame.” She said. Grinning she let it go, although it was hard to believe Smallville business was important enough to drag him away from his Metropolis headquarters.

His car was nearer than hers was and they reached it first. The cars he rode nowadays were more subdued than those of his youth. So it was a pleasant surprise to see a brand new Porsche, sleek as a black panther waiting chaufferless for him to manoeuvre at his will. “Ah, I see you revert back to your dark and sordid sports car past when you’re in Smallville.” It explained the black driving gloves that covered his hands and made him look simultaneously intriguing and sinister.

“Chloe, what are you doing in Smallville?” Lex asked, as if continuing their previous conversation and ignoring her comment. His gaze was intense, as always she felt as though her mind contained some essential truth that he was tying to extract through sheer force of will. Oh if you knew what I knew Lex…

It briefly occurred to her that maybe he was implying she was there because he was, that she was chasing him for a story and a defensive answer founds it’s way to the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it down dismissing the thought as paranoid nonsense.

“Visiting friends – Lana and Pete, you know they got married three months ago?”

“I know.” The half smile appreared once more. It seemed a personification of everything bittersweet. “Where are you planning to stay?”

Chloe frowned slightly at the strangeness of the question. “At their house, I see them so rarely I want to make use of the time as much as possible.” She looked away from him to the perfect curves of his car. “Besides, my family home was sold.” She was drifting again into memories, of days past, her and her dad and Lana, a real family despite being unconventional.

“Well if you change your mind you’re welcome to stay at the mansion.”

Her eyes found his again, and she found herself more surprised by this one sentence then she had been at his appearance or by the flowers.

“It’ll be a chance to make up for the review you received by Lane on my behalf.” He was explaining, unfazed by whatever expression she wore on her face.

She had liked Lex ever since he’d brought her healing in the form of three brightly colored floppy disks. That hadn’t changed even after Clark’s Lex compass had suddenly swung 180 degrees from love to hate and he’d gone around warning away from Lex the very people he’d previously defended him to. But really, Lex was taking being considerate towards the small people below to a whole new level.

Somewhere Lionel Luthor was tossing in a ridiculously expensive grave.

“Well I don’t really recall it was the most generous article to you either.” She said finally.

It was his turn to look away as he laughed softly, taking off a leather glove and trailing it across his naked fingers. “I’m used to criticism, and Miss Lane is really quite a spunky one.”
And there it was in his face, the flash of a dark expression, like the glint of light reflected off a hidden knife. There then gone in the time it took Chloe to suppress a shiver.

“So what do you say?” he asked fixing that half-seductive half-invasive gaze on her again.

Clark had hurt her so often and so much, and here was Lex, near enough to lean into and kiss, inviting to his mansion. She could say yes and realise all of the plans that had been forming unaided in her mind as though with a life of their own.

But Lana and Pete, and she shouldn’t, she couldn’t.

Letting out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, she shook her head slightly. “I promised Lana and Pete.”

Lex was looking at her strangely, like he’d caught her inner conflict, heard the conversation she’d had with herself. “You might change your mind.”

“Why would I do that?”

He slipped the black glove back on. “I’ll have the staff aware that I’m expecting you, just in case.”

She opened her mouth to call arrogance where she saw it, but he was moving closer and taking one of her hands in his covered ones. “Who knows maybe I’ll see you later.”

Then letting her hand go he slipped inside his car.

Chloe watched him drive away until his car rounded a curve, and was obscured from view by the trees.

She grabbed her jacket as she hopped into her own car feeling slightly cold. Had the temperature fallen, she wondered? It didn’t matter, what mattered was she was late and her mobile which lay conspicuously on the passenger seat (something she could never risk in Metropolis) was registering four missed calls meaning Lana and Pete were worried.

[hfce]

I read this over at FF.net . I am glad you brought it over here.



Hope :biggrin:

[tigerbaby]

You would think with the invitation to the manor that Lex knows something.

[scifichick774]

Yay! So glad you're posting this one here too. :)

[happy bunny]

YAY! :biggrin: I'm so happy you decided to bring this over here! *does little happy dance* Now post more.

[beautiful N' Bruised]

A/N will finish posting when I get home from work - can't open a page titled Naughty_seduction at work, duh! - though it seems like everyones already read it?


Chapter Three


Clay bricks, tiled roof, picket fence and sized for two, Lana and Pete’s house was essentially unremarkable. But as Chloe stood just inside the garden gate looking at it, she saw more. Something about the way the roses in the front garden were arranged, about what showed through the glass window, brought across the essence of their marriage: a queer but apt mixture of Lana’s quiet grace and elegance and Pete’s relentless quirkiness.

Chloe’s colorful thoughts were interrupted by the flinging open of the front door, and the emergence of Lana half running towards her. She collided into Chloe enveloping her in a hug, and half spinning her around with the impact.

“Nice to see you too, Lana,” Chloe said. It was supposed to sound snarky, but unexpected emotions crept through and she had to swallow down a lump. Regaining her composition as though it had never been lost, Chloe pushed her away and held her at arms length examining her like an aunt would. “Nope, still the same,” she concluded. In fact Lana looked almost exactly like she had the night they had graduated from Smallville High and were tossed out into the big wide world.

“It’s been three months were you expecting an extra head?” Lana teased.

“Well, it is Smallville, so it’s always a good idea to check,” Chloe replied.

But it was easy to tell that Lana *had* changed; every move of hers made it clear. She’d given up the cloak of sadness that had oppressed her so much in the past. Behind the beautiful but ever-serious young girl, a young woman, just as beautiful but much more vivacious, was revealed.

Taking her by the arm, Lana led Chloe towards the house. “I thought maybe we’d lost you to a story.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for a Pulitzer.”

Lana smiled and shook her head slightly keeping whatever she was thinking inside. They were just outside the front door, and she paused. “Well here’s a real front page exclusive for you; Pete’s cooking!”

The hallway was small, narrow and noisy. Breaking free of her friend’s arm Chloe stopped to listen. Over kitchen-y sounds of steam and frying pans, Pete’s voice carried loud and clear singing a love song completely out of tune and completely at ease.


Closing the door behind them, Lana wrinkled her nose, “I know, he’s awful isn’t he?” The criticism was cut by the obvious affection in her voice. “He doesn’t know you’re here yet.”

They passed through the living room, which was modern-cosy and decorated in varying shades of pastel blue. Sunlight completely permeated throughout it courtesy of large south facing windows.

All Chloe could think as Lana took her on an unwavering course towards the kitchen was just how apt everything was.

In the time they’d shared a home, Chloe had learnt a lot about Lana. She knew her to be house-proud and verging towards obsessed when it came to having everything clean and tidy. So the site of the kitchen in chaos was a total shock. Wooden pine surfaces were covered with utensils, pots and pans, smatterings of sauces and bits and pieces of vegetables.

