Author's Note: First, I would like to apologize. Lost In Austen was not a movie, it was a miniseries. That was my mistake. I saw it on DVD.

Second, I would like to thank my first reviewer for this story. I hope they see this, because they said they are not likely to read this story, and given their reasoning, I completely understand, but as it was anonymous, I cannot send them a direct thank you to ensure they get it. If somehow this finds its way back to you, anonymous first reviewer, I thank you for stating your honest opinion and want you to know I take no offense to what you said. In fact, I admire you for it. I, personally, have felt the same as you do about many fictional couples, and I would not attempt this little experiment were it not with Chloe, who was an actual love interest of Clark's in many ways. I have often wished for alternate realities could exist, so there could be a Clark for Lana, one for Lois, one for Alicia, and one for Chloe, because I loved all these couples. Also, I do not yet no how the story will end, as I make it up as I go, so while the premise is Chlark, it may not end that way. The characters personalities may take us in another direction. Still, I applaud you for expressing your opinion, and respect your choice, though I wish you could read this note. If somehow you do read it, I would appreciate if you inform me that you have. In any case, here is the next chapter, where the real story begins.

Chapter One

I woke up on a couch, that I did not recognize, in a living room I did not recognize, being stared at by a family I did not recognize. One of them handed me a glass of water, and I took it. I sat up and tried to collect my thoughts as I took slow sips. Memories came flashing back to me. Magic refrigerator, truck, Clark Kent. I looked up at the boy who I now recalled claiming that name. As I examined him, I realized he could not be any older than, well, my age. Clark Kent was Superman, this I knew. But Superman was in his late twenties. He had been in his late twenties, early thirties for the past seventy-one years. He had never been fifteen, or fourteen. I mean, I supposed he had, but only for a scene or a flashback.

He was attractive, though, not that I would expect anything less. He was tall, very tall, and his hair was a deep, rich black. It looked soft too. It was the sort of hair you wished you could just run your fingers through over and over again.

The clothes were a little strange, plaid. I never thought of Superman in plaid. It was either spandex or a boring suit. Okay, so maybe I thought of him without those things a little too, but what can I say, I am a girl with hormones living in the twenty-first century. It is not the most uncommon thing. Still, plaid? But, if he was fourteen, he would still be living in Kansas, farm country, Dorothy, and twisters. Plaid could make sense there. He would certainly draw more attention in a boring suit than in plaid if he was in Kansas. Now, what was the name of his hometown again…

"How are you feeling?" Clark asked me. I sensed I little nervousness in his voice, and I realized it probably had something to do with the fact that the last time he asked me how I was I had passed out.

Let's see, how was I feeling? I had walked through a refrigerator into a fictional world. As far as I knew I had no way to get home, and a younger Superman was tending to my wellbeing. So how was I? Freaked out, excited, shocked, probably insane, possibly asleep in bed. Who knew? I mean, how was I supposed to be.

"Look, um, thank you, really, but I should get going. My dad will be worried." I said as quickly as I could as I rushed toward the door. It probably was not the smartest move, considering I had no other place to stay while I was here, and no clue how long I would be forced to stay, but I was freaking out, and I think I had the right to be.

Wouldn't you be if you were trapped in your favorite story? But then, it was my favorite story, my escape. So maybe I should not be as upset as I am. "Sullivan, you can even make a tragedy out of a fairytale." I said to myself.

"I'm sorry?" I heard a voice and looked up. A tragically beautiful brunette stood before me, looking at me. Then I realized I had said my thought out loud. She must have thought I was talking to her; not an odd assumption since I was basically two feet away from being on top of her.

"Oh, sorry, I was, um, talking to myself." The girl nodded. As I looked a little further, I noticed she was standing in front of another house. She must be Superman's er, Clark's neighbor. Remembering that I still had no place to stay, I decided to try my luck with her. "I'm Chloe. I'm new in town."

"Where are you from?" she asked politely. One easy answer for that.

"Metropolis." I say instantly.

"You're lucky. I would love to have grown up there." I smile. "What brings you to Smallville?"

Smallville. That was it. Wow, Smallville, Metropolis, great story, but the writers did not exactly put much thought into the names of the towns, did they?

"Um, I, my dad, he…" think, Sullivan, think, "he thought that a small-town would be a more conducive learning environment for me." not the best excuse, but it could have been worse.

"Well, I don't know enough about Metropolis's school's to make a comparison, but the crows are happy to welcome you."

I stared at her. Was that some sort of mean girl threat? The crows eating me. I should have known. Pretty girls are always bitches. "The Crows?"

"Smallville High's mascot." She said, confused by my confusion. Oh. I guess I should have known that, if I really had been a transfer student. That is when I realized, technically, I did not exist here, which is really weird when you think about it. I am the one that does not exist. Anyway, I am nothing if not a skilled hacker. I am sure I can create a plausible identity for myself here.

"Right, sorry, still adjusting. In fact, my dad tried to arrange a place for me to stay, you know, with some old college friends of his, before he can get out of his contract and settle here, but it turns out, they don't have the room for me. In fact, they're moving, so I don't actually have a place to stay until my dad comes." I know, it is a little pushy, but what else could I do.

"Well, that stinks. I'm sorry." She said. I waited for that famous down home hospitality to kick in, but apparently, small towns are not as friendly as people think.

"Hey, crazy idea, but, um, do you maybe have a spare room." I know, really, really, really pushy, but I was homeless. What would you do?

"Um" she started. Her face was pensive, "Well, I would have to ask my aunt first, but, I guess, if you really need a place…" she did not finish.

I waited for her to go in and talk to her aunt. The conversation took about three hours, but when those three hours were finally up, I had a place to stay. The guest room of the neighbor's of the Kents.

"Thanks for this. I know it is a little unorthodox, seeing how we barely know one another, but I was seriously desperate. And I promise I will find a way to repay you."

She smiled, "You know what, it's okay. It can actually get kind of lonely around here." I could tell that she found it a little more odd than she wanted to let on, but she was being really nice. I decided I liked her, "Oh, hey, um, I'm sorry, but, uh, what's your name. You never told me."

"Lana Lang."

Lana. Lana Lang. how did I know… Lana Lang! Clark Kent's high school sweetheart Lana Lang! Oh my god! I did not even know how to respond to that. Actually, I did. As ashamed as I am to admit it, my response was, "Aren't you supposed to be a redhead?"