A/N: As I said this story was started as a Christmas present for the Chlexers over at N-S, but I have honestly had as much fun writing the Clois scenes as those for my chosen pair, so its been great fun to hear the reactions over here where the readers seem to be a mix. I'm glad I've been able to do other's fav couple some kind of justice. I really appreciate the feedback. A little something for everyone in this chapter no matter which couple is your fav.
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Chloe was trying to be rational about this. Really she was, and she thought overall she'd been doing a pretty good job. She'd gotten up and gone in to the office, worked on the notes for her article. Called in a few favors to get a better handle on the kind of legal controls Lionel Luthor had over the LuthorCorp Foundation, surreptitiously probing to try to find out what he'd need to make good on his threat to close it down.
It had been slow going. Prying any information out of the virtual Fort Knox that was LuthorCorp was difficult. Trying to do it without giving away exactly what you were fishing for, was like walking a tight-rope. But overall she'd been pleased with her progress. She now knew a few very critical things:
The most important being—Lionel Luthor absolutely had the power to make good on his threat.
The second most important being that sometime between the time Lionel had started the foundation and now, it had become his son's pet project, almost an obsession. She had gone back through the clippings for the past three years and there were few that didn't point to Lex Luthor's very personal involvement. Which, from everything she'd learned about the man, meant he was going to fight his father tooth and nail. And as the second largest shareholder in LuthorCorp, he definitely had some teeth.
Which meant it all had the potential to get very ugly.
This story was the gift that kept on giving.
Any other day that would have her walking on air, but today it barely registered, was just so much noise in the background as she stressed over the date with Alex this evening.
The date she wasn't going on.
She told herself she was being irrational. After all, Lois hadn't wanted to do this, had even tried to get her to go instead.
So there was absolutely no reason to be jealous.
Still when she called her cousin at 5 p.m. from the Foundation's volunteer fair to check up, something about the conversation made her uneasy. It wasn't anything Lois said or even what she didn't say. If anything she acted exactly how Chloe would have expected, exasperated, put upon, and getting a little irritated.
And yet, Chloe couldn't shake the vague feeling that underneath it all Lois had maybe sounded just the tiniest bit . . . excited.
Which was ludicrous because Alex wasn't her cousin's type of guy at all. Sure maybe in the looks department he had that kind of classic All-American thing that made Lois and pretty much every other female on the planet melt, but that would have mattered for about all of three seconds. The things that really made Alex, Alex, his acerbic wit, his penchant for lecturing on obscure pieces of military history, his low tolerance for fools, any one of those things would have Lois running for the hills.
So she wasn't worried at all.
And she was just grabbing her coat, and heading all the way across Four Corners Park in the snow, to Metropolis's answer to Rockfeller Center because she still hadn't gotten a chance to actually catch a glimpse of Alex in the flesh.
That was all it was.
Because really she trusted Lois completely.
----
Lex didn't trust Clark at all.
He'd come to this conclusion last night while working on his third scotch, trying to figure out why Clark's description of the evening had rubbed him the wrong way. And then it had come to him like a revelation, a blinding flash of insight so bright he was amazed he hadn't seen this massive flaw in his plan earlier.
Clark was falling for Chloe himself.
He should have seen this coming a mile off. In the end he could only blame it on the fact that Clark was perhaps the world's ultimate boy-scout, adhering to a moral code so rigid it might as well have been made of steel. But Lex knew better than anyone that when met with a powerful enough force every person had their tipping point.
And the enchantment of Chloe Sullivan was exactly that powerful.
Still for all that he was certain he was right, for all that he'd wanted to go wake Clark up in the middle of the night and throw him out of the penthouse, he felt he at least owed his friend the opportunity to prove him wrong. He wanted solid proof to throw in Clark's face before he devised something extremely painful as retribution.
He'd thought briefly about putting a surveillance team on him, but rejected it. As angry as he was right now, he didn't want to risk even the slightest possibility that Clark might have to use his powers while he was being followed. He wouldn't gamble with his friend's secret that way. Which meant it was something he'd have to do himself.