Yet Lana was seemingly heedless of the mess and havoc that it might wreck with her smart little dress entered without hesitation.

Watching Lana wrap an arm around Pete and seeing him kiss her cheek in reply, seemed the most natural thing. Seeing them together it was impossible to imagine Mr. and Mrs. Ross as anything but Mr. and Mrs. Ross. Yet apart for them she still found it disorientating and hard to believe.

She’d envisioned many possibilities in the group of four friends she’d belonged to in high school. This was the only one she’d never, ever, considered. Even now as Pete turned around and saw her, his eyes seemed to twinkle with the same thoughts, ‘It’s weird, I know, but isn’t it great!’

“Chloe, welcome at last to our humble abode!’” he said gesturing with a frying pan in one hand. He approached Chloe as though meaning to hug her and then noticed the frying pan. Spinning around he tried, and failed, to find somewhere to put it down.

Lana watched him with a playful smile on her face and shook her head silently at Chloe. With an exaggerated sigh and a false frown, she took the pan from his hands.

Free of the burden, Pete kissed the top of Chloe’s head and hugged her briefly. “Still smaller,” he declared, using his hand to compare their relative heights.

“Ever since you had that growth spurt you’ve been a smug bastard.” Chloe said, crossing her arms.

“Correction- ever since I married the hottest girl in Kansas I’ve been a smug bastard.” He said.

Lana had found a place for the saucepan and Pete put an arm around her waist, drawing her close. Smug was definitely the only word that could have been used to justly describe his grin.

Chloe couldn’t help but match his grin with one of her own. To be among friends after being alone for so long was a massage to the nerves, and Chloe could feel the tension inside her slowly uncoiling.

But when Pete dropped another kiss on Lana’s cheek it was impossible to keep quiet. “Okay, okay it’s great, and I’m happy for you both, but can we please not overdose on the lovey-dovey stuff, single girl over here. Plus, as you well know, I have an allergic reaction to too much mush.”

“Yeah well when you find Prince Charming, you’ll find that there’s no such thing as ‘too much mush’,” Lana told her seriously.

A bubble of laughter worked its way slowly upwards from Chloe’s stomach, and she sternly pushed it down. She might find the implication that Pete was Prince Charming amusing, but mocking her hosts and her two best friends wasn’t a good idea. Her eyes opened wide as a thought occurred to her. “Just please tell me that I haven’t just accidentally talked my way into another batch of match-making horrors, because I’m happy the way I am, really.”

The doorbell rang loudly just as Chloe registered the twin guilty looks on the Ross’s faces. Her first thought was that it would be Lex standing at the door, holding yet another expensive bunch of flowers

But that, of course, was ridiculous.

“So, I take it I’m not the only guest.”

Lana opened her mouth about to reply; but then a smell of burning interrupted and they all to sniffed the air instinctually.

Spotting the culprit pan quietly smoking, Pete swore loudly and dashed towards it moving it off the stove just as the fire alarm came to life. He left the pan on the tiled floor and went to work opening the windows all the while spouting profanities.

Lana didn’t seem to be finding anything amiss with everything that was happening, and she turned calmly towards Chloe, a gentle half smile gracing her lips. Her expression said she’d indulge Pete beyond a burnt kitchen and some swear words. “Shall we leave him to his chaotic order and go answer the door?” she suggested

The pastel blue living room was even prettier and soothing compared to the untidy and now charcoal smelling kitchen. Lana faltered in it ignoring the doorbell that was ringing once more. Her eyes meet Chloe’s directly, her expression earnest. “It’s Clark we invited,” she said finally, her voice almost unemotional. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Chloe answered automatically. Surprised at everything, her mind quickly digested this piece of information. Did she mind? And how would Lana know that she might mind? “Why would you think so?”

“I don’t know, it’s just we haven’t seen each other for so long I thought you might not want to share.” Lana’s voice was casual.

“I adore Clark.” Something told her that Lana wasn’t being entirely truthful, a niggling feeling that tugged uncomfortably at the back of her mind. But she ignored it stubbornly refusing to let one bad friendship discolor all her others. Besides, she was enjoying herself too much to not give anyone the benefit of the doubt, and she could feel her generosity extending even towards Clark.

Hiding from view as Lana instructed, she could imagine it; everything would work out, and everything might even be perfect.

Chloe listened as Clark and Lana greeted each other. His voice had the ease and confidence that came being Metropolis’ Clark Kent: hot shot reporter job for The Planet, secret identity Superman. But despite the change in tone, the voice was the same one that had once upon a time belonged to the shy and just a little awkward farm boy that she’d fallen in love with. With his familiar voice, came the familiar tightness in the chest that for her came with everything and anything Clark Kent. It seemed inextinguishable by anything she did, neither distance, nor replacements, nothing.

Peering round the corner to chance a peek, she saw the Lana and Clark hugging. Once upon a time she'd thought their coming together was as inevitable as the sunrise each morning, though she’d desperately wanted to believe otherwise. Even now, Pete notwithstanding, they looked gorgeous together.

But despite their beauty as a pair, all her focus was on Clark; the raven hair perpetually tousled, the face familiar as her own. It was all she could do not to ruin Lana’s surprise and go throw her arms around him, half lovingly and half to throttle him for messing so badly with her head.

“Clark I have a surprise for you.” Lana was saying, and Chloe held her breathe waiting.

“You’re not pregnant are you?” Clark teased, but Chloe saw he was without focus, his attention elsewhere. She watched him drift back towards the front door. “Lana, I have a surprise for you too. You know how you’ve wanted to meet Lois for so long…” Comma Splice.

Chloe leaned back against the wall no longer wanting to watch. A rush of adrenaline sent the blood pounding through her head, promising a migraine before the evening was over.

She’d been such a fool, well of course he’d have brought Lois with him. She’d been stupid to doubt the floods and floods of rumours that said he and Lois were an item. All the misery she’d been feeling because of Clark began to well up once more. She should have never come.

With almost morbid fascination, she put her head round the corner to look once more.

She’d seen Lois in pictures, but they hadn’t come to close to showing just how beautiful she was. Lois gave off the aura of a woman that was intelligent and independent and at the same time beautiful and feminine. Tall and slender, she had dazzling green eyes and glossy brown hair.

She and Lana made a striking pair as they stood talking: dark-haired femme fatales. Clark sure knew how to pick them. In fact the three of them could have easily passed off as models posing for the cover of a top fashion magazine.

Chloe was glad there was no mirror nearby for her to see the smile on her own lips. Her guess was it looked far too much like the taste of black coffee, and that it was doing nothing to put in her competition look-wise with the three gorgeous people stood around the corner.

Clark entered the living room first, a look of complete surprise flitted across his face before he quickly recovered and hid it beneath polite mask.

“Chloe, I didn’t know you were in Smallville,” he said.

Forcing her heart to harden she plastered a smile that he’d easily see through onto her face. “Likewise, Clark,” she said.

