[Christmas] NS Advent Calendar 2007 - Gifts of Meaning

Gifts of Meaning
PG

General Spoilers only

Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville. I don't own Lex or Chloe. I've made no money from this.

Prologue

Santa himself would be proud, Mrs. Claus even moreso as the unlucky woman who had to shop for old Kris, Chloe Sullivan told herself.

She was entitled to bragging rights for finding something for the man who had literally everything. She pushed bubble wrap off the gift she had chosen for her boyfriend months before, wondering if she would still be dating Lex Luthor by Christmas. Her hands cupped the jewelry box with tenderness they would rather show to her lover.

She sighed and popped open the box. The $400 coin nestled in velvet, a thin wafer hardly as large as her thumbnail, and not even pure gold. But it was authentic, a shipwreck coin found in the Mediterranean, a part of history lost and found by modern treasure hunters in 1992. It had taken about fourteen years for all the permits and studies to be completed to allow the men who had found it to sell the artifacts. By the time she tracked down a coin she could afford, they had also published a book chronicling the long journey from cash-starved amateurs to prominent figures in the world of archaeology. She had bought the book as well, and read it before stowing the items away to wrap them nearer to the holidays. She had been moved to find Christmas wrapping paper in August just to be ready. A shiny purple bow sat in the corner of the box, waiting to be the topper of the much-anticipated gift.

Her enthusiasm held up right until the middle of November, when she had dragged herself to the penthouse after a marathon study session. Lex had ordered in for them, and she had curled her exhausted body next to him as they waited for the food. His hand had been warming the back of her neck, soothing the wind-chapped result of forgetting her scarf. He had kissed her sweetly and looked into her eyes with the momentous love she felt increasing between them every day.

“I'm traveling off and on for the next few weeks,” he told her. “I have a series of international meetings and I'll be in two or three different time zones each week. You might not hear from me often.”

He was being considerate by telling her. They continued to live separately, more or less, and Chloe had plenty of school work to keep her busy. She wasn't a simpering fool who couldn't fend for herself in the big, bad world or a believer in keeping a boyfriend on a leash. If he had been a little down about not being with her she would have tried to minimize it and make sure he didn't feel guilty.

She swallowed over the nausea of remembering his cheer. She knew him too well not to see it. Even as suspicions built she felt bad for doubting his loyalty. Lex was faithful to a fault and up to that moment she was blissfully happy with the way he treated her.

His mouth had a twitching mischief as he gave his regrets she couldn't go with him. She was lowered softly to the cushion as he stood up to get the door, but it felt abrupt to her. She noted the spring in his step as she went to pay for the delivery. While he ate heartily she picked at her plate and made an excuse to go back to her dorm for the night.

In her solitude, Chloe cried and raged. Her resolve was one moment entirely intent on fixing whatever problem Lex thought was the fatal one in their relationship; the next second she was making a list of rebound guys and forming insults. She had asked him questions to draw out the cause for the change in his feelings, to no avail. He treated her well, the sex was amazing, and there were no other hints he wouldn't be entering the new year with her on his arm once again.

She just knew and was too cowardly to break things off first.

Lex needed a quest and a challenge, and she had given him everything without a struggle. It wasn't her way to create problems just to fix them or to be difficult in order to make a man prove himself. She couldn't play it coy and become his quest, so she'd have to move on.

Chloe sat up on his bed, his pillow hugged to her aching chest. It had taken her a full year to accept that they were in a serious relationship he intended to last. She wondered how long it would take to believe it was over. She hoped he made it official soon. One more night imagining him in the arms of other women might convince her studying for the second last round of exams wasn't worth the trouble.

They had been together four years. Logically she knew it wasn't an eternity, but it was a chunk of her young life. Her home was the penthouse because he lived there. Her favourite place was tucked into his bed, sated and warm next to him.

Her heart might as well be packed in his suitcase and lost in transit for the broken beats it made.

Chapter One

It was a gorgeous day. The sun was bright and cheerful. Birds reigned the sky gracefully, their wings outstretched in freedom and joy. It was beautiful weather to be on vacation, a state exempt from the current circumstances of the man observing all the natural wonders.

He should have worn a lighter coloured shirt. The charcoal linen held in the heat of the sun on his back and clung to his muscles as they flexed to shovel dirt. Lex Luthor was beginning to doubt he could manage the job by himself. It was for Chloe and he wanted it to mean something, for every moment of annoyance or drop of sweat to build into a tangible aspect of his love for her. He would be less fulfilled if he knew he had cheated part of the effort. He could pay for other people to do a lot of things for him, but he wanted to do this for her with his own two hands.

He hadn't really considered the magnitude of digging up over eleven thousand cubic feet of the dark, heavy soil used to grow Chloe's favourite coffee. He had made up an excuse about a business trip and flown to the big island of Hawaii. His tour of the coffee farm had ended in a big cheque and a handbook in growing and preparing coffee beans. The owner had somewhat whimsically provided him with a shovel, wheelbarrow and vacant area of fertile soil to be transplanted to a greenhouse in Smallville that Lex had yet to build. He felt the shovel handle slide just enough to know there were blisters forming on his palms. He had to fill the wheelbarrow, dump the wheelbarrow into one of the crates, then start over again. Doing the math he had anticipated it would take a leisurely 15 hours spread out over two days. In the evening he'd get a good meal and drive around looking at the beautiful scenery.

In reality, Lex was starting to think filling the wheelbarrow 200 times an hour wasn't going to happen. He was fit and able but it wasn't the kind of work he was used to doing. And he had to remember that once he got home with his many boxes of dirt he was going to have to build the greenhouse and shovel all the dirt into that. It wouldn't be a very merry Christmas for Chloe if she had to visit him in traction and spoon feed him soup.

She had to love coffee, he griped inwardly. Had to love Hawaiian, grown on the side of a freaking mountain coffee. Because she was just a difficult, cantankerous blight on his existence. And he loved her completely.

He propped the shovel blade into the ground and leaned on it, rolling up his sleeves with a sigh. He might have to add a third day and call Chloe to postpone his return. She was busy with exam preparation, but he had asked her to dinner on his first night back. Lex turned around when someone tapped his shoulder, to find one of the workers smiling at him.

“Boss says you don't want any help because you want to take all the credit,” he said with amusement, and Lex bristled. His goal wasn't silly – not to himself, nor would it be to Chloe. “I thought the rules might let you use the digger if we teach you to use it.”

He pointed at a relatively small front end loader, the bucket encrusted with dirt. Lex nodded and shook the man's hand. “I'd appreciate that. I'm Lex.”

The other man offered a work worn hand and the billionaire envied his textured callouses. He could probably shovel just as well without the machine's assistance. He was Polynesian, his bronze skin ideal for the sun that beat down on other, paler complexions. He looked relaxed and cool in his bright red shirt and khaki shorts. His sandals held much better on the soil than dress shoes.

“I'm Ahe, softly blowing breeze,” he translated. “You are doing this for a woman?”

After four years with Chloe, Lex was well aware of his comic potential, so he smiled amiably. “What else?”

“I gave up my Cadillac and bought a minivan. It was worth it,” the other man said complacently. He grimaced. “But I won't tell you it didn't hurt to do it. You know how to drive a stick shift?”

Lex nodded and followed him to the loader. Sweating himself into dehydration wouldn't impress Chloe. He had been professionally trained to drive before getting the keys to his first sports car. He would watch Ahe, memorize the controls and give himself twenty minutes or so to learn the fine points of operating the machine.

Four hours later, Lex strained as he eased the lever back, hoisting a bucket of dirt above the ground. He bit his lip and tried to keep his hands steady. Using a second control, he turned the upper part of the rig toward the open crate. He was almost there when his hand slipped and he managed to both dump the dirt back to the ground and swing the bucket dangerously. Cursing, he watched Ahe and several other workers dive to safety and sit up, laughing as the loader stilled.

He couldn't coordinate the controls at all. If he got the bucket in place to dig the loader slid because he had forgotten to brake. If he successfully dug up some earth he couldn't hold it up and get it to the container. As a heavy equipment operator, Lex Luthor was forced to admit he was nothing but detrimental.

He put the brake on carefully, fumbled as he climbed over the large tracks and jumped down. He wasn't used to being horrible at anything, and the fact that it was happening just when he wanted to prove he was capable was grating. He had to learn how to be the best loader operator the coffee plantation had ever seen, and he had to do it in three days. Four days, maximum.

“Ahe, do you think you could call your wife and tell her you'll be getting home late today,” he asked politely.

The man looked up at the darkening sky, now empty of birds, and shrugged.

Lex looked at the rest of his audience. “All of you guys, stay for a while and I'll treat you to dinner and a few rounds after you laugh at me. It's better than television.”

With their nods and poorly hidden smiles, Lex had his training team. He wrinkled his nose, cracked his neck and climbed back into the wretched loader to try again.

Chapter Two

If he had to make a living as a labourer on daily wages, Lex would be a much skinnier version of himself.

Progress finally arrived before the lunch break on Lex's third day. He had received a standing ovation with his first complete series of operations to drive up to the digging site, lower the bucket, dig with it, tilt it up, drive to the crate and dump it in. Afterward he was so happy he laughed out loud. Ahe, the unofficial foreman of the one-man show, called for a break and a celebration.

Trying to be convincingly cool about his victory over the horrible machine, Lex joined the other men. He had suffered a nasty sunburn on the first day, so the only benefit to the loader was the roof keeping the sun off as he stripped down to a t-shirt. He had worked as long as he was allowed, most of the time embarrassing himself. He had managed very early to prevent the bucket from swinging out like a huge arm to injure his audience. It was pathetic how long it took to coordinate his hands and be able to dig.

Sitting at a picnic table, Lex accepted a soda. He drank deeply and sighed. Now the hard work was still ahead of him, but he had the means and skills to do it in decent time. Thought not quickly, so his dinner with Chloe would be pushed back a day.

“We've been talking, and we've decided it must be a very beautiful woman making your ruin your suits, and we want to see her,” Ahe said jovially. “George thinks she's a famous model.”

Lex laughed as they threw out a few names. He shook his head at all of them. “She's not a model, she's not famous. She's just my girlfriend.”

Mike tapped his soda can against Lex's. “Good for you, but we want to know. What colour is her hair?”

Smiling, the billionaire glanced down at his hands, imagining them running through her hair and over her face. “She's blond, very energetic, very happy, green eyes. Huge imagination and she writes. She's doing a journalism degree.”

In cheerful lechery, Ahe suggested. “She must be very tall and busty then?”

Lex reminded himself these men were honestly curious and shook his head again. “Kind of short, pretty busty, and she's put up with me for years now. Realistically, without saying we'll never fight or have problems, Chloe is perfect for me.”

He saw one man nudge the other, as if to say 'I told you so.' Ahe nodded. “You're going to marry her then? Proposing at Christmas?”

Suddenly feeling a little insulted, Lex shrugged as if it was a casual thing to him. “I'm not sure. I think if I put too much planning into it I'd give myself ulcers. Let it happen when it happens, right?”