Which is how he came to be standing next to Four Corners Park skating rink at 5:30 p.m. watching Clark Kent lead Chloe onto the ice.
She was just as beautiful in person as she was in her photograph, perhaps a little more . . . animated than he'd expected, all flailing arms and almost cartoonish facial expressions, but he imagined that had to do with nervousness since Lex remembered she'd never skated before. That made something his chest twist and suddenly he wished he'd told Clark to choose another activity, one that Clark wouldn't get to teach her or share her first time with her . . .
He watched as Clark brought a hand up to Chloe's waist to steady her, felt a vein in his head start to throb.
. . . definitely one that involved less touching.
----
Even though she'd grown up playing ice-hockey with all the boys on the base, Lois wasn't having nearly as much trouble pretending to be unsteady on skates as she had anticipated. Just being around Alex seemed to turn her into a complete and absolute spaz.
Like right now when he'd put a hand at her back, and she'd practically jumped out of her skin, started tripping over her feet.
"Careful." Alex warned, putting a hand out to steady her. "Here," he caught one her hands in his, "lets just go slow at first."
She tried to find her voice, couldn't, wound up just nodding.
He was so patient and gentle as he took her around the rink, treating her almost like she was something fragile, like a china doll he was afraid might break. It should have annoyed her, pissed her off.
But it didn't.
No one had ever wanted to protect her like that, not even her own father. The General loved her, supported her, but he believed in war wounds, that the fight made a soldier stronger. So she was the tough one, the fun one, the good time girl. Guys wanted to party with her, because they didn't have to worry about hurting her. And here Alex was treating her like she was precious, like he wanted to keep her from harm.
All because he thought she was someone else.
Because Lois Lane just wasn't the type of girl guys like Alex wanted to take care of.
And she needed to remember that.
Whirling around on the ice, she slapped him playfully on the chest with the flat of her hand, "Okay, so this has been fun, but what do you say we make it a bit more interesting? Bet you can't catch me."
----
"Umm, Chloe, I don't think that's such a good idea."
But she was already taking off, flying down the ice like she was born to it.
Letting out a whoop of joy so infectious Clark couldn't help but follow after her.
God, she was absolutely unlike any woman he had ever met. She just attacked life, did everything with such incredible gusto, it made you feel like anything was possible. When he was around her, he forgot about all the responsibilities, all the weight on his shoulders, all the people he'd failed to save and the ones he had yet to fail.
Right now on this ice, chasing after her, watching her brunette hair streaming behind her, and listening to her laugh, he felt normal, felt free.
Felt like a regular guy on a date with the girl of his dreams.
And before he had a chance to really register how dangerous that feeling was and pull back, Chloe took the turn a little too slowly, and he was catching her around the waist, with a triumphant "Gotcha!"
And then their combined momentum took over and they were spinning and falling in a tangle of arms and legs and sidesplitting laughter.
Instinctively, he turned them so he hit the ice instead of her, wound up with an armful of soft, warm Chloe on top of him.
"Oh," she looked down at him in embarrassed concern, "Oh, your head. Are you okay?" And before he could stop her, she was running her fingers through his hair, checking for tender spots. "Does it hurt?"
It was so far from hurting it wasn't funny. Her fingers were stroking the nape of his neck, and he could feel her warm breath on his skin, smell the coconut of her shampoo, and he definitely needed to break this moment up.
"No, but you're getting pretty heavy."
To his surprise, she laughed, smiled down at him affectionately. "Weakling."
And then it happened.
He wasn't exactly sure how it happened, whether she'd been intending to kiss his cheek and he'd just moved his head, or if she'd even meant to kiss him at all. But for just a split second her lips had brushed his, and the shock of it must have short-circuited every rational thought in his brain, because the next thing he knew, he was flicking his tongue along the line of her lips, and she was opening her mouth to him.
And she felt so perfect, he completely forgot she wasn't his.
----
Lex's hands white-knuckled on the railing.
He was going to kill Clark.