He moved closer, and it seemed he was unsure of what to do, to hug or not to hug?

Believe me I’m not that keen for your charity affection, she thought, but the beautiful Miss Lane was standing behind Clark, and Chloe didn’t want to give the woman anything to feel smug about so she initiated the embrace.

Chloe tried to hold her breath, but she couldn't help inhaling Clark's scent. City Clark still smelled good, spicy and masculine. It was wrong; too much like obsession, and too much like forgiveness which Clark hadn’t earned. Over Clark’s shoulder she saw Lois politely looking away her expression unreadable.

“I’ve missed you, a lot.” Clark said, squeezing her once and letting her go.

She could almost believe it but for the two reminders in front of her. One the reason he’d ignored her in the past, and the other the embodiment of all of their problems in the present.

His smile seemed genuine now, as though some burden had been lifted, and he gestured towards his girlfriend.

“Chloe, Lois. Lois, Chloe.”

They shook hands stiffly without saying a word, Lane’s skin satiny smooth beneath hers. There really was no point, Chloe thought, for pretence at any civility.

Lana entwined her arm with Chloe’s. “Much as I don’t want to take the two of you into the kitchen in all its messy ‘Pete’s cooking’ glory, I think we’d be endangering the whole neighbourhood if we asked him to leave--" she said.

Perhaps it was meant it as moral support but Lana’s arm felt heavy and suffocating to Chloe. She felt trapped as she was dragged into the kitchen with everybody else. The site of Pete being overly impressed with Lois was not something she particularly wanted to see.

To his credit his though, Pete was polite and interested, but not the lust struck site she’d expected. No doubt his head was too filled with his new wife for him to notice any other females no matter how fatally attractive they were.

Chloe lingered behind in the kitchen after ‘the beautiful people’ left, and offered to help Pete. She didn’t know the first thing about cooking and tended to eat out, order in, or microwave. But though she was essentially a kitchen virgin she managed to get the kitchen tidy enough so that Pete could function.

Cleaning was something she usually avoided but she found herself enjoying it now. It was relaxing joking with Pete and talking about everything and anything.

“Pete, I have the table set to the best of my table setting abilities,” she said, returning from the dining room. “Although that really isn’t saying much.”

“Well the good news is everything is done here, so we can eat--”

“And the bad news?” she prompted.

He spoke more quietly, the teasing tone gone from his voice. “You’re going to lose your hiding place.”

“Peter Ross, I do not hide.” She said indignantly.

“Umm, hmm. Look, Chloe, I’m sorry that Clark brought Lois. It was never our intention and I understand that the whole situation might be awkward for you --"

She felt the anger that was becoming her consistent companion building up. “You think I’m jealous?”

“No, that wasn’t what I meant.” He shook his head earnestly. Putting away his apron, he moved closer to her. His chocolate eyes seemed pained. “Actually, I was taking about the article."

“Oh.” She felt her anger dissipate, a balloon deflated. She smiled, ashamed at misunderstanding Pete, Pete who was her oldest friend. If her temper had been sparked because she’d thought he was making a justified accusation, she didn’t dwell on it now. “I really don’t know what she has against me.”

“Probably jealous,” he said smiling. He squeezed her shoulder briefly, then handed her a plate of food. “You take the food, I’ll go tell them it's ready.”

Chloe gave him back the plate. “No, I’ll go tell them, prove to you Chloe Sullivan hunter of mutants in the past, author of killer articles in the present, is afraid of no-one.”

The occupants of the living room were silent as she entered it. Clark and Lois were snugly nestled into a sofa, completely at ease with each other and completely at home. Lana sat on chair right opposite as though she’d been so intent on the conversation she’d dragged the chair as close as she could. Chloe stood awkwardly in the doorway staring back, not knowing what to make of the quiet or of the three pairs of eyes that watched her with unreadable expressions.

Lana leaned back in her chair, and didn’t quite meet Chloe’s eyes as she spoke. “What happened? Did Pete kick you out?” She was trying to sound light, but they’d lived together like sisters, and Chloe couldn’t help but pick up on the tension in her voice.

“Actually dinner, or late lunch, whatever you want to call it, is ready,” she said, and her voice was unintentionally cold.

*****

Chloe hadn’t wanted to admit it to Pete, but she *had* been hiding, and the dining room provided a few extra minutes of precious refuge until everyone else arrived which she spent them fiddling with a napkin.

Lana and Lois came in together, laughing about something. The sound tinkled in the air, a rain of broken glass on Chloe’s skin.

She found herself obsessively studying them. How far had the two of them come in that one-hour from the two strangers that had stood awkwardly at the door? If Lois became good friends with Lana…

Well, the woman was dating her high school sweetheart, had the job that Chloe was *born* dreaming about, and was using that job to bitch about her.

If she stole her best friends too, it would be bye bye sanity, hello landlady with the hitman advice

She shook her head, clearing away the disturbing thought.

Her eyes meeting Lois’s, but then Lois quickly looked away, her gaze landing on the food. She smiled sweetly at Pete.

“It all looks absolutely delicious,” she said.

Her smile was now genuine and completely dazzling. Chloe watched as Pete melted under the force of Lois’ charm concentrated solely on him.

Well, so much for the Lana-blinders theory.

The dining room table was oval and Chloe ended up at the head, flanked by Lana and Pete.

She wanted to concentrate on the conversation. She wanted to contribute to the excessive number of compliments to Pete that Lana kept instigating and to join in reminiscing about the past and catching up on the present. She wanted to make Lois feel she didn’t belong and wanted to drop red-hot snide remarks on Clark’s lap.

But she couldn’t, because part of her couldn’t ignore the glaringly obvious fact that she was missing something; the half hidden looks, the double meanings, the feeling that *everyone,* not excluding the Ross’s were keeping something from her.

It was as though it was her and not Lois that didn’t belong, and she was lying to herself by thinking otherwise.

She kept thinking over and over about the scene in the living room and remembering all the conversations she’d recently had with Pete and Lana.

Clearing up after dinner, Clark caught her on route to the kitchen and pulled her aside. “You were very quiet over dinner Chloe, is everything okay?”

“I was just hungry, that’s all,” she said stiffly.

“And I thought caffeine was your fuel,” he said, grinning.

She stared back at him with her expression intentionally blank, until his smile faded.

“You’re not still mad at me for missing lunch are you?” he asked.

“Well Clark, after the very reasonable explanation you gave me over that twenty second phone conversation we had, why would I be?”

Lois walked past, taking the breadbasket to the kitchen. She deliberately brushed against Clark catching his eyes and smiling at him. Her total lack of jealousy at seeing Clark and Chloe talking in a private corner was insulting. It splashed Chloe awake, and she forced a smile of her own out.

“Clark, you know what, I’m used to it by now. It’s what makes you, you.” She leaned in to kiss him too close to his mouth, but he moved his head and her lips landed squarely on his cheek. She shrugged, “Shall we go sit down?”

