The Next Day ...
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Monday morning came and Chloe fell into her normal routine. She rose early, took a shower, and recounted the events of her weekend while she dressed. After she left Clark's loft early yesterday morning, she spent the rest of the day engulfed in article writing for the Daily Planet. Since classes were over for the semester, she now had free time to pursue her own stories. Although searching the Internet for ideas was usually much easier when she wasn't constantly thinking about a certain farm boy - a farm boy who made passionate love to her a mere ten hours before.
Once Chloe developed a few story ideas, she ended her lazy Sunday on her couch in the living room, staring at the contents of her new home. Her father secured a new job out in California, which was good for him. Yet she missed him, and preferred his presence here to the purchase of an apartment for the summer. Since her job at the Planet was an unpaid internship, her father supplied her the money she would need to survive until college started up again in the fall.
However, she needed his guidance now more than anything. Despite her attempts to forget, Clark remained on her mind throughout the night, most specifically within the freedom of her dreams, where she could relive their passion.
Currently, Chloe waited in line for coffee in a Starbucks on a busy Monday morning in Metropolis, still contemplating her indefinable relationship with Clark. It was silly to think their night meant anything more than it was - just a night of passion to quell their sadness. If that were the case, Chloe shouldn't be envisioning his hands grazing her skin, or feeling the ghostly touch of his sweaty body pressed along her own while they made love. Breathless kisses, gentle caresses ... his body, hard and beautiful, silky and muscular underneath her fingertips...
Chloe closed her eyes and shook her head, desperate to will the images from her mind. For a moment, it seemed to work, and she opened her eyes to look up at the bright, blue sky above. The sun was already hot this morning, turning the cool air of dawn into the stifling humidity that accompanied an average summer day in Metropolis. Cars honked at each other, followed by screams of mild road rage because the congestion of traffic had grown. Next to her, conversations from fellow coffee drinkers filtered into her attention, and for the next five minutes she heard the conversation between two men. Disturbingly, the taller man confessed his ability to cheat on his wife, and his wife's apparent ignorance to his sin.
A pang of guilt wavered through her heart. Clark and Lana have been separated for over a month now. Yet sleeping with him so soon felt wrong, distasteful even. Maybe, deep down, she knew she had taken advantage of him. And maybe he did the same with her.
Regardless, it gave her a new reason to push him away. It was too soon - for both of them.
Once she bought her hazelnut latte, Chloe walked the next few blocks down to the Daily Planet. Her current problems with Clark fell away when she approached the huge, iconic building. She had work to do, a career to chase after and define. Like every Monday, she felt a new sense of pride and accomplishment with what she was doing with her life.
And, like every Monday morning, walking into the Daily Planet meant walking into a disaster zone. People seemed to be everywhere, and doing everything to catch up on the weekend news. Though the Planet ran everyday, big name reporters made the extra effort to publish their follow-up stories to big events from the weekend as soon as possible. It was essential to beat out what little competition the paper had, if only to remind the city of Metropolis of the newspaper's supremacy.
Chloe, however, didn't have that problem. Doing wedding announcements and obituaries rarely, if at all, led to chaotic mornings. She did write the wedding announcement for a State Senator once, which aroused a little attention.
She took a sip of her coffee and walked further into the lobby. Looking up, she saw a few of those big name reporters racing around upstairs through the windows. One day, she promised to herself ... one day, that'll be me.
With a chime of certainty, Clark's face floated in front of her eyes. And she sensed her lonely days at the Planet wouldn't last too much longer.
She took the elevator down to the bottom floor. The steps of a normal day came back into rhythm, and within moments she appeared at the receptionist desk to the basement. It was barely half the size of the huge receptionist area on the main floor, but the Planet set someone there during business hours to assist visitors. Since Chloe did many of the wedding announcements and obits, many visitors often came to her in order to give her their appropriate information.
The young woman behind the desk smiled as Chloe walked up. "Hey, Sullivan ... boss wants to see you."
Chloe rolled her eyes and took another regenerative sip. "I swear, that man can't tell the difference between a fax machine and a microwave."
"It sounded pretty urgent," the woman replied optimistically.
The truth was, her boss was an older gentlemen determined to keep modern technology out of his office. Or, if he did need it, he called on a woman to come and do it for him, because faxing and copying important papers was woman's work. Unfortunately, because he liked Chloe above the rest, she became his go-to woman for such mindless tasks. She had a feeling from the urgency in his message that she might be spending the entire day standing over a copy machine.