He'd thought about it once or twice back when they always at sword-points, but it had always been a vague fantasy, little more than a fleeting wish born of frustration. There'd been no heat behind it, no real impetus.
There was nothing vague about this. In fact he was imagining it right now in vivid satisfying detail.
And what's more he knew how to do it.
He kept a piece of kryptonite in his mansion, in a lead box, just like the Kents. He hadn't wanted it, maybe didn't trust himself with it. But Clark had insisted, pointed out that they both had seen too many times when something happened that made him unpredictable, potentially dangerous, and he'd wanted Lex to have the ability to protect himself. So he'd taken it, put it in his safe and silently vowed he'd never use it.
He wanted to use it now.
Maybe not to actually kill Clark, but at least let him have the satisfaction of giving the younger man a black eye.
He watched as Chloe shifted into a sitting position, smiled shyly down at Clark.
Two black eyes.
And possibly a split lip.
After all Clark would heal as soon as he put the kryptonite away.
Unfortunately.
Taking another deep breath, he forced himself to turn away, started to make his way back around the outside of the rink to his car before his desire to do bodily harm snapped the last thread of rationality and he actually resorted to physical violence. After all there wouldn't be anything particularly satisfying about breaking his hand on Clark's jaw.
Had only made it halfway around to the rink to the large Christmas tree that towered over the skaters, when he ran smack dab into the absolute last person he wanted to see.
Okay, second to last.
Anyone was better than his father.
Even infuriating blonde reporters.
----
Chloe blinked back the tears, and tried to swallow around the horrible choking lump in her throat. She felt like she was suffocating, felt like she drowning or someone had removed all the air from the world.
Lois had kissed him! Her Alex! And he had kissed her back!
God, she was so stupid! Of course he had kissed her back. She was Lois. Guys always went for Lois. She was gorgeous and athletic and could drink most of them under the table. Lois was fun. Lois was sexy. Lois was everything most guys wanted.
Chloe had just thought Alex would be different.
She watched as he pulled back and looked up at Lois with a half-dazed smile on his face, felt the lump in her throat get even bigger.
She had to get out of here.
Turning away she began to run back across the park as fast as she could, which unfortunately in ankle deep snow wasn't very fast.
It was still fast enough that, with her head down, she didn't see the individual approaching from the other direction until it was too late.
"Oof."
A pair of gloved hands came up to steady her, and then depressingly familiar, and not particularly pleasant, voice drawled, "We've got to stop meeting this way."
Lifting her chin, Chloe glared up at coolly elegant face of Lex Luthor as he looked down at her with barely disguised disdain. She didn't care. At this moment, she hated the world, and she decided she most especially hated this man with his perfect clothes and sleek elegance and obscene sexuality. This man who probably had never felt anything like heartache because he could just look at the person he wanted and have them.
God she wanted to snap at him, wanted to verbally flay him. But she couldn't. Because there was still this awful suffocating lump of betrayal in her throat, cutting off her air supply, and she couldn't even scream. So with an inarticulate little grunt of frustration, she just shrugged off his hands and tried to push her way past him.
He caught her by the upper arm. "Leaving so soon? But we've just gotten started."
Darting a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure Lois and Alex weren't coming up behind her, she gritted her teeth, and ground out, "Let go of me."
He did, but not without a parting shot, "So you get caught following me and run away without a word. I've got to say I'm disappointed."
And suddenly that lump in her throat, that choking sadness was replaced with something else, something simpler and less painful—pure unadulterated anger. She whirled around, "Do you actually have to have doors made wider to fit your ego? I wasn't following you. Didn't even know you were here. And as surprising as it may be to you, running into you is not the highlight of every woman's day, so you'll excuse me if I didn't genuflect before I went back to my life."
Something in his face changed, nothing overt, nothing that you could really call an expression, it was just that his features became more set, more rigid, like he was putting on a mask, and she realized too late that something she said might have actually struck a nerve, that perhaps his day had been no better than hers. But before she could apologize, he spoke again. "Well, its good to know that your desire to make your name on a story that's based on little more than conjecture and speculation hasn't affected your social life."