Chloe’s head was clear once more, and she felt charged with energy, like a taut elastic freed and flying through the air. She plonked herself down on a chair, planning to talk herself hoarse. Who cared about Clark and his larger than life girlfriend? She was here to see her friends and no one was going to ruin her weekend off.

They rolled into the room one by one with after dinner slowness. Lois came in last, accompanied by Pete.

“Once more the dinner was delicious,” she said to him, seating herself next to Clark.

Chloe rolled her eyes. Enough was enough, or maybe some people just liked hearing the sounds of their own voices.

Lana pulled Pete close to her on the sofa. “Are you sure we’re not going to read an exposé about Pete’s cooking in Monday's edition of The Daily Planet?”

Lois laughed politely.

But Clark turned towards Chloe. “Did you hear that Chloe, no splashing this all over the states newspapers.”

He was teasing her, trying to draw her out, but Chloe saw an element of seriousness in what he was saying. After all, he hadn’t trusted her with his secret.

She nodded her head at him. “Right, so I’m the one who uses the newspaper I work for as my own personal tabloid, to insult those I dislike and promote those whom I obviously worship?” It went without saying that she meant Lois. She leaned back in her chair and exhaled quietly, trying to calm herself.

“You’re both as bad as each other,” Lana said her voice fond, “Chloe, you’d sell your grandma if it meant you could get a good story.”

Chloe felt a stab of pain, hot sharp and real. Is that what everyone thought?

Somewhere in the house a Cuckoo clock stuck, its ridiculous bird sounds invading the silence that was spreading awkwardly.

Not looking at Lana, Chloe turned a forced smile towards Clark and Lois “You know you two make an adorable couple? Just beautiful to look at.”

Clark’s expression was neutral and unreadable whilst Lois just smiled at her uncertainly.

She should have taken a tally of the types of smiles again: false verses strained verses distant...

“So you said it was your first trip to Smallville, Lois? Here to meet the boyfriend’s parents?”

“Actually...” Lois began.

“No she’s met them before,” Clark said, cutting her off.

“I see,” Chloe said. “So how did you folks get here?”

“We drove, Chloe, how else?”

“I thought perhaps you flew,” she said casually giving him a sly look.

She knew him so well, could read every expression he had, yet she still she would have missed it if she hadn’t been watching for it especially.

A little slip of the mask, a tiny sign of shock, and lasting for only a fraction of a beat, but still enough.

She knew he knew she knew.

“Is there an airport?” Lois asked, “Because it would save a lot of time on the return trip.”

“There isn’t actually, Chloe knows that,” Lana said. She and Pete were both looking at Chloe, almost staring, yet trying to hide it.

She looked back at them and their faces were strange, somehow long and pale and unpretty. She gripped the seat of armchair feeling dizzy.

Chloe and Clark, Pete and Lana, the highschool quartet, the tightest group of friends there was:

Lana her sister;
Pete who told her everything;
And Clark who she was going to marry.

Maybe she was wrong all along.

Clark and Pete and Lana.

And Chloe standing alone on the pavement, a camera slung round her neck, notepad and pen in her hand, trying to peer through the blinds.

So everyone knew except for her. She was the stranger, the piggy in the middle, all along.

Clark, you bastard.
I really think I hate you now.

Lana was speaking and she focused in on the words.

“Clark, you and Lois must stay with us tonight. It’ll be a reunion sleepover, and none of us have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Lana, I’d love that, but I’m going back to Metropolis tonight, work beckons even on weekends,” Lois was saying.

“I’m gonna have to take a rain check also, Lana.” Clark’s voice was polite but distracted. “Much as I’d love that, I think my parents would be really offended. I hardly ever see them and I feel guilty enough as it is leaving them to have dinner with you guys.”

“I guess it’s raining heavily tonight Lana, because I also have other plans.” Chloe said, she could feel the black coffee smile again. She paused waiting until everyone’s attention was focused on her. “I’m staying at the mansion.”

“Your staying with *Lex Luthor*?” Pete said standing up.

Chloe twirled a lock of hair around a finger, looking up at him like a defiant teenager. “Is there a problem with that?”

She felt rebellious, wild and reckless.

Clark’s face was solemn.

It’s all about revelations and discoveries today, Clark.
You and Lois
I know your secret.
Everyone knows your secret.
Why not toss in you ex-best friend into the mix as well and see what happens?

“In fact,” Chloe said glancing at her watch. “I think this would be my cue to go.”

Lana looked hurt, whilst Pete looked slightly angry.

“I’ll see you out,” Clark said.

She frowned a little, surprised. “Okay.”

“Bye, it was fun,” Chloe said not looking at anyone in particular. “Nice to meet you Lois.”

Clark walked with her to the front door and stood there awkwardly. He hadn’t properly met her eyes since her flying comment. But he met them now.

“Goodbye, in case I don’t see you,” he said.

She read finality in his eyes and in his voice. But there was something else underneath, confusing her.

“Goodbye, Clark,” she replied, also putting finality into her words.

She was done with this, no more heartache.

She stepped out of the house and was halfway down the path when he called her back.

“Be careful whom you trust, and of the decisions you make and take more care of yourself, Chloe.”

She wanted to be angry, wanted to yell about self-righteousness, and how dare he preach when he hadn’t been there in so long! But she was inflated once more, and her victories seemed like petty digs.

“Goodbye, Clark,” she repeated turning her back towards him.

She didn’t look towards the house again until she was in her car. The front door was closed and a shadow was shutting the curtains.

[scifichick774]

Stupid Clark. Sorry I can't come up with a better review than to blast stupidboy, but...bad grrr. He just pisses me off.

[beautiful N' Bruised]

Chapter 4



Chloe drove to the mansion as though on autopilot, operating on the incongruous logic that if only she got there, then everything would be okay.

But parked outside the security gate, she finally cleared her head enough to think. What was she doing running to Lex who was almost a stranger, as though the answers lay at his feet? She needed to be back home in Metropolis where she could be alone in her apartment and could let her thoughts and feelings settle.

She shifted the gear stick to reverse, but then looking up she paused seeing a young security guard motioning for her to wind down her window.

“Sorry --”, she began, expecting to be chastised.

“Miss Sullivan?” He asked, smiling.

His was the first friendly human face she’d seen since the glass through which she saw the world was shattered. So she returned the smile and nodded before she could stop herself and effectively lost the ability to turn around. There was no way she’d back out now and have Lex Luthor know she’d been at his gate and then run away.

In spite of the exceptional length of the driveway it still wasn’t enough to allow her to gather her thoughts into any sort of order or plan. She decided to take the easy way out; she’d spend the night in the Luthor home, then leave early in the next morning. Later she’d decide what, if anything, she was going to do about Clark and Clark’s secret, and the billionaire that was his ex-best friend.