He had vacillated about the clichéd Christmas proposal, but it felt right. She would be at home for a few weeks, splitting her time between the castle and her father's house. Work would be slower to allow his employees their vacations. He would have all the presents prepared, ready to impress upon her the effort he was willing to give not just to the proposal but to every day of their marriage. Knowing she didn't need the huge display of devotion made him more determined to give it to her.

Taking out his wallet, Lex handed a photo of Chloe to the man on his right, a giant named Tiny. A huge mitt patted him on the back and the picture was passed around the table as the men ate their lunches. The site was in a relatively untouched part of the plantation, and it looked to be more of a hang out than the small, tidy break room Lex had been shown on the tour. He had been aware of many people stopping to stare for a few minutes as he struggled with the loader, and fewer as he got better at using it.

I guess seeing someone do it properly isn't as entertaining, Lex thought without malice. If Chloe was here she would have been the first and loudest to offer mockery.

He couldn't wait to tell her about his failures bordering on pratfalls from a Charlie Chaplin movie, and hear her laugh. Lex had been an object of laughter and mockery many times in his life, but Chloe always made sure her eyes were smiling at him with love so he didn't have to take offense. She was practiced and natural at it, but she was careful with his feelings and she meant what she told him. He felt incredibly secure with her, but they had plenty of humour, a feat any woman without her generous heart would fall flat attempting.

He had always enjoyed talking with her, but he wanted to share every detail of his life with her. He looked for funny things to tell her and only counted his successful projects once they had been related to her and praised. Knowing Chloe loved him altered his being in some way he was better for experiencing.

Put more simply, he loved her and who he was when she loved him. He wanted to make it official in a way only a wedding could, and he was feeling that so often it was worth any risk of hurt feelings if she wasn't ready. He was ready to hear her say no, and that was what had finally made it okay to ask her.

He would wait years more for Chloe if she didn't say yes, but he didn't think it would be necessary. She was graduating and by summer would have decided on her first newspaper. They had time. Her photo was given back and Lex brushed his thumb over it before returning it to his wallet.

“You have a beautiful girlfriend,”Ahe complimented. “You should bring her back a picture of your new friend.”

The group laughed as Ahe pointed to the loader, but Lex stood up. He was doing all of it for Chloe, as a surprise, but there was no reason not to tell her all about it once he'd proposed. Her curiousity to see him doing grunt work could be satisfied fairly easily.

“Pictures would be great.”

As Lex posed by the loader, he was smiling genuinely despite the heat of the day and his sore muscles. She was worth it.

Chapter Three

Chloe asked to be picked up at the university before dinner, not wanting the hassle of driving if she was too upset. Lex had returned that day from Hawaii and called her in the afternoon to invite her out for the night. She was tempted to say no to spite him, withhold her company the way he had by leaving, but he would be getting on another flight in a few days. She didn't know if the physical or emotional distance was more disheartening.

He was practically gleeful, overly happy even if he'd doubled his fortune. She knew he hadn't done anything that important, though LuthorCorp might be expanding outside the continental U.S. She was happy for him, really. It didn't feel like something she was part of, so she didn't know what to say about it.

I'm glad you'll have more obscene wealth to spend on your new girlfriend, Lex. Let's remain friends forever, she sneered in her mind. Name your first daughter after Aunt Chloe.

She didn't like or trust her friends and had no desire to pine for another male 'buddy' in her life. That part of the Chloe Sullivan melodrama was done. No quantity of mutual orgasms made her a slave to a man. She was going to ride out her last few days as the comic relief, knowing she had been a good girlfriend and done her best. She would get dumped bravely, because she was experienced and that had to count for something.

Lex pulled up in one of his sports cars and she got in before he could come around to open her door. He was left standing awkwardly outside, his arms out from his body in a halted hug. He grinned through the windshield to her instead and got back in to lean over to her side and kiss her. Chloe kept her eyes open and her mouth closed, and was nearly unaffected.

“It's kind of chilly,” Lex said, and he really had no idea. She smiled and made an assenting noise. “I missed you. How are doing with studying?”

“It's fine.” The last time she had been able to read and remember words on a page was a week ago, but Chloe couldn't talk to him about it. She was eager to be heartbroken if that was where things were headed, so she could start putting herself back together. She was relieved it was almost over.

Lex signaled and pulled into traffic, driving them to the restaurant in silence at first. Chloe looked tired and her clipped answers told him she was stressed. He wished he could help, but previous years had taught him she carried an unavoidable distraction before her exams that he shouldn't try to fix. The day of her last exam she always returned to a happy mood. Obviously her grades weren't much of a problem but it was normal to worry.

“I visited a coffee plantation,” he said, glancing over. “It was pretty interesting. You wouldn't believe all the steps the coffee has to go through before it's fueling your hyperactivity.”

His smirk told her he was joking and she jerked in her seat to point her face out the window. She couldn't do this. The tears were flooding her and she didn't even get dumped yet. She was hyperactive and young – too young for the society he kept. So Lex was the one to compromise his schedule and his tastes. She couldn't leave Metropolis more than a few times a year without missing too many classes, acting as his anchor in the city she didn't know if he even liked.

She was Chloe Abigail Sullivan, and what she had to offer wasn't hidden or exaggerated. She was barely twenty-one, had a long way to go before she accomplished anything as brilliant as her lover, and she was holding him back. He deserved to have someone more like himself and maybe she would do better with someone more ordinary than Lex Luthor.

Breathing hurt like pulling in fire, and the tears were falling. She leaned her face to the cold glass and sniffled. She just wanted one last dinner with him so she could remember him well. She was screwing it up.

“Sweetheart, are you crying,” Lex asked her sharply. He reached over and she huddled away from his hand, covering her face. “Chloe, I didn't mean – you're not hyperactive. I was joking.”

If only she had tissues in her purse. Who went to a date expecting to get dumped without bringing tissues? Chloe let out a sob she managed to muffle, but he was pulling the car over and taking off his seatbelt. He crowded her, taking her away from the coolness of the door and hugging her as well as he could over the center console. Her body foolishly folded up to let him comfort her, forgetting he was the source of her pain and couldn't heal it as well.

“I'm sorry,” she gasped. “I just wanted to go to dinner with you but I'm so tired and there's too much to do, and I feel like I'm going to throw up.”

Lex pressed his lips to her forehead chastely, and it was hot. She was shaking and tears were squeezing unwillingly from her eyes to wet her face. He thought she might be a little skinnier than he remembered as well.

“Don't be sorry. You should have told me you weren't feeling well.”

He humiliated her further by taking out a handkerchief and ruining the silk with her tears. Chloe was left with his jacket over her shoulders, being driven back to her dorm. She had longed for one more night with Lex in his penthouse, to stay awake while he slept and memorize it for the miracle it was. She was going to get nothing to remember clearly now. Everything before felt sour.

Lex, ever the gentleman, brought her to her dorm room and came in to make sure she was okay. He fixed the covers on her messy bed and put a bottle of the overpriced vending machine orange juice on the desk with some pills for her fever.

Chloe ducked into the bathroom and cried harder for a few minutes before making herself stop. She washed her face and pulled on pajamas to convince him she was going right to sleep. Her eyes looked huge and frightened but she couldn't help that.

“Feeling better,” he asked when she emerged.

“Yes, I'm sorry, I'm fine now. You should go get some food. I feel so silly already,” Chloe said hoarsely.

She let him watch her take the pills and crawl into bed, and he put his coat on. She sighed in relief.

“I could bring you some soup and ice cream while you take a nap. It would make you feel better.”

To Chloe's horror he sat on the edge of her bed and put a hand on her stomach to rub soothingly. Real nausea curdled as she felt her body start to sweat. If she was going to be swallowing back her near panic it would come out in physical discomfort.

“No. Thank you. I just need some sleep. Thank you, though, and thank you for dinner we didn't eat.”

He studied her, decided something from how she looked, and nodded. “I'll call you tomorrow, and you'll let me know if there's anything you need?”

She said “Yes,” just as he lowered his mouth to hers and their kiss lasted for several heated minutes before she pushed him back. Chloe shivered as he brushed another kiss over her forehead and covered her with another blanket.

“Get some rest,” Lex said softly. He stood up and walked to the door, flicking off the light.

Once the door was opening she couldn't bear it, and Chloe sat up.

“Lex? I missed you. I didn't say it earlier, but I did.”

His voice was smiling when he replied. “I love you.”

The door shut behind him and she curled up into a ball.

It did seem like he loved her, but that was just the heat of his body held in the blankets. She had cried on him and given him very little choice except to take her home like a sick child. She made Lex tuck her into bed and give her medicine like she hadn't even expected her father to do in years. It might be that he was reluctant to leave her, but that didn't feel like the right reason to be together. Waiting for something bad was purgatory.

So much for dignity and cancel Christmas, she despaired.

Chapter Four

He had a hammer in one hand and his cellphone in the other, and Lex Luthor really didn't want to waste the day building walls for a glass shack. He had found out unless he accepted help no reputable glass company would give him multiple large panes of glass, for liability sake. The greenhouse wouldn't be completely constructed with his hands, but his hands wouldn't be severed either.

Likely that would be Chloe's preference, he thought wryly.

He knew he had an overly complicated mindset. Most men just proposed, taking time to buy a ring and book a nice restaurant. He was building a small-scale gourmet coffee plantation and paying royalties to use a renowned Hawaiian variety of bean. Not to mention all the shoveling once he had a finished greenhouse.

He had plans carefully marked with clarifications of anything he didn't quite grasp from seeing it on the blueprint. He had tools, lumber, nails and paint. He had insulation, and even a lead liner to prevent the Smallville soil from getting anywhere near the coffee plants. Diligence would be too late once his wife started glowing in the dark, and her coffee consumption was far from insignificant.

He frowned and raised the cellphone, tempted to let the hammer fall to the ground so he could visit Chloe. She had called him early that morning, saying she was much better and apologizing unnecessarily. He didn't mind taking care of her, though her discomfort made him worried. He was honoured to be one of the few people she allowed into her life. He liked quiet homebody Chloe when she appeared.

Chloe said she wouldn't have time to see him the rest of the week. She insisted she didn't need a doctor and was feeling much better after catching up on sleep. She promised she would eat every meal and rest. She was refreshing self-sufficient and he didn't want to change that, so he didn't offer to have food delivered. He only asked once about seeing a doctor because she had seemed very fatigued. A rough patch during a stressful time was unfortunately normal and she bounced back quickly once she was on vacation.

His plans for her winter break included every garish Christmas observance and plenty of spoiling, so Lex felt he could make up for the current neglect. She said she was fine and he was being nervous to think otherwise. He put the phone down nearby in case she called, and tested his grip on the hammer. He wasn't feeling in top condition and might have to take days longer than professional carpenters, but he was going to build her greenhouse.

The first board he picked up gave him a splinter, but he shrugged it off. When it happened twice more, Lex squinted at the lumber with distaste. He had asked for very high quality wood, surely that wouldn't be falling into splinters so easily? Chloe was somewhat accident prone and he wasn't going to have her scraped and bleeding from one of his gifts.

He picked up the phone and called the building supply. He ranted about supstandard products and generally made the manager antagonistic, until the man sniped, “If it's impractical to sand down the entire structure, it's pretty impractical to have a billionaire novice building the thing! Why don't you do us all a favour and start with a bird house or something?”

