A/N: As always, please let me know how I'm doing, because feedback makes everything better.
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Chapter 8
All your life you've had a tendency to let the damsel lead you straight into the mouth of the dragon.
-- Lionel Luthor to Lex Luthor "Commencement"
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"We have a problem."
There wasn't an immediate response, but something in the quality of Lex's silence told her she had his complete attention even if he wasn't giving her verbal reassurance of such. Taking a deep breath, she plunged forward. "Your father-"
He didn't let her get any further. "Stay by the phone you're calling from."
And the next thing she knew, she was listening to a dial tone. Staring blankly at the handset of the phone, she wondered where he was that he couldn't, or wouldn't, talk openly to her. Opening night at the Opera? Standing in the midst of one of his 33.1 facilities? Enjoying a domestic evening at home with Lana? Wherever it was, it was worlds away from this crappy little gas station on this nearly deserted road.
Sighing she put the phone back in its cradle, leaned back against the edge of the pay phone and waited, tried not to think about the fact that she didn't doubt he'd call. That even that tenuous implied promise made her feel better, steadier.
Sure enough, less than a minute had gone by before the pay phone rang. This time it was Lex who didn't waste time with preliminaries.
"Where are you?" The fact he was openly asking her for such information now when he wouldn't before, told her he must have taken some measures regarding security in the interim.
"On Route 43, about half-way between Smallville and Edge City."
"And you don't have a tail?"
"Not unless they're invisible. Which you know might be possible."
He let out a breath that could have been a laugh if you ignored the thread of strain. "Okay, take this down."
Three minutes later she was pulling back on Route 43, and heading towards a hotel room in Edge City, with the number for a different secure cell-phone clutched in her hand.
Wouldn't Lionel get a kick out of this if he knew?
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Lex beat her to the hotel.
She didn't know whether he'd already been in Edge City or had broken every traffic law on the books getting there. All she knew was when she opened the door to find him standing in the middle of the room, staring back at her, the relief at seeing him there was a nearly physical thing.
Lex took a half-unconscious step forward as if he might embrace her, and for moment she desperately wanted him to.
He'd done it once before, the morning after he'd come to the safehouse for the first time. She'd woken on the couch to find him gone, stumbled to her feet in a near panic thinking she'd dreamed him that night, certain she was going crazy. And then she'd turned and he'd been there, reaching for her, touching her, pulling her close and telling her it hadn't been real. Never understanding that had been her fear.
Even now, after all this time, she could remember exactly what his touch had felt like, how different it had been from every other embrace in her life. Not the loving reassurance of her father, or the warm safety of Clark, not even the placid affection of Lana. Lex's touch was broken, wrong, like he'd received so little real comfort in his life he didn't know how to give it, was trying his best and knowing he was failing. She hadn't cared, had just held on for dear life, afraid he might disappear if she let go and at the end, just before he pulled away he'd finally gotten it right, let himself take as much as he was trying to give.
And for that instant it had been everything.
She wanted that now, wanted to be touched, to be held, to be gathered in someone's arms and told pretty lies about how everything would be all-right. Less than thirty-two hours since she'd renounced their partnership due to his transgressions, more than thirty-two months since he'd walked out on their friendship due to hers, and suddenly none of it mattered. She didn't care, felt like she was in free fall, blindly reaching out for anything to hold onto, even if it was him.
Or maybe especially if it was him. After all, Lionel was their shared demon, the thing that went bump in their night, and in the face of him, if nothing else, they were united.
But he didn't come any closer, just stood rooted, stalled, swept his eyes over her form as though trying to find the wounds his father had inflicted. Self-consciously she wrapped her arms around her torso, hugged herself in some kind of pathetic substitute.
"Are you okay?" he asked, voice hoarse with barely checked violence and something that might be mistaken for concern.
"I'm fine."
They both knew it was a lie.
He did touch her now, hands on her shoulders, as if by holding her at arms-length he could keep all the emotion there, too. "Chloe?"
The gesture was too familiar and too remote all at once, tugged at something weak and needy inside her. Shrugging him off, she moved to sit in the chair by the desk. "I said I'm fine."
Lex didn't argue just sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for her to speak.
Stalling for time, Chloe took in her surroundings. Edge City was town entirely devoid of personality, had neither Metropolis's chic glamor nor Smallville's quaint charm. The hotel room reflected that. It was terribly ordinary, clean and well-kept, with aging corporate décor. A room designed to cater to businessmen like her father, cheap shirt and tie-types, who traveled on a forty-five dollar per-diem, and didn't worry about much more than cable, an internet connection and a decent meal. Without going into the bathroom she knew the towels would be spotless but thin, bleached within an inch of their life, a small coffee-maker would be on the counter, and drugstore-brand shampoo in the shower.
And in the middle of all the underwhelming mundanity sat Lex watching her, looking incongruously expensive and powerful, even casually attired as he was in a soft gray sweater and black slacks. God, her world just got more surreal with every passing moment.
Trying not think about it, she smirked and commented, "Seems a little beneath you."
He just shrugged. "Best I could do on short notice. Considering what you said on the phone, I wanted to stay away from LuthorCorp properties."