The young man that opened the door also seemed to be expecting her and she was left feeling like the heroine of a play, with absolutely no idea of her lines.

He led her down lavishly decorated corridors that were nonetheless cold and dimly lit, and she found herself comparing the mansion in its vastness to Ross’s humble abode.

It was hard to imagine Lex in his early twenties living alone in the intimidating place. What was it like to wake up alone enclosed by tonnes and tonnes of cold bricks and high ceilings? She shivered; it lacked even a drop of the warmth that had been in such abundance in Lana and Pete’s house.

A warmth, she reminded herself, where she was no longer welcome.

They stopped just outside an open door.

“Mr. Luthor is in here.” The man said, in his impressively neutral tone.

“Thanks.”

She took a deep breath and fixed a smile on her face; she’d brought this on herself, and now she was going to have to deal. She mentally chastised herself, repeating what she’d said earlier to Pete, Chloe Sullivan wasn’t afraid of anyone, and that included exceedingly rich businessmen.

Albeit that that exceedingly rich businessman was very intelligent and not to forget handsome, definitely not to forget handsome, and on top of that charming and charismatic.

But he was the one that had invited her after all, his was the one that had insisted so what did she have to worry about?

She adjusted her clothes and hair and then winced at the thought that there might be security cameras watching. The thought that a security man might be sitting somewhere laughing at her, forced her to stop delaying and to go into the room.

It appeared to be an immense study, extravagantly decorated with antiques and expensive furniture. A bookcase circled its edges and an impressive staircase lead to an overlooking balcony.

She could have spent hours in the room studying it like a museum, examining the books and ornaments that looked like they belonged in one. But she barely glanced round because, though she hated to admit it to herself, it was hard to focus on anything else when Lex was around.

He was playing pool, and hadn’t yet noticed her. The room was in half-light, and gentle shadows danced on his face making him look young and vulnerable. He had changed from the imposing all-in-black of that afternoon and was dressed comparatively causally in a silver-grey shirt and black trousers.

Strange how even in the midst of a recreational game, he at once magnetised and intimidated her. She allowed herself for the first time to understand what had drawn Clark so irresistibly to him. This was a man you could study for hours and hours.

Yet he and Clark had parted company, and Chloe was once more wishing a little that she had driven in the opposite direction and not stopped until she had reached Metropolis.

She cleared her throat. “I’m trying to figure which place suits you more: here or the penthouse in Metropolis.”

When he turned her direction it was a though he’d known she was there all along, and his eyes looked almost too intelligent for the soft contours of his face.

“Any conclusions?”

“Well,” she said, heading towards him, “I think perhaps you enjoy having a playboy image, what with the fast cars and faster women you always seem so keen to display, and the penthouse obviously adds to that. But I don’t know, something in me leans towards this place.” She rested her hands on the pool table and smiled at him.

“I see, so you think I’m old cold and boring and everything else is just an act?"”

“Not exactly, but this place is bigger, and I think it’s just about large enough to house your ego. Oh and no pun intended, since you can’t exactly call this a house.”

He smirked, instantly looking like a boy once more. “I really don’t know what you have against my ego, I’m actually quite the modest man.”

“And delivered with a perfectly straight face, impressive.”

Chloe could feel herself relaxing, so maybe it was better if she wasn’t alone with her thoughts and what better to occupy her mind then the task of keeping up a steady repartee with the most challenging of conversationalists?

She broke the eye contact that was stretching out between them, and he gestured towards the pool table. “Do you play.”

“"Not really," she admitted. Mentally she braced herself for Lex's obligatory snide comment, but he didn't make the attack. Instead, he guided her towards the sofa chairs at the other end of the room. Once seated, Chloe realized how intimate the area was. If he couldn't get her to share space with him at the pool table, he'd make her practically sit in his lap. She swallowed reflexively, hyper aware of Lex's proximity, that their legs were a hair's breath from touching.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked.

She almost said yes just to get a chance to catch her breath, but the drink Lex would bring might cause her more trouble in the long run. "I'm fine, thank you."

They sat in silence for a few moments, neither of them saying anything as they studied each other in the dim light of the room.

But then Lex leaned back slightly and his gaze was suddenly assessing. “You seemed pretty adamant earlier that you weren’t coming to stay; what made you change your mind?”

His words seemed to slice through whatever connection they were sharing, and she was jarred awake with a splash of cold reality. “And you seemed pretty sure I was going to change my mind, keeping tabs on Smallville are we?”

He smiled, and perhaps she read too much into it, but she thought his expression was half-admiring, half- embittered. “I believe I asked a question first, shall we take turns?”

Lex’s tone was slightly condescending and she felt the slow throb of anger building behind her temples. She opened her mouth, but she couldn’t find any words that wouldn’t sound humiliating; that weren’t the adult equivalent of ‘they don’t like me anymore.’

“Well what’s to say?” she said finally, “It seems Lex Luthor has all the answers.” She cringed inwardly at the bitterness she couldn’t hide from her voice.

The expression in his eyes changed, the crystal clear arrogance seemed to melt away and a veil descended in its place, hiding everything from her. “Yes, well, I don’t mean to torture you Chloe, you obviously had a disagreement with your friends, and yes I knew that certain people would be in attendance. Perhaps I should have warned you earlier. But lets not talk about that hmm? I should just feel privileged to have Chloe Sullivan staying with me.”

From anyone else’s lips and she would have laughed out loud over the ‘privileged’ comment and said something self-deprecating. But Lex Luthor had the Prince Charming attitude down pat and it was back to the exchanged smiles and the eye contact. She allowed herself to realise just how attractive Lex was, and she found herself comparing him with his regal manners to Clark, whom she’d wasted many years pinning over. She wanted to let her mind wander and explore the possibilities in a way that she’d never let herself before. She wanted to relax and enjoy his company. She’d always thought it was Lex who was way out of her league, but wasn’t it he who was paying her attention, and wasn’t it Clark who always ignored her for whatever raven-haired beauty was his current obsession?

But there was something nagging at the back of her mind, maybe she was being too paranoid, something like once stung, twice shy...

“How did you know that I didn’t know that Clark and Lois would be coming?”

He laughed then, getting up and pouring himself a drink. His laugh was like his smile, subtle coffee crème, and quite unlike the rest of the earth’s population who used smiling and laughter as an expression of joy.

A glass was placed in her hand and her was mouth so dry she automatically swallowed some down, not acknowledging the taste as the liquid slid down her throat.

“You see Chloe, I’ve been interested in you for a while now.”

“Why am I not flattered?” She asked, looking at him. She was ashamed at the tinge of trepidation that crept into her voice.

“No, no, you should be, I realised you were an intelligent and resourceful woman a long time ago, perhaps from the first interview when you were proud to be editor of The Torch.”

