Rating: still PG, for the most part.
Disclaimer: I don't really own anything.
Author's Note: And on it goes! I don't remember much about this section of the movie, but I did what I could. Thanks so much for all the compliments! I promise Victoria won't have a large role; it's the least I can do since I included her. :-)
******
"You speak no French, yes?" an older woman with a heavy accent asked Chloe briskly.
Chloe fidgeted on the uncomfortable chair, moving her gaze around the office instead of glancing at the efficient woman; the bright blue walls were covered with blown-up photos from past issues of 'Vogue', potted plants stood at various intervals, the large window let in more sunlight than her eyes could handle.
"No, I mean, yes, I don't. Uh, could you repeat the question?" Chloe stammered, wringing her hands in her lap. She didn't know what possessed her to take Lex up on his offer; yes, she'd always wanted to see Paris, but not working for 'Vogue'! (She detested fashion of any kind.)
The woman, short with wavy dark hair and piercing, unnerving eyes, clucked her tongue impatiently; she motioned for Chloe to follow her. The rest of the afternoon passed by in a blur of colors, and frenzied French lessons. She was shown different fabrics, she was taught how to say the foreign names of specific types of clothing, she was forced to fetch things during a photo shoot.
There was a good point to the day; she got to experience French fashion first hand --it was more artistic than anything else, and she found it fascinating. Photo Shoot Number One involved several stereotypically model-esque women wearing clear, raincoat material in different colors. Water-spouting devices stood behind them, the fingertips of gloves the women wore squirted streams of water as well; the entire town square was soaked within ten minutes. It was, however, gorgeous.
She was briefly introduced to the photographer; a young, dark-haired man with a friendly smile and warm accent. His name, she'd been told, was Peter Ross. He waved and winked at her from behind his equipment, though they didn't have time to chat.
"Chloe!" her boss --a different woman than the one by whom she'd been interviewed-- yelled, motioning frantically toward a huge fan. "Fix it!" Assuming she was supposed to turn on the appliance, Chloe scrambled over, her hair blowing in the light breeze, and flipped the switch.
That was when she realized her error. The blades stirred up a gust of air, tangling the models' hair, making them scream. In a moment of panic, she glanced around her, only noticing the wire when Peter pointed it out gently. Her boss had wanted her to untangle the wire from the base of the fan. *Uh oh,* Chloe thought, annoyed. *This is going to be 'wonderful'...*
******
Her room was small, but comfortable. It contained a tiny bed draped with a light, white spread; there was a desk by the corner, above which hung a corkboard. A small window by the bed was the only source of light unless she were to switch on a dim lamp that stood on the three-drawer desk.
Chloe was perched on the bed, relating her horrid day to her father over the phone. "Don't be silly, sweetie," Gabe said gently, "I'm sure that not everybody in Paris hates you!"
"That's because I haven't met them all," she retorted wryly, stretching out across the bed, receiver to her ear. "What if he forgets all about me, Dad?" she added, meaning Clark.
"He doesn't even know you exist now, Clo," was the blunt response. When she gasped, he was quick to amend his statement. "All I mean is that you shouldn't let yourself get caught up in him; see the sights, enjoy France, meet people. Soon you'll forget all about him."
She glanced longingly at the corkboard, which was empty save for the picture of her love. "I hope not," she whispered almost inaudibly. A bit louder she said, "thanks for calling, Dad; love you."
"Love you, too, Clo. Take care."
******
Lex was just heading toward his father's house for one of his visits, when Clark came barreling out of nowhere. "Lex!" Clark gasped, grinning like an idiot, despite being short of breath. "Come here for dinner Saturday, would you?"
Fixing his younger brother with a bemused glance, Lex sighed. "Why, Clark?"
"I met someone, and she's really special, and I want you guys to meet her! She's a doctor." Clark was bouncing like a two year-old, and Lex was either amused or annoyed; he couldn't decide which he felt more intensely at that moment.
The thought of their father approving of a girl (without trying to sleep with her) made Lex smirk; he finally decided that the prospect of seeing this woman cave under Lionel's questions (and lewd glances) was enough to make the meal almost enjoyable. "Okay. What's her name?" They reached the house, and he strided inside. Where he was going, he didn't know.
"Victoria Hardwick," Clark said casually. "Why?"
The name must have rung a bell; Lex paused, gaped. "Sir Harry Hardwick's daughter? Hardwick Enterprises, the 'indestructable plastic' company? *That* Victoria Hardwick?"
Frowning, the younger Luthor scuffed the toe of his fancy dress shoe against the shiny, white tile floor and averted his gaze; he never liked discussing business, and he certainly never bothered to remember the names of any partners of LuthorCorp. "Uh, I guess so."
"Huh," was all Lex said. Then, still smirking to himself (his brother dating Victoria Hardwick!) he jogged toward the kitchen.
******
Peter was proving to be a very sweet man; he always made a point of saying 'hello' and 'goodbye' to her each day. Whenever she screwed something up (which, she felt, happened quite often), he smiled and mouthed 'it's okay' over her boss's shoulder.
