A Fractured Fairy Tale (R)

[asharnanae]

HOW COULD YOU END IT THERE!!!!!

fantastic chappy byt he way, and I have just loved this story all the way through!

[fussy_wuzzy]

What the hell . . .?

My sentiment exactly. I looooved this story, but you just can't end it here.

[Kit Merlot]

Fabulous ending but of course we will need a sequel!

So we can know exactly what the hell happened with Lex and Chloe's three charms.

But again, this story seriously rocked

[Augustine86]

Ah! So that's what your message meant! Translation: Beg vociferously for a sequel. Okay! Sequel! Sequel! Sequel! I want the continuation of this lovely fic...oh yes I do. With all my little fanfic fiendish heart!

Lark

Again Lark, very well spoken. Consider my shouts for a sequel as loud as yours. But, thoughs to more aside, it was a wonderful fanfic. Thank you very much for taking your time and writing this.

Oh and if you hear a little voice at night whispering: Sequel into you ear, that's not me. I'm the other voice, the one that shouts so loud that you jump right out of your bed.

[leik2]

You're not leaving it like this right? Your mind is twisting a continuation right?


Loved it.

[chril1]

umm darlin i think you accidentally put end when you meant to say, next chapter up tomorrow.

you really ought to remedy that

loved the update

lea
xxx

[Louie]

So now you either need to tell me when the sequel or a very long epilogue will be out. Cause that was just not fair.

[hfce]

You are one mean cruel person. I loved the update but the end. NOOOOOOOO!!!


Hope

[meg20]

No way you could be so cruel and end this fic so soon and with a cliff hanger! We need an epilogue and sequel PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE!!!

[Not An Addict]

A/N: Right. So . . . here's the deal. When I first wrote this, I really intended it to end with Chapter Seven. I really liked that as the ending, but it was very kindly pointed out to me during the beta process that if I left it like that, I'd be . . . well, lynched. I don't wanna be lynched. So if you guys had been as satisfied with that ending as I was, I would've left it there.

*looks around at torches being lit* So, um . . . I'll just put up this next chapter, shall I? And hey, you're getting it the very next day! That's gotta be worth a little mercy, right? Uh . . . right? *throws chapter to distract the mob*

*runs*





Chapter Eight: Oops, Did I Forget to Mention?




Another beautiful winter day in Smallville; over a foot of snow, temperatures below zero, and still they don’t cancel school. Fascists.

With a concentrated effort, Chloe managed to tone down her irritation, though doing so had been getting harder and harder over the past few weeks. Her temper had been shaky at best ever since she had woken up from her dream and found herself back in Smallville.

Except that it hadn’t been a dream or a hallucination, at least not entirely, as the charm bracelet she continued to wear constantly reminded her. And it was that reminder that kept her from going completely insane whenever she ran into Lex.

God, Lex. Just the thought of him was enough to have her stomach twisting into knots, and once again she cursed the moment she had slipped the stupid bracelet onto her wrist. If she hadn’t done that then she never would have wound up in that damn fairy tale in the first place. And if she hadn’t been there she wouldn’t have to live with the memory of just how good it felt to be in Lex’s arms, wouldn’t feel so damn needy every time she saw him. That was the worst of it, really. To see him and be able to remember just how his lips felt on hers, how his arms felt around her, all the while knowing that he didn’t remember a single thing.

Because none of it was real, she reminded herself harshly. At least, none of the parts with Lex were. It wasn’t really Lex that she remembered, either, just as it wasn’t Clark or Mrs. Kent or the myriad of other people she had come into contact with. It was her subconscious’ representation of them. So really, there was no reason to get so worked up every time she saw Lex, because after all, it wasn’t even him that she had fallen in love with . . . right?

“Miss Sullivan, I know it’s a lot to ask, but perhaps you could try to pay attention when I’m speaking, hmm?”

“Sorry, Mr. Robinson.” With her previous conclusion running through her head like a mantra, Chloe returned her attention to the finer nuances of the Civil War. Only the rest of the day to get through before the weekend. Then came midterms and after that, finally, winter break. This was no time to get distracted.


