I know the story doesn't really have a plot at the moment, or my not seem like it does...i'm just attempting to get the chlex going and i have to say i didn't realise how difficult it was going to be - i've spent at least a week or two on this chapter so at least it's a little longer than the usual ones, but you'll probably read it in like two minutes and think 'that wasn't very long' lol...but i hope you like it. Keep your reviews coming in, i love hearing your thoughts...
Enjoy...
glo xxx
POV: Chloe
I know she may have not had any friends, but it's practically empty out here. All in all, three people; me, Mrs Newton and the priest conducting the funeral. I look at Mrs Newton lightly sobbing into her tissue, while all I can think about is the fact Mr Newton didn't turn up. That's pretty mean. Georgina was his daughter – maybe not flesh and blood, she was adopted after all, but daughter either way. He must've cared about her, then the words hit me, ' all I wanted was someone to love me', some her last words. I guess she never really experienced love. Well, that makes two of us. But she barely even got that unconditional love from her family. And I feel strangely sympathetic even though she was reason I was held hostage in hospital for three days, but I'll let it slide. Then I think back; she thought she was getting love from Lex. Well those two words shouldn't be in the same sentence… This is bad, and disrespectful, I'm at a funeral.
Once it's over and Georgina's body is safely buried, Mrs Newton dries her tears and walks toward me. Squeezing my hands, she says,
"Thanks for coming, dear. I know Georgina would have been pleased that you came," she looks at me sincerely with wells of tears in her eyes waiting to fall, "and she's sorry. She didn't mean to hurt you. I know you were only looking out for her…trying to stop her from…" she pauses, tears beginning to fall
"Mrs Newton, don't worry about it," I reply whilst giving her a hug. It seems she doesn't know the full details of what happened that day, but it's not the time or place to discuss the fact that her adopted daughter was a psychopath. I keep quiet, holding her.
"Lex Luthor was very generous, especially in these circumstances," she says through the sobs, "that beautiful wreath he sent. I don't know why she…"
I felt so guilty not telling Mrs Newton the truth, but would it have helped matters? Probably not, well that's what I keep telling myself. Still in my funeral-wear, I'm sitting in the Talon having one of my many daily cups of coffee. Whilst taking a sip, I stare at Georgina's diary. I sat in my car for a full three minutes debating whether or not I should've handed it to Mrs Newton – I'm sure she would've appreciated it, but I don't know what's written in it. I wanted to respect Georgina's privacy. Suddenly, instinct causes me to look up and see the 'happy couple' outside giving each other a goodbye kiss. I'm jealous I'll admit it. Every day in Smallville I've seen Clark look at Lana with affection, and even after all these years I still feel a pang in my heart. Now Lana's walking off down the street, and Clark is watching her, turning around he notices me and waves. He's coming in so I move the diary and rest my arms on top.
"Are you okay?" he asks taking the seat across from me.
"I'm fine. How are you and Lana working out?" immediately this question has sparked that cute Clark Kent smile. He can't contain himself. It's moments like this I wish we weren't friends.
"Good…great. It's like…"
"A dream come true?" I finish.
"Yeah, exactly. How did you know?" he actually seems genuinely surprised. Sometimes I wonder about Clark…
"Clark, you've liked Lana forever."
POV: LexTwirling my glass of whiskey between my fingers I silently wonder about 'the right thing'. For so long I was searching for what was right, but I always got caught up in my own spoilt wants. And I keep paying for it. I lean back in my chair and sigh at the sound of knocking.
"Come in," I say, scowling at the door only to be greeted by the fresh face of Chloe Sullivan in a vision of black. It's obvious; she must've been to Gwen's funeral. I straighten up and put my glass on a far side of my desk.
"Good evening, Lex," she says. In her last few visits she's been less rude to me. She continues to roll her eyes at my comments but it seems she's warming to me, maybe?
"Take a seat. What can I do for you Chloe?" I ask, keeping my gaze on her while she takes a seat in front of me. She relaxes and places a leather-bound book along with a clutch bag on her lap.
"Mrs Newton loved the wreath. She said it was very generous of you."
"Is that all?"
"You were going to go weren't you? And don't bother lying to me," at this remark I can't help but stare at Chloe with a half-smirk.
"Miss Sullivan, you certainly have a writer's charm," she opens her mouth – I stop her with my hand, "Chloe, tell me, where would my place be at the funeral of a girl who attempted to kill me?"
"You must've realised by now that Georgina wasn't evil, just jealous."
"It doesn't matter. Something came up."
She glances at my whiskey, "I can see that. I think it's called the urge to become an alcoholic." I don't need to take this from some high school reporter. She wouldn't understand. Journalists are too crude to understand real life. After a short pause she says, "Lex, it's perfectly human to feel compassion even if she tried to kill you," I look at her and feel admiration for Chloe. I've always known there was something unique about her, and yet I can't respond to her though I want to.
"I'm hungry, would you like to join me for dinner?" She's relatively shocked, and I like the having the upper hand for once instead of the usual battle, "how does steak sound?"