One afternoon, her boss was chastising her for something minor. Chloe's cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and she avoided anyone's gaze. Once the tirade ended, and she was left alone, Peter spoke up. "Have a drink with me."
Whirling around, Chloe stared at him. "Me?"
This made him smile. "Yes, you."
She returned the smile. "Okay."
They went to a nearby cafe, and she let herself fully enjoy the evening; Peter was sweet, witty, and incredibly interesting. It occurred to her briefly, just before they kissed 'good night', that he could replace Clark if she let him.
******
"You didn't tell her, did you?" Judith, one of the Luthor's main cooks, asked Gabe sadly.
Gabe, who was closing up his cell phone after calling his daughter, shook his head and sighed. "No. She's happy in Paris, and if I tell her that Clark is engaged, she'll freak out. I want her to forget about him."
The cook clucked her tongue sympathetically, and patted his arm. "Whatever you think is best."
******
Victoria Hardwick was going to be his sister-in-law; LuthorCorp was going to merge with Hardwick Enterprises. The whole thing smelled of a business arrangement, though Lex didn't really care. Clark, being Clark, had no idea that the whole engagement was a set-up, and Lex, being Lex, wasn't going to tell him; LuthorCorp would be better off from the merger, and that was all the older Luthor son needed to know.
******
The months past; Chloe saw Peter more and more frequently. They went dancing, they saw shows, they met his friends, they went to museums...he even taught her how to take photos, and she was getting quite skilled. The corkboard over her bed was covered with tickets stubs, brochures, and her pictures; Clark's face was entirely obscured, and she never thought about him any more.
That is, until she received the letter from her father. It read, 'Chloe, dear, what I have to tell you is extremely hard, but I thought you should know...' Clark was getting engaged! *Her* Clark! It was enough to make her scream!
And so she did the only thing she could; she ran to Peter's apartment and made out with him. Once his soft, passionate kisses relaxed her, she explained what was wrong. She cared about Peter deeply, but she'd been wrong before; he'd never replace Clark.
"I want to help you," he whispered, smiling down at her and running his fingers through her long curls. "But I can't unless you truly want to be helped. You have to feel it in here," he tapped her forehead lightly, "and here," he rested their clasped hands against her chest. "Only then can you forget about him, my sweet."
With a sigh, Chloe wiped at her eyes and slowly got off the bed. She was leaving Paris in few weeks, and then she'd have to deal with her feelings all over again.
******
MORE SOON!
Disclaimer: I don't really own anything.
Author's Note: And on it goes! I don't remember much about this section of the movie, but I did what I could. Thanks so much for all the compliments! I promise Victoria won't have a large role; it's the least I can do since I included her. :-)
******
"You speak no French, yes?" an older woman with a heavy accent asked Chloe briskly.
Chloe fidgeted on the uncomfortable chair, moving her gaze around the office instead of glancing at the efficient woman; the bright blue walls were covered with blown-up photos from past issues of 'Vogue', potted plants stood at various intervals, the large window let in more sunlight than her eyes could handle.
"No, I mean, yes, I don't. Uh, could you repeat the question?" Chloe stammered, wringing her hands in her lap. She didn't know what possessed her to take Lex up on his offer; yes, she'd always wanted to see Paris, but not working for 'Vogue'! (She detested fashion of any kind.)
The woman, short with wavy dark hair and piercing, unnerving eyes, clucked her tongue impatiently; she motioned for Chloe to follow her. The rest of the afternoon passed by in a blur of colors, and frenzied French lessons. She was shown different fabrics, she was taught how to say the foreign names of specific types of clothing, she was forced to fetch things during a photo shoot.
There was a good point to the day; she got to experience French fashion first hand --it was more artistic than anything else, and she found it fascinating. Photo Shoot Number One involved several stereotypically model-esque women wearing clear, raincoat material in different colors. Water-spouting devices stood behind them, the fingertips of gloves the women wore squirted streams of water as well; the entire town square was soaked within ten minutes. It was, however, gorgeous.
She was briefly introduced to the photographer; a young, dark-haired man with a friendly smile and warm accent. His name, she'd been told, was Peter Ross. He waved and winked at her from behind his equipment, though they didn't have time to chat.
"Chloe!" her boss --a different woman than the one by whom she'd been interviewed-- yelled, motioning frantically toward a huge fan. "Fix it!" Assuming she was supposed to turn on the appliance, Chloe scrambled over, her hair blowing in the light breeze, and flipped the switch.
That was when she realized her error. The blades stirred up a gust of air, tangling the models' hair, making them scream. In a moment of panic, she glanced around her, only noticing the wire when Peter pointed it out gently. Her boss had wanted her to untangle the wire from the base of the fan. *Uh oh,* Chloe thought, annoyed. *This is going to be 'wonderful'...*
******
Her room was small, but comfortable. It contained a tiny bed draped with a light, white spread; there was a desk by the corner, above which hung a corkboard. A small window by the bed was the only source of light unless she were to switch on a dim lamp that stood on the three-drawer desk.
