Disclaimer: I do not own the show or characters and make no money writing them.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: General up to season 7, perhaps.
A/N: Prompted on a livejournal ficathon for doomed ships. Link to those who want it, but I'm not sure I can post it here without getting some bitchstick for an early Christmas present.
Original Prompt by Lynzie914:
Smallville, Chloe/Lex,
My body is a cage
We take what we're given
Just because you've forgotten
That don't mean you're forgiven
Chloe was never sure why she had taken such intense action at Lex Luthor's mocking salute with his champagne flute. She was attending a gala with Clark, while he reported and she mingled listlessly. It should have been her assignment, but she tried to ignore thoughts like that. Reporting had been sullied and then stolen from her - she couldn't slip back into it like the dream it had been.
But if she was awake, it was Lex who had slapped her into consciousness.
She knew she didn't look horribly out of place in her high-quality off-the-rack dress and insanely high heels. She knew she'd learned to dress boldly in the right way and could turn heads. She was confident and assured, quick with her charm and her jibes. She could handle anything he threw at her. So when he tipped his drink at her with a quirked eyebrow, she started walking quickly toward him.
She was going to confront him for his crimes; she didn't know which of them, and it was certainly important that she narrow it down some. She was going to expose him to all the rejection he deserved, all the rack and ruin he visited on others would come back on Lex with her single cutting pronouncement of his guilt.
Except when she was nose to nose with him, he put his hand on her lower back and she sucked on his lip instead. Rationally, she could claim she was just screwing with his head. She could be distracting him for Clark to make his move.
Lex's tongue pushed smoothly into her mouth. She heated up with a fever of conscience and lust, but lust won. He stepped forward and put one leg between her thighs, brushing tight to her body and skimming her tasteful dress to her front in a show for all the lechers watching. She had moaned, aloud, and the hand low on her back slipped down to her ass.
Lex had chosen her with that seemingly shallow gesture. He had made her his new mission in life. Chloe did her best to take back the invitation. She set out to make herself his enemy again; her old, arguably safer position in his life.
She lost spectacularly, falling for him and on him. She lost Clark, she lost her purpose, and she found it again.
Chloe Sullivan-Luthor didn't know what to say about her masterful seduction of Metropolis' most infamous serial marrier; it seemed too cheap to call it something as simple as fate.
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Originally Posted by kitten
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