****************************


Lex was distracted. He couldn’t afford to be, not right now, but that didn’t change the simple fact that he was. His mind should, by all rights, be on the contract sitting in front of him. His father and Luthor Corp were nipping at his heels again, and if he lost this account they’d do more than just nip. They’d take a big, vicious bite, one that he might not be able to recover from. All of his attention should be on the tricky business of getting Mr. MacNamara of Orion International the best deal possible, better than Lionel or anyone else could offer. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like his mind was going to be obeying him anytime soon.

In point of fact, his mind had been stubbornly fixed on one of the few things he had no business thinking about. Ever. But no matter how many times he told himself to forget and ignore the subject of Chloe Sullivan, she kept showing up in his thoughts. And matters were hindered rather than helped by the fact that she seemed to be avoiding him.

At first he had dismissed the thought as ridiculous. After all, what possible reason could she have for avoiding him? Then, when it became clear that he hadn’t been mistaken, he had examined his actions lately. Had he done something to offend her? But no, Chloe Sullivan would be much more likely to verbally harpoon him if he had been so unlucky as to upset her sensibilities. She wasn’t the type to avoid confrontation, not by a long shot. Unfortunately, that meant that unless she had suddenly developed the ability to read his mind and been frightened away by his thoughts of her, she was avoiding him for some reason that he was helpless to discover.

When his mind wasn’t wrapped around that particular dilemma, he was occupied by the singular mystery of the strange necklace he had found. None of his staff had claimed it, and the charms dangling from the long golden chain certainly wasn’t anything that Lionel would be caught dead in. Which left Lex with the dual problems of wondering who had been in his house to drop it, and wondering why it seemed so naggingly familiar.

That familiarity haunted him, tickling at the back of his mind. Without fully realizing it he had taken to wearing the thing hidden beneath his shirt. When he found himself unconsciously rubbing the outline of the charms through his clothes he had all but ripped the chain from around his neck, only to refasten it minutes later. For whatever reason, he simply wasn’t comfortable without the thing on.

Lex sighed heavily and pushed back from his desk. This proposal was going nowhere, and the more he stared at it the less he was able to focus. The castle suddenly felt stifling, like it was slowly trying to suffocate him. Without a second thought he stood and strode from the room. What he needed was a change of scenery. He would go for a drive to clear his head, then get back to work. And there would be no more thoughts of Chloe Sullivan, mysterious necklaces, or the phantom memories that were dancing on the edges of his mind.


****************************


“—so then she just looked at me like I had burned down her children or something and walked off.”

Chloe tried her best to suppress a snicker as Pete finished regaling them with the sad story of asking out Kelly Huffines that afternoon. Her urge to laugh wasn’t helped by Clark’s expression; the look of confusion on his face was more intense than normal.

“Burned down her children?”

Pete shook his head. “You don’t get online much, do you Clark?”

“I get online plenty,” was the defensive reply. “I might not live on the computer like some people, but—”

“Relax, Clark.” Chloe rolled her eyes and stood up. “I’m going to get some more coffee. I’d offer to get you some, but if you’re this high-strung I think I’m going to have to cut you off,” she teased.

“Hey Chlo,” Pete began hopefully.

“I’m on it.”

Chloe snagged the cup that Pete held out for her and made her way up to the counter. In the weeks leading up to winter break the Talon was always packed, and she had to wait in line for several long minutes before she managed to make it to the counter where Lana and one of the part-time girls were looking particularly harried.

“Hey Lana. Refill for me and Pete, and I need mine to go.”

“Chloe. Hey.” Lana started on the drinks while the other girl began to take the next person’s order. As she steamed the milk for Chloe’s latte, Lana shot her a frenzied look. “I don’t suppose there’s a chance of getting you to start sooner than next weekend, is there?”

It took some effort, but Chloe managed to swallow her chuckle. “Not unless there’s been an impromptu snowball fight in Hell. You know I’d help out, but with midterms and this last edition of the Torch, I’m completely swamped until break.”

“Fine, fine,” Lana grumbled. She pushed the finished drinks towards her friend. “Use me for my coffee, then abandon me.” She shot her a grin to let her know she didn’t really mean it. “See you at home later.”

“See you. Try not to explode before then.”

Tossing off a wave over her shoulder, Chloe made her way back to the table she had been sharing with Clark and Pete. With the two of them wrapped up in some argument over a pro sporting event, it was all too easy for her to slip away. She let out a breath as she did so; she had been deathly afraid that Clark was going to ask for help studying for English again, and she just didn’t have time for it. She was behind in things herself, and had been for the past few weeks. Her concentration had been shot ever since the incident, a situation that she was prepared to remedy, starting tonight.