Back on the ball, she replies with, "I'd settle for a cheeseburger." I chuckle whilst she just smiles and I search my trouser pocket for my mobile.
Entering the restaurant, I follow the waiter to our reserved table in a quieter section of the restaurant and upon arrival, the waiter takes our coats and her beauty instantly stuns me. She bends forwards to sit, flashing fleshy cleavage in her little black dress. Now I'm staring, and the slight redness in her cheeks tells me she's noticed. I focus my eyes to the tablecloth and pick up a menu,
"Would you like a drink?" I ask, only not to be answered, as when I glance over our young waiter seems to be carefully placing her napkin on her lap.
Forty minutes into the meal we've barely spoken, and I'm worrying if this was a good idea. Maybe it was a foolish to think she'd enjoy spending time with me. I watch her silently, slowly making it more obvious and yet she doesn't notice. Or maybe she doesn't care. Her gaze switches from her plate to the waiter. I'm beginning to get anxious,
"I could get you both a private table, or would you rather a room?" Her reaction is less than expected; she continues with her meal and takes her time to answer with,
"Would you?" she asks without looking directly at me.
"If that's what you want. He's definitely interested."
"What would Lex Luthor playboy extraordinaire know about relationships?"
"The look you're sharing across tables is nothing close to a relationship. Anyway, what happened to the unrequited love for a best friend?" Now I've got her attention. But it's not the good kind.
"Why are you even interested?" she throws at me.
"I apologize, it's none of my business."
"Damn right, it's none of your business," she says coming to a complete halt. For a long moment, we only stare at each other.
"Would you care for desert? How about something with chocolate – all women love chocolate."
"Don't assume I'm like every other woman you've been with," she replies with a small smile.
"Trust me, I won't ever make that mistake," I say smirking.
The next few minutes, we bask in comfortable silence. Chloe continues to make eyes at the waiter from afar, snapping out of a trance when I call him over to order two chocolate soufflé's. He seems nervous, which I like. It's always a good thing to make others feel inferior to you, well that's what dads been telling me for years. He rushes off in a hurry and I'm left with Chloe fixated to the cosy dance floor on the busier side of the restaurant.
"How about a dance?"
"Are you sure you want to dance?" she replies, "Do you even know how to dance?"
"I took some lessons when I was growing up – something to do with being a spoilt rich kid. You have to spend every minute of your day being tutored."
She gives me a smile before getting up and holding her hand out to me, "may I have this dance?"
I can't contain my laughter; I've never seen a woman do something so unusual. I look down at her hand; compose myself, and reply, "Of course."
She leads me to the edge of the dance floor where she turns to face me. Getting in position, I slip my hands around her waist stroking the fabric of her dress, and the flesh beneath it. Our bodies are close, and with my hand resting on her back I can feel the rise and fall of her breathing. Her arms fall around my neck and we begin to sway to the rhythm of the live band.
"You're not that bad at this," she says.
"A compliment? You shouldn't give them away so easily."
Chloe giggles lightly before resting her head on my chest.
Back at our table, I'm completely relieved that Chloe looks like she's having a good time.
"Are you enjoying desert?" I ask.
"It's absolutely delicious. And the cream…yum."
I just want to laugh she can be so cute. It's a relief to have dinner with a woman who didn't complain about the food, or confuse the waiters with a complicated order of a simple dish because she wasn't allowed to eat wheat or dairy.
"Lex," I immediately snap out of my thoughts, "so what do you think about this waiter?" hearing this question annoys me. And I instinctively glare at him momentarily.
"It depends, do you want the truth or could you live with a lie?"
"I completely value your opinion either way."
POV: ChloeLex's private helicopter drops us off outside the mansion, and it suddenly dawns on me how late it is. I should've called my dad. He might be worried about where I was, but then again, I have stayed in the torch office until later hours than this. He probably just assumed that I was working late. We head up to the study where I left my things. Lex opens the door like a gentleman, allowing me in first and then following. My clutch bag and Georgina's diary are neatly positioned on his desk. I walk round, while he leans on the front pocketing his hands into his jacket.
"Thank you. It's not often that I get to share my dinner with someone."
"Do you mean 'someone' you're not trying to sleep with?" I reply, without a thought. I move back round to face him. For a second he looks hurt, but then his usual cold shell drops, "sorry about that, you know old habits and all that."
"I understand," he says. The real Lex Luthor is back, and all because I couldn't keep my smart mouth shut. There's no way to redeem myself now. I walk toward him and say, "goodnight Lex," before leaning in to lightly peck him on the cheek, "and thanks for dinner," I say and walk away.
"Goodnight Chloe,"
Heading for the door, I notice that I'm still carrying Georgina's diary. I've gotten so caught up in Lex and dinner that I completely forgot about giving him the diary. Hand on the doorknob I stop and look around at Lex focused on the floor.
"I forgot," I say retracing my steps, "This is Georgina's diary. I wanted to give this to you."