AUTHOR: Nymph Du Pave
FANDOM: Smallville
PAIRING: Lex Luthor/Clark Kent, hints of a few others
RATING: PG-13
AUTHOR'S EMAIL: nymph_du_pave@hotmail.com
FEEDBACK: Please, tell me what you think; I'm only a little crazy without input.
Chapter Three
Gained and Lost
Lex woke instantly and looked up. It was morning. The sun shined through the curtains in slivers and Sam stood above him with one eyebrow raised.
"What?" he asked. Sam looked down and he followed suit. Chloe was stretched out on the couch with him. Her head was in his lap. "Oh."
"Yes, sir. This is Miss Chloe Sullivan?"
"Yeah. She was having a bad night."
Sam nodded. "I remember. Her father is on the phone now."
That was a surprise. "She left a note?"
"Pardon?"
"How does Gabe know she's here?"
"He doesn't sir. He's calling in to tell you he can't go to work today. He has to go out to look for his daughter."
Lex looked down at Chloe, finally looking at peace. "Oh."
"Yes."
"Oops."
"He said that he's called all her friends and her friends' parents. They're all saying that they haven't seen her."
"Why's he so worried though?" asked Lex, trying to move Chloe without waking her up. "She's usually a little, well, up-and-at-em."
"Because she usually eats breakfast with him and she's not there."
He scooted out from under her and stood. "Alright, you wake her up and I'll go explain to Gabe that she's here."
"May I make a suggestion, sir?"
"Yeah."
"Let Miss Sullivan do the explaining. I'm sure her father would rather talk to her than you."
Lex thought about that for a moment. "Right. Well, you wake her up. I have to pee."
He made his way to and from the bathroom in under three minutes. On his way to find Sam he passed Chloe who was trying to explain to her father that she was fine and, yes, Lex is a friend.
Chloe actually hadn't told him much at all last night, skimping on the details, which had made it hard for him to help. She kept insisting that everything was a mess and that she wasn't sure things would ever be the same between her and Clark.
He gave her arm a squeeze of encouragement and went to find Sam.
Lex had reassured her that, if anything, Clark was one of the most forgiving souls there was and that, above all, Clark was a great friend. She'd looked at him funny then and his gut had tightened. It was like she could see his love for Clark, like she knew he dreamt about the farmboy, wanted to touch him, wanted to start all over again and not love him but knew it was impossible. Like she could see that Clark was all Lex Luthor ever truly wanted and, therefore, was the one thing he would never really have.
Then she had closed her eyes and curled into him, saying that maybe he was right. She'd fallen asleep against him. It felt good, he'd decided then, to be needed. To be liked as a friend and entrusted by someone other than Clark. To have the kind of platonic touching and embracing that other people had with friends and family. He hoped that this was not a once in a lifetime deal. He liked Chloe, honestly and openly, and would cherish any friendship that the two of them could have together.
He found Sam in the kitchen getting his breakfast from Jackson Fairway, the assistant cook.
"Thanks, Sam."
"Absolutely, sir." It still amazed Lex, who had known Sam for all his twenty-one years, that the man was never improper, never less than regal, and was as American as the most patriotic redneck in the south. "Oh, and before I forget, Master Lex." He put his breakfast down and reached inside his suit. "This is what Mister Clark brought around yesterday."
It was a purple piece of paper. Folded.
Lavender really, he thought, his throat constricting with emotion. Oh, no, no, no.
Sam frowned. "Sir, is something the matter? You're paler than usual."
Smart ass.
"No, of course not." He snatched the paper from Loomis and cursed himself for discarding it in a public place. He wasn't sure how Clark had come across it, but God, it was all his fault.
Damn it. How stupid could you be?
"I gotta get going," came Chloe's voice from behind. He tucked the poem under his tee and into his sweatpants, ignoring a strange look from Sam. He turned around tying his crimson robe tight around his waist.