Chloe was perched on the bed, relating her horrid day to her father over the phone. "Don't be silly, sweetie," Gabe said gently, "I'm sure that not everybody in Paris hates you!"
"That's because I haven't met them all," she retorted wryly, stretching out across the bed, receiver to her ear. "What if he forgets all about me, Dad?" she added, meaning Clark.
"He doesn't even know you exist now, Clo," was the blunt response. When she gasped, he was quick to amend his statement. "All I mean is that you shouldn't let yourself get caught up in him; see the sights, enjoy France, meet people. Soon you'll forget all about him."
She glanced longingly at the corkboard, which was empty save for the picture of her love. "I hope not," she whispered almost inaudibly. A bit louder she said, "thanks for calling, Dad; love you."
"Love you, too, Clo. Take care."
******
Lex was just heading toward his father's house for one of his visits, when Clark came barreling out of nowhere. "Lex!" Clark gasped, grinning like an idiot, despite being short of breath. "Come here for dinner Saturday, would you?"
Fixing his younger brother with a bemused glance, Lex sighed. "Why, Clark?"
"I met someone, and she's really special, and I want you guys to meet her! She's a doctor." Clark was bouncing like a two year-old, and Lex was either amused or annoyed; he couldn't decide which he felt more intensely at that moment.
The thought of their father approving of a girl (without trying to sleep with her) made Lex smirk; he finally decided that the prospect of seeing this woman cave under Lionel's questions (and lewd glances) was enough to make the meal almost enjoyable. "Okay. What's her name?" They reached the house, and he strided inside. Where he was going, he didn't know.
"Victoria Hardwick," Clark said casually. "Why?"
The name must have rung a bell; Lex paused, gaped. "Sir Harry Hardwick's daughter? Hardwick Enterprises, the 'indestructable plastic' company? *That* Victoria Hardwick?"
Frowning, the younger Luthor scuffed the toe of his fancy dress shoe against the shiny, white tile floor and averted his gaze; he never liked discussing business, and he certainly never bothered to remember the names of any partners of LuthorCorp. "Uh, I guess so."
"Huh," was all Lex said. Then, still smirking to himself (his brother dating Victoria Hardwick!) he jogged toward the kitchen.
******
Peter was proving to be a very sweet man; he always made a point of saying 'hello' and 'goodbye' to her each day. Whenever she screwed something up (which, she felt, happened quite often), he smiled and mouthed 'it's okay' over her boss's shoulder.
One afternoon, her boss was chastising her for something minor. Chloe's cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and she avoided anyone's gaze. Once the tirade ended, and she was left alone, Peter spoke up. "Have a drink with me."
Whirling around, Chloe stared at him. "Me?"
This made him smile. "Yes, you."
She returned the smile. "Okay."
They went to a nearby cafe, and she let herself fully enjoy the evening; Peter was sweet, witty, and incredibly interesting. It occurred to her briefly, just before they kissed 'good night', that he could replace Clark if she let him.
******
"You didn't tell her, did you?" Judith, one of the Luthor's main cooks, asked Gabe sadly.
Gabe, who was closing up his cell phone after calling his daughter, shook his head and sighed. "No. She's happy in Paris, and if I tell her that Clark is engaged, she'll freak out. I want her to forget about him."
The cook clucked her tongue sympathetically, and patted his arm. "Whatever you think is best."
******
Victoria Hardwick was going to be his sister-in-law; LuthorCorp was going to merge with Hardwick Enterprises. The whole thing smelled of a business arrangement, though Lex didn't really care. Clark, being Clark, had no idea that the whole engagement was a set-up, and Lex, being Lex, wasn't going to tell him; LuthorCorp would be better off from the merger, and that was all the older Luthor son needed to know.
******
The months past; Chloe saw Peter more and more frequently. They went dancing, they saw shows, they met his friends, they went to museums...he even taught her how to take photos, and she was getting quite skilled. The corkboard over her bed was covered with tickets stubs, brochures, and her pictures; Clark's face was entirely obscured, and she never thought about him any more.
That is, until she received the letter from her father. It read, 'Chloe, dear, what I have to tell you is extremely hard, but I thought you should know...' Clark was getting engaged! *Her* Clark! It was enough to make her scream!
And so she did the only thing she could; she ran to Peter's apartment and made out with him. Once his soft, passionate kisses relaxed her, she explained what was wrong. She cared about Peter deeply, but she'd been wrong before; he'd never replace Clark.
"I want to help you," he whispered, smiling down at her and running his fingers through her long curls. "But I can't unless you truly want to be helped. You have to feel it in here," he tapped her forehead lightly, "and here," he rested their clasped hands against her chest. "Only then can you forget about him, my sweet."
With a sigh, Chloe wiped at her eyes and slowly got off the bed. She was leaving Paris in few weeks, and then she'd have to deal with her feelings all over again.
******
MORE SOON!