Title: Gardenia
Author: Not An Addict
Rating: PG-13 for language
Category: Romance all the way
Spoilers: Pretty much anything that's aired so far is fair game, but I counted specific spoilers for Cool, Crush, Nocturne, and Dichotic.
Summary: A romantic gesture eventually leads to a happy beginning
Disclaimer: I own neither the characters, nor the show, nor the bits of poetic goodness strewn about the story. I do own Connor Maloney, and he will forever stand as a tribute to my roommate who will never ever read this story.
Author’s Note: Slightly AU, because Lex has to be good for this story. Oh, and if you get confused, Lex and Chloe are already friends when this story starts. It was just easier that way. I’m posting a chapter at a time, and I’m counting on you guys to let me know if you want me to continue, or if I should not post the other chapters. I hope you enjoy!
Chapter One: Secret Meanings
“Crap!”
Chloe’s coffee nearly spilled as she made a mad grab for the bag slipping off of her shoulder. The box of files in her arms started falling then, and after a quick scramble to grab it she stood stock still, making sure everything was balanced before she tried to move again. Her messenger bag hung from one shoulder, her laptop from another with her purse slung across her chest, and she was clutching a large box full of back files—research for her next article. All the while she was trying to hold on to the coffee that she had grabbed at the Talon before she came to school without spilling it all over herself.
“Why, why couldn’t you have just made two trips, Chloe?” she grumbled to herself. She always did this, and no matter how many times she ended up berating herself for it she never seemed to learn. She shot a glance towards the door to the Torch office. Only a few more feet. If she just walked very carefully, she would make it there fine. Taking a deep breath to steady herself she stepped forward, only to pause again before she had taken two steps. Her head tilted slightly to the side as she sniffed cautiously, a puzzled frown settling over her features.
“What the hell…?”
She sniffed again. Yes, there it was: floating above the common high school smells—the sweat, perfume and leftover food masked by the sharp smell of disinfectant floor cleaner—was the sweet scent of fresh flowers. Her curious mind mulling that over, she crossed the last few feet to the office and juggled her load around until she was able to open the door. The stronger smell didn’t even register as she concentrated on holding the door with a complex series of foot and hip maneuvers. Three steps into the room, however, her eyes finally lifted. What they saw froze her to the spot and she stood gaping, her eyes wide and her jaw hanging; she didn’t even notice the box slipping from her grasp until she jumped at the loud bang it made when it hit the floor.
“Shit!” Her coffee had sloshed through the to-go lid when she jumped and now it was dripping from her hand onto the floor. Grabbing a Kleenex from the shelves by the door Chloe absentmindedly wiped at her skin as she surveyed the room, finally aware now of where the smell of flowers was coming from.
The entire room was filled with clusters of gardenias. Vases and bowls loaded almost to overflowing, as well as paper-wrapped bouquets, crowded every available surface. Everywhere she looked she was met with their full white flowers and glossy leaves, and their fresh scent saturated the air in every breath she took.
Chloe stepped farther into the office, letting her bags drop unheeded from her shoulders. Her fingers ran over the soft petals without conscious thought. The shock finally got the better of her and she sat down in her desk chair, unable to do much more than look around in amazement.
“Jeez, Chlo, are you trying to kill some...?” Clark trailed off as he steadied himself after almost tripping over the box when he came in, his gaze taking in the display. Chloe looked up at him with a dazed expression that Clark couldn’t help but find funny.
“Hey Clark.” She moved her arms in broad sweeps, gesturing vaguely around her. “Look what I found.”
Clark was still trying to smother his laughter when Lana walked in with a colorful disk held out in front of her.
“Chloe, I have my arti—” In what was quickly becoming the theme of the morning, she stopped mid-sentence and stared around the room, her mouth hanging open. The sight brought Chloe out of her trance and the corners of her mouth turned up when she caught Lana’s eye.
“What’s the matter, Lana? Haven’t you ever seen a high school newspaper office full of flowers before?”
Pulling her mouth into a mischievous grin, Lana responded, “Oh sure, but I thought roses were usually the flower of choice.”
“Yeah, that is weird,” Chloe agreed. “Don’t get me wrong, I like gardenias, but it’s not like I’ve ever considered them my favorite flower or anything.”
“Are you sure they’re for you?” Clark chimed in.
Seeing the look that settled over Chloe’s face, Lana whacked Clark’s stomach with the back of her hand.
“Clark!” she hissed. He looked confused for a moment before he saw Chloe’s fallen face and rushed to stutter out a correction.
“I didn’t mean…I just…y’know, ‘cause…It’s just, the guys you usually date aren’t exactly the flower type,” he finished lamely.
“Clark, who else would ever get their flowers sent to the Torch office?” Lana demanded, hands on hips.
Glancing back an forth between the two girls, both of whom were now glaring at him from the same menacing position, he decided that the first rule of getting yourself out of a hole was to stop digging. “I think it’s great, Chloe.”
“Thank you, Clark,” she nodded stiffly. “Besides, they might not even be from a guy; maybe they have something to do with something I wrote for the Torch.”
He looked as if her was going to say something else, but the bell for first period rang and they all headed out to their classes.
All day, Chloe kept going over things in her head, trying to dredge up answers. She found herself spacing out several times in class, remembering how it had felt to walk into the office and see all of those flowers. Finally it was time for lunch and she hurried to the cafeteria, anxious to talk to her friends. Once they had all gathered around the table and Pete had been filled in, on the condition that he wasn’t allowed to tease her, Chloe jumped right in.