He paused and she realised she was supposed to prompt him. Suddenly she felt old, like she was playing a game that should have been over years ago. “But the world is full of ‘ intelligent and resourceful’ women, unless you’re too chauvinistic to think so of course.”

“Not at all, you’re unique because you’re a friend of Clark Kent’s.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere. You two haven’t tired of this masculine snarling and circling from a distance?” Her tone was sharp as she continued. “What’s so terrible that neither of you can forget or forgive?”

His eyes darkened monetarily, but then he smiled and it was more self-satisfied than anything else. “See Chloe,” he said, reaching to touch her face with a finger, “that’s where you come in.”

“No, I don’t see. You said yourself, Clark’s my friend.”

“Come on Chloe, you’re forgetting that Clark was my best friend once upon a time too. I know how much you liked him, and how he trampled your heart time and time again. You were the reliable friend, the girl that would always be there, in the background and ignored.”

“What exactly is this?” She said angrily, standing up.

Lex stood up and took her drink from her, putting it down on the nearby table. He laid a hand on her shoulder and she stubbornly shrugged it off.

“Chloe, don’t you understand?” He said, his voice low. “I’m on your side; we’ve both been betrayed by Clark. Don’t you think the least we deserve is a little retribution?”

She snorted inelegantly. “What makes you think I trust your idea of ‘a little retribution’?” But adrenaline was making her heart beat faster, forcing her to acknowledge that wasn’t this what she wanted all along? “And I want to know, Lex, how you had inside knowledge about me. Did you hire private detectives to follow me? But they wouldn’t have known—" She paused suddenly as it occurred to her, as the last pieces of puzzle clicked together, and she had to laugh. Because despite the seriousness of it all, it was so silly, so *childish*…

“Mrs. Blake, Lex? My cleaning lady? Hardly your normal flamboyant style.”

Despite her half-hysterical laughter his face was serious. “She wasn’t a spy, Chloe, not really, I want you to know that. Only the barest of facts, your privacy was never invaded--”

“Oh please,” she said, cutting him off, “you placed a spy in my home, followed me to my fathers grave, tricked me into coming here and now you expect to wave it off with a few eloquent words? I believe your exact words were ‘intelligent and resourceful’.” She was surprised to feel a stab of betrayal, sharp and enduring, where she would have expected to feel outrage. She was hurt, a feeling she was obviously becoming far too attached to.

Lex eased her back onto the seat. “Chloe, this is what you’ve been waiting for, what we’ve both been waiting for. Together we can give Clark what he deserves.”

Revelations, she’d told herself today was a day of revelations. She spoke carefully, “I thought Lex Luthor of Lex Corporations was a business man, why is he so interested in extracting some retribution from an old friend?”

“Chloe, you asked me not to insult your intelligence, but Clark insults all of our intelligence everyday single day.” Lex’s voice was a harsh winter wind, cold and blunt and cutting to skin. “The way he parades around in spandex and hair gel, thinking he can fool us all, even when his past is teeming with suspicious behaviour.”

“You know he’s Superman.” Chloe whispered, the words were more to herself than anyone else. The piece of information played riot in her mind. All the time she had thought that perhaps other than Clark’s parents, she was the only one who knew, and now it seemed that everyone knew.

It had to be the worlds worst kept secret.

Lex got up to pour himself another drink, allowing her a minute to think.

She roped the new knowledge down and swirled it around in her head; what did it taste like; what did it feel like?

"What does it mean?" she said. Chloe hadn't actually meant the half-whispered words to escape, but Lex grinned at her slyly in response. The dimness of the room was suddenly neither mysterious nor romantic, but suffocating. It made his face look old and shadowed with things she couldn’t begin to decipher.

Once more, he put down his drink and sat thigh to thigh with her. He spoke in her ear, his voice a bare whisper. “It’s up to you what it means.”

“I won’t get my hands dirty.” She said, shaking her head. But her words were an agreement and his subtle smile told her he knew it.

“Oh there won’t be any dirty hands. Maybe a dirty face for Superman when we rub it in the mud.”

They shared a grin and she saw his teeth were pearl-white and beautiful. Already, she could feel the hurts shifting ever so slightly, a softening of the edges, the tiniest lifting of a burden.

“What do you say to a little payback?” He extended his hand and she hesitated only briefly before taking its warm smoothness.

“To a little payback.” She said, smiling.



***

[tigerbaby]

I may have already read it but it's still a good story and I have to agree with scifichick. Clark is being a sanctimonious bastard. If you're going to treat people like they don't matter, then don't be surprised when they turn on you.

Stupid Clark :hammer:

[beautiful N' Bruised]

Chapter 5



The Kent’s farm was a monument to the past and travelling through it was like falling back in time. There were a few minuscule changes: a new fence here, a sprinkling of fresh paint there. But mostly it was just as Chloe remembered it, causing long forgotten feelings to tumble forward.

There’s no place like home to pour a gallon of salt on gaping wounds.

She did her best to ignore her feelings and was careful not to look at Clark’s barn as she drove past it.

That was one place with just too diverse a mixture of memories. Somewhere she’d literally laughed, cried, explored new territory and created personal history.

But remaining neutral was not as easy as she thought. Walking to the Kent’s door, she had to remind herself that she wasn’t sixteen or seventeen or eighteen and in love with Clark Kent. She wasn’t going to meet him for a date or an all night cram session or any one of the simple things they used to do together.

She was a woman on a mission, and nothing was going to stand in her way. Step one was perhaps the hardest of all: re-make friends with Clark.

The same gingham curtains hung over the kitchen door, and she knocked on it with more assurance than she felt.

Mrs. Kent’s voice called out for whomever it was to come in.

Stepping gingerly inside, she was greeted by the sight of a slightly floury Mrs. Kent baking. If not for the slight greying of her hair and soft rounding of her figure, Chloe would have sworn that Martha hadn’t moved since the last time she saw her. Her first impulse was to hug the older woman, flour and all. She had once upon a time been almost like a surrogate mother to Chloe.

But she was stopped by the expression Martha wore. She looked surprised and suspicious, but there was also fear. Standing uncertainly by the door Chloe tried to search for how that made her feel and found she just didn’t know.

Of course Mrs. Kent would be looking at her like that; Clark always told his parents everything. She remembered how jealous she used to get of that when they were dating. She also remembered how protective they were of their only son. Chloe hoped that Mr. Kent and his shotgun weren’t nearby.

Suddenly, even Lex’s daunting abode seemed more inviting than the Kent’s homey kitchen.

“Chloe, this is a surprise,” Martha eventually said. “How are you? Still freelancing?” Her voice was a strange combination of kindness and awkward politeness, ringing oddly through the sweet-smelling kitchen.

“I’m fine, Mrs. Kent. Yep still paving my own way.” Chloe said, taking Martha’s small talk as an invitation to come inside. “So how are things going with the farm? I noticed some changes.”

“Changes? Nothing recent, things are going okay,” Martha replied, her tone still slightly abrupt.