And with that they were back to issue at hand. The thing she'd been trying not to give voice to, because when she did, it would be real, be inescapable and need to be dealt with. She turned her head away.
Lex was having none of it. "Chloe. What happened?"
"Your father knows about us."
Even though he must have been preparing for it since she called, for just a moment Lex went absolutely still, his face a mask. Then it was gone and he was back in control. "What exactly does he know?"
"Not everything. At least I don't think so. He knows we've been in contact, and that we've been meeting, but he didn't mention the lab or my infection, so I don't think he's put it all together. Actually, he accused us of having a tawdry affair."
She didn't know what kind of reaction she been expecting, but it wasn't the one she got. The corner of Lex's mouth twitched irrepressibly, and she had the maddening sensation that he was holding back a laugh.
It infuriated her. It wasn't like she wanted him or wanted him to want her, but this was serious and did he have to find the idea of being physically attracted to her so laughable? Crossing her arms over her chest, she snapped, "It's not funny."
"No. It's not," Lex sobered, "But it is typical."
At her questioning look, he smiled. It was an awful smile, devoid of all his previous amusement, empty and darkly sardonic. "Infidelity is my father's vice, not mine. I saw what it did to my mother. Whatever my sins regarding women, I'm not unfaithful. But he's worked so hard to create a son in his image . . ."
He trailed off. But Chloe could fill in the blanks. In perhaps the ultimate act of narcissism Lionel couldn't see Lex as a person, only a warped reflection of himself, of what he'd molded him to be. And for the first time in a long time she hated Lionel Luthor not just on her own behalf, but Lex's as well. Hated that him for everything he'd done, and perhaps even more for what he was doing now, denouncing his son as the enemy, declaring himself to be outraged at his actions. Frankenstein unwilling to look on the monster he'd created.
And then there was the other part of what Lex had said. She didn't know why she believed his statement of faithfulness, but she did. The revelation was unexpected in almost every way, and yet from the moment he said it, she had no doubt about its truth. It fit so naturally with everything she knew about him, from his obsessive nature, to his desperate need for loyalty, for connection, for love. Just another piece for her to add to the puzzle of Lex Luthor.
It was a puzzle she wasn't sure she wanted to solve, but that didn't seem to stop her from trying.
For a moment they just looked at each other, something inexplicable passing between them, and then everything suddenly seemed too powerful, too overwhelmingly personal for both of them. Chloe glanced away, and Lex stood up.
"Well, in any case, my father's lack of imagination buys us some time."
"To do what?"
"That's what you're going to have to decide."
Chloe gaped at him.
Walking over, Lex leaned against the edge of the desk, and looked down at her. "Based on what you've told me, right now my father doesn't know anything I can't manage from my side."
"But Lana-"
He shook his head. "Let me worry about that." At her skeptical look, he sighed, looked past her at some distant point on the wall, and continued, "My relationship with Lana is of very little interest to my father, except as a means of controlling me. He can threaten me with revealing this to her, might even try it, but in the end I doubt he'll actually tell her. Information about a secret like this becomes a great deal less powerful once its out. Telling Lana would be like sacrificing a queen to take a pawn, you don't, not if you can help it."
"What could possibly be more valuable to him than controlling . . ." But her voice trailed off as a cold finger of dread walked up her spine and suddenly she saw it, laid out before her like the chess-game he'd been describing.
He gave voice to her understanding. "Controlling you. Or should I say controlling Clark through you."
Automatically she opened her mouth to protest, but Lex put a hand up to her lips. "I know this is the part where you tell me there's nothing about Clark Kent that would interest my father, but please spare me the insult of going through the motions of the lie. We both know I've stopped pretending to believe it, and I'd like to think we're beyond that."
Slowly, he removed his hand. Chloe swallowed. She was supposed to at least make a token effort now, was betraying Clark in her failure to do so, but she could feel the warmth of Lex's fingers on her lips like a brand, and the words wouldn't come.
He was still looking at her, watching her, and when she didn't speak, something in his eyes changed, something she couldn't quite read, but she had the strangest sensation her silence had meant something to him.
Before she had a chance to decipher exactly what, he was moving on. "My father thinks Clark is a 'remarkable young man,' a 'son any father would be proud of'" Again that awful, empty smile. "And suddenly he's a regular, welcome guest at the Kent farm. While I'm sure Martha Kent has her charms, I think its more than that. I think my father knows the secret Clark doesn't have. And I think none of you are quite sure what to do about that."
Chloe was relieved he didn't look to her for confirmation because she knew he'd find it. Instead he kept his gaze fixed on the starving artist painting over the bed, walked her through the rest of it, with cold clean precision. "We'll say for the sake of this that I'm right. My father isn't stupid. He knows he isn't trusted. That leaves him looking for an opening, a way in. And like it or not, we've just given him one."
Chloe shuddered, but let him continue. He was right. She had heard the triumph in Lionel's voice. He thought he had leverage, a way to make her dance, and maybe given enough time she could figure out what Lionel wanted, but Lex could already see it, was playing where his father was . . . ten moves ahead.