Of their own volition, thoughts of Clark filtered into her mind again. Her heart would give anything to see him, to be with him. Shamefully, thoughts of their night came into focus, and she distantly considered calling in sick and driving back to the Kent Farm for the day. Maybe they could talk a little more, and maybe she could spend the day watching movies, or swimming in Crater Lake with him.
And maybe they would spend the day hidden in the fields, with just a picnic basket, and their desire. They could make love endlessly in the grass, giving into what both still want - still crave.
"Chloe, he's waiting for you," the woman insisted, gesturing towards the office door behind them.
She turned around and saw her boss standing anxiously at his door. He was a short man, overweight, and wore glasses with frames much too large for his face. Yet he had a biting tongue for criticism, and Chloe often had to walk away after he berated her to prevent herself from crying. Very few can do that to her, but he was one. Because of his constant criticism, and because of his often tendency to slip her story leads on the 'Q.T.', Chloe felt he really was trying to help her become a better reporter.
But some days it was hard to tell.
"Ms. Sullivan?" he beckoned irritably. "Coming?"
Chloe breathed in deeply and walked towards him, praying it would go well.
However, ten minutes later she walked out of his office with a new story to pursue, along with a fresh brand of criticism to add to her growing collection. Not to mention an entire day's worth of copying and faxing information to varying companies around the city. It was the price to pay for a good story to impress the editors upstairs, and Chloe was more than happy to oblige - anything to get her out of this basement. Exchanging tedious work for a story lead was a trade she would make every time.
"Did it go well?" the woman asked from behind the desk.
Chloe smiled and looked down at the coffee cup in her hand. "If he didn't give me a fresh story, I think I'd be upset with him for making my coffee cold."
The woman laughed lightly, and Chloe smiled wider before turning towards the glass doors just a little ahead of her. She had work to do now, and thoughts of Clark faded from her mind immediately. Other things needed her attention, and frankly she was looking forward to a day without thinking about him every minute. If she wanted to convince herself that a relationship with him was futile, she would need more days like this, and more days without him completely.
But fate wasn't going to let go.
Lois stormed through the glass doors anxiously, and her face lit up when she saw Chloe walking towards her. "Chlo, I've been looking for you," she said matter-of-factly, her eyes glowing with intrigue. "Where have you been?"
Chloe smirked. "Hmm, let me guess. There was a recall on your favorite candy bar, and you want to investigate?"
Lois looked at her seriously. "No, of course not. And don't you dare joke about something like that."
"Sorry," Chloe mused, taking another sip of her coffee. She scrunched her face immediately and threw it in the wastebasket a few feet away. "I like coffee, but not in sub zero temperature."
Lois grabbed her wrist lightly, forcing Chloe to look at her. "Chloe, aren't you going to tell me?"
Chloe raised her eyebrows in confusion. "About the story? Well, he just gave it to me. I guess I could've told you sooner, but that would have required you to actually be in the meeting with me. And since he only wanted to talk to me ... "
"No, not that," Lois interrupted hastily, her curiosity growing. "I mean this weekend. Why didn't you tell me you want out on a date?"
Chloe's cheeks blushed immediately, and she had to fight the urgency to cover her face with her hands. Instead she looked away and tried to pretend Lois couldn't tell anything from her expression. "Lois, I really don't know what you're talking about," she insisted, trying to walk away.
But Lois tugged on her arm, preventing her from leaving. "Chloe, come on. This is me; Lois - the person you tell practically everything to, even if it's to admit your misplaced love for an ignorant farm boy."
Chloe, however, had no wish to tell anyone anything. As far as she was concerned, Saturday night was a mistake and didn't happen. The last thing she needed was Lois' criticism, or, worse yet, her teasing. No telling what Lois would say if she found out her cousin slept with Clark Kent, the man of her cousin's dreams. Chloe already felt ashamed, and Lois' judgment would only make matters worse.
"There's nothing to tell, because nothing happened," Chloe reiterated.
Lois gazed at her skeptically. "Really?"
"Yes, really," she answered, feeling a bit uneasy by her cousin's confidence. "The only men I saw the entire weekend were Patrick Swayze and George Clooney, and they weren't even real."
"Okay," Lois said, as if conceding to her cousin's insistence. Yet the flare in her eyes told Chloe she hadn't given up, and she replied in the next breath, "Well, then, I guess you'll have to explain something to me."