Conjecture and speculation?! He really thought she'd publish a story that wasn't much better than gossip? God, the arrogance of this man. "So if I ask you whether you intend to try to use your shares to block your father's attempt to elect William Casey to the board of LuthorCorp as leverage against him closing the Foundation, which he still has the power to do as the sole trustee, that's just conjecture and speculation?"
Lex quirked an eyebrow at her in an expression that looked almost appreciative. "You've done your homework."
"Always do." Just then she remembered exactly where she was. Not more than ten feet away from the skating rink where her cousin had been playing tonsil hockey with her Alex. Face twisting in consternation, she darted a glance over to the rink.
He crossed his arms. "Am I keeping you from something?"
Just committing homicide.
"No I just-," she looked up at him blankly, then shook herself. Get a hold of yourself, Chloe. Lex Luthor is standing in front of you practically challenging you to interview him. At least get something out of your crappy day.
But before she could follow through on this new resolve, she saw Lois and Alex turn in their skates at the counter and start heading straight towards them.
Did the only thing she could think of . . .
Hid.
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Lex grunted in surprise as the obnoxious blonde grabbed the lapels of his overcoat and pulled him back behind the lit branches of the huge Norway Spruce. It wasn't the most unpleasant experience in the world. She was warm and soft, with undeniably feminine curves, and she smelled unexpectedly like baked goods and with just a hint of citrus. Made him think of mulled cider and places where people told stories around fireplaces. Still it all felt a little surreal.
And really, what was with this woman and Christmas trees?
"I'm sorry, wha-"
"Shhh!" she hissed up at him and then tilted her head to peer around his shoulder and through the branches.
"Are you hiding?"
"Shhh!" was the only response she gave before she released him and moved to a better position to observe whoever it was she was observing.
Curiosity getting the better of his survival instinct, he turned to follow her gaze, shifted one of the branches out of the way . . .
And found himself staring at the approaching forms of Clark Kent and Chloe Sullivan.
"Shit."
By the time he realized he hadn't said that, the blonde was grabbing him again and pushing him back against the branches, even as she was turning her head to follow Clark and Chloe's path away from the skating rink.
Chloe laughed at something Clark had said, then wrapped her arm around his and briefly touched her forehead to his shoulder. Lex had to fight not to growl.
Clark brushed a strand of hair out her face and smiled. To Lex's shock the blonde let out a sound that was something very close to a growl, if you crossed it with a wail, and stumbled away from him to glare after the retreating couple.
"He doesn't even know her." she whispered, sounding devastated, "She doesn't even like poetry or opera, and she took him to a football game! Doesn't he know I would never do that? I mean I know she's gorgeous and exciting, but doesn't he know, can't he see its not me?"
Lex just stared at her in shock, as slowly all the pieces started to come together, and he came to a series of world-altering realizations.
First, Clark Kent could remain alive, so he didn't need that kryptonite after all.
Because Chloe, the real Chloe, his Chloe, had not been kissing Clark. His Chloe was standing right here in front him, covered in snow and evergreen needles, and yes, a single strand of tinsel.
The second being, he had wasted a good portion of the last six years approaching nearly every long-legged, statuesque brunette who crossed his path out of some vague subconscious hope that he might one day happen to meet her.
Because his Chloe was blonde and petite and . . . absolutely breathtaking.
Sniffling a little, she turned back to face him and sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm not usually this crazy. I've just had kind of a weird day. I guess I should at least introduce myself." She stuck out her hand, "I'm Chloe Sullivan."
He met it in a daze.
She continued completely oblivious. "And you, of course, are Lex Luthor, and-" A look of horror crossed her face, "And Oh My God I pushed you into a tree!"
"It's all right. Really."
But she wasn't listening to him. "Look I'm sorry. Really, I am, but before you get any ideas about taking your revenge, you should know my editor thinks I'm very valuable."
And in the midst of his happy, wonderful daze, Lex was suddenly slammed with a third horrible realization.
His Chloe . . . thought he was kind of an asshole.
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