Title: Both Sides Now
Author: RenaissanceQueen
Genre: Romance/AU
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one. Do you think that If Lex Luthor was mine; I'd be writing about him/ sharing? Nuh-uh.
How the hell did I ever end up 18 years old, living in Smallville, Kansas? In love with my father's boss and my best friend's enemy? Ah, yes. I remember the fateful day well. I was thirteen and we were living in Metropolis. My mother had run out on us, so it was just me.
I trudged slowly up the steep hill and thought guiltily of the hour and a half of class I had cut that day. I hadn’t done my math homework and my teacher always made me feel like such a heel when I forgot. It wasn’t totally my fault, as my father had had a dinner party the night before. And guess who was not only a participant but in charge of cleaning up and preparing? If you guessed me, you’re quite correct.
The construction next to the road meant that it was covered in muddy gravel. Couple that with the dirty residue of winter snow accumulation and you just about have a picture of how much fun it was to walk the mile and a half home on that blustery February morning. A lone leaf stood in my way and I crunched it, wanting to somehow put it out of its misery. I always feel so sorry for those leaves that are left on the ground when all of their peers have gone on to a better place.
Before I alienate you by sounding like an environmental freak or just emotionally unstable or whatever, I need to clarify. I just have sympathy for those creatures less fortunate than us. It doesn’t stop me from eating red meat or cutting grass, but I do feel sorry for your occasional leaf. So sue me! Not really. You can sue for some pretty strange things in America, but I doubt you’d get more than the minimal $3.00 if you did sue me. But that’s beside the point.
So there I was, walking home, feeling sorry for myself, and wishing that MAYBE, just maybe, I could one day move to a warmer climate. Australia, maybe. I mean, LuthorCorp had branches all over the world.
When my dad came home that evening and told me that we were moving to SMALLVILLE of all places, you could have knocked me over with an electron (they’re much lighter than feathers, you see.) I mean, it was like then end of the world.
I knew I was going to hate it. The girls were going to be complete bitches and the boys perverts. The teachers would expect the students to be mindless clones whose greatest ambitions were to work at the LuthorCorp plant. Everyone was going to hate me and I wasn't going to make any friends.
I’ve always been one of those people that you really have to get to know well. That’s why I was so comfortable in the situation I was in. Everyone had known everyone since before kindergarten, so the rules were pretty much known and adhered to.
But this new school . . . it was dangerous territory. If the groups were as firmly set as at my current school, I was sunk. The only hope I clung onto was that my father would relent and let me go to boarding school, specifically one that specialized in the arts. Most of my friends were artists, and I consider myself one. I mean, writers are artists, right. It was my only hope! Or else I could kiss my dreams of being an investigative reporter for any paper other than the Smallville Gazette (or whatever their local newspaper was called) goodbye.
Someone once asked me what I would consider hell, expecting, I presume, a usual answer, such as denying the existence of such a place or describing it as a fiery chasm. I instead answered as best I knew how, having a room full of computer paper but no computer or other writing implement. And that would be pure hell.
Anyway, I dutifully went to Smallville with my father. I made two close friends, Pete Ross and Clark Kent, but they never really understood me. The only thing that kept me alive for those long years was the discovery of the strange things that happened in Smallville. I had the perfect theory, but no one ever listened to me. It made such sense, too! I guess the fact that no one was interested in what consumed all of my time was the reason why when he came, I fell hard for him the first time I saw him.
I've always looked somewhat like everyone else, from the outside. Same general type of clothes and whatnot. I mean, I'm no Lana Lang, but I'd say I'm relatively pretty. The first thing that interested me about him was the fact that this 21 year old man was totally hairless. Of course, I had heard of Lex Luthor and seen many pictures of the Luthor heir, but to see him in person was something else entirely.
Everything about Lex screamed "DIFFERENT!" from his swoopy cars to the way he carried himself. Most men in Smallville only rid themselves of flannel on their wedding days (and sometimes not even then), but Lex is always exquisitely attired. And he wouldn't be caught dead wearing flannel.
His different-ness was what made him so attractive, initially. He reminded me of what I'd left behind, the fast paced city life that I still yearned for. He cared about more than the latest gossip or whether the Smallville Crows had won or lost their last game. In fact, he was even interested in my meteor rock theories. Because, it turned out, he had been in Smallville on the day of the meteor shower, when all the weird things started to happen. It had changed his life.
Clark saved Lex's life. Apparently, he dove off a bridge when he saw Lex's car go over it. So Lex owed Clark one, and they became friends of a sort. That's how Lex and I got thrown together a lot. We always banter with each other. He calls it verbal Judo, but I call it heaven. Matching wits with an intelligent and beautiful (yes, beautiful) man always manages to make my day. Sometimes it even makes my week. And I don't think he’s ever noticed. I'm just Chloe. I'll always just be Chloe.
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My father exiled me to Smallville after a particularly spectacular "youthful indiscretion." Since no one besides those immediately concerned know anything about it, I won't tell you what happened. All I know is that one day, I was part of the jet setting crowd. I could go anywhere and do anything. Nothing had consequences.
I was in Smallville for practically five minutes when I had an experience I'd never truly experienced before. I died. Well, I should have, anyway. But somehow I lived. It was a miracle. A miracle named Clark Kent.
Sometimes I wish I had died on that day. My father would call that weakness, but to Lionel Luthor, humanity is weakness. For a while, I had a theory that my father wasn't really human, but humanoid. A next-gen robot, perhaps. Or an alien. But no, it turns out that my father is very human. It's my best friend who's an alien. He's not just any old alien, either. He's the alien who ruined my life and made me a freak and an outcast. It almost seems as if my father paid for the demolition of Krypton, or whatever the fuck his planet is called, jut to make his plans of my deterioration complete.
But strangely enough, it wasn't finding out that my best friend is from another planet that has me rambling like this. It was quite a different occurrence altogether.
About half an hour ago, Chloe Sullivan walked into my library, told me that she'd been in love with me for three years and that she was moving to Gotham tomorrow. And then she just left, without giving me a chance to reply.
To say that I'm shell-shocked is an understatement. I've always felt that Chloe is a kindred spirit. Someone who can, up to a point, understand me. I've never met anyone like that. More than Clark or anyone in Smallville, Chloe has never deserted me. She's bright and bubbly, but not vapid, like Lana. She has good judgment and bad judgment, but always manages to make everything okay.
Fine. All right, already! I'm in love with Chloe Sullivan. And she's moving to Gotham. But then again, I already knew that. I'll get over it. Love is weakness that I can ill afford.
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“So, what happened? I mean, why did you decide to marry Chloe now? After eight years?” Lois Lane leaned in towards Lex, interestedly.
Chloe smiled, and squeezed her brand-new husband’s hand as they sat in the limo, on the way to their wedding reception. “We saw each other again when I had to interview him for an article in the Gotham Times. I still think that it was Bruce, matchmaking.”
Reaching into Lois’ pocket and pushing the stop button on her hidden tape recorder, Lex smirked at his new cousin-in-law. “Always the reporter, eh Lois? Good thing I know how to deal with those.”
A snort came from Chloe’s vicinity. “Well, if you deal with her reporting tendencies the way you deal with mine, you’re going to end up divorced, Mr. Luthor.”
“Is that so, Mrs. Luthor?” Lois concealed a grin behind her hand. And they were off. What a handful their children would be…
And they lived (for the most part) happily ever after.
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Nice work. Well-written and with just the right amount of detail. I like it. Write more soon!
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