"Let me walk you out." He gave her a calm, confident smile that didn't penetrate any deeper than his lips.
+_+_+_+_+
"Pete has decided to get well and truly drunk," he muttered then giggled. "Not just plastered, but unable-to-move drunk."
He tried to stand up to climb down from the tree house to get the rest of the alcohol. The world swayed and he fell down on his ass, hard. He giggled again. "Too late."
Since Thursday, it had taken him about a week to realize that he had absolutely no one. Not necessarily to talk to about more recent development, but just to hang out with. To talk with about anything. He'd become so solely connected with Chloe and Clark that, really, he had stopped hanging out with anyone else. He was even an outcast in the sports he played. His teammates respected him as a player, but it never went any further than that.
He plopped back down onto his back and tried to block out all the thoughts that were coming into his weary brain. Because he was drunk, his defenses were down and he couldn't help it.
Blonde hair, pearly whites and a brilliant, heart-stopping smile. He could not stop himself from smiling. She'd always managed to brighten his day with the hugs, the witty comments, the fun adventures and obsessive editorials. He'd been in love with her the moment he saw her. She'd come into school late in the first semester and had nervously wandered into his third period AS math. She looked around the room and while most people just stared or gave weak, disinterested smiles when they were anything but, Pete gave a wide grin and an enthusiastic nod, thinking he'd found another girl to chase in his spare time.
Then she grinned back at him.
Pete stared up that the sunlight, filtered through the branches and peeking through the cracks in the wood above him. Things had never been the same. Since her next two classes were his, he'd flirted with her the rest of the day, then introduced her to Clark on the bus home. It was when he saw her eyes light up and her cheeks flush when he realized that his best friend was the one that the girl he was failing for wanted.
That had really sucked.
And to be the second guy, the friend to turn to, the guy that took the place of a best girl friend… That blew too. It was like she'd never considered him a possibility. He sometimes wished that there was some way that he could have kept her to himself, kept her a secret from Clark.
He knew everything about Chloe. Her favorite clothes, her favorite bands and articles. What actors and writers she adored. He knew what she looked like making her first snow angel at eleven, what she looked like helping the Kents in the field at thirteen, what she looked like in her first bikini. He knew what her eyes looked like while she was standing in front of an open night sky, and what her tipsiest giggles sounded like.
He loved her.
And now, he didn't want to.
So many years of loving her, of wanting her, of dreaming about her and wishing that he could have her for the rest of his life and now… Now it was gone. Not the love, but the want for the love. She wasn't the same person that he thought she was. She'd changed and he should have admitted it to himself the moment he saw Clark's adoption records on her computer. She was becoming something that he feared he could not love.
But how does a person go five years wanting one single thing and then find out that everything has changed? Suddenly what you thought would be the best, most amazing thing in the world was not going to happen. The world had changed.
He damned himself for never taking the chance. At least then Chloe would have known how he felt. Maybe then she would have looked at him as an option instead of everything being Clark, Clark, Clark.
And wasn't that what happened with Justin? All he really did was show a keen interest in Chloe. Couldn't that have worked for Pete? And to think, he wasn't even psychotic.
They had kissed. He hadn't forgotten. It came back into his mind, soft and warm and so very Chloe. How long had he wondered what kind of mess they'd make together? Right then his questions had been answered and for roughly half an hour, she was his. She was for him and him only. He could see them together like they were before, only this was more than just friendship. Now they kissed and loved and even fondled a tiny bit. They would soon be making out under the tables of the Torch's headquarters. They would be getting hot and heavy on his couch, on hers. They'd make love on a night that her father had to work, in her bed, in her backyard, in her shower, in her kitchen. Anywhere he could please her and anywhere he would take her. They were meant to be. They were meant to cuddle and lie in bed late at night reading.
How was he supposed to get over that?
"How do I get over it?" He laughed harshly and, even drunk out
of his mind, didn't like the sound. "Drink yourself stupid.
That's what I'll do."
To be continued...