Chloe leant her hands on the kitchen counter and smiled uncertainly, racking her brain for more conversation. “I was at Lana and Pete’s house yesterday. Clark probably told you. The two of them are adorable, aren’t they?”

“Yes very.” At the mention of the Ross’s, Mrs. Kent’s expression softened slightly, her body relaxing from its fight or flight stance. She was probably going to ask Chloe to sit down and have some of whatever was in the oven, and Chloe was tempted just to allow herself to be enfolded back into the past. The smell of baking beckoned enticingly, and the morning sun slanted through the window at an angel just lazy enough to remind her of summer holidays past.

But the image of Jonathan Kent welding a shotgun was too vivid.

Not to mention that the mission she was on most definitely wasn’t of the social kind.

She took a deep breath. “Is Clark around?”

At the mention of her son’s name Martha’s eyes scanned Chloe warily, as though she might be welding kryptonite beneath her thin summer dress.

“He’s in the back,” she said at last, her wariness still evident.

Chloe nodded and flinging a final fake smile at Martha, made her way through the back door of the kitchen.

Greeted by the open air and the heat of the sun, she concentrated her mind on the task of finding Clark in ‘the back,’ which consisted of acres and acres of farmland.

On impulse, she headed towards a tree that had been hers and his once upon a time. She felt no great surprise that when it came into view he was sat beside it, staring towards the horizon.

Remember those long summer days? The ones where we’d sit right there, by that tree, seated against each other. We’d talk about everything and anything: school, books, friends, the future, meteor mutants, politics, the world.

*But though you pretended we shared everything, you never once trusted me with your secret, never once told me that you were the reason the mutants existed*

Sometimes I’d come round here on a whim, just to surprise you, just to see your face, and you’d already be waiting for me, a smile on your lips, and you’d say we were special and that We were connected by love and fate and destiny.

*But now I know it was just you that was special, and that it was your special hearing that always told you when I was coming, and it was just me that wanted and believed in love and fate and destiny*

“Don’t you have lives to save?” she said, and her voice sounded too tired and too broken even to her own ears. But she didn’t have time to dwell on that before he had already stood up and turned around. It took just that one swift and fluid motion to show her how much he’d changed from the Clark she once knew.

There was no stab in the chest, she told herself, no stab as she drank in the site of him. He was wearing a pair of denimn jeans and a checked shirt; they were obviously designer and complimented his lean and muscular physique in a way the convenient store type he wore in his youth never could.

He looked good, better then good.

“Chloe, I’ve been expecting you.” he said. Did his eyes always look that solemn or that wise? She could remember them crinkled with laughter, heavy with sadness, dark with passion.

“It’s always nice to know I’m predictable.”

“Actually you’re not.” Clark said, not needing to clarify. He looked around as though expecting seats to materialise.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “I can sit on the grass.” She dropped gently to the ground, crossing her legs and making sure to reveal enough leg to make Clark uncomfortable.

He sat opposite her, and she shrugged remembering why she was here. “I know you Clark, okay?”

“Lots of people know me, but…”

“But not like I know you.” She said, her voice quiet. Then she was feigning hurt and vulnerable, looking into his eyes, then looking down and tearing at the grass with her fingers.

“So, you’re angry, wishing I’d told you, been honest? Believe me, Chloe, you have the right to be, and I think the same way sometimes. You don’t know how many times I’ve come close to telling you.”

They stared into each other’s eyes, not intimate, but remembering.

“So why didn’t you?”

“Because every time I’d remember how much I cared for you, and how knowing my secret would turn your life around, initiate you into something I had no right initiating you into.”

But I *was* part of your life. I *was* initiated. “So what’s it like? Being the man that all good people adore?”

He looked relieved as though a difficult hurdle had passed and he smiled at her. It was the true Clark Kent smile showing slightly crooked, pearl-white teeth. “Well, sometimes it’s gratifying, getting to help people, feeling you’re making a difference. But sometimes I feel like it’s the heaviest burden. There were days when I couldn’t stop, when I felt I didn’t have the right to stop because there are always people out there who need saving, helping, rescuing, there are always Crimes to thwart and justice to promote. Sometimes I still feel like I shouldn’t eat or sleep or have a life, but just remain on permanent patrol, circling the globe.”

Part of her wanted to reach out at that, touch him, bring his head to lay in her lap and stroke his hair. Because what must it be like living with a hero’s complex that large? But she saw that he was over it now, that the time for her friendship and comfort and understanding has passed, and he had never asked or wanted any of it.

Chloe looked up at his face and saw that he was staring straight ahead, seeing a past she had thought she knew. Seeing her watching, he returned his gaze to her and smiled. “I’ve learnt to compromise. But there are still a lot of sacrifices.”

The conversation was pulling her in of its own accord, to somewhere so deep it was almost endless and she’d end up at the bottom, broken and lost. “Was our friendship a sacrifice, Clark?”

His earnest eyes widened at that, and he shifted closer to her, until her bare legs were pressed against his denim. His hands took hers. “No, Chloe, no. I just. I need to explain. It takes up so much time, perhaps if you’d known, then it would have been easier…” As he searched for the words, Chloe noted that they were sitting in a was that was oddly similar to the position she had sat with Lex the day before. Though aside from anatomical positioning everything else - intentions, aims, atmosphere - was completely different.

She plucked out the words she needed and spoke with the slow reluctance of someone who really would rather not hear the answers. “Does anyone else know?”

He said nothing, and she could almost hear the internal debate raging in his head. Would a dose of truth now do more harm than good?

“Pete? Lana?” She offered for him. “Is it because I’m a journalist? You could trust them but not me?”

“Chloe, it wasn’t like that. Pete found out. Then when he married Lana, he said he didn’t want to keep any secrets from her.”

She wanted to comment on that, point out that Pete had it right; no relationship could survive secrets. No two people who cared about each other would want to keep secrets from one another. She wanted to ask how long Pete had known; was it college, high school or elementary school? How long had she looked like a blind fool, whilst her two best friends whispered together without her.

But she wasn’t there to criticise or blame. She was there to patch up what was left of the friendship into something she and Lex could use to their advantage.

So she said nothing, just squeezed Clark’s hands and gave him a shy smile.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, their hands slipping apart, before Clark turned to her looking slightly embarrassed.

“So, can I ask you a question, Chloe?”

“Go ahead.”

“Are you and Lex…?”

The question added fuel to her resolve. Was it possible Clark Kent, with his overflowing wholesome goodness, cared so little for her friendship that he would avoid her because he didn’t like someone who might be her boyfriend? “Just what exactly is your problem with him Clark? What happened between the two of you?”

Clark’s sunny face was dark. “All the bad things they say about him, Chloe, are true and worse. Superman has had to spend a lot of time and energy watching over him. He really does care only for power, and he will use any means to achieve it.”