She hadn’t made it far through the crowd when she heard a familiar voice say her name. Her stomach muscles were knotting up even before she looked up to see Margot standing in front of her. Still, Chloe offered the girl a weak smile and stopped.

Outside of the fairy tale setting, Margot’s looks had reverted back to their natural state. Her hair was solid brown again and falling straight as rain, without any of the curl and body that it had briefly possessed. The length was once more evident in her face; her eyes weren’t as sharp a green. Her previous grace had fled, replaced once more by a kind of coltish gangliness. Still, Chloe could see the potential underneath. No doubt about it—if Margot ever grew into herself, she would be a knockout.

“Hey Margot. Um . . . how’s it going?”

“Good. It’s going good.” She looked down at her feet for a moment, and when she looked up again it was to shoot Chloe a hopeful glance. “I was kind of hoping to talk to you for a minute?”

“Well . . . I was actually . . .” Chloe sighed. She simply couldn’t stand up against the hope on Margot’s face. “Sure. Just . . . follow me.”

The two of them wove their way through the noisy throng of people, squeezing in between the clumps people always seem to form in the middle of high-traffic areas. Finally they reached a small table, situated away from most others and miraculously still free of any of the socializing patrons. The girls seated themselves and Chloe waited while Margot stared into her cup of coffee. Finally unable to take the silence any longer, Chloe took the initiative.

“So you wanted to talk to me about something, right?”

Margot started as though she had forgotten where she was. “Oh! Yeah. Sorry. I did. I just . . .” She waved a hand as if trying to grab the words she wanted out of the air. “Well, I know how disorienting it can be to, um,” she looked around nervously and lowered her voice. “To go through that. The first time it happened to me, I was so scared. And I knew that I couldn’t tell anyone, so there was no one to talk to. I guess I just wanted you to know that, well,” she shrugged. “I’m here if you wanna talk about it.”

Chloe was quiet for a moment. The hell of it was, she was pretty sure that she did want to talk about what happened. She was all mixed up about it, about how she was feeling. Who better to talk to about it than the one other person who had been through the same thing—or at least, close to the same thing? Not only that, but whom better to answer her questions than Margot? She nodded slowly.

“I do want to talk about it. I—” She broke off, trying to gather her thoughts. “There’s so much that happened that I don’t understand. And a lot of it has me feeling . . .” She broke off again on a laugh. “I really don’t know where to start.”

“Okay. Well . . . I’ve never talked about it before either, so . . . um . . .” Margot looked at Chloe shyly. “There’s something I’ve been wondering, but I don’t know if it would be too personal or anything.”

“Hell, fire away.” Chloe grinned. “If it’s too personal, I’ll just say ‘no comment.’”

Margot giggled. “Okay. I was wondering . . . who was your Prince Charming?”

“Oh . . . er . . .” Chloe was appalled to find herself blushing. “It’s a little bit embarrassing. Tell you what. You tell me who yours was, and I’ll tell you who mine was.” She tilted her head in sudden curiosity. “Say, that’s a question. Do you get a different guy every time? Or do you have one particular leading man?”

“I . . . well, I . . .” Margot closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her pale skin was turning bright pink and she looked down into her coffee again as she mumbled a name.

“Who? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said, ‘It was Pete Ross.’” Margot’s cheeks were practically on fire now, and for a moment Chloe could do nothing but blink.

“Pete?” she finally squeaked, but the astonishment quickly cleared from her face when Margot’s embarrassed eyes came up to see her reaction. “That’s . . . wow. I never knew you had a thing for Pete.”

Margot shrugged. “I guess I do. But he has dates all the time with really pretty girls.” Her long fingers fiddled with her coffee cup. “He’s way out of my league.”

Even as Chloe snorted, she made a mental note to have a discreet and non-specific conversation with Pete. “You think Pete Ross is out of your league? Then believe me, you’re gonna feel a lot better when you hear who my guy was.”

“Who?” Without realizing it, Margot had leaned forward slightly. “Was it someone famous, like . . . like Brad Pitt or someone?”

Chloe laughed. “No, no one like that.” She took a deep breath and said, with as much nonchalance as she could muster, “It was Lex Luthor.”

