A/N: they actually get to talk in this one! They develop a bit of a friendship, but before I give the whole plot away, read on! And don't forget to review!
**********
The headlines read, TORNADO TOUCHES DOWN NEAR SMALLVILLE. The article went further into describing the many farms that were ravaged, the narrowly missed town, and, Chloe's least favourite part, how one heroic Clark Kent ran to the rescue of poor Lana Lang, who was caught outside in the midst of the tornado. Not mentioning of course, the fact that he had left his distraught best friend alone at the dance to bawl and reprimand herself incoherently as she drove home, her eyes barely able to see through her tears.
*cause that would ruin my hard ass bitch rep.* She stared at her computer screen with growing abhorrence. The article was strictly facts, none of her usual style and flair, when it was the biggest story in the issue. She pushed her rolling chair away from the desk with enthusiasm, walked over to the coffee machine only to find that the last time she had brewed the pot had to have been about four hours ago, because it was the same thickness of molasses. She dumped her cup and went over to the boom box on the corner of the table, turning it up loud hoping to drown her revulsion and her sadness in the noise that spilled from the speakers. It was some loud band that reminded her of Korn, and although she had no taste in that crap, welcomed it for its tortured sound.
*self pity, thy name is Chloe Sullivan.* she thought as she silently went about making a new batch of coffee.
She hadn't spoken to Clark at all in past week. She wasn't hostile, no, her method was planned avoidance. He called, she was in the shower, in town, sleeping, researching some new meteor phenomenon, or anything else her dad could possibly think of.
She knew Clark knew exactly what she was doing. It'd been the same since the seventh grade. She could never bring herself to confront him, she'd just bawl, and that was so not Chloe, she'd assure herself.
He came over once, and she'd hid in the closet, making her Dad get the door.
She shook her head.
"I am officially a dork. And a dork slighted in love is not a pretty thing." She said out loud as she poured the water into the coffee machine.
The song changed to Our Lady Peace, Somewhere Out There, and that was when she just let go.
The song was so bittersweet, and as much as Chloe hated to, she cried.
***********
Lex stood in the dark hallway, the door halfway open, watching the blond bustle about restlessly. He was about to ask if he might partake in the coffee she was making when she spoke.
He didn't think she had seen him.
"I am officially a dork. And a dork slighted in love is not a pretty thing." She stated with unusual bitterness. He almost reprimanded her for saying it, when he realized he barely knew her, and she, being Chloe, would probably not be pleased.
The song changed to some alternative melancholy tune, and she started to cry. She didn't cry loudly, he noticed, in fact she didn't make a sound. Only buried her face in her hands and let the tears fall where they may.
Her chest heaved, and she looked like someone had broken her heart in two, when Lex remembered her off hand comment about being slighted in love, shaking his head with the realization that yes, it probably had.
Torn between wanting to get the hell away from the crying woman who made no sound, and wanting to hold the blonde, usually so strong, but now so fragile, he stared. She looked so…lonely.
He was lonely. She was lonely. He tried to remember the last time he'd willingly comforted someone, held them and tried to ease their pain, and found he couldn't remember when that had happened last.
*be a better man* that voice told him. He listened.
**************
Chloe wept silently into her hands. She never cried loudly. When she was little, she felt her Dad would feel bad if he knew she cried, and she rarely could bring herself to bemoan her sad excuse for a life, because her Mother had always said that life was what you made it.
She felt a pair of strong arms come around her shoulders. Not looking up she let herself be held, burying her head into his torso. She thought it was Clark, come to apologize, and she was so lonely that she would have accepted it readily, but it wasn't and she didn't know.
**************
She turned and embraced him in turn, laying her head against his chest, not saying a word. He never thought he'd be doing this, or that she would let him do this.
*she needs this.* he thought, her arms holding his sides tightly, as he felt the warm moisture from her tears through his thin sweater.
He convulsively held her closer, holding in a sigh.
"Shh. It's alright." He whispered.
**************
The arms that held her were gentle. Not asking for any answers or any explanations, just comforting. She felt herself give in, feeling she could be happy, so long as she could be held like this whenever she felt her life start to unravel.
"Shh. It's alright." A voice that was not Clark's whispered.
It was a nice voice. Deep and rumbly like low thunder, filled with emotion. It sounded a little like Lex Luthor.
She took a step back, looking up; her eyes were a deep drowning blue, the skin around them pink from crying.
"Oh my." She managed, dropping her arms suddenly. He, of course, did the same, obviously not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable in his presence, and yet, utterly failing to do so.
*this is what comes from hugging people without looking at them. They turn out to be Lex Luthor* she reprimanded silently
"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, taking residence on the edge of the table. "You looked like you could use it," he added, referring to the hug.
She looked down at her feet, hoping to look as if there was something very interesting on the top of her shoe, failing miserably.
"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I'll just go-"
"Thanks." She said softly, without looking up.
"It's not every day I get hold beautiful women." He said with a smirk, hoping to get one of her famous thousand watt smiles out of her.