Any means? Lex had admitted something similar to her. Was she just another one of his means, just another tool? Maybe she was, but Clark and his self-righteous, paranoid little speech wasn't going to change her mind. She wasn't doing this just for Lex.

“So are you and Lex…?” Clark prompted her for the second time.

“No.”

He enveloped her in another one of those chaste hugs that showed just how oblivious he was to her feminine charms.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me lately?” she asked.

He replied with a sheepish grin. “I suppose an apology is in order; I’ll admit that I thought maybe there was more to those articles you were writing. I thought that perhaps you were on his payroll.”

“Or in his bed?”

He smiled nervously, and Chloe thought that she’d always been just too open for Clark. She said what she thought and to hell with tact. He preferred the Lana and, she was guessing, Lois types whose words were as elegant as their appearance.

“I promise I’ll be a much better friend from now on. You know I care about you Chloe, always have, always will.”

“Even if I had been the devils advocate?”

“Even if you had, I was just worried about you, and avoiding you for both our safeties. What was it like last night anyway? You did stay at the mansion, didn’t you?”

“I did, didn’t get any interview out of him though. He seemed in a bad mood, don’t know why he asked me over in the first place.” It was easy to lie, to feel the words flow smoothly from her lips, all the time with the bitter thought that Clark must have done this to her over and over again.

“But you can bet he had a motive. Lex always has at least several.”
There was a wistful expression in his eyes at that. Would he one day wear that look when talking about her? “But lets not talk about him anymore. You can write about whomever you want. Just take care of yourself; there are people who’d miss you. Look, I’ll prove to you that I trust you. I’ll let you in on a secret.”

“Sure you’re not afraid that it’ll be on the front page of the tabloids tomorrow?” She grinned slightly. “Go on, tell me then.” She said, slapping his thigh.

“Well…” He grinned back, and pulled something out of his jeans’ pocket and handed it to her. She flipped it open, and tried not to stare at the ring it contained like it was trying to tear her heart out. “So, what do you think?”

“It’s umm, it’s beautiful,” she said, surprised at herself that the words were able to come out.

“And you’re the only one that knows. So, think Lois will like it?”

“She’ll love it. She’s a lucky girl. Congratulations.” Chloe pulled him in for a quick hug to hide the traitorous tears that pricked her eyes.

“Well, that all depends on what she says,” Clark said.

“She’ll say yes.”

Clark’s expression told her he thought so too. It was the same spaced out look he used to sport whenever Lana was near and Chloe needed to leave.

“Anyways, Clark, we’ll have lots of time to catch up in Metropolis.”

“Of course, Chloe.” Standing up in another fluid motion he helped her up. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

He was still waving at her, when he disappeared from site.

She hadn’t driven for five minutes before she stopped her car by the side of the road and got out. Stumbling into nearby woodlands she let herself be consumed by sobs.

She hated herself for showing weakness.

But she hated Clark more.

Everything, everything… It was just too much…

How could he just flash her the ring he was going to give another woman as though it didn’t matter that she hadn’t even know he was seeing anybody before yesterday? He wanted her to be happy that he was getting engaged to a woman who had slandered her just last week in the regions leading newspaper. Yet hypocritically, he had severed their friendship at the possibility that she might be involved with someone he didn’t approve of.

If she had any doubts, they were gone.

Wiping half-forgotten tears, she realised it didn’t matter that she might have to get her hands dirty or that she’d have to work for Lex. There was only one way she could get inner peace.

Lex would get his ally, and Clark would get what he deserved.



~Finis~


Saga continues in 'In the Dark (http://forums.naughty-seduction.net/showthread.php?t=720).'

[tigerbaby]

Originally posted by beautiful N' Bruised@Sep 5 2003, 05:21 PM
“So, you’re angry, wishing I’d told you, been honest? Believe me, Chloe, you have the right to be, and I think the same way sometimes. You don’t know how many times I’ve come close to telling you.”

They stared into each other’s eyes, not intimate, but remembering.

“So why didn’t you?”

“Because every time I’d remember how much I cared for you, and how knowing my secret would turn your life around, initiate you into something I had no right initiating you into.”

“Pete? Lana?” She offered for him. “Is it because I’m a journalist? You could trust them but not me?”


“I promise I’ll be a much better friend from now on. You know I care about you Chloe, always have, always will.”


I'm reading this and I'm just so mad at Clark. :hammer:

There's nothing that he can say or do to justify his actions. For someone who didn't want to burden his friends with the truth, there are a quite a number of them that know. And Chloe's right, he can't use journalism as an excuse seeing as *Lois* is a reporter too.

And as for caring for her. Puhlease.

GRRRRRRR :hammer: kill Clark :hammer: kill Clark.

[happy bunny]

I've said it once and I'll say it again. Clark's a hole. Can't wait to see him get what he deserves.

[Val]

I hate Clark! Just had to say that, he is an hypocrite of the worst kind!
And dont get me started on Lane, what a birch! I'll go look for the sequel right now, love your story... ;)

[happy bunny]

Just a quick question. Did you post "In the Dark" here yet? Because I haven't seen it if you have.

[beautiful N' Bruised]

Opps, forgot about that. Will post a few chapters now...

[happy bunny]

YAY!

For a second there I just thought I couldn't find them.

[Clannadlvr]

wow...you have such an amazing handle on the intricacies of their personalities. Especially the way you're handling Clark. In SV and in the comics he's always had this sense of moral superiority in the way that if HE thinks what he's doing is right, then it must be right. He is never self-reflexive and that just ticks me off. You've done such an amazing job of showing that.

Also, the complexity of Chloe's emotions is wonderful. You can see her being so torn between her need for revenge and her lingering feelings...but I wonder, will this be the thing that tears HER apart.

This is fantastic... you've got me going for In the Dark.

[Krysia]

Great story. It was a in depth look at all the characters and the dynamics of their relationships. I can totally see all of them acting just in the way that you have described. Lex dressed all in black keeping tabs on Chloe and just waiting for the perfect moment to make his move. And Clark shutting her out of his life just because she doesn't seem to fit in his idea of what their relationship should be. Because she did something he doesn't approve off. I find it hearbreaking that he can believe so easilly that she has been writting only good things about Lex because he was paying her, doesn't he know her at all? And then without anything close to apolagizing for his behaviour he can just turn around and be all like by the way I'm going to marry Lois who wrote this horrible article about you aren't you happy for me? Grr!
Is there a sequel to this story? Because I can't wait to see what Lex and Chloe can cook up for the boy in blue.

[jafrizbee]

That was fabulous! It was so true to character. I've gotta say I'm a fan of creative vengeance, so I'm looking forward to the sequel...which I'm off to read now...

[starmoon]

That was good but sad and I hope Chloe get her revenge on Clark with Lex's help. Clark deserves any pain he gets. :devil:

[darkangel]

This was a good fic. Please do a sequel.