Chloe felt her body go cold. "What?"
Lois grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the glass doors leading into the huge office where her desk was located. Chloe kept her eyes on Lois, utterly confused by what was happening. She tried desperately to make sense of her cousin's odd sense of intuition, and wondered if she mistakenly placed a sign on her forehead with the words, "Yes, I had sex over the weekend. And three times, I might add."
However, Lois looked out into the office and refused to match her stare, apparently taken by something extraordinary. Curious, Chloe turned to see for herself.
And felt her mouth drop open in awe.
Dozens and dozens of white and red roses, both as bouquets and nestled in vases, covered her entire desk - at least where her desk should be. Chloe even had trouble finding the edge of it, as every inch was used to accommodate the vast amount of beautiful flowers. Many drooped over the side, like ivy clinging along the side of an old building. Their decoration brightened the mundane gray walls of the office space, giving the area a strange sense of life. But that surge of life didn't compare to the sun glowing deep within Chloe, despite her previous pledge to keep her relationship with Clark as purely platonic.
Right now, she had a difficult time remembering her decision under the warmth of Clark's over zealous display of love.
Love ... love or loneliness?
Can I really tell the difference? Can he?
Whatever the true reason for his gesture, he certainly was making an excellent case for himself, and their budding romance.
There were so many flowers that it was impossible not to notice them. Pure white and passion red attracts attention in any venue, even in the middle of a busy newspaper office. Very few walked by without stopping to observe the roses strewn across her desk. And it was no wonder, because Chloe couldn't believe the breathtaking, rich color painted carefully into each petal. They looked like flowers drawn by a landscape artist, one who took the time to see to every detail, every line and curve.
Some people, however, didn't just pass by with a curious glance, but stopped and stared, apparently awed by the beautiful sea of red mixed with white. Even through the glass doors, she could hear people whispering, faces drawn to the overwhelming exhibit.
Probably wondering why those flowers were on my desk ... on a desk of someone who hasn't had a date in almost a year.
Of course ... college, unpaid internships, and demanding alien friends were bound to make it impossible for anyone to have a social life.
Lois pushed Chloe through the glass doors once she realized her cousin wasn't going to enter by herself. Many co-workers turned to look at them as they entered, their eyes centered particularly on Chloe. Her cheeks flushed a deep red, much richer than the very flowers causing her embarrassment. She couldn't believe Clark had done something like this, especially after she made the state of their relationship relatively clear with him the day before - this was fun, but a mistake.
"So, Chlo, do you really want me to believe you sent these flowers to yourself?" Lois asked, amused.
Chloe stepped up to her desk and walked around to her chair, careful of her footing to ensure she didn't crush one of the flowers below her feet. Commotion in the office continued, though quite a few of her fellow coworkers remained silent, waiting patiently for her reaction. At the moment, the best she could give them was shock and disbelief, as Chloe considered the true possibility that her dreams from the night before had yet to subside. If she closed her eyes for a long moment and let the world settle around her, she might open them and find the darkness of her bedroom rather than the curious stares from Daily Planet employees.
But grazing her fingertips across the rose petals ensured her that this was all very real.
"Come on, Chloe, spill it. What happened this weekend?" Lois pressed.
Chloe caught a glimpse of a white card amongst the sea of red and white. It was nestled in the bouquet closest to her, and she reached for it with a nervous hand. "I really have no idea why these were sent," she whispered genuinely.
Lois appeared behind her and glanced over her shoulder. "I'd hate to see how many flowers you would get if you actually went out with someone."
Chloe glanced to her cousin with a guarded smile. "So someone gave me flowers. Must be a crush or something," she insisted easily.
"No, this isn't some secret admirer sending flowers. This is an obsessed stalker sending a garden."
"Lois, this is just a nice gesture," she replied, feeling the need to defend Clark, despite how embarrassed she felt. And despite the urgency she had to find him and shove a piece of kryptonite up his butt. Assuming, of course, that this was indeed from her weekend lover. Weekend former lover. Former, definitely former. No longer happening.
The small card in her hand was the only way to know for sure. Chloe turned it over in her hand and found the opening to the envelope. She flipped it up and pulled out the white card, which was blank on the back. Curious as always, Lois continued to glance over her shoulder with invested interest, certain she would find something plausible to support her suspicion of Chloe's wild weekend.
