NEXT CHAPPIE!!

It was rather fortunate that early on in life Lex had shed every ounce of hair atop his head, or else the stress of his Presidency would have indefinitely caused baldness. Shoulders hunched and eyes bleary, he wanted nothing more than to melt into his covers and fall into a coma for the next three to six weeks, but suspected that this would not be advisable.

He was fortunate that many of his 'lackeys' assigned to him via his father had followed him to the White House, making the vetoing and approving of countless bills and policies somewhat more sufferable, though he would not go as far as to say that he enjoyed the monotony.

His bleak exhaustion spanned to no end, though he doubted that it was nothing a good night's sleep wouldn't cure. "Mister President?" He appreciated the sound quality of the man who loomed in his doorway, no weakness or pathetic uncertainty that did nothing more than irritate him.

Lex turned blankly, eyes fixing on his head of security and immediately hoping for news of a positive nature. "Yes, Bernard?" The brisk sharpness of his tone was to be expected from a man teetering on the edge.

"I had a man observing the goings on at The Daily Planet, and he believed that you would wish to be informed that a Miss Lana Lang recently stopped by." The words were anticlimactic, Bernard did not seem to grasp the gravity and unpleasantness of the situation.

"Oh?" He massaged circles into his scalp, his head suddenly throbbing, anxiety creeping upon him like cancer.

"Yes, would you like me to get the tape for you?" The President sat up sharply, eyes flickering with something that resembled disbelief as well as grim satisfaction. He had nearly forgotten that Chloe's office had been bugged.

The days and hours seemed to bleed together, and the last thing he needed was Lana screwing things up further. Why couldn't she just stay away? He would have to do something about that. "Yes, Bernard, thank you. Immediately." Bernard inclined his head and turned away to do the President's bidding, as he was accustomed to doing.

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FLASHBACK

(I know, I tend to do this quite often)

Chloe thanked her lucky stars that she did not have to put up with a roommate since Lana. It seemed unlikely that very many people would grow accustomed to the constant comings and goings of a bald multi-billionaire, and now governor to boot as well as the frequent nighttime and mid afternoon visits of a meteor freak farm boy who had taken to constantly bringing fabric swatches and different costume designs to pore over. There is only so much one person can take for rent-control.

Lex decided against the red dress...twice, and the decision making process was so exhausting that they ordered pizza for dinner and breakfast. She was perfectly aware of the fact that he could summon his many servants and minions to come by her apartment at all hours of the night with exquisite cuisine, but he knew better than to attempt such a bold maneuver. He had yet to achieve getting her to remain the night at his mansion, and he was coming dangerously close to giving up that part of the power-struggle altogether.

Pauline seemed to be quite gleeful at the prospect of running Chloe straight into the ground, not caring whatsoever that she was facing finals for the, well, final time. Graduation, a terrifying prospect under normal circumstances, was beginning to appear all the more attractive as school became less of an 'experience' and more of a chore.

While she observed her fellow collegians strapped onto beer bongs and making the most of their final weeks of being students, she couldn't help but wonder if she could be doing the same in any alternate universe. Change one variable and everything is invariably altered, if she had never met Clark, would she be one of those drunk morons, a runner up for the all-important wet T-shirt contest? There would be no Lex, at least as far as she was concerned. Nothing would be the same, Clark's secret touched every part of her life, left nothing unmoved. He was her first dream boy and arguably obsession, the first and one of the few times she actually surrendered an attempt at a conquest. Even his secret was her own, a burden that grew heavier by the day.

"Chlo?" The man of the minute called from behind her, his unassuming voice booming over the raucous and inebriated college students nearby. She smiled as she turned to face him, amused with his timing and glad that this alone would be her own, she was fighting tooth and nail to have something of her own to cling to, the childish and unmoving part of her not wishing to share.

"Gotta love that...flannel." She greeted flatly, absorbing his outfit with distaste. "Got your super suit under that or are you roughing it?" He blushed but remained chivalrously unaffected by her slight.

"Only a few more weeks of carted food, want to stop for one of those mochachino...thingies?" He gave up on proper pronunciation and exerted a genuine smile from his female counterpart, a jolly expression barely lingering under the surface. Her perpetual high spirits were contagious, even if he didn't fully understand their origin. The only time he was in l-o-v-e he was consistently miserable, not that he wished to divulge this bit of information to the girl who refused to acknowledge her mushy-gushy feelings as of yet.