Dead silence had fallen, and Lex stopped himself from hanging up. It was true he had no idea what he was doing, but he'd expected to be able to pick it up. He had the building designed to be simple, and the carpenter had explained the tricky parts of the job. The hardware store had every tool remotely necessary. But when Lex looked at the lawn littered with equipment he admitted he was overwhelmed.

“Mr. Luthor, I'm sorry. I was out of line and I'd be happy to replace the lumber,” the manager said.

Lex looked at his project and made a decision. “No need to apologize, I think I was taking out my frustration on you, Mr. Samms. I would like to return this lumber for something less likely to splinter, but I'm going to get a carpenter to do the building and I'd like an expert opinion of what type of wood it should be.”

There wasn't enough time in the day to waste on work he wasn't sure about, and Lex had moved to plan B. He wouldn't build the greenhouse himself, but he would supervise the building. He would make sure it had all the little touches that Chloe would enjoy now that he didn't have to limit the design to simplicity.

It would be ridiculous to take her out to her wonderful greenhouse only to find a pile of collapsed boards and broken glass, he mused. I'd never hear the end of it.

Three days later, Lex Luthor took a final walk through the greenhouse behind the castle in Smallville. The carpenter had done a fine job and in very little time. There were large boxes for the soil Lex still intended to shovel himself, benches so comfortable it was hard to believe they were made of laquered wood, and a cabinet for the gardening stuff. If Chloe would ever be moved to botany the greenhouse would inspire it.

A warm feeling ran through him as he imagined proposing there, her hands shaking in his as he led her to the bench.

She'd probably be too distracted by the coffee. I could ask her in bed, but I'd be too distracted. Maybe I'll ask her under the Christmas tree.

His blue eyes widened slightly as he anticipated another overwhelming task. He had as much experience with Christmas trees as he did with building or digging. And if he was crippled by a tree Chloe was going to be merciless.

Chapter Five

Chloe stared at the gift basket on her desk, hating it more than any essay or boring interview she'd ever been assigned. She wanted to hurl it out the window, but her window wouldn't open wide enough. It was a very large basket, filled with fresh fruit, chocolates and fancy toiletries. It probably cost more than she could afford on her end of semester cash flow. She didn't really think she could lift it.

Her roommate had accepted the delivery, otherwise it would have been returned to Lex. At least it would have to be trotted up to his office in LuthorCorp for his assistant to deal with. The card was signed 'Lex.' Lex had not written it, and there was no personal message. He delegated her to an employee.

She could call and say thank you, but she couldn't pull off the gratitude. He had emailed her from Smallville to say he'd be in Europe for a few days, and she had replied with a mention of the gift basket then. 'You forgot the liquor.' He would think she was joking.

She would hate the gift basket a lot less if it had liquor. She might even open the wrapper and try to be friends

Lex had tried his usual gift-giving routine with her three and a half years ago. When their relationship was decided to be a stable thing he had flowers sent every week, along with a little present. Sometimes the present was wonderful and sometimes it was just puzzling. Chloe didn't wear silk scarves and she carried a backpack instead of a purse; Lex sent her purses and scarves. She asked him about it and he claimed to think they were safe gifts, ones she would like and he knew how to choose. She told him presents weren't necessary, he said he liked giving her things and she was charmed.

Two months passed before she received a duplicate present and realized Lex didn't do anything except have someone else send her things. She made herself wait until their next date and told him she didn't want any presents. His face had fallen, and she stood her ground. If she wanted a token of his butler's affection she could date his butler. A long, tedious explanation had convinced him it wasn't the quality or variety of presents bothering her. He insisted he liked giving her presents and even when he couldn't do it personally he took pleasure from knowing she would be opening a token from him that day.

“Buy me something from here,” she had said, stopping him in front of a newsstand. “Something you think I'll like. I don't care that nothing here costs more than $10 or is meant to last longer than a month.”

He asked her to wait and came back four minutes later with chocolate covered almonds and a news magazine. She smiled and marveled at his over-gifting. He had taken three magazines and spent $20. He held out the top magazine to her and the candy.

“The other two are mine,” he said, and took her hand.

It was a million years from the gift basket of impending rejection, and she deliberately turned her back to it. Chloe propped her study notes on her pillow and closed her eyes. She would take a little nap before she did some work. She would ignore everything else.

There was a guy in Literature who always had to borrow her pen, but her returned it to her with a huge smile like he was only using it as an excuse. His name was Grady and he wore t-shirts with funny puns she enjoyed. He brushed her fingers once in a while and she pulled back quickly. She wasn't his to touch, only Lex's. Chloe had been proud of being faithful.

If she could get over being with a guy named Chad he was an acquaintance she thought was a possibility. Henry was nice to her when she got him to help her find books in the library. He was geeky and sweet. He wouldn't be thinking about doing better than a blond journalism student with her own car. If she was reading him right he'd be grateful.

The more she thought about it the names came easily. Dozens of guys had shown interest in her, but she was taken and happy. She saw them but never gave them any encouragement. A lot of them were still around, and maybe they were waiting for the day she smiled differently or looked into their eyes. She didn't need to be dating someone. Schoolwork and the newspaper kept her amply busy. Her free time was limited.

Chloe was pretty, smart and fun. She was brave and her expectations were reasonable. She liked pizza and burgers. A date didn't have to be anything more than walking around. She was used to Lex working all the time and never being interested in student functions. There was no arguing the appeal of Lex's designer clothes but she liked casual clothes. She was just as impressed when someone brought her coffee as if he picked her up in a town car.

She'd worked very hard on her self esteem and it was stronger. Lex wasn't the only person she could love. He wasn't the last man who would want her.

Jumping up from the bed, Chloe wrote a quick note and taped it to the basket inviting people to help themselves to anything from it. She dragged it off the desk and kicked it into the hallway, locking it out.

She was going to look until she saw someone who appealed to her. As it was it seemed like she was months behind Lex in moving on.

Chapter Six

Sinuses disliked long plane trips and second hand bookstores. The second half of that was new information.

Lex's nose itched at the dusty and poorly ventilated smell of old books. The room he stood in was only a small shop, but it was supposed to have what he was looking for. In the 1950s there had been a publishing firm called Chloe, and they produced hardback copies of classic books in green velvet so near Chloe's eye colour he had been amazed when he saw a picture of one. The company had long been defunct, and their books were only available in far flung second hand shops.

He was unlucky enough to have found them only in Europe, where a single collector seemed to have brought them and sold them by individual volumes. There were one hundred titles in the complete set and he wanted it for Chloe. To make life more difficult, he had made a rule that he needed to go and get the books for the gift to count. He had to go to the bookstore, look around and buy them without any assistance.

He was in Amsterdam, with four more cities to visit. The proprietors swore the books he needed were there, so all he had to do was show up.

“Good morning,” he greeted the man sorting dusty paperbacks. “Where are the Chloe brand books?”

The look in response was so lacking in energy that Lex nearly asked if he was choking. When his mouth finally moved in words he said, “Back with the old hardcovers – sorted by colour.”

Hoping his ears were failing, the younger man leaned in. “I'm sorry, did you say sorted by colour? As in the colour of the book jacket?”

After a nod that spanned a decade, the man turned back to his work. The thousands of books, perhaps edging up to tens of thousands, were sorted by colour. Not author, year, publisher or title. There were red books filling one shelf, the next white, the next shades of yellow or gold. Somewhere in the back there were green books, every green book they had, apparently. Lex shrugged out of his jacket and picked up a basket, heading into the musty unknown.

He kicked over a stack of books with every step into the gloom that was 'the back.' Wishing for a flashlight, Lex strained his eyes glancing between one large and shadowed bookcase and the one next to it. After getting nose to nose with a shelf he decided the left was green, albeit a very dark forest green, and the other was black. And he assumed he still had five fingers on each hand, despite not being able to see them directly in front of his face.

Tilting his list to a window near the ceiling, Lex decided to just start in order. He would run his fingers along every book spine and hope he picked up braille along the way. It was sunset before he hauled the full basket to the front, four hours after he started. All forty of the titles he had been told were there dragged on his right arm, and he sighed.

None of the other bookstores could be as difficult. It wasn't possible.

London rain dripped off his face as he entered the bookstore later that night. It was near closing, but they only had three books he needed. It couldn't take that long to find three books. He was happy to see labels on shelves, and multi-coloured hues. The books weren't arranged by colour.

He didn't bother speaking to the bored twenty-something clerk, just followed the helpful labels. The new books were out front where they could sell more and the older, rarer volumes sat further back waiting to be discovered. It made sense from a business standpoint and Lex could appreciate that. He was also pleased there was adequate lighting and a true sense of organization.

He found the books printed in the 1950s and quickly realized they were first printings of books copyrighted in that decade. He moved on, watching for the distinctive green and gold seal proclaiming his love's name. There was a shelf of classics, but those were the Greek classics in Latin. He leafed through a couple before putting them back.

“Three books,” he told himself. “Three little books. They can't be that hard to find.”

He followed the corridors of books logically, thinking the 1950s would be near the 1940s and 1930s. He was wrong. There were more classics in Latin, Greek classics, Gothic novels, and finally a case devoted to The Bible. Lex retraced his steps, found the 1950s and headed in the only other direction he could go. He passed the encyclopaedias and reference books. He found a section of romance novels. His shoulder knocked an illustrated volume of Kama Sutra down to a page so artistically sexual he took the book with him to buy. He counted his steps, tried to think of an overview of the store by picturing the layout from above. He scanned for the Chloe green and felt his eyes burning. There were barely enough hours of the day for the travel he'd done, and his schedule hadn't included four hours in a single store.

The lights flickered off and back on, as if in warning of closing time. Lex looked at his watch. He had been wandering for twenty minutes. He walked back to the counter forcefully, determined to get some answers from the somnolent clerk.

“I'm looking for the Chloe books,” he nearly screamed.

A pair of headphones pulled leisurely down, the guy spoke in a London drawl. “These th'uns ere?”

He picked up three books in green, gold seals reading Chloe across the spines. Lex took them and turned to the title pages, making sure they were the right ones. He smiled. There were 11 books in Hamburg and 46 in Paris. He would be able to continue that night and sleep on the plane. He was reaching for his wallet when he felt the first twinge.

It was too easy, he thought.

“Canlytekash.”

The clerk pushed the credit card back to Lex with the baffling statement. Perhaps his piercings were getting in the way.

“I'm sorry?”

The pseudo-punk shrugged and said more clearly, “We c'nly take cash.”

The books weren't expensive, less than $75 dollars each, but Lex didn't have it. He had cash before he arrived in Amsterdam and had to have it converted to buy the first forty books. He asked for some British pounds, but only enough to get a taxi to the store and back to the airport. He wasn't intending to stay long and didn't bring his employees with him. Usually they would have made maps and local currency available. It was their role to make his life seamless.

It wasn't that the books were an expensive present. They represented Chloe's love of the written word, his sincere belief that one day her name would be on a novel or a full-length investigative book instead of a newspaper column. He respected her tenacity to dig back through time and attempts to hide to fill her articles with reliable information. He loved her work ethic. The velvet coverings of the books even felt like her; softness with strength and longevity underneath.