“Ok, so someone sends me flowers, that’s great, but what I still haven’t figured out—aside from who—is why did they send me gardenias? That seems like a fairly random choice. So, you think, maybe whomever they’re from was just going for quantity. But in that case, why not go for roses? They’re traditional, recognizable, etc. What I figure is that they must mean something. You know, like every type of flower has some kind of meaning attached to it. What we need to find out is what on earth gardenias are supposed to stand for. Any thoughts?”
Once they managed to digest Chloe’s rapid-fire stream of words, the other three all shook their heads.
“Oh!” Lana said suddenly. “When Nell owned the flower shop she had all these books on flowers there, and I remember there was this huge one that had information on like every flower in existence, including symbolic meaning. I think she included the books when she sold the shop, so...”
“Maybe they’re still there,” Chloe finished excitedly.
“How about if I help you load everything into your car after school, and then we can head over there? I can be a couple of minutes late for work, and the Talon’s right next door anyway.”
“Thanks, Lana,” Chloe replied. Now she just had to wait out the rest of the day. Hopefully the flower shop would turn up some kind of a clue as to what was going on.
**************************************
The little bell over the door tinkled cheerfully as Lana and Chloe pushed their way into the shop. Getting the flowers loaded had taken forever, even with the two of them making several heavily-laden trips. For her part, Chloe wasn’t looking forward to unloading them on her own when she got home. She shook her head, not wanting to think about it. Instead she looked around for someone to help them, and was surprised at who she found.
“Connor?” The tall boy turned around at the sound of her voice and smiled in greeting. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey, Chloe. My parents bought this place from Lana’s aunt; I help out here sometimes after school. What about you? Didn’t you get your fill of flowers today?” he teased, his eyes sparkling. Chloe groaned.
“Oh, god, is that all over school now?”
“Well, it was kind of hard to miss. On the up side, the hallway outside of the Torch doesn’t smell like feet anymore,” he offered. Chloe laughed at that, and he continued. “Speaking of the Torch, actually, I wanted to thank you for not making me sound like a complete moron in that article you wrote. I’d heard your editorials could be pretty hard on jocks.”
“Yeah, well, Clark would flay me alive if I badmouthed one of his teammates,” Chloe grinned. “Besides, you didn’t sound anywhere close to moronic. Two-time state freestyle champion—you must’ve been a seasoned interview pro at your old school.”
“I guess I did a couple,” he admitted. Chloe couldn’t help but notice that when he blushed it started at the roots of his sandy blonde hair. It was cute. Deciding to take mercy on him, Chloe changed the subject.
“Lana and I are here for a book she thinks her aunt might have left,” she started, just before Lana called to her from the front of the shop.
“Chloe! I found it.”
She hurried over to where Lana was standing with Connor’s father, leafing through an absolutely enormous book. Chloe waited impatiently until they finally reached the appropriate page and Lana ran her finger down it until she reached the entry marked “MEANING.” Eyebrows raised, she turned to Chloe, grinning mischievously at her.
“Well, Chloe, it seems the message that your mystery man was trying to send you is, ‘I love you in secret.’” Chloe felt her face growing warm at everyone’s combined attention being focused on her, until Connor’s voice broke through her embarrassment.
“Was there a card?”
The girls looked at each other, and Lana’s face reddened to match Chloe’s.
“Um, we kind of haven’t looked yet . . . gotta go,” Chloe mumbled, and they sped out the door. Running the few feet to her car, the two girls started searching through the river of flowers piled in the backseat. ‘Great, Chloe, don’t even think to look for a card,’ she mentally scolded herself. ‘I thought you were supposed to be a reporter.’
“Jackpot!” Lana’s voice rang out. She stepped back around the car to the sidewalk and handed Chloe the small envelope with her name printed clearly on it.
Hands trembling slightly, Chloe began to open the envelope but stopped, glancing around. Her eyes met Lana’s, and by unspoken agreement they stepped into the Talon. Lana hung up her jacket and tied on an apron as Chloe perched herself on a stool. Taking a deep breath, she opened the square and pulled out a single small piece of paper. Her eyes went wide and yet another blush crept onto her cheeks when she read what was written. Lana bounced impatiently in place.
"Well?? What’s it say?”
Chloe glanced up. “Um...it’s a poem.” Seeing that Lana wasn’t going to let her get away with just that, Chloe cleared her throat nervously and began to read quietly, trying not to attract any more attention.
“If I meet
You suddenly, I can’t
speak—my tongue is broken;
a thin flame runs under
my skin; seeing nothing,
hearing only my ears
drumming, I drip with sweat;
trembling shakes my body
and I turn paler than
dry grass…”
Her face hot, Chloe looked up again to see Lana’s mouth hanging open.
“Wow. I mean . . . wow. Can I see it?” As Chloe handed the note over, Lana thought of the poem she herself had received not long ago. “You don’t think it’s from Byron, do you?”
“No,” Chloe shook her head. “The handwriting’s completely different; besides, I think he prefers the doe-eyed, raven-haired, coffeeshop-owner type,” she smirked.
“Well,” Lana handed the note back, “someone obviously likes the snarky blonde reporter type,” she grinned. “Chloe Sullivan, it looks like you’ve got a secret admirer.”
TBC . . .
Bookmarks