Instinctively, Chloe pulled the card closer to her body and flipped it to the front. The words immediately silenced her, beckoned her, and challenged her. Further, the words stilled her heart, as if spoken by the very man who wrote them. Glowing with affection, Chloe swallowed hard and read the note through again. And again. Then again, once more.
The card read simply as follows:
Of all the mistakes I've made ... you're my favorite. XOXO
Truly and Affectionately Yours --
Lois read it through a couple of times, hoping to find a clue in the words somewhere. However, nothing seemed to pop out, and no arrangement of any letters gave her any type of hidden meaning. Instead, the note was pure and simple, woven carefully with love, and Chloe was clearly emotional from it. Only then did Lois entertain the idea that Chloe's weekend getaway wasn't just with any guy - it was with the guy, the one every woman waits anxiously to meet. And though Lois had her suspicions of who it might be, she decided to keep her theories to herself.
"Must have been some weekend," Lois whispered.
Chloe shrugged, and tried desperately to keep the image of apathy. "It was nothing ... no unexpected fireworks to speak of."
Lois smiled. "Hmm. But I do notice the parade."
Chloe was about to unleash one of her timely, sarcastic remarks, when someone suddenly appeared next to them. Lana.
That was the last person Chloe expected to see standing with them, and her friend's presence made her blood pulse frantically through her veins.
Why Lana? Why now? Chloe though to herself, unable to believe this was happening right now, and to her. I doubt Lana wants to hear about my weekend.
She cringed at the thought, though it brought a twinge of satisfaction in her chest. Regardless of their past feelings, Clark has always been an issue between Lana and Chloe. And before she could help it, Chloe began to role play the fake conversation in her head.
You did what? - Well, Clark and I ... we kind of had ... mind-blowing sex over the weekend. But it was nothing ... really.
It meant nothing, Chloe reminded herself, though her heart spoke something entirely different
"Flowers?" Lana asked, teasing. "What have you been keeping from us, Chloe?"
"Nothing," Chloe insisted quickly, slightly exasperated. She stuck the note in her top, right hand desk drawer and slammed it shut. "There's nothing to say. You two will just have to find something else to fill your gossip column."
Lois laughed. "You know, Lana, I think you're right. I wonder how long this has been going on."
"This?" Chloe asked, her eyes like fire as she turned to her cousin. The exasperation had evolved promptly into anger now, and she really had no idea why she was taking this so personally. Their teasing, though all in good fun, was coming off offensive.
And Chloe suddenly, finally discovered how much the past weekend actually meant to her.
"There is no this. For the past year, I have done nothing but go to college and work at the Planet, and both require boatloads of my time. A relationship right now will just make the entire pyramid of my life crumble like a house of cards."
Lana, however, wasn't buying one word of her friend's insistence. Yet she heard her pleas, hidden under the tone of her voice. "Okay, if that's what you say."
Chloe looked to both Lois and Lana. "It's what I say," she replied harshly. "Seriously, girls, these flowers are just ... from a friend. That's all."
Lois noticed her cousin's hesitation when she tried to characterize the man who sent the flowers to her. In all likelihood, something did happen over the weekend, but Chloe still was, when it came right down to it, a Lane. And Lanes were known for their stubborn streaks. Pressing the issue would only anger Chloe more, and lengthen the amount of time she would take to finally tell Lois everything. Chloe always did, eventually.
So, if she ever hoped to hear the full story, Lois decided to drop the issue. For now.
"Fine, we'll stop harassing you," Lois promised, though secretly deciding to discover Clark's whereabouts this past weekend. "But I will find out sooner or later."
Chloe smirked. "Well, when you do, let me know. I always love a good bedtime story."
Lois rolled her eyes and tugged on Lana's sleeve. "Come on, let's leave Tinker bell with her fairy dust for awhile. Maybe when we return for lunch, she'll have found the line between fantasy and reality."
Chloe just sighed annoyingly, deciding to keep quiet. Another word might hurt her case.
However, before Lana let Lois pull her away completely, she inched closer to Chloe, a serious expression drawn on her face. Clearly something big happened to Chloe over the last few days, and teasing her wasn't the best course of action. Lana knew she ignored Chloe most of the past year, and mainly because her own soap opera unraveled like a coil all around her. But right now Lana wanted to be the devoted, listening friend, sensing Chloe needed one. Under her friend's facade of apathy and frustration, Lana could see a different shade of emotion – almost like fear. Fear grown from the something that happened this weekend, and the something that took her by surprise
Something Chloe didn't understand completely, so awed by its depth, by its power.