It hurt to hand the books back to the disgruntled youth, but Lex stayed civil. He asked for them to be held until the next day, and he flicked up his collar to walk to the taxi he had paid to wait for him. At least at The Savoy they would take his credit.

Chapter Seven

Lex slept only as long as he could justify and called for room service early in the morning. He was insistent there would be no more delays. He would pay in cash, move quickly and efficiently, and he would not strangle the irritating people he was likely to meet.

At least it's too early for muggers, he thought, looking around at the foggy morning that could pass for twilight.

He checked out of his hotel and called the pilot to have the plane readied. The bookstore opened on time, and he was waiting outside when the elderly owner arrived. She looked him up and down, saw he was cold and took an extra few minutes to dig her keys from her purse. Her eyes narrowed under blue shaded lids, and she lit a cigarette.

“S'only five to,” she said, and strolled away to pollute her lungs.

Lex gritted his teeth. He was not going to let himself be shaken. There was time for a five minute delay. He leaned on the building and imagined Chloe's reaction when she had her own selection of novels taking up a shelf in his library. He had no qualms about giving her part of his space because she would be so happy. She might go into one of her rare giggling sprees and need to be kissed out of it.

He was smiling to himself when the woman came back to unlock the store. She ducked inside quickly, presumably to punch in an alarm code, then eyed him unkindly. Thinking his brooding was making her suspicious, Lex smiled with as much warmth as he could. Her mouth twisted into a maroon sneer, and she walked away from the door. Lex took that to mean he was allowed inside, so he let himself in.

He approached the counter and saw the four books were still waiting for him. Producing his wallet, he pretended the woman hadn't been rude. It didn't matter as long as Chloe's books were for sale.

“I was here last night,” he said, “But I didn't have cash. I had these books.”

The woman read the titles of the Chloe books with disdain, but when she got to the illustrated Kama Sutra her face turned up to him blankly. He leaned back and cleared his throat, holding out his money.

“I believe that was the total, correct me if I'm wrong.”

She stared for so long he felt obliged to explain himself, sincerely regretting the impulse buy. The influence of an elderly British woman was making him feel like a pervert trying to buy girlie magazines. He was an educated man and he did occasionally enjoy erotic literature, but it was literature first and foremost. He was not a pervert. She was really making him angry and he didn't have to justify himself to her. His personal life was quite full without having to drool salaciously over strange women.

“Listen-” he began, a rant Chloe would be proud of bubbling up.

“This'un s'half off,” the woman told him. “Chip never checks it out in m'book. He's my grandson. Should sack him, though.”

She took Lex's money, gave his change back, and put the books neatly into a bag. As the receipt was printing he mentally rolled his eyes. All the sneaking around was making him paranoid and crabby. He would be much happier once Chloe knew everything and was making fun of all his troubles. She always enjoyed that and made him laugh at things.

He said a polite goodbye and took a taxi to the airport. He was trying to make Hamburg the quickest stop yet, so he paid exorbitant interest to have his money exchanged at the airport. Chloe was back in Metropolis and she hadn't been feeling well. From her voice on the phone he could tell she wasn't fully recovered. He hoped the gift basket had helped until he could be there in person.

It was about Chloe, otherwise he wouldn't have left her at all.

Chapter Eight

Paris had been kind. Lex was greeted with the kind of warmth he was almost repulsed by, and his cheeks were kissed and pinched. Lipstick smears of two different shades marked his face and he was walked, personellement, to the shelf of Chloe books. The two men who ran the bookstore stroked his shoulders and left him to his purchases. He could hear them discreetly snapping pictures as he bent down to inspect the quality of the books, but it wasn't too distracting. They had almost half of the set in one location on a brightly lit dream of a bookcase.

At least my looks are getting me somewhere, he mused. My brain alone isn't up to bringing me where I need to be.

He leafed through all 46 before turning to carry his basket to the front of the store. The audience had grown and a camera flash blinded him.

“For our scrapbook,” he was told.

Despite the puzzling statement, Lex agreed to pose with them. They introduced themselves as Jean-Jean; Jean-Pierre and Jean-Louis, and he had no idea why they'd want to merge into a conglomerate name, but he used it because he had no idea who belonged to which Jean moniker. He posed shaking hands with them, reading one of their books, and signing their scrapbook. If he wasn't careful he thought he'd be invited to do a dramatic reading of Les Miserables. Luckily it didn't come to that and he dodged the farewell kisses.

He rewarded himself by picking up some exquisite take out and eating it with his pilot and co-pilot before they flew to Hamburg. Germany was cold, and Lex had bought a parka. He zipped himself into the puffy coat and waddled with self-satisfaction to his cab. He was prepared now. He had cash, he was dressed properly, and he only had eleven books to find in this last store.

I wonder if Chloe is going to be able to come to my place this weekend, he thought. I can't bring her to Smallville because she'd find the greenhouse.

His driver stopped in front of a huge building.

“I don't think this is it,” Lex told him. “I'm looking for a bookstore.”

He showed the address again and the driver nodded, pointing to the warehouse. He tapped the meter. Lex stared for a few seconds, cursing himself for feeling calm and optimistic. He should know better. He asked the taxi driver to wait, but he didn't speak German and the man pretended not to understand with exaggerated facial expressions.

There was a doorbell, so he rang it, ignoring the roar of the taxi as it abandoned him. If he was in the wrong place he was going to need a hotel room for the night anyway. His pilots couldn't clock more air hours that day unless he got back quickly. The door slid up like a garage, and a portly man looked out. He nodded.

“Luthor, ja?”

He continued talking as Lex stepped inside and squinted in the dimness. He looked at his watch and said something in an approving tone, presumably that Lex was right on time for their rescheduled appointment. He showed the list of books they were supposed to have and watched as light switches were turned on.

“What the – It's a warehouse!”

Lex yelled it, but his dismay was hardly satisfied with the outburst. Instead of a stuffy little cubby, or a modern marketplace bookstore, he was looking at crates packed on scaffolding. He was standing next to a forklift. The man next to him was wearing a hard hat and offered one to the devastated billionaire. It was lime green, perfectly clashing with the brown parka.

The man wrote a code down, and pointed to the left of the huge space. It was not the kind of adventure buying books normally required.

“I can't find anything here,” Lex said, shaking his head . He took the hat when the man shook it at him, insistent. “Fine. I need to make a phone call.”

He jammed the hard hat on and called his flight crew. He would be keeping them from their families one more night, but he would make it up to them, he promised. He called a very expensive hotel and made sure all the rooms had room service, mini bar, spa treatments and movies billed to him. He really didn't want to have to hire a new pilot. The current one was very understanding.

“Okay, let's go,” he said, waving for the man to lead the way.

The flurry of German in response seemed to boil down to the man staying behind with the forklift, where he was sitting. He pulled out a paper bag and started setting his lunch out. Lex thought about yelling or bribery, but the man was so relaxed and nonchalant. Not knowing the German word for eviscerate was making things impossible.

Lex set out in the vague direction of right. He walked for a few minutes, trying to get his bearings. He could see where there were codes marked on the shelves, but he didn't know if he was getting near.

“I should have driven the forklift,” he mumbled. “I know I can after that damn loader.”

He hit a corner and turned right again, finding another section of the warehouse. It was mildly interesting to see the different things stored there, including a beautiful Porsche he was tempted to buy himself. He was beginning to think it was either an illegal operation or a tax shelter, but he was getting Chloe's books.

He turned again and it was a dead end, so Lex spun around. He sighed. He was lost, the careful memorization of turns lost somewhere in his irritation. He was lost and Chloe would only know he was going to marry her when someone found his skeleton clutching his proposal ideas.

“What's German for 'come find me, you idiot,'” he asked the emptiness.

Back and to the left didn't take him anywhere recognizable. If he could find that sweet car he could get back to the front and yell at the cheerfully uncomprehending workman. He tried right and peered into the distance. It was worst than the time Chloe took him to a discount department store, then lost him in the electronics section. He had to have her paged.

He had to admit his sense of direction rarely got a workout anymore, and he was just blundering around. There was no order he could tell to the shelf markers, no particular type of items stored together.

His phone rang and he thought for a second it might be a rescue party. At least that was an option if he really couldn't get out.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Lex.”

He smiled, Chloe's voice working immediately to make him happy. “Hi, sweetheart, how are you?”

She sighed. “I'm okay, busy. I was wondering if you're still getting back tomorrow morning?”
He kept walking, and a flash of a bumper caught his eye. He lowered the phone and ran toward it, but it was another car, not the Porsche. He brought the phone to his ear and suppressed the urge to tell her his troubles. It was her surprise he was trying to achieve.

“I ran into some difficulties, so I think it will be another day,” he growled, glaring at the warehouse. “I'm really confused, Chloe. I have no idea where I am. Can I call you later? I need to think right now.”

She nodded slowly, absorbing her idiocy. At least he was admitting something was wrong.

“Okay, but I want to talk soon. I hope you figure it out,” she said quietly.

“I will. Bye.”

She hung up first, and Lex shook himself back into action. He would follow a wall, get back to the front and scream nonsensical insults until he felt better. Then he would pay a million dollars for that guy to find the books for him, because everyone seemed to get the idea of a large wad of cash.

He guessed at a direction, strode quickly, and turned, bumping into his old friend lazy German guy. He glared magnificently, but the man only slapped him on the back, and pointed. There were the books, in a nice little box all ready for him. His name was printed in block letters if he needed one more sign.

Lazy German guy was not getting a tip.

Chapter Nine

Chloe burst into Lois' apartment, her face set in depressed pep. She produced a bag of snacks as a preemptive peace offering for the ranting her cousin would be suffering, and she had rented a DVD for winding down after she had spilled her guts.

Lois had been cautious of Lex's interest in Chloe all along, but she had warmed up to the idea as the dating turned into exclusivity and permanence. She didn't call Lex a friend, but she found him funny and admitted she could see why he was a good boyfriend. She still thought the bald thing was gross, and Chloe tolerated her tolerance.

“I expected you to be studying like crazy,” Lois said. “Which tells me you either went insane and burned down your dorm and your books along with it, or you've stressed yourself out.”

Planting her hands on her hips, she looked the blond up and down and nodded sternly. “Stress.”

Sheepishly, Chloe put the goodies on the coffee table and nodded. “A lot of it, but I haven't been studying that much. Lex said something to me yesterday and I want you to help me decide what he meant.”

Lois had taken to wearing her hair in an Amy Winehouse bouffant, and the high pouf wiggled dangerously as she sat down. She rifled through the bags and pouted.

“Little cousin, I guide you all these years, I give you my best advice, I tell you what I know-”

“Not that much,” Chloe interjected teasingly.

Lois glared mildly. “I keep you safe until the age of 21 when you can buy booze for us both, and what do you bring me? Orange soda. Orange. Soda. It's a slap in the face.”

Ducking her head in mock shame, the blond swung her arm up and landed a very light slap to Lois' face. She was rewarded with a return slap from her cousin, just as light and ending in a grab to her chin.

