CATEGORY: ROMANCE
DISCLAIMER: Nothing except this plot is mine. And according to my teachers, there is no original plot in the world, so even that is doubtful
i. Cold Grey Night
The blonde woman was unused to the freezing temperature. She huddled lower under her thick coat, shivering against the biting air of the dark city. She hurried down the street, desperately seeking for a warm stopover before continuing on her pointless wandering.
Chloe Sullivan lit up at the sight of a blinking sign that was so old that it flickered sporadically, hung dangerously at one end, and now only read C FF EHOU E. Despite the dubious appearance of the shop, Chloe needed her fix too badly to care. She hurried over to the establishment and looked down at the door handle. Grimy. She cringed. She would not have been the reporter that she had become if she would let possibly fatal germs bring her down though. She closed her gloved hand over it, mentally swearing to throw out the gloves before even stepping back into her newly leased very ancient apartment.
When she entered the shop, all eyes turned to her. She felt each of the customers look her over, weigh her really, without even turning their heads. It made her feel so uncomfortable, the way they measured her from the corners of their eyes, as though she were not even worthy enough of a full on appraisal. The coldness that made her shiver now had nothing to do with the weather, although it was even colder in here than it was out there if it were possible.
She briskly made her way to the counter, both to get out of their sight as soon as possible and to get the blood circulating in her legs. She was about to rest her arms on the counter when she remembered to inspect it first. Upon inspection, she decided to let her heavy arms rest by her sides.
“A cup of coffee to go,” she told the sleepy-eyed attendant. “Could you hurry?”
‘Martha,’ her name tag stated (ironic to find someone across the country as far from Mrs Kent as one could get) looked at her with no trace that she had registered Chloe’s order until a minute of two later, she pointed to a list on the unsanitary counter. “Pick your poison,” she said monotonously.
Chloe grimaced at the words. She probably would be buying poison if she continued here. “Never mind,” she muttered, and hurried out the door.
“Stupid bitch prolly just wanted to get out of the cold,” ‘Martha’ said from the counter.
Chloe rolled her eyes but did not bother to correct the woman on her assumption. One thing she had learned after two years living with a man she adored beyond anyone else in the world—you had to choose only those worthy enough to fight your battles with. It was no use expending your strength on someone you would never encounter again. She mentally thanked his memory.
Once outside the shop, Chloe leaned against the wall, not caring that it had probably been pissed on by dozens of men over the course of the day. As always whenever his face fleeted through her mind, her knees weakened and it was all she could do to stay on her feet. She blinked away the tears that threatened to fall.
She did not want to do this. Really. She tried to keep herself from doing this whenever the urge hit her. But now, in this dark, strange city that was so ugly and smelly that her head ached just being there, freezing under the falling snow, Chloe needed to do it. She looked around her to make sure that nobody was around. The bag under her coat contained her entire life. To lose it would push her over the edge. It was not so much as the money it contained. The bag held treasures that were beyond price, and departing Kansas to leave the past behind, she could never leave them—four cards: two for birthdays and another two for Christmas, all containing messages in his beautiful script; the half-inch thick sheaf of photographs taken of them over the months by their friends; one of his hundred white handkerchiefs, special because it was the one stained dark brown from the last time she held him; and a ring, the only one of those treasures that would probably be worth something to thieves.
Chloe took the blue and white envelope and pulled out the picture on top of the others. A tear rolled down her eye. She was laughing there, under the sun. She could still remember how warmth felt like if she closed her eyes and thought hard enough. She hadn’t been warm for so long. From the moment she left, she had sought places that would be as far from the flowers and meadows of Smallville where they met, and the steel and high glass windows of Metropolis where they had fallen in love. Gotham City, with its cold grey slabs of stone and perpetual nighttime was as perfect as anywhere else she had been.
She shook her head to clear her thoughts and hastily wiped her eyes, vaguely remembering how dirty her gloves probably were now. It served its purpose though, and she was able to see the photo again through drier eyes. He was grinning at her, even though she was looking the other way. She saw all the love in his eyes reflected there.
A movement from the alley caught her attention. She slipped the picture and the envelope back in her bag. Chloe hurried away from the shop and found herself at the beginning of what appeared to be the main street of the city. It was still dreary, but it seemed less dangerous than the part that she had previously been in.
She breathed in deep and felt her nostrils run numb. She liked the feeling of the almost pain that she was in, with her shoes too Kansas to use in the snow, and her coat too thin to keep away the frostbite. Chloe felt for her bag and then proceeded to walk through the empty streets of Gotham.
ii. Finding Warmth
She had not reached very far when the snowflakes that had earlier been teasing her cheeks began to feel heavy on her shoulders. Chloe glanced up at the sky and saw the countless white spots falling heavier. Knowing that she would not make it back to her apartment or to one of Gotham’s notoriously inept transportation system, she decided to slip into the first building that she saw.