“Lex Luthor?” Margot’s eyes were huge, and her mouth hung slightly open. She slumped back in her chair. “Woah. That’s huge. But I see why. He is really cute.”

“Yeah.” Chloe tried to keep the next question as casual as possible. “So, have you ever . . .”

“Me?? No way,” Margot said, shaking her head emphatically. “He scares me way too much.”

“He’s not so bad,” Chloe insisted. “I mean, he can be kind of intimidating sometimes. But his millions aside, he’s mostly just a pretty normal guy.”

“If you say so. Anyway, I’ll bet he looked pretty good as royalty.”

“He did.” Thinking back on everything that had happened, Chloe wasn’t aware that she was playing with the bracelet on her wrist until Margot frowned and nodded to it.

“What’s that?”

Now it was Chloe’s turn to frown. “What do you mean? It’s your bracelet.”

“No,” Margot said slowly, her high voice holding a hint of trepidation. “My bracelet was cheap tin and gold paint that I got for five dollars at the mall. That,” she pointed, “is not my bracelet.”

“Of course it is,” Chloe argued. “Look, you saw it when I was there. It changed. When I came home again, well, it just never changed back.” Chloe’s frown deepened. “I figured that was what always happened. Are you telling me it’s not?”

Margot shook her head, wide eyes still fastened on Chloe’s wrist. “They always change back. I mean, I’d have some fast explaining to do to my mom if a bunch of really nice stuff suddenly showed up in my room. Okay.” Her eyes lifted to Chloe’s again. “There’s gotta be a reason for this. Right? When a pattern changes, there’s always a reason.”

“Historically speaking,” Chloe agreed. Margot’s reaction was starting to make her nervous. “Do you think this means that something else is wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Margot said nervously. “Maybe it’s just because it was someone other than me in the story. But just to be safe, why don’t you tell me what all you did in the dream, and I’ll let you know if anything seems . . . I don’t know, suspicious.”

“Okay.” Chloe took a deep breath. “Okay. Well, after you left, my da—the king came in.” It still made Chloe’s stomach clench to think of that particular incident, and it helped a great deal to avoid thinking of that man as her father. “He told me about wanting to marry me, and he gave me the dresses and cloak; then he left.”

“What did you say to him? Anything that . . . I don’t know, didn’t fit with the story somehow?”

Chloe shook her head. “I was too freaked out to say much at all. Anyway, he left, and I grabbed the dresses and put on the cloak and got the hell out of the castle. No one saw me,” she said before Margot could ask. “The king and his . . . I don’t know, advisors or whatever were talking in a room along the way, but I made it past without being seen.

“I walked all night—and let me tell you, I’m a big fan of whatever part of your power kept me from getting frostbite—and I fell asleep in this big hollow tree. I woke up when a couple of guys were trying to tie me up; they thought I was some kind of animal. Then I started talking and they thought I was a demon. Once I managed to convince them that I wasn’t, they took me to Lex and got permission for me to work in the kitchens. They took me there, and I spent the next week waiting around for someone to mention the big festival that was being planned.”

Margot winced sympathetically. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve worked it out in most of the stories so that I don’t have to wait so long for the story to keep going, but I haven’t actually tried that one yet.”

“Well, it’s over now,” Chloe shrugged. “And once the festival was mentioned, I was pretty busy for the next few days. On the first day of the festival I convinced Martha—the cook—to let me go watch the carriages arrive. I cleaned up, changed into the gold dress, and went to the ball. I danced with Lex—”

“Oh, how was that?” Margot asked; then, seeing Chloe’s raised eyebrows, flushed and said, “Sorry. Go on.”

“Right. Where was I? Oh; I danced with Lex, cut out of there and hauled ass back to the kitchen. I changed back and made the soup—I accidentally added some stuff that I wasn’t supposed to, but I figured that wasn’t a big deal since no one complained about it.” At Margot’s nod, Chloe continued. “I dropped the charm into Lex’s bowl, and after a little while he called me up to talk with him. I convinced him I didn’t know where the charm came from, and he let me go.

“The next day I did the same thing: went to the ball, came back, left the charm, and convinced Lex that I had no idea what he was talking about. At midnight I met him in the garden—”

“Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Margot’s eyes had gone as wide as dinner plates. “What do you mean, you met him in the garden?”