“We could do the chick fight thing, but you wanted to talk about your husband,” Lois said. “So I'm going to be the bigger person here.”

Green eyes strayed up to the dancing ball of hair and Chloe replied, “You do have the bigger hair.”

Their truce established, the young women unpacked the junk food, poured soda and kicked off their shoes. Once it was time to actually speak her nervous suspicions Chloe started to feel mean about it. She didn't have any evidence except her strong feeling of some barrier and distance.

Lois had been calling Lex her husband since he gave her a ring for her twentieth birthday. He had changed his behaviour then as well; his bonding with Gabe had been a project for a few months until both father and daughter complained of how little time Lex was spending with his girlfriend. The ending of her teen years seemed to symbolize a new level in their relationship. He was officially expected at Sullivan-Lane family events, without it having to be said. He had drinks with General Lane and Chloe's father on Christmas, and he helped in the kitchen on Thanksgiving. He was comfortable with the blunt, sometimes insulting conversations that occurred over family dinners. He held his own and was able to be relaxed and joking.

Chloe thought back to her birthday and Thanksgiving, both only a month previous. He had been loving toward her and the gift of a necklace was sweetly done inside a limo on the way to her birthday party. He talked politics with the men, brought her cake and drank a champagne toast. It was only when he was dropping her off at the dorm she felt him pulling back. He was happy, but he wasn't trying to extend the evening with her. He kissed her and wished her many happy returns before he walked her to her door. Usually when he had a night of being surrounded by people he was reluctant to be alone again. He hadn't seemed to care, and the same thing happened after Thanksgiving.

“What's up?”

“I've been getting this feeling from Lex that maybe he's sick of me,” Chloe said, her voice pitched like a question. “He just didn't seem to be having fun at my birthday or Thanksgiving.”

Crossing her eyes comically, Lois reapplied her lipstick. “And? Those were family dinners, frankly I'd worry if he was having too much fun. I don't think he was sick of you, but being sick of us as a group I can believe. Sometimes I have to fake it. You're being a big sill.”

She wished she was being silly, but Chloe had Lex's own words to tell her differently. He felt as odd and shaken as she did, and his time away from her was an attempt to think where they were headed and if it would be together. He said it to her, sadly, but he said it.

“I called him earlier, and he answered the phone like he was happy it was me, but then he got all quiet like he was realizing something else. He sounded . . . tired. I asked him when he'd be back and he said there were some difficulties.”

Lois waved a hand. “Business stuff, you know he can't tell you everything about some of the deals he does.

“'I'm really confused. I have no idea where I am right now.' That's what he said,” Chloe quoted dully. “He's going to be out of town more than he's here right until Christmas. What do I do?”

Her cousin's mouth was held in a straight line, and her eyes were sympathetic.

“Doesn't mean it's over,” Lois proclaimed. “He's thinking about things, and you like them with brains, so that's good. He's having a moment where his life is messing with him; everybody does. Do what you're doing, talk if he wants to talk, but take care of yourself first. If he's not being the boyfriend you want you should find someone else.”

It was sensible and reflected the way Lois tried to keep her family members safe. She liked Lex but Chloe's welfare came first. It wasn't as reassuring as being told she had nothing to worry about, but the blond was happy to have vented. She knew she wasn't imagining things.

“Okay. Do you want to watch the movie now?”

Obviously relieved there wasn't going to be crying, Lois picked up the DVD cases and yelled, “Smut! My favourite.”

Chloe gave her a small smile. “Just no drooling.”

The brunette squinted at her with horror. “I would never! It's all about respect for the beauty of the human form getting all sweaty and ripply. Hey, maybe Lex will pull himself together and take you to the Swiss Alps to ski during Christmas. Maybe he's just really traumatized by Christmas shopping.”

It was a nice hypothetical, and Chloe didn't want to be rational anymore. She would be cautious about Lex but she wouldn't throw herself at some rebound guy. She would watch sweaty movie sex, and she would stop obsessing.

Chapter Ten

Lex swallowed hard and reminded himself he was safe. He could call for help and someone would come. There were places he could sit down and rest, places to get food and drinks. There were places he could be alone, though not comfortable. He was fine. He had a purpose. He could leave if he needed to leave.

He didn't like the mall with Chloe and without her he felt even worse. His right hand, the hand she usually held and swung cheerfully as they walked, was cold. He was too hot, the lights hurt his eyes and he was jet-lagged. He opened his list, panicked a little and closed it, sitting down on a bench. The potted plant tickled the top of his head, but if he ducked down he was hidden.

There wasn't anyone to hide from, really, but he felt better, and Chloe put a lot of emphasis on his feelings. He had felt very awkward about it for a long time, before realizing she wasn't using it to judge a weakness. She believed he was a good person who should be comfortable when possible, and tried to consider his feelings. She asked him which movies he would like before giving her preference from among them. She suggested they alternate the choice of restaurants. She massaged his knotted muscles, rubbed his bruises, and carried his headache medicine in her purse.

The list came out and Lex fished a pen from his pocket. He was doing this, and it wasn't difficult unless he psyched himself out. He knew everything he had to buy and where to get it. They were commonplace items for once; Chloe's favourites. He saw them daily when he was in the penthouse, sitting on his dresser and in his cupboards. She liked keychains that doubled as puzzle books, and shampoo with a fox on the bottle. She like chocolate covered almonds and forest green liquid pens. She liked the paper in a certain brand of notebook, and colour-coded file folders instead of the manila coloured ones. Her hair brush she used when drying her hair had little cut outs, and the one she carried around was stuffed with a lavender oil sachet.

Lex had a list of brand names, and he was ready, but he wanted to start with the store he felt he could navigate best. The office supply store was familiar, and he walked up to the counter with confidence.

“Hello, I'm going to need 480 Heliotrope notebooks, green covers, 200 pages. In the cases, if you have them. I also need 3000 forest green liquid ink Toreador pens, and 4000 Smithson number two pencils.”

The freckled young man standing behind the counter smiled grimly. “Welcome to Papermatic, where we have everything your place of business needs to file smart,” he chirped. “How can I help you today?”

Lex gamely repeated his order, making himself wait patiently as the boy scribbled it on a postage sized stamp of paper with a dull pencil. “You won't be able to read that,” he commented. “Why don't we do an order form.”

“An order form is only called for with telephone orders and you're right here, sir.”

Lex nearly rolled his eyes. “I will call you on my cellphone.”

He wasn't buying office supplies so it wasn't optional to get this done. He wanted to show Chloe he supported her goals and would continue to do so after she was a working journalist. She had told him she wanted to work in newspapers for at least a decade, so he was getting her a decade's worth of pens, pencils and notebooks.

The kid punched keys on the cash register, and his eyebrows nearly leapt off his head when he saw the total. “Sir, this is quite a large sale. I think I might need the manager for this.”

Lex nodded, hoping for someone capable of sprouting facial hair. It would be different if the kid was capable, but he seemed remarkably surprised that a lot of things cost a lot of money. He strolled around, browsing, until he received a tap on the shoulder.

“Hello sir, Milton asked me to help you with a large purchase. Lex repeated himself for a third time to a teenager who looked even younger than the first one. With a swift movement, the guy leafed through his clipboard and pointed out a few things.

“I have those cases brought up front. Would you like to use our delivery service? If not Milton can go with you to your vehicle.”

Lex looked at the freckled young man, who waved awkwardly and went back to stacking boxes on a dolly. Spending a few minutes with Milton was such a bad idea, he could feel it. And Chloe told him his feelings were important.

“I'll take delivery,” Lex stated firmly. “Delivery is great.”

He signed his receipt and said his goodbyes, happy for the first few steps. Then Lex realized his next item was nail polish, and his spirits fell. It was going to be a long day and he hated the mall.

Chapter Eleven

Lex stepped into the store and scanned the other customers. There were more of them than he would like, but it wasn't what Chloe would call 'packed and panicked.' It was a weekday and there was still time before Christmas. He could deal badly with a normal volume of people, but a large volume would kill him. She had made him promise never to go to a mall on Saturday for any reason.

He picked up a plastic basket and walked up the middle aisle, trying to work out how things were organized. One he found the nail polish he took a moment to be glad he didn't have to match a shade other than white. It had to be excessive the rainbow of colours that were displayed, especially the ones he'd never seen anyone wearing. The bottles of white had names like Bone, Ivory, Pristine, Snow, Sheer, and Purity. He rolled his eyes.

“White, plain white,” he muttered to himself. When she had a day off Chloe pulled a pillow off the sofa, sat in front of the television and gave herself French tips. Her meticulous painting with the little brushes was mesmerizing, and Lex had fallen into an unaccustomed nap many times watching her.

He picked up a bottle of clear, thankful it was named Clear. Taking a chance on his eyes being adequate, he picked up one of the white bottles named Ivory. He put them in the basket and sighed.

“I know, my nails are eating me out of house and home,” a male voice piped up from beside him.

Lex glanced over with a polite smile, ready to brush off this strange man, only to see a very tall, large-bicepped woman in an evening gown and heels.

“I should just go to a salon, but who has time,” the cross-dresser lamented. “I use this and it's pretty good.”

He handed an orange box to Lex, who had recovered enough to smile ironically. He'd been mistaken for many things in his life, but not a drag queen. Maybe the was the bald head. He wasn't offended, just oddly amused. It was a side-line he could look into if he ever needed a new kink.

“Thanks,” he said. “There are too many colours right next to each other.”

He picked up a horrific green shade and read it was called Green Skittles. Cringing, Lex put it back quickly. He found a sheer pink and set it in the basket. Next he had the dubious honour of buying shampoo, something he'd done exactly zero times. He had memorized the sticker on Chloe's shampoo and it had a fox. There couldn't be as many choices there as in the nail polish.

He walked a few aisles over, and looked up at the shelves in despair. There was an aisle of shampoo, an entire aisle. His new friend was wandering nearby and Lex shook his head. “This just seems excessive,” he said.

“I use baby shampoo on my wigs, not this expensive stuff. It's only getting rinsed out again. So did the Lex Luthor thing just happen when you shaved your head, or did you think you'd look like him even when you had hair? I've been told I could pass for Al Gore when I'm dressed straight.”

Smiling ironically, Lex took slow steps and looked for foxes. “I woke up one day looking like Lex Luthor and thought there's no reason not to make a living on it,” he replied.

He received a nod from the other man, and smiled to himself. He didn't blend in, but no one had called the paparazzi, so it was falling about even in misery. But he still hated the mall.

“Too true.” In an oddly masculine gesture from a man in a dress, the drag queen shook his hand. “I'm off to the Purple Pussycat Club. Come see my act sometime. I need some famous fans.”

“Break a leg,” Lex said sincerely. He was rarely treated to meeting a genuinely different person.

He continued the painstaking study of shampoo bottles, finding both the shampoo and conditioner side by side. Dropping them cheerfully in the cart, he carried on down the list, picking out the exact hairbrushes Chloe already owned. He didn't know how to buy her makeup, and was nervous about the message it sent to give her cosmetics. For all he knew it was the universal gift for 'I think you're an uggo, honey,' or 'I'm a secret drag queen.'

He stopped at the magazine rack, looked around, and pulled subscription cards from their pages. He saw no reason why Chloe couldn't enjoy her favourite magazines delivered to the penthouse.