Chloe stood at the lobby brushing off the snow from her Kansas coat. The building was heated. She sighed in pleasure. A while later she noticed that a pool of murky liquid had formed around her boots, likely from the ice that encrusted her feet.
Having lived in Smallville for most of her teenage years, she was aware of a pair of eyes watching her the entire time. She looked towards the direction of the gaze and found the guard’s regard. Chloe nodded briskly to the man, who was only doing his job. She did not appear to be a dangerous character really. She probably looked like a wet chick. Chloe walked towards the elevators to get out of the lobby and appear as though she really had business in there.
The ding of the elevator was a welcome respite from the guard’s watchful eye. Chloe stepped into the furbished steel and mahogany and noted for the first time how luxurious her surroundings were. It was a first for her in this city. It hit her that it was sinful to live and work in so much wealth while the rest of the city was so desperate.
The ride provided her with the silence and privacy to think. She leaned her head back against the mahogany lining of the elevator and closed her eyes. She felt the elevator stop and a person get in. Chloe figured she could just ride up ad down until she was warm and rested enough to walk back to her apartment.
And then she felt it again. Just the way it felt down at the lobby. Chloe opened her eyes to find a pair of blue eyes looking directly at her. It must be the city. She had not gone to any place where she had not been mauled by stares. “Do you have a problem?” she asked the man directly.
Wide shoulders shrugged, bringing her attention to the good build underneath the expensive suit. She swallowed hard at that, remembering another man in another expensive suit—another pair of shoulders and firm muscles that she had every right to touch. “I was wondering if I can help you,” he stated in a deep voice. “I go home this late and there’s usually no one else but security in the building.”
A blush stained her cheeks at his words. Chloe grimaced in combined shame and apology. “I’m sorry I was so rude. The city is getting to me.”
The man in front of her nodded. “So was there a particular reason that you’re in the building?”
Chloe gave him a shy smile and shook her head. “I was only escaping from the snow. This was the first building I entered that didn’t appear to be a safety hazard.”
The blue eyes raked down her clothes and shoes. “Caught unprepared then. Odd since it’s been like this for the past month. You’re not from around here then?”
“No actually. Tornadoes I can take, but not snow like this. I’m from Kansas.”
The dark-haired man’s lips curved to a degree that she deemed enough to be called a smile. “Welcome to Gotham City, Dorothy.”
Chloe smiled back in return. “Chloe.”
“Let me buy you coffee. The lounge at the building annex is kept open at all hours.” Chloe hesitated at the invitation. “My driver informs me that the snow has not let up yet. He won’t be picking me up for a while yet. We’ll drive you home.”
“Well then thank you—“
“Bruce.”
Chloe’s eyes went wide. “Bruce Wayne?”
“I see my reputation precedes me. Believe me, they are more talk than truth.”
She shook her head. Of all the buildings to walk into, she had to walk into his. “Your exploits are legendary, Mr Wayne.”
“Bruce please. We’re both stranded anyway. That should bring us closer.”
“Models, daughters of business acquaintances, even psychiatrists. The only constant about your social life is that you’ll turn up with a different woman hanging from your arm with every event.”
He looked at her as they walked through the covered walkway leading to the other building, impressed. “I never seem to find one that I can have a good conversation with.”
“Maybe you should try talking to them first before asking them out on a date.”
Bruce chuckled. Chloe smiled when he held the door open for her. In high school she always had to do it herself. Two years living with… It had spoiled her in little courtesies that made her feel like a woman. When they reached a table, Bruce Wayne pulled a chair for her first. Training in expensive schools would necessarily give him the same habits.
If you were the owner of a conglomerate as expansive as Wayne Enterprises, you will receive your order in the blink of an eye. This was service that she had gotten used to in Metropolis and never thought she would experience again. A steaming cup of coffee in front of each of them and Chloe noticed that she had tuned out his voice.
“I’m sorry. What were you saying?”
Bruce merely grinned at her. “The smell of coffee takes you someplace beyond earth too?” Chloe nodded eagerly. “What brings you to Gotham?” he repeated.
She blinked rapidly, lost for words. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Sensitive topic then.”
“You could say that. Is that okay?”
“We all have our secrets,” he told her. “You’re entitled to yours.”
She asked him if it was always so cold in Gotham City. Bruce admitted that it often was.
“You get used to it,” he assured her. “It will take time before you find the warmth in this cold but eventually it will happen.”
Chloe didn’t want to remember warmth anymore. Warm was a morning in Smallville, waiting for the bus to take her home. Warm was her father’s embrace on her graduation day. Warm was Mrs Kent’s smile when she waved her into her kitchen.
Warm was Lex’s blood spilling onto her hand while she held a pathetic linen handkerchief over his wound the last day she kissed his lips.
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