Just Shut Up Already!
Disclaimer: Somebody else owns Smallville. But I do own the WB if anybody wants to buy some stock. No? What a shocker!
Summary: The author of the story tries not to be so serious because it gives her headaches. Some checklists are made, characters that viewers know and love are bashed, and somebody abandons all of her work and responsibilities to makes a piece of this world feel a little less angry.
A/N: That last chapter seemed to serious and out there for my liking and I may change it, depending on how lazy I am. I have written this chapter way before I intend on uploading it. In fact the last two chapters were all written on this very same night. It's 11:12 PM and if in the morning this all reads like rubbish it will be deleted and nobody will ever read these ramblings.
It's five o'clock and I'm sitting in The Talon. I'm not doing homework. I'm not working on an article. I'm not doing anything that can't be put off until tomorrow. Suddenly I realize that my whole life I've had a terrible headache, but never knew it because it has always been there.
Right now, all I'm doing is sipping a cup of Joe and making a checklist. I have things that I want to do and questions that I want answered. One, find a way to visit Mom. I don't care how crazy she is. I don't care if she thinks I'm a large yellow chicken. I need to see her. I'll cluck and flap my arms like wings if need be.
Two, Find out who wants me dead. Possibly before Friday.
Three, Find out if Lionel Luthor is even a fraction of the reason that somebody wants me dead. If so, have him arrested again. If not, make up something to have him arrested for.
"Chloe," Lex says, sneaking up on me and my laptop.
"Lex, what a surprise." Not. "What brings you here? Besides that fact that you own the place?"
He chuckles. "I just got back from the school," Four, find out what 'business' Lex has at the school. Screw what I said before, I want to know. "and I heard that you and Clark put on quite the show."
"Oh yeah? And who told you that?"
"Lana," he says. "I don't know what is wrong with those teachers at that school of yours. She looks swamped with work. She was in The Torch office, her hair messed up, hunched over the computer, mumbling something about a deadline. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you two had a body switch or something."
I smirk. Sometimes life slaps you in the face and sometimes life gives you a nice visual of Lana Lang getting what she deserves.
Lex sits in front of me. "Do you feel like talking?"
"About what?" I ask.
Lex looks disappointed. "About my father's visit to you."
"His visit…" What is he talking about?
"At Bob's mechanics."
"Oh yeah. I almost forgot." I say.
"Almost forgot? It happened yesterday night."
"It did? I coulda sworn that it was longer then that."
I have no time for banter. Five, find out why Jason winked at me.
"Chloe, you'd tell me if my father was bothering you, wouldn't you?"
No. "Of course."
"Good."
Six, find Miss LeMonte a man. Then she'll finally have the heart to give me an 'A'.
"I enjoyed our conversation yesterday. It's good to get some things off my chest," he says. He's still talking. Here comes that headache. Jeez, Lex, get over it. That was like six chapters ago. "So, I do think that it would be best if you did the same."
"What do you want to know?"
"I don't want to know anything." Who does he think he's kidding? "I just don't want you to feel like you're trapped in a world where everything you think and feel has to stay inside."
Yesterday, or even a couple of hours ago, I would have spilled my guts. I would have wept about how cruel life has been to me. I would cry about how, even as an only child I'm still the ignored child in my home. Especially if Lana or Lois are over. I would explain that sometimes I have daydreams about the times my dad would hold me in his arms and say that everything was going to be okay. Even if in those times we were both in mortal danger, it was still better then the bitter silence in the house since I confronted him about not telling me about Mom.
I would tell him that no matter how hard I try, I can't get over Clark. I can think about all the times he has let me down, but in my heart I know that he may be the only man I will ever love.
I would tell him that I don't think as much about my future as a journalist, because I'm more worried about if I'm going to have a future.
But I don't say any of this stuff. I'm a changed girl. I refuse to feel sorry for myself anymore.
Seven, find out what happened in the two hours that made Clark change from the jerk who makes me work on The Torch practically alone, to the guy who wants to fly me off of the cliff of despair that I am currently standing on, and land me to safety.
Wow that sounded a lot like that Jackie girl's poem.
"I don't feel like that anymore, Lex. You're a couple hours too late for that. So ask me what you want to know and I'll tell you. I've got no time for you to try to trick me into saying what you want to hear without actually asking. So get on with it."
"I wasn't trying to…" He sighs and concedes. "What did my father say to you yesterday?"
Hmm… what a surprise.
"He wants redemption."
"Redemption?"
"He wants my to say that I forgive him for all of his terrible crimes. I won't. I told him as much and then we parted ways."
Lex stands up from the table and freezes. He's thinking. I have no idea if I can continue my work or if I should wait for him to finish. Some people (like myself) can think and do other things at the same time, but not in this case. When a Luthor has a thought, the world freezes.
"Thank you, Chloe," he says, finally. If he had a hat, he would have tipped it, but he doesn't have a hat, so he nods at me and leaves.
That is just what I imagined a Luthor hissy fit to be like.
Eight, get your hair died brown. I hear it's the fad. And all the guys in the stupid town are obsessed with brunettes. In every other place in the world, blondes are a man's biggest fantasy. But not in Chloe Sullivan's world.
I look at my watch. I've still got four and a half-hours before I'm expected home. But this week I'm throwing all of my responsibilities out the window. I'll make it an even five.