Standing in line for the checkout, he looked at the racks of gum, candy and small toys. He selected some varied fruit flavoured gum, not sure of Chloe's favourite. There was a box selling lumps of coal, apparently a plastic case with candy inside. He bought one out of curiosity, and picked up another one with a sly smile.

I'll send it to Dad, he thought. I might even tell him Chloe and I are getting married, seeing as he's all the way in Prague and can't screw it up. I'll just have the private jet put up for maintenance as a precaution first.

Lex forgot his thoughts of his semi-retired father as he saw the last person ahead of him pick up her bags. He put the basket down on the counter and looked at the harried cashier. She smiled weakly, “Hello.”

“Hi,” he said distractedly. He pulled his items from the basket and walked away to put it back. The repeated sharp beeps of the scanner hurt his ears and he was glad to be finished with his shopping.

“That's $23.77,” he was told.

He set two twenties on the counter, and sent the cashier a friendly smirk. “Keep the change.”

Lex Luthor walked out of the mall, proudly carrying a drug store bag, his eyes sparkling with what might have been Christmas spirit. He had survived, and his life was very full of hope.

Chapter Twelve

Looking over the presents sorted on the floor in front of the fireplace – at a safe distance - Lex could say it was all worth it. He had what he needed to buy, and was relieved to be finished with shopping. He still had to wrap each present, but it was paper and tape. He refused to be intimidated by rolls of plastic with glue and recycled pictures of holly berries. He refused.

In his refusal, he was taking time out for a relaxing chapter of A Christmas Carol as he drank a hot toddy beside the fireplace. The seeping cold panic and weather-related cold was banished from him, his mind was at ease, and he felt accomplished. He had delegated nothing but the transportation and building. He had even lugged the bags himself, to the amusement of his butler.

The announcement that he would be spending the evening in the rarely used living room, wrapping presents, had nearly made stoic William burst into laughter. Everyone had been underestimating him lately, and Lex had shrugged it off. He would rise above by wrapping Chloe's gifts beautifully. He didn't have time to learn how to shop for Christmas this year.

He had asked for the appropriate materials to be picked up, as well as a suitably large tree and ornaments for the castle. Chloe would be going to Smallville to visit her father once the school term was over, so decorating the penthouse didn't make much sense. She would hardly be there which made it the ideal staging area for his surprise.

Lex finished his drink and licked his lips in pleasure. He wasn't immune to good food, but he dared say he was feeling an unaccustomed Christmas spirit. He frowned, thinking back to the mall. Maybe he should hold off on declaring himself jolly until he finished with the presents.

He read to the final word of the chapter and paused. He had all evening, but he wasn't inclined to leave it until the last minute. That would look like reluctance, and he was confident he could wrap presents quite well. It was an orderly, repetitive task he wouldn't want as a full-time pursuit, but he was doing it for Chloe and she deserved his best effort.

The book was marked at his place, and put down on the table so he could continue at his leisure. His cup was delivered back to the kitchen and rinsed before Lex put it in the dishwasher. He stopped by his bathroom to brush his teeth. Once he'd brushed his teeth the minty flavour reminded him of candy canes and he went to the foyer and snagged one from the bowl there. Unwrapping the straight end, he enjoyed the candy as he surveyed his supplies. He had tape that claimed to be invisible, which he thought was a bit silly. He had rolls of metallic paper, flat sheets with trees, teddy bears and angels. He had sheer paper that was labeled tissue. There were bows, and boxes.

Lex nodded to himself, brave on sugar and recent victory. He understood what all the items should be in the gift wrapping, so all he had to do was replicate it. He received and unwrapped many presents, doing the reverse should only be a matter of getting to work. He rewrapped the unfinished candy and put it on the table.

He took the first gift he could reach and sat on the floor. The little bottle of nail polish glinted at him expectantly, and Lex stared it down. He couldn't wrap it as it was. It would be the easiest-guessed present ever given, and might spill. He saw bubble wrap and decided a few layers of that would do nicely. He cut off a section, rolled the nail polish into a puffy cylinder, and studied it. It didn't look like anything he'd ever been given before. She would never guess just one little bottle was inside. Once it was further rolled into some red wrapping paper, taped together and stuck with a large bow, he could honestly say it was decent, but seemed like an extravagant use of paper. It was roughly the size of a wine bottle, but light as a feather.

The first one is usually the roughest, he told himself. I'll carry on and smooth out the details. Once I'm at the end I'll come back to this one and rewrap it much better.

He chose a case of notebooks, tipped it onto its side and unrolled a large amount of paper. The teddy bears dented and creased as he tried to wind them around the box. A corner popped through the paper and he cursed. The box was poorly designed for wrapping. Did no one else buy cases of notebooks for a spouse?

Lex pushed the box away. He would have to come up with another way to wrap those, perhaps taking them out of the cases and splitting them into smaller quantities. He was going to need more paper.

He stood up and walked out into the hallway, looking for the housekeeper, Mrs. Grimaldi. She had been kind enough to buy his wrapping supplies and he needed her to make another trip, that night if possible. She was in the kitchen, her apron on as she wiped the counters. Her short, bustling figure pushed around him as he stood in the middle of the room.

“Mrs. Grimaldi, I wonder if you wouldn't mind buying more wrapping paper for me,” he said meekly.

She had been hired by Chloe after a last minute meeting had called Lex away from the penthouse, and Lex had been surprised and displeased to find his new housekeeper ran her job with little tolerance for his interference. She did what he asked, and also what needed to be done above and beyond what he asked. She was the reason everything was museum quality pristine in every room except his office. He had an agreement with her that his office was under his control, she pronounced it ugly anyway, and Lex assumed the matter was closed as peacefully as he could expect.

He kept Mrs. Grimaldi around because she was the first to refer to Chloe as his wife, and deferred to her perfectly. If all else failed, he could ask his wife to ask his housekeeper to do things his way, and it would work as long as Chloe would play along.

She won't, he mused, but that is half the fun.

The middle-aged housekeeper was shaking her head, preparing to answer in her own time. He waited, and in a few minutes she had finished the counters and was wringing out the sponge.

“You didn't use all of it,” she said firmly. “That could last me four years' worth of Christmas. Let me see what you've done.”

She walked faster than he did, and Lex nearly had to run. He didn't know how she did that, but he started babbling about disguising presents and the importance of surprise in his overall strategy.

“She'll take the ring and cry and marry you,” Mrs. Grimaldi said grudgingly. “But she shouldn't have to deal with whatever mess you've made of her presents.”

She burst into the living room and shook her head for a long time at the gift-wrapped nail polish bottle. She poked at the ends, and wiggled the bow. She shook it and finally unwrapped it to reveal the small item. Then she looked at him with something like pity.

“I'm not wrapping all of these, but I'll do an example of each type of thing, and you can follow them,” she said. “I think you'd want to save some trees for your nosy, blond children to run around.”

She pointed out what she would need and Lex brought it to her at the coffee table, taking her gruff kindness with absolute good humour. Mrs. Grimaldi once tried to instruct him how to tie his boots, and she made no secret that she didn't think much of his genius level intellect since he couldn't operate the can opener. But she thought Chloe would marry him and have his children.

“I'm a whiz with the can opener now,” he proclaimed cheerfully. “And Chloe loves me.”

The housekeeper looked up to humour him with a nod. “That ring better be a nice big one,” she said coyly. She used a long roll of wrapping paper to push his half-eaten candy cane away, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

Lex was too happy to be offended, so he sat on the sofa next to her and watched closely as she wrapped the nail polish into a decorative plume of metallic paper and ribbon. It looked much better than his idea, but he thought Chloe might be able to guess what it was. Of course, she was pretty amazing.

Chapter Thirteen

The tutorial had moved on from bottles to large boxes, and was in something of a stall at the notebooks. They were heavy, numerous and identical. Mrs. Grimaldi felt one dropped into a gift bag with one of the pens and one of the pencils was a good way to avoid long hours of wrapping presents she would be bored opening.

“She really likes these notebooks,” Lex insisted. “It will make a very important statement having 480 of them under the tree. She'll understand what it means.”

The older woman scoffed. “You bought 480 notebooks and you want to wrap them all up? Do all rich people have too much money?”

He waited for a sign that it was a rhetorical question, but she was staring at him as if she demanded an answer.

“Yes, we do, and it's a good thing, otherwise we'd be known as crazy rather than eccentric. I'm a weeping sore on the greedy fat rear end of society, but please don't hold it against me. I wasn't raised any better.”

The truth struck a chord, and she sighed. “That's true. I'm surprised you don't pick your teeth with a dagger and swing around like a pirate in the movies.”

He smirked and said, “My masseuse would kill me for the swinging around.”

Garnering a suspicious look, he stacked notebooks in front of her and brushed imaginary dirt off the top cover. The housekeeper picked up five and pushed them to the very bottom of a large gift bag. She lifted the bag by the handles, testing the weight. Once she was satisfied it would hold she put in five more notepads, repeating the testing. It took a few minutes before she lifted the bag, winced and shook her head.

“Fifty per bag,” she told him, “Not one more. Crumple tissue on the top so she has something to unwrap. Use the top few notebooks to hold it down, then some tape. Make sure you get both handles when you move the bag. It's going to groan under the unnecessary weight.”

She stepped away to pick up one of the smaller items, and Lex heard her mutter something about his brain being unnecessary weight on his neck. He was alarmed to be smiling about that. Usually he was able to shrug off the comments, but lately he was almost basking in the ill-mannered, unkind and unjust ways he'd been suffering. Christmas might be making a martyr of him.

He pinched himself and the pain was annoying. So he wasn't a martyr. The other explanation was the anticipation of future happiness was so great he was able to live with any discomfort he currently felt. That had to be it. Despite his tiring errands and haranguing by Mrs. Grimaldi he was in a bright, optimistic mood. It would be a liability to be so cheerful if he had to discipline any of his employees. He'd ruin his speech about responsibility and consequence by smiling.

The lump of coal caught his eye, and Lex picked it up to show it to his housekeeper. “How would I wrap something like this,” he asked, mischeiviously.

She took it in her hands, weighed it, and looked at the choices of wrapping papers. “Heavy paper in a box for mailing, then tissue around it for padding. Give me a challenge.”

He pointed to the 100 book set of Chloe novels, and she didn't even blink. “Put them on a shelf, drape paper over the shelf, put a bow on top. You're not even trying to catch me up,” she complained.

He laughed and snagged his half candy cane, sucking on it. The doorbell rang, and the butler had gone out for his time off. He put down the candy. Mrs. Grimaldi would normally answer the door, but she was wading into the presents. Lex hoped she might wrap a few more for him in her neat, efficient way.

“I'll get that,” he said, getting a vague wave over her shoulder in reply. He closed up the living room and went into the foyer, putting his eye to the peep hole. Chloe was there, looking beautiful and stressed. He opened the door hurriedly.

“Chloe, what are you doing here? We weren't doing anything tonight,” he said uncertainly.

