Author: Eurydicesfalling
Rating: NC-17 (fer sure. Sexual situations Ahoy!
Spoilers: AU version of the Delete episode
Disclaimer: Smallville and its characters there in are not mine. If they were the show would be on Showtime instead of the WB for Chlexy monkey sex. I am gaining no profit for this work of smut, so please don’t sue. Plus I’m just plain broke.
Feedback: Sure why not? Love it, hate it, it’s all good. Just let me know.
Summary: Just a little PWP about what could have happened during Delete when Chloe is at the mansion.
Author’s Note: I’m supposed to be studying for my Tax midterm on capital assets and real estate. Instead this wouldn’t leave me be until I started writing at 2 in the morning. I’ve only given it a cursory beta, but let me know if I missed something major. Oh and the whole thing where Lex says her name... I know I read something similar in a fic eons ago. If anyone recognizes the reference let me know. I'm a lotta things, but a thief isn't one of them.
Deleted Scenes
Make yourself at home.
Chloe decided to do exactly that.
Deranged psycho e-mail stalker bitch or not, Chloe Sullivan’s reporter's instinct would not allow her to give up the chance at Luthor mansion snoopage.
Before he left for Metropolis, Lex stopped by the suite she had been led to earlier.
He told Chloe the tech guys had found her and she spoke without thinking.
Sorry I’m sending you out to deal with another psycho brunette murderess. I mean…
His mouth had quirked at her nonplussed look.
Don’t worry about it Chloe. At least this one isn’t after my fortune or me for that matter. Although, I’m sure given enough time…
Now it was her turn to shift her malleable lips into a reluctant grin
That’s a rather arrogant assumption Lex. Maybe you’re not her type.
And maybe Chloe, she’s not mine. I find myself developing a heightened immunity to mercenary brunettes.
Well what will you do for company now?
I’ve heard a rumor that blondes are more fun anyway.
The blonde Ms. Sullivan cursed her Irish ancestors for the umpteenth time in her life as color heated her cheeks.
With an eyebrow quirk as his only acknowledgment of her discomfort, Lex switched the topic to the other reason why he had stopped by to see her.
He pressed a silver key into her palm and told her it was for her suite of rooms in case she wanted the extra security blanket. She had chafed under the implication that she was a weepy Blana doll afraid of her own shadow - judo chop not included.
Her cheeks warmed at the remembrance of Lex pinning her with his gaze and telling her there was no shame in respecting what goes bump in the night.
He had reached out with manicured hands and wrapped her fingers securely around the key. The touch warmed her clammy fingers as he continued to hold his penetrating stare. Her cheeks had flared to a ridiculous Irish red at his next comment.
I have no respect for any woman stupid enough to think being adept in the arts of self-defense is the same as being well versed in the art of self-preservation. I appreciate a woman who values herself and her strengths enough to protect them at all costs Chloe.
His lips shaping around her name was unlike anything she had ever seen before. The Ch brushing against his full bottom lip, showing the barest hint of pink tongue on the l, pursing on the exhalation of the o and stretching to shift his scar intriguingly with the guttural e was the most sensual thing she had ever seen in her life.
Lex left the room after that, completely oblivious to the sexual stupor he had left the young reporter in.
Eventually she went to the door and closed it after the billionaire. A heartbeat later she opened it back again and locked the door with her key. She felt a bit foolish, but safer for it none the less.
It took less than an hour for her to unpack the duffel she had hurriedly stuffed with thirteen pairs of underwear, two bras, seven shirts, a skirt that was too short for this weather, two pairs of jeans (one of which fit poorly) and five feet of socks.
She couldn’t help but scrunch her nose when she pulled out the shortie nightie her cousin had purchased in a Metropolis novelty shop as a gag gift. It was at best indecent. Her head had clearly not been in the altogether when she packed.
She opted to err on the side of caution and avoid people that might be programmed to kill her. So she ate her meal in the sanctity of her suite and was absolutely stir crazy by the time hour number three rolled around.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And so now here she was.
Snooping.
Chances were high no good could come of this venture. She was bound to fall out of a window, find the Luthor equivalent of Area 51 and get beaned by a captive alien or worst case scenario get caught by her host.
Chloe shrugged philosophically. In truth, the worst case scenario was that someone would come tearing through the manor under hypnotic suggestion to kill her ass (probably without any regard for keeping her pretty face in tact). If these were to be her last moments on earth she would die being a reporter she determined.
So she tried every door in her hallway and found them all locked. Then she tried another passageway and found the same to be true. After about the fifth hallway she was ready to resign herself to some soft core Cinemax porn or a digital cable replay of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition when the lock on the door she stood in front of triggered something in her mind.
Lex was thorough, but maybe not as thorough as they both seemed to believe. Chloe leaned down to be eye level with the keyhole. Then she looked at the keyhole of the door on both adjacent sides. It was a crazy hunch, but she was almost certain that her suite door was the same type of lock. Her room key was burning a hole in her jeans’ fifth pocket. Digging two fingers into the confinement of denim she triumphantly pulled out the key. All of a sudden the lack luster silver metal looked extraordinary.
With a deep breath and a prayer to the patron saint of intrepid reporters coral tipped fingers inserted the key into the door in front of her and slowly turned the mechanism.
Well fuck a duck it worked.
Barely able to check her mounting glee, Chloe’s body quivered as she tried another door and another and another. Unwilling to look her gift horse in the mouth, Chloe began to rifle.
Sure it struck her as odd that Lex would be so remiss as to have all the doors in the house able to open with one key, but even boy geniuses missed the fine print from time to time she figured.
Most of the rooms didn’t even merit a glance. They were showpieces and guest suites. She found three studies, one library and what she guessed was Lionel’s suite of rooms to rifle through. She still turned up naught more than dust bunnies, but this was too much fun to stop now.
Eventually she came to a suite of rooms that - based on the purple accents - lead her to believe it belonged to Lex Luthor himself. She spent a good hour perusing Lex’s suite and found nothing more incriminating than a questionable leopard print thong in his underwear drawer.
Several more hours went by as she systematically opened every door with her magic key. From time to time she had to duck the occasional maid going about her duties or security suit doing rounds, but all in all her search went smoothly until she came to the one door her key did not work in.
Her spidey sense was tingling off the charts that something major was behind the door. She tried her key again and again, jiggling it every way but loose. When that didn’t work she attempted to pick the lock, but a bobby pin and a lifetime’s worth of McGuyver reruns just wouldn’t cut it this time.
Figuring she had a good run of luck Chloe pocketed the location of the door in a corner of her mind for later use.
It was time for all little pixie haired blondes with bounties on their head to be in bed anyway.
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