YAY UPDATES!
Chapter 3 is a'coming! After suffering through painfully boring family parties and an unfortunate, though brief, case of writer's block, "Eris" is back just in time for the new year!
--Special thanks toMadDogLane and ImKindaOffBalance for the reviews
MadDogLane: LOL about Lana, and Clois will come in time
FAIR WARNING!- Zero action in this chapter...again
FAIR WARNING 2!- This is a Lex-less, Lois-less chapter. Actually, the only characters in this chapter are Clark, Lana, and Chloe
OK! Sit back and enjoy the show!
Chapter 3: If I Loved You (For the B'Way Fans out there, yes that is a song from Carousel, and again, I own it not)
Clark Kent was usually very good at hiding his nerves. On the outside he appeared calm, cool, and collected, but on the inside, he felt like he was about to burst and run home as fast as he possibly could. Stepping into the Talon, he tried to gather his composure. OK, break it to her gently . . . 'Lana, I know that we've had our differences, but . . . ' God that sucks. OK I'll just wing it . . . Here she comes. "Hey Lana."
Lana ignored Clark, trying her best to get away from him by retreating behind the counter, pretending to count the money in the register.
Oh God, she's still angry today . . . Why the hell is she angry! She has no idea what telling her the truth would lead to! She makes me so MAD sometimes . . . Keep it cool- don't get angry, the last thing you want to do is start shooting flames all over the Talon . . . although one ray strategically aimed at her head would . . . OK stop it, Kent, that's not nice . . . but it would sure solve my Lana problems. "Um Lana . . . I think we need to talk about some things . . . uh, alone preferably. When is your shift over?"
"Oh, right now, actually. What is it you wanted to talk about?" said Lana. She took off her apron and led Clark upstairs to the spare apartment.
"Lana, I've been thinking about our relationship and-"
"Yea, me too, Clark, and I'm gonna reaffirm what I said last night. If you love me as much as you say you do, why do you have such a hard time opening up to me?" Lana interrupted.
Why does she have to make this so friggin hard? "Lana, you don't understand. This is much more complicated than you're making it out to be. I want you to lay off a little-"
"Do you love me, Clark?"
Do I love her? Do I LOVE HER? The question echoed over and over again in Clark's mind. He expected to take one look into Lana's sparkling brown eyes and, once again, fall victim to her charm, tell Lana how much he cared for her, tell her everything. But that day, Clark looked into her eyes, and saw no playful glimmer, felt no butterflies in his stomach, and sensed no feeling of attraction. He simply saw Lana, truly saw her for the first time, with all her faults, and felt only Lana's stare and expectation for an answer.
"I...I don't" said Clark. Lana stood there dumbfounded. The same boy she thought she had wrapped around her finger had just dumped her! She huffed and puffed in anger and shock.
"Goodbye, Lana," said Clark, barely audibly, as he turned his back on Lana Lang forever.
Chloe Sullivan was smart. Not book smart, or "valedictorian" smart, but the kind of smart where she was able to observe everything around her, and separate fiction from fact from possible headlines for her next story. This lovely little talent is what made Chloe an ace reporter. She knew bull$hit when she saw it, and right now, the murder of Lionel Luthor was screaming "investigate me!" at the top of its lungs. Now hold on a second . . . Lionel Luthor, head of the most influential company in the nation and holder of the "most frequently pictured in The Daily Planet" title was MURDERED, yet I haven't seen a hint of an investigation in any newspaper or broadcast except one measly article in the paper yesterday! ...Am I the only one who sees something wrong here?
Chloe pulled into the Kent's driveway, where Clark was playing a game of extreme basketball with himself. It was Chloe's nickname for Clark's unique way of shooting hoops- from 100 feet away. "Seriously, Clark, try to be a little more discreet with your powers. I mean, you're breaking every basketball world record and defying the basic laws of human limitation in plain sight. I think it would be, at the very least, awkward to explain to your parents that you were discovered by Smallville's finest UFO hunters in your own backyard."
"Chloe, shut up," muttered Clark.
"OK, somebody's in a bad mood this morning. Is this still about the date from hell the other day?"
"No, that's over. I dumped Lana yesterday. I feel kind of bad, but I'm actually ok with being single again. I'm past my Lana-lusting phase."
Yes, yes, YES! Thought Chloe. Ugh, who am I kidding? . . . I had my shot with Clark and I blew it. But still, it feels kinda good that Lana couldn't have Clark either . . . "So, what's your problem then?"
"I'm just in a bad mood, I guess. You get really worn out keeping this secret, and the whole deal with Lana didn't help. I'll be ok," Clark said, seeing the concerned look on Chloe's face.
"Good, because I can't have you moping while you're helping me out with a new case that, well, captured my interest."
"You always have something up your sleeve, don't you? OK, what goose chase are you sending me on today?" Clark asked.
Chloe smiled. "None other than the unsolved mystery that is the murder of Lionel Luthor! And it's far from a goose chase- the richest man in Metropolis is killed, and there isn't even a hint of an investigation, not even a new suspect! This is the story of a lifetime! This can make or break our careers!"
"Our careers? Chloe, I don't know if I even want to be a journalist."
"Well, for somebody who doesn't want to be a journalist, you are certainly very good at it, not to mention that you've been my assistant on all of my investigative missions since 9th grade. Just picture this: 'The Sullivan-Kent team'. I the witty, brave, driven, well-connected leader and you my super strong alien assistant!" Chloe exclaimed.
"Why am I the assistant?"
"We'll iron out the details later. But you are helping me with this! Now, let's just get started! Meet me tomorrow at my dorm. We're checking out the crime scene- early, when nobody's around. Is 4:30 good? Great." Chloe stated quickly, not wasting a moment.
"Chloe, I-"
"Oh, and could you try to wear something black? Red plaid flannel is too bright, considering that we're trying to go unnoticed- and your fashion sense just screams 'outsider' compared to what people wear in the city. Got it? Good. OK, 4:30, remember. See ya!" Chloe rambled, as she climbed into her car and sped off, leaving Clark standing in the driveway, slightly confused, still trying to process what Chloe had said in her rush, and making a mental note to raid his father's closet for something to wear tomorrow.