She used the living room more than he did, and there was no time to get things put away. He could ask for a few minutes to put up her presents, but he didn't want her to feel any pressure to give him anything near what he was planning for her. One little token meant more than a big price tag from someone he barely knew. Lucas bought his Christmas gift with money his brother was giving him while in hiding, so the delivery of a speedboat in December just made Lex look at his credit card statements.

Her coat snagged on the doorknob because he wasn't letting her go any further into the penthouse. Lex's face was pink and his mouth was light red, smearing slightly in the corners. She didn't see a lot of passion in his eyes, but his skin was showing the marks of a romantic evening with someone else. She wanted to make him explain himself, explain the heartache ripping through her chest, but she felt too unfairly self-conscious. She hadn't done anything wrong, but Lex was treating her that way, pushing her out of his life as surely as he had once drawn her closer.

“I forgot my book in the living room,” she said. “I need it to study. I'll just pick it up and leave you to . . . your evening.”

A split-second of panic told her his guest was in the living room, probably drinking heavily and spouting all the gold-digger classic lines to convince him she was a genuine, loving person instead of one step up from a prostitute. Chloe moved to walk around him, a surge of bravery making her quick, but Lex grabbed her gently.

“Hey, you're all dressed from outside, and you don't need to go all that way. I'll get it for you.”

He nearly ran down the hallway and returned with the book, seemingly eager to be rid of her and on to the bimbo. Chloe dodged his kiss so it landed with a sticky feeling on her cheek, and she didn't meet his eyes when she said goodnight.

She proceeded calmly to her car and sat in, no lights or heat to keep her warm. She would have preferred to catch him cheating, just to make it more closed off to any idea of reconciliation. It was less concrete, but she knew lipstick. Her wouldn't be tasting hers again, but he wouldn't be lonely. He could fill his bed three times over with groupies.

She had some options to follow as well.

Chapter Fourteen

This is my lamest option, Chloe decided a few hours later. I chickened out. Lois would kick me all the way to the campus pub and make me give some strange guy a lapdance.

She was a little disappointed in herself for going to the office of the Metropolis University newspaper. Her desk was comforting and familiar, but working herself into distraction was hiding. Reporters didn't cry at their desks, so she was at her desk and would stay there as long as she could stay awake. It was an old plan, her getting over Clark plan, and she hated it as much as she hated the scarred feeling on her cheek where Lex had kissed her.

He was a chronic womanizer, and for all she knew a habitual philanderer as well. It shouldn't surprise her as much as it was. She had believed she knew him, and she did; she knew he was ultimately an insecure man traumatized by every intimate relationship he'd ever had. He might only be able to carry on a normal courtship for so long before he either had to have a disasterous marriage or a spectacular breakup. He craved power and she didn't let him boss her around. He wanted control, though to be fair he had never tried to control her. He wanted a woman who could live in his world full-time, replete with manners from Victorian England and an ability to ignore any controversy surrounding his dinner guests. She had never fit, would never get the chance to try.

Lex created a little pocket of his life for her to be a part of, making his penthouse her hangout for watching movies and relaxing without having to deal with all the drama and noise of dorm life. He let her move in for weekends, and they played at being a serious couple. They were happy with each other, probably in love equally, but she had wondered if it would last. She would be a working reporter and he would be big news.

Chloe knew Lex could confide in her and she would never tell anyone else what had been said, but she didn't think he knew. He didn't like to see her reading his bad press, even when she was critiquing the writing and finding it biased. He hesitated before saying he'd be in a meeting, as if she would accuse him of being the evil CEO caricature running a plot to take over the world.

There was a divide between his life and the life anyone else might lead whether they were rich or poor. She did her best to work around it, but had found only Lex's effort could allow her to understand how he was feeling and what he was thinking. Successful couples needed to be able to pry into each other and find the hurts so they could make it better and lend support. She had missed him moving on to another woman, so it was unlikely she ever knew Lex that well.

“Hey,” a voice said from the doorway. Chloe rubbed at her face nervously, but she had been brooding instead of crying.

“Hi, Bobbo,” she replied. “I was just getting out of here.”

She closed her laptop even though nothing was open but the screensaver. It was lucky she was often in the newsroom late, usually with the lights off except for her desk lamp. She didn't look like a depressive idiot. Bobbo, really Robert, was another reporter, and she knew how emotionally stunted that made him. He would take in the facts, see everything as it usually was and ignore any emotions from her.

He wasn't a particularly nice guy, their actual conversations numbering in the dozens over a few years, but he walked over to her desk instead of going to his own. “What's up?”

Chloe shrugged. “Nothing. I was just going to pick up something to eat.” She got her coat on and grabbed her cellphone from the desk.

He took her messenger bag and put it over her shoulder for her. “You want to split a pizza,” he asked. “It's $7 night, but I can't eat the whole thing.”

The offer wasn't heartfelt, and she didn't feel any real interest for or from him, but Chloe nodded. She would take a little time out from billionaire and eat some pizza with someone her own age. They could talk about journalism and their majors. She would crawl into bed on a full stomach and try to sleep away the dread.

He led the way out, and she thanked him when he held the door for her. Robert was very average looking, fit in a non-athletic way, and she learned he intended to be a lawyer. He dressed in layers of long and short sleeved t-shirts and she tried to think of something to say to him.

“Is your dorm as cold as McArthur? We have the heat all the way up and only ever get the room to warmish,” she said.

He laughed. “Our rooms are okay. The bathrooms are arctic. You step in and the water from the previous shower is frozen in drops on the tiles. It's getting to be a bit rank while maintenance puts off fixing it. The only guys showering every day are the ones getting laid.”

She and Robert ate pizza and traded college stories, and he walked her to her car before going back to the newsroom. She had told him there was no need, but he had grinned.

“I'll probably just play internet poker, but if anyone else asks I was typing that story on scholarship funding,” he said, bumping her shoulder with his own.

She had smiled and as she was driving away she realized she had tried to pay for her half of the pizza and been refused. Robert had paid, and he had been friendly. She didn't know if he thought it was a date, didn't even know if he had a girlfriend.

It had been nice, and one of her options, but she didn't feel any better. She suspected when she woke up she would feel guilty of something. She had run out of anger and was filled with self-pity.

I should have gone drinking, she thought. Dancing stupidly with Lois isn't cheating.

Chapter Fifteen

Lois' take on Chloe's nondate was very specific. She had scoffed at any guilt her cousin might be feeling, and pronounced Lex so thoroughly whipped he would only cheat on Chloe with her clone.

“Do you leave a hairbrush at his place, because that's probably where he got your DNA,” she said. “Maybe he's using your clone to breed. That's it! He's cheating on you with a pregnant copy of yourself!”

Lois spent biology classes in high school flirting with a classmate, and she wasn't much of a student during her short time at Met. U. Chloe forgave her for not understanding the difficulties of cloning a functioning being and the impossibility of Lex having a clone of her older than six. Unless Lex liked vacant gazing into the distance a clone wouldn't work.

“I don't think that's it,” she argued wearily.

“Well, he's not at it with some brunette bimbo, because he's all glowy and smiley when you're around. He held your hand through dinner and neither of you could cut your food!”

Chloe grinned, thinking back to Thanksgiving. Her hand had been under the table on his leg, his fingertips drawing patterns on her skin as they picked at their food. He had been affectionate like he normally was, but it hadn't gone anywhere sexual. Sex was the only aspect of relationships he had mastered, so she didn't understand.

“He went home alone that night,” she grumbled. “I weaseled my way out of going home with my father and Lex just dropped me off there anyway. And I'm getting really confused by what's going on with me now; I had pizza with a guy.”

There was silence on the line, and Lois' expression would be something like sympathy and disdain mixed together. “You had pizza, that's not cheating. It didn't end in a kiss, you didn't make further plans. It was just a meal. I'm starting to think you're looking for ways to dump Lex.”

About to argue, Chloe stopped and thought about it. She was feeling negative overall toward Lex, but she didn't know if it had happened as a result of the odd behaviour lately or had been there before and only started compounding. She was lonely and irritable, partly Lex's fault and partly her schedule and workload. She didn't have much energy to figure out his quirks, and since she was used to knowing him better than anyone else that was humbling. Had she been giving up on Lex and looking for excuses to do so?

“I don't feel like that's what I'm doing. He's different around me, and I have no idea how he spends his time,” she said slowly. “He used to make a bigger effort to call me and meet up even if he was traveling or busy. I've never had a normal boyfriend, but doesn't lack of interest mean there's a problem?”

“Chloe, is it possible you're sending him a vibe that he's not welcome. I hate to be a member of the Woobie Lex Club, but he's kind of sensitive for a guy,” Lois said. “If he felt you wanted space he'd probably move to Cleveland. You've been sort of crabby for a while now.”

The automatic rant that she had exams, papers, Christmas shopping and a part-time job rose before Chloe even formed the thoughts. She wondered if she had been too prickly about her packed schedule for Lex to feel comfortable asking her out. She was busy, but she had made time for him. She didn't make a point of saying so because he wasn't shy once in a relationship. He could make demands of her.

“I'm going to feel so stupid if I've done this to myself,” she muttered. “Okay, so do I call him? I call him, right?”

“When was the last time you made a date with him – all your idea,” Lois asked.

Chloe searched her memory and couldn't recall. She saw Lex regularly, and since they were an official couple she didn't keep track of how many times they went out. They saw each other at least once a week unless they were both too busy, and then they tried to catch up by living together.

She wrinkled her nose and slapped herself on the forehead. Her brain was stuffed with schoolwork and there was no energy left to think of personal things. She was either a huge, masochistic moron or she was being cheated on and about to be dumped.

“I don't tell him about the pizza with the guy, do I,” she asked helplessly. “I don't think it's a date, but he might and that would be lousy. Or lousier. Depending on how much of an idiot I'm being. Or if I'm right then telling him about the pizza with the guy won't do anything worst.”

“His name is Bobbo,” Lois reflected. “Maybe you should just not mention him to anyone else.”

Chloe let her head thump onto the desk and her cousin made an uncertain noise in her ear. “Chloe, unless you want out, I think you should do you best with Lex every day. If he's setting up to leave you can't change his mind by whining, but you can show him what he'll be missing. At least you'll have another Christmas with him, and that's a pretty good deal if you love him.”

The blond put her hand under her forehead and thumped it the desk several more times to beat back tears. She hated this but she knew she was going to wait out whatever Lex was doing because she did want another Christmas in his arms.

“I already bought his stupid present, so I guess I'm hanging in for whatever stupidity is next. Boys suck.”

Chapter Sixteen

Lex Luthor straightened his tie in the mirror, sighed and ripped it off. He loosened his collar, took off his jacket. Then he rebuttoned his collar, put his jacket on and topped it all with his tie. He should have bought a new suit and tie. He needed to make himself a responsible, respectful future son-in-law, without appearing to assume approval.

Gabe Sullivan liked him and didn't denounce his daughter dating him, but Lex wasn't taking any chances. He needed to speak to the man before he asked Chloe anything, and he needed to do it on film.

Hopefully she'll laugh, he thought. She wouldn't laugh at me and say no. So if she laughs she'll have to say yes. I'll take the yes any way it's offered.

Lex stopped, let his arms fall to his sides, and stared at his reflection. “Stop being pathetic or she'll leave you for Clark.”