And Lana just wanted to help.
"Seriously, Chloe, if you want to talk about it, whatever it might be, we're both here for you," Lana reminded her.
You might not be after you hear I slept with Clark. "Thanks," Chloe whispered, hiding her thoughts behind a soft smile.
Lana smiled in return and looked to Lois, gesturing that they should leave. Lois hesitated only slightly before giving in. She really didn't want to leave without knowing the reason why so many flowers were on her cousin's desk, even though she knew it was for the best. But what could she do? Her entire life she's been protective of Chloe. When Clark Kent broke her heart a dozen times in high school, Lois' vow to be ruler over her cousin's love life was cast in stone.
Chloe was a great reporter, valedictorian of her high school class. But when it came to love, to Clark Kent in particular, she flunked every time.
And just like Lana, the Smallville High boys' club also scathed Chloe, though not quite as often. More than half of those she dated turned out to be meteor freaks. If pressed to investigate, Lois was sure to discover Clark ran with the same crowd, changed by the meteor shower so long ago.
As Lois and Lana drew closer to the glass doors leading out into the lobby, Lois turned back to Chloe, letting her thoughts of Clark fade for now. "Still meeting for lunch, right?"
"If I don't get sucked into the fax machine," Chloe chided.
"Great. See you then."
Chloe watched as her two best friends were swallowed up into the lobby beyond. Her thoughts replayed the conversation over again, just as her eyes gazed over the vases of flowers standing proudly on her desk. Clark made a statement today, and the morning wasn't even over yet. With only two cups of coffee inside of her so far, she didn't know if she could handle this right now. Regardless, Clark's gesture made his feelings clear - Saturday night meant something to him.
Chloe sighed and straightened the sides of her skirt nervously. The real question was ... what had that night meant to her? If anything?
Mingled among the flowers sat the stacks of files her boss needed faxed as soon as possible. Chloe sighed and picked them up, thankful for the mundane task for once. It would give her some uninterrupted moments to think a little more thoroughly about her time with Clark. She needed to sort her feelings out, despite what she told him over the weekend - this was fun, but a mistake ...
A mistake ... was it a mistake?
Did it mean anything to me?
Chloe looked over to the vacant fax and copy room on the far side. The room offered her solace, and she walked to it with a hurry in her step. Her thoughts from before, the questions she asked herself, continued to tumble in her mind like clothes in a dryer. Complete silence was exactly what she needed right now, save for the buzz from the fax machine. She didn't want any more friends trying to threaten information out of her, or even the source of her heart's longing burn - Clark himself.
She just wanted to be alone with her thoughts.
A few people continued to stare as she walked by them, still awed by the sight of her flowers. She ignored them, however, and continued towards her destination, unwilling to give them anything. She hardly understood any of this herself. Everything was so jumbled up right now, and no matter how hard she tried to stop it, sleeping with Clark pulled at the foundation of the pyramid she's built in her life. Suddenly, nothing made sense, and her mind was hurrying to catch up.
Rather, her heart was trying to understand what this pang in her chest really meant … did she really love him? Had she ever?
Chloe entered the room and closed the door immediately. The fax and copy machine were a unit all in one, and reached four feet in height. It sat at the back wall against the windows looking out into the courtyard, now vacant due to the time of day. But break time was only a few minutes away, and soon the courtyard would be filled to capacity with smokers and coffee drinkers, as well as workers craving some fresh air.
In the meantime, she was going to fax. She placed the first paper in the slot at the top, and then dialed in the number on the keypad. In moments the first page was being faxed to its destination and the process was loud enough that she neglected to hear the room's door open behind her. It cracked only a little, just enough to allow entry, but not enough to announce a new presence. Silence lingered as Chloe searched left and right for the small water cooler, feeling her mouth grow suddenly dry due to the humidity in the room.
Then someone spoke behind her.
"Did you like the flowers?"
Chloe swiveled around immediately on her heels, frightened by the voice. She expected to see a mass murderer, or worse, her boss scrutinizing her faxing routine. But instead she saw Clark standing quietly in the doorway, wearing jeans and a white T-shirt that clung to his upper body in all the right places. He looked just as handsome as she remembered days before, and despite her best efforts, images of their weekend passion returned, flickering in her mind like an old TV.
And rather than fear, she now felt something else entirely. Something she tried desperately to suppress.
Desire.
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