She gave him a small smile, barely a shadow of her usual, but he'd take what he could get.
"Liar," She snorted, rubbing her eyes. "But your smooth, I'll give you that,"
**************
He was a bit taken aback at the comment, but found her frankness refreshing. Smirking again and doing the patent eye brow raise, he asked,
"How do you know I'm lying?"
"You got to be kidding me." She stated, shaking her head and moving to her rolling chair.
"You wound, Miss Sullivan." He feigned hurt.
She snorted and watched the coffee percolate. *Very ladylike Chloe. I'm sure he thinks you are a fabulous model of womanhood now.*
"Come on, Mr. Luthor," She emphasized the Mr. Luthor, just as he had the Miss Sullivan, "You're most likely number three on this year's most eligible bachelors list."
"Only three?" he questioned, slightly shocked. He measured himself a little higher on the scale than that.
"I mean, Classy billionaire, debonair, charming, but you most likely haven't had a steady girlfriend for at least three years, which knocks you out of the number one position, simply because of fear of commitment, and your bald, which knocks you out of second place." She said. Then, obviously realizing she had just insulted him by calling him bald, she added, "Not that being bald is a bad thing…in fact," becoming some what more confident, "A lot of women have a thing for bald men."
He almost laughed. He knew he was bald. He couldn't help it. So, to see the best of a bad situation, he had long ago decided to put up with the cracks and take the women who went for that sort of thing.
"I always think of it as a plus," he stated, pouring the coffee into two Styrofoam cups.
"You think I'm Charming?" he asked, curious.
"well, I mean, you've got that…" she was blushing now, and smiling, "what I mean to say is, you know how to, umm…well…" she took the coffee he held out to her, "You know how to say things." And she remembered how he had held her, and blushed even more.
This was her father's boss!
"How's you evil father?" she asked snarkily. She did not like to get flustered. She did not like to hug her father's charming boss. *liar. You do too!* her little voice said.
"Well, my evil father is stabilized." He wasn't perturbed at her for saying that. Hell, he thought it often enough anyways, and she had more reason than most. Which reminded him,
"And I've made a deal with him to keep the plant open."
"WHAT?" Chloe questioned, surprised.
"Yeah, some pretty hard negotiating." He said.
She sat back and stared.
"Does my dad know?" She asked.
"Considering the fact I came here right after I closed it, no, you're the first." He said.
"That reminds me, Lex, why are you here?" She asked.
"I can't remember." His grey eyes caught at her heart, and she took a sharp breath.
*yeah. So much for feminism and nothing past friendship. I never noticed how wonderful his eyes were before…*
"By the way, why were you crying?"
"Momentary lapse into self pity. It doesn't happen very often."
"Who made you cry?" he pried, looking at her intently with his grey eyes.
"Does it matter?" She asked.
"Yes. They obviously need to get some serious lessons in how to treat a lady."
She laughed, and then began to sniffle a little.
"No, he doesn't. That's the whole thing; he did this to me because he was only saving some other girl."
"Does that other girl happen to be one Lana Lang?" he questioned softly, tilting his head to one side, trying to see her face, since she turned away.
"Yes." She whispered.
"And does that guy happen to be Clark Kent?"
"Yes," she breathed.
"Idiot." Lex muttered under his breath.
"I always thought so." She stated rather viciously. Lex chuckled. The song changed once again to something from the eighties.
Lex walked over to her computer, and began to read the article, as she began to sing quietly, walking over to the photocopier.
She had a surprisingly nice voice, strong and a little deep. *sexy* he thought before her could stop himself. She was sixteen, and that was not how he should be thinking about his plant manager's daughter.
He watched her with pleasure, as she sang into the end of her pen oblivious to him watching her back as she swayed slightly and checked the photocopier for ink.
She turned suddenly and saw him watching her. She blushed a dark shade of pink and told him,
"So I sing. I like it." *I don't care what you think* her eyes seemed to add.
"I like it too." He said, grinning. She chuckled and smiled at him.
*****************
From their awkward meeting, a silent camaraderie emerged. Chloe found a friend in Lex, someone she could banter with and snark at, someone who would call her on her bluffs and someone who made her sing a good song if it came on the radio, which, frankly, disturbed her slightly, but hey, take it or leave it, and at this point, she'd take what she could.
By the time Lex left the Torch office, He had resolved to come back tomorrow and possibly the next day too. Chloe was more intellectually stimulating than nearly everyone else he had met in the sleepy little town, and he silently wondered as he strolled down the darkened hallways, just why Clark would throw away such a treasure, for Lana.
Not to say that Lana was a bad person, but, let's face it, she wasn't half of Chloe, not even a third. Chloe was like hot cinnamon espresso, while Lana was two day old weak coffee.
He'd have to talk to Clark about his obvious delusional tendencies.
*****************
So far, that's what I got. Sorry for the title change, but what can you do with an angry muse? I myself, am going to have a very long chat with him.