He drove himself to the Sullivan house, feeling an irrational disappointment when Chloe's car wasn't in the driveway. She was much better with dealing with encounters in the Luthor family than he was dealing with her father. On the bright side that probably meant he'd be more relaxed when Gabe tried to strangle him for even considering marrying his only daughter.

He carried the small case up to the door like a salesman, thinking wryly he was trying to be persuasive. But he wasn't selling anything, nor was Chloe someone to be bought. He just didn't know if he had earned her in her father's estimation. He rang the doorbell and tried to be appropriately alert and cheerful without looking manic. From Gabe's reaction upon opening the door, Lex surmised he had failed.

“Hello, Lex. You know Chloe is in the city, right,” he asked uncertainly.

“Yessir,” the billionaire slurred, feeling his face start to crack into panic. He had never called any father of his girlfriends 'sir,' and he found it oddly humiliating he had just done so. “Gabe. I was hoping to speak to you about her, without her adding her commentary.”

He had just insulted her, practically calling her irritating and prone to never shutting up. He backpedaled mentally, but his future father-in-law was chuckling.

“She does have something to say about just about everything,” he said. “Would you like something to drink?”

A double of several hard liquors would be perfect, but Lex shook his head. He was going to be treated fairly and kindly, and he had been very good to Chloe once he realized he loved her. He had tried to keep the world a safe place for her to wander and investigate. He refilled her windshield wash because she was too lazy to do it between scheduled dealership appointments.

“I have to set up the camera first,” he said. “But help yourself. I will only take a few minutes.”

He unfolded a tabletop tripod and Gabe paused. “I have no idea how to phrase this, so I'll be very blunt. Am I going to have to kill you for some reason, and you feel the camera would prevent it?”

His voice nearly sarcastic, Lex replied, “Noooo, and you'll have to listen to my prepared words before I'll tell you any thing else.”

Chloe is making me sarcastic, he thought. I'm proud of her for it, but it really is not the time to discover this. Be humble, and gracious, and appreciative. Compliment him.

“I like your chest hair,” he blurted, pointing at it poking out the top of Gabe's casual sweater.

Pulling the neck of the sweater higher, the older man frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you impregnate my daughter?”

“NOSIR!” Lex stood tall with such an aggressive show of veniality even he was impressed by himself. “I love your daughter.”

Relaxing, Gabe nodded. “Then it's the thing with the small metal circle for her finger. Okay. I'll make coffee and get my notes.”

Thrown, the young man kept setting up. He knew Chloe hated being left out of anything, and he acknowledged she deserved to know what was said about her marrying him. He couldn't bring her and ruin the surprise, but he could show her later.

Taking a cup of coffee his host offered, Lex sat on one side of the sofa. He cleared his throat and watched as Gabe set out a stack of notecards and picked up the first one.

“I like you with Chloe, and you know that, but I need to get some information. Are you an illegal drug user?”

Lex shook his head no. He really hoped this interview stayed in the present or he might not be able to deny honestly.

“Are you abusing prescription drugs, alcohol or other substances?”

He was addicted to Chloe, but didn't think it would count, so Lex shook his head.

“Are you asking me for permission to marry Chloe?” There was a hint of chagrin in the question, and Lex knew it would be difficult to explain his reasons. He felt it was right to talk to her father, but not enough to scrap the engagement if he didn't approve.

“Not really. I'd go ahead anyway,” he paused, embarrassed at his unintended rudeness. “I need her permission. But I'd feel better knowing that she has someone who will be able to comfort her if she says no.”

“You wouldn't comfort her?”

Thinking about it, Lex was unaware of his face softening into concern and love. He had no ulterior motives beyond his own happiness. Chloe loved him and she would probably be happy to marry him, and her happiness worked very well with his own. It was ideal, however, not perfect. He didn't know if his timing matched with hers.

“I couldn't comfort her. She'd feel guilty. The last thing she'd be able to do is take my comfort and feel better. I want someone to be able to help her if she can't say yes.”

“So you're not sure about getting married,” Gabe suggested gently.

“I am,” Lex said calmly, “But she doesn't know I'm planning this and she is going to be surprised by it. If she's not ready I'll wait, and I'd appreciate if you could tell her that in case she won't let me.”

“Are you trying to pressure her?”

He could wait forever or give up the idea of marriage entirely, but he didn't think it would come to that. At the outside, Chloe might want to graduate before she was engaged. She was looking at jobs and hadn't said anything about relocating. She mentioned their future fondly, expectantly, and they had tentative conversations about children and their ambitions for parenthood.

“No. But I'm trying to cover all my risks. The only thing I've been sure about in every situation is that Chloe will surprise me. How long have you had notes?”

Standing up, Gabe walked to the cabinet next to his television and opened it. He looked through movie cases for a moment before he came up with Son-in-Law. Lex remembered it vaguely from leaving the television on as he worked, but the cover was fairly self-explanatory.

“She gave me this two Christmases ago,” he said. “The same year I gave her a five year engagement calendar. I marked one thing in that calendar, and it was the day she graduated. I didn't want to see any white dresses or maternity wear before then. Beyond that I told her I trust her decision to be with you. For what it's worth I'd want her to marry you, but if she can't right now I'll also accept that and talk to her about it. I've been anticipating this, so have you, and so has she.”

Filled with confidence, Lex suddenly wanted to tell his father-in-law all the presents he had bought, but he wanted to save the surprises for Chloe to reveal. She would tell the story better, anyway.

“We're agreed then. I'll be ready for anything, and you'll be ready if she needs some space from me,” he said. “That's the last of what I needed. Thank you, Gabe.”

Chapter Seventeen

Lex nodded silently at Chloe's roommate, and let her inch out the door as he tiptoed in. He put the case of bottled water under his girlfriend's desk and slid it out of the way. Opening the cupboard next to her bookshelf, he hid two bars of chocolate and a bag of chips. With her study food topped up, he ducked outside the door and picked up the bag of food he brought for breakfast.

Her first exam was in three hours, and he knew she would have set the alarm to go off within the next ten minutes. She had studied but she would want to review, and give herself time to get to the proper room. She had tried to be the lazy freshman who wore various pajamas to exams, toting her coffee and barely awake, but the attempt at quelling her natural work ethic was more of a strain. Lex turned off the alarm before it could start and lay down next to her, intending to wake her more comfortably.

He pushed her hair back from her face and kissed her lips gently. She was sprawled, and he nudged her more to one side so he could fit on the little bed. He folded her up to his chest and her hand moved unconsciously over his abdomen before tucking into his naval.

“Chloe, it's time to wake up,” he whispered. “I brought coffee, your favourite.”

She wiggled as if to turn away and drift deeper into sleep, and Lex tickled her side. “I can't let you go back to sleep, you'd kill me for making you late. Open those eyes,” he asked.

His mouth found hers, her neck slanting back. The light, soft kiss warmed her face and she touched his shirt buttons. The vague, sleepy motions became halting, and her eyes opened as she pushed away from him.

“Lex? What are you doing? What time is it?”

He smiled gently. “It's not even time for your alarm. Relax for a few minutes and then we can eat breakfast together,” he said. “I brought some coffee and croissants, some yoghurt for you, and a berry sundae because you'll be working hard this morning. You have the literature exam today, don't you, the one with the long essay?”

She rubbed her face and slipped out of his arms and off the bed. Her rumpled pajamas were yanked savagely down as she looked at the bed across the room. “Susan let you in? She said she was sleeping until noon today.”

Lex sat on the edge of the bed and nodded. “We colluded a little. I'm paying for her to take a limo to breakfast at her favourite restaurant, and she's getting out of our way so we can spend some time together. But I won't keep you from studying if you like. I'll just put the food out and you can read your books while I read the paper.”

The sour look on his girlfriend's face was intense. She tried to run her fingers through her hair and failed, getting them stuck on tangles. As Lex walked past her she noticed her underwear was riding up, and her body felt a little sweaty. She didn't have time for him, but he was bringing a huge bag over to the bed and taking out plastic containers. Watching as he tidied the bedding that had gone too long without being washed gave her a panicked sensation, and she wanted to lock herself into the bathroom.

“Did something happen,” she asked hoarsely. “Something bad?”

Lex turned to see her staring, and reached for her. She took his hand but kept distance between them.

“Nothing is wrong, but I'll be working out of Smallville until Christmas, so I won't see you until you're on break. I wanted to make sure you have everything you need and that you know where to find me. As an added bonus I got to smell your neck just as you were waking up.”

He rubbed her knuckles and she grinned. She wasn't getting dumped that day.

“You perverted neck sniffer. And yes, I have everything I need and I know where to find you in Smallville. It's the castle in the middle of nowhere, rising four stories high, right?”

Lex nodded and reeled her in to sit back on her pillows. She crossed her legs and he handed her a napkin. Her coffee poured from the thermos was piping hot and she opened her notebook to read as she ate.

“I have something big planned for Christmas,” he told her. “It's a surprise. Do you think you could stay away from the castle until that morning?”

Her mind grasped it only as a passing thought, and she glanced up to smile. “Sure. Do you want me to bring anything?”

Lex shook his head, smiling at her mischievously. He balanced a plate with her pastry on her knee. When all of the mini buffet was in reach, he opened the newspaper flat on the bed. His eyes darted between Chloe and her food. She ate slowly, getting distracted by her notes, but she did finish her croissant and coffee. The leftovers could be a snack during her exam or stored in her fridge for a day or two. He had put out some food for himself but was only touching his coffee.

“You know I need to be prepared if the big thing is a party,” she asked him. “I don't have ball gowns in my glove compartment.”

He was feeling very confident, and her incorrect guess didn't faze him. “We'll just be doing holiday things. You can show up in your pajamas if you like.”

Her nose wrinkled as she brought her cup to her mouth and found it empty. “You don't like holiday things.”

Lex folded his newspaper and helped her pack the food. Chloe stood up and sent crumbs flying down into the stiff dorm carpeting.

“I liked holidays once, and a lot of that was ruined for me. I think it's worth trying again. Your family seems to survive celebrating,” he said.

She rolled her eyes.

“Our eggnog is so full of rum it should be renamed rum punch. We get through holidays alive; don't think there aren't emotional scars. And fat, so much extra belly by the time we're finished eating.”

He knew the only answer to that muttered comment, and Lex even meant it. He had never seen Chloe looking less than wonderful since they'd started dating. “I've never noticed any fat on you,” he said.

She stroked down his cheeks and pecked his mouth. “Cataracts so early, too bad. At least I can eat all I want apparently,” she said. “You have to get out so I can get ready. Thank you for breakfast. I'll see you at Christmas and you'll hear from me before then.”

She shoved him out her door with his coat in his hands, and from her footsteps away he knew she went back for her notes. She would do fine but Chloe insisted on giving her full attention to her work. He was happy to get out of her way so she could.

Lex pulled on his coat and left with a swagger. He would be a good husband and Chloe was a fair, loving person who gave him as much praise as she could justify. She would write exams; he would shovel dirt and decorate a tree. They would meet on Christmas morning and never be apart again.

NS Advent Calendar 2007 - Gifts of Meaning - Complete