"I'd love to, mister Kent. But if you can't pronounce it, I'm not sure if you really want it in your system." She informed him, keeping her own as he walked a bit too briskly for her taste.

"Yeah, I've got simple tastes." He grinned, knowing that he was feeding into the corn-fed country boy stereotype and just not caring.

"Well hold on there, cowboy, I'm not sure I'm up to the workout." Her admittedly short legs were straining to keep in stride with Clark's, and he instantly slowed. "You in a rush, got a hot date?" She nudged him, playful smile somewhat detached as she realized that Clark was obviously apprehensive. She reached for his elbow, concern etched in her face. "What is it?"

His acute senses were piqued to Chloe's confusion. What sort of meteor-stalker would be stupid enough to follow him in broad daylight, unless they had a death wish? He had a definite reputation with the freaks for being unbeatable, and after years of being attacked and challenged she thought that they had, for the most part, realized that their attempts were in vain.

"We're being followed." Due to his conspicuous and animal-like tenseness this came as no shock to Chloe.

What was it this time? What intergalactic bad guy thought that he'd have a figurative pissing contest with the man of steel? She quickly surveyed their surroundings, making sure that if a scene were to be made no credible witnesses could vouch for an 'epic' comic book battle. All of these years of precaution and costume creating could not be in vain, and Chloe would not allow them to be construed as such.

"Where?" She questioned, continuing to meander as inconspicuously as possible.

Clark's eyes widened and he relaxed his shoulders, taking Chloe's example and acting as though nothing were wrong. "The car on the street corner." Chloe frowned, in was not a very villainous course of action to stalk you prey via a beat up jalopy...a bit too unassuming when her mind was put to it. But how is one to premeditate being followed, especially when her dealings were as legal as they had ever been? The pair turned a corner and the instant they were out of sight, Clark revved up his superpowers and hightailed it; arguably one of his biggest flaws was the combination of his curiosity and urge to do right by the world.

It only took a collective three seconds of nail-biting silence for Chloe's reverie to be broken with the not-so-distant shattering of a rather heavy object, followed by abrasive shouting. Chloe whirled around swiftly, sprinting (against her better judgment) to the area of argument, instantly setting her eyes on the lean and haggard giant billowing at Clark, who was holding his own and yelling directly back in such a manner that the dialog was impossible to comprehend. Her brow furrowed as she glanced back and forth from Clark to the stranger, instantly certain of his 'normalcy.'

"What the hell..." The question she had yet to phrase was answered as Clark frantically gesticulated to the ground, where what used to be a camera lay in shambles, expensive by the looks of it. Something clicked as she fixated on the man's face, unassuming car and pricey electronics, as well as the circles that haunted his eyes synonymous with stakeouts and coffee overdoses. The bastard was a PI, a man after her own initial heart, and currently the subject of much berating.

"You broke my goddamn Nikon, you...boor!" He screeched, any and all assumptions about his professional candor instantly dismissed.

Clark glowered, his rage twisting his boyish face and rendering him speechless, leaving Chloe in charge of any demands. "Who hired you, and why are you following him?" She asked, more accustomed to the nosy, obnoxious obtrusiveness and brute willpower surrounding those who are paid to act on their curiosity. The man's bloodshot eyes darted from Clark's to Chloe's face in something that one could only perceive as confusion.

"Him? I, well, I wasn't hired to follow him, he just happens to follow you around, and have a penchant for destroying my noninsured recording devices!" His pitch hit an all time shrill-factor, bringing a tangible wince to Chloe's face and an expression of alarmed bemusement to Clark's, a sharp contrast to the flitting fury previously displayed.

"Who wanted you to follow me?" She asked, incapable of concealing her very evident displeasure and unrestrained wonderment.

The man was losing steam in her esteem quickly, easy to irritate and provoke. "Who do you think? Your big bad boyfriend." It took all the restraint in Chloe's possession to avoid seeking Clark's eyes, well aware of the knowing and patronizing knowledge that would dwell there. Her dubiety was quickly replaced with twisting anger, the kind that could not go unacknowledged...for long.

Cliffie, I'm evil, I know!