"It's almost perfect actually." Lex observed with something too close to appreciation for Chloe's taste. "Clark trusts you, and dear old dad thinks he can make you speak with his voice, at least for a little while. At first it will be little things, you won't be so quick to distrust, won't be so loud in your objections to an idea just because it comes from his mouth. And by the time push comes to shove and you tell him to go to hell, Clark's skepticism isn't what it once was. And the fact its my father coming to him with news of our association doesn't automatically make it a lie or a scheme. Might just be the action of a concerned ally."
"And if I just tell him to go to hell from the outset?"
"Then he plays that card early. Perhaps not as effective, but any association with the devil is still bound to make a dent." He looked back down at her, expression grim and almost apologetic. "Right now, there's no downside in this for him, Chloe."
She pressed her forehead tightly against the heels of her hands, but a solution wasn't coming. She needed more space to think. Standing up, she began to pace the length of the room, trying to think. "Okay," she turned to back to face Lex, "Okay, so I tell Clark first. Full disclosure. Cut Lionel off at the knees. He'll understand, right?"
Lex's expression told her exactly what he thought of that idea, but he just crossed his arms and sighed, "I don't think my limited experience with Clark's tolerance is the best gage by which to judge."
She scowled at him, "Well you don't know him like I do."
"Obviously."
"Okay, so thats it. I'll explain everything to him, and all this will be over." Her words didn't sound nearly as resolved and certain as she had hoped. And she realized that if she told Clark, that's exactly what would happen. Everything would be over. He'd be disappointed in her, hurt that she hadn't come to him, but he would understand, forgive her and take her back.
But he would only do it once.
She couldn't ever change her mind, couldn't go back to Lex for help no matter what happened, couldn't sin again. She'd go back to being Clark's go-to girl, and whatever the meteors made her, she'd just have to accept.
Hadn't she already made this decision? It shouldn't feel this hard.
"Chloe," Lex's voice was quiet, warning, "There's something else we need to consider."
"What?"
"My father may have put on a white hat, but he isn't above getting it dirty. He's still involved with certain aspects of LuthorCorp."
It took a moment for what he was getting at to sink in. Then it did and Chloe squeezed her eyes shut, angry at herself for not remembering—Lionel gloating to her at the Planet, the facility that had been emptied when Lex was trapped.
"33.1. Of course, your father knows about 33.1." Which meant if Lex was using her results to inform that research, there would at least be pieces there that could peak Lionel's interest.
Lex didn't confirm it, but he didn't deny it either. Maybe it was like he'd said. They were beyond going through the motions of lies they didn't believe. "I've done my best to keep you separate from everything else at LuthorCorp, separate servers, separate building and staff. But my father is getting his information from somewhere, and until I've tracked that down, I can't guarantee he's not going to put the pieces he legitimately has access to, together with whatever other information he's getting."
"And do what with it?"
"I don't know. Maybe nothing."
"You don't believe that."
"No. I don't."
"And if I asked you to destroy everything? So there'd be nothing for your father to find?"
He walked over to her. "Is that really what you want?"
"Of course its not what I want!" Chloe exploded. "I want it to be my choice. Not something I got forced into by you and your father's sick games."
"Chloe." He reached out for her, but she slapped his hands away.
"No! I am so tired of everyone trying to make me into their pawn, make me do what they want. You, your father, god, even Clark in a way. It's my life dammit! I want my life back."
She shoved at him again, but he caught her by the wrists, trapping her hands there against his chest. "So take it."
"What?"
"You heard me. You want your life back? Take it." Lex's voice was harsh, his hands biting hard into her flesh. "You walked into my office six weeks ago knowing exactly what you wanted. Ready to do whatever you had to, to get it. And now you're just going to back off?" He shook his head, "You're stronger than that."
"Maybe I'm not."
"I have data from twelve very painful experiments that says otherwise." He released her now and stepped back, "Your choice, Chloe. What do you want?"
What did she want? So many things. She wanted Clark to look at her the way he looked at Lana. She wanted to stop caring that he didn't. Wanted to make her own choices without always having to worry about what Clark would think. Wanted to not go to bed every night worrying who she would be in the morning.
But right now, what she really wanted was Lionel Luthor's head on a stick.
Still . . .
She frowned up at him. "Why does what I want matter to you?"
"Maybe I don't want to stand by and watch my father get you back under his thumb." Lex shrugged, and half-turned away, putting his hands in his pockets. "Or maybe I'm just buying time, trying to get your trust so you'll come back to the table and renegotiate our deal. Does it make a difference?"
It did and it didn't. It was the difference between concern and calculation, but in the end Lex's motives were probably some strange amalgam of the two, with others she couldn't even fathom thrown in for good measure. She was never going to understand everything that made Lex do what he did, so really the question was, did that unknown change her mind?
No, it didn't.
"You know how you said there's no downside in this for your dad?" She put a hand out on his arm, turning him to face her. "I want to find one."
The corner of Lex's mouth curved up. "Then that's what we'll do."
"So how do we do that?"
"Well for starters . . . we're going to have a tawdry affair."
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