“Just that,” Chloe said slowly. “He asked me to meet him in the garden at midnight, and I did.” Realization hit. “That wasn’t part of the story, was it.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. “Shit! I was afraid of that; but I didn’t want to not go in case I was wrong, and I was supposed to go. But I still made it back, so how much of a difference could that have really made? Um . . . Margot . . . why are you looking at me like that?”

“Chloe,” Margot said in a hushed voice, apprehension etched on her face. “I need you to tell me what happened in the garden.”

“Oh. Um . . . well, we . . . that is . . .” Chloe couldn’t fight the blush that rose on her cheeks. “We kind of . . . kissed. A few times.” Chloe wasn’t sure what she had expected Margot’s reaction to be, but it wasn’t the heartfelt groan that she heard.

“But it only happened that one time, right?” Margot asked with a hint of desperation. “I mean, you didn’t do it . . . again . . .” She trailed off, seeing all too clearly in Chloe’s expression that it had in fact happened again. “Okay. Okay. The important thing here is not to panic.”

“Margot?”

“After all, it might not mean anything. Maybe it is just because it was someone other than me.”

“Margot.”

“I mean, hell, I don’t know how it works. So maybe—”

“Margot!” Chloe finally got the girl’s attention. “What’s going on? What’s the big deal? I can’t have done anything too wrong, or I wouldn’t be here. So what are you freaking out about?”

Margot took a deep breath. “All right. So, you remember how I told you that the characters in the fairy tale were chosen by your subconscious? Well . . . um . . . that’s not exactly the whole story. See, it actually pulls in parts of their minds; in a way, they’re actually there. That’s another reason I never wanted Lex Luthor as my prince—his mind’s way too strong. I was always afraid that he’d be able to see through the illusion and figure out what was going on.”

“He said he knew me,” Chloe said, mostly to herself. She looked up at Margot again. “The first night of the ball, when we were out on the patio. He thought he knew me, but let it go when he realized that he couldn’t possibly, since I had just shown up. Are you telling me that may have been because he was trying to see through what was going on?”

“Maybe,” Margot nodded. “And now you’re back here with a bracelet that didn’t return to its normal state. Since the . . . er . . . aberration in the story was with Lex . . .”

“You’re afraid that your power’s hold on him is weakened,” Chloe finished. “But . . . it was really him in that story? I mean, at least part of him?”

“Yeah, which is another reason to be worried. If he figures out what happened, he’d probably be pissed about being drawn into all of that without his consent. And I do not want to have to deal with a pissed off Lex Luthor.” Suddenly she brightened. “But like you said, you’re still here. You made it back. Maybe you’re right; maybe departing from the story didn’t have as much of an effect as I assumed it would.”

“Wait a minute, assumed?” Chloe leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “You mean you don’t know that not going through with the story would keep you from getting out?”

“Well . . . no.” Margot fidgeted in her seat. “If I knew for sure that it did, I wouldn’t be here, now would I? I’d still be stuck in whatever story I decided to test the theory with.”

“All right, I see your point,” Chloe conceded. “But this still doesn’t solve the problem, Margot. Is Lex going to be able to figure out what happened?”

“Are you sure he hasn’t already?”

“Very sure. If he had, he’d already be making an unholy fuss over his subconscious being manipulated or something.”

“Okay.” Margot sat for a moment, staring at the large blue mug that she was slowly rotating on the table. Finally she looked up at Chloe again and said, “He wasn’t the main player in the story; since he never said anything to you about it, it’s a pretty safe bet that he never completely broke free and figured out that he wasn’t who he thought he was. As long as he doesn’t get the opportunity to talk with you about it, he should forget whatever he’s remembering in a week or two. And hey, maybe he doesn’t remember anything and we’re worrying over nothing.” An anxious frown creased her face. “But, um, maybe you should try to keep your distance from him for a while, just in case.”

“No problem; I’ve been doing that anyway,” Chloe muttered. “So I’ll keep steering clear of him, and hopefully he’ll just forget the whole—”

“Chloe?”

Chloe slowly turned her head, her stomach suddenly hollow. She had been so caught up in her conversation that she hadn’t even noticed Lex walking up to their table, and a quick glance at Margot’s pale face confirmed that the other girl hadn’t noticed, either. Chloe’s mouth was as dry as cotton; how much of their conversation had he heard?

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I was hoping I could talk to you for a moment.”





TBC . . .