Chapter 26
Chloe woke to the sound of Lois snoring. She was happy to hear it. She turned over and looked at her cousin whose newly-red hair was a matted mess around her. She turned over again and looked at the clock. It was two in the afternoon. She got up carefully and padded towards the bathroom. Trust Oliver to not only have the kind of house with a bathroom for every bedroom, but to have those bathrooms stocked.
When she was settled in the tub, surrounded by peach and lavender, she very nearly relaxed. She'd not had a voluntary bath since Smallville. All she'd got in the Yukon was a soaking in a hot tub as a defense against frostbite. Her body was still a little raw from that. And more than a little disgusting from her days without a bath. She pulled a razor from the side of the tub and lathered her legs.
She was a little embarrassed that she'd actually been with Clark with legs like a gorilla. Neither of them noticed at the time. Next time, she'd be smooth for him. No hair getting in the way of the skin of his hips and her calves. She wanted him again even now.
She refused to be ashamed of what she wanted anymore. As awful as events had been, she'd started to think that wanting touching and closeness and him... that it was wrong. But she was human. She needed that touch, that trust and connection. Did Clark need it or did he just enjoy it? Did Kryptonians who now had full knowledge of their heritage need love?
Regardless, she wanted to give it to him. And, if he wouldn't take it, she'd force it into his hands. These six months, she'd lost so much, experienced so many awful things she couldn't wash away in a scented tub. She would take what consolation she could.
Even dead girls were entitled to some happiness.
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When she came downstairs, she felt clean again. It wasn't just the bath. It wasn't just the fact that Oliver's staff had washed all of her clothes. She felt new. She'd started to believe she could do it. She could start a new life. Did she want to take her cousin's name?
Possibly. She'd like at least that tie to her life. Would she work at The Planet? Possibly. She knew that Oliver could and would help her with anything. So many things seemed possible with Lex Luthor out of the picture. And Clark...
Soft voices drew her to a doorway on her right. She froze when she saw him. When she entered the sitting room, he was next to his mother. She could barely register surprise at Martha's presence, she was so taken over by thoughts of him. "Clark..." He looked up at her presence, but did not stand.
Martha did. "Oh, Chloe," she crooned, moving quickly to the doorway. She felt herself pulled and embraced. It was nice. "I'm so sorry about your cousin and your uncle and... Oh, just everything."
She nodded against Martha's shoulder. "Me, too."
Martha pulled back and looked her in the eye. "Chloe, I don't want you to blame yourself. I don't want you to be even more miserable than you have been these months. I..." She tugged on a strand of Chloe's hair. "I just want you to be that happy girl you always were. Can you do that for me?"
Chloe swallowed over the lump in her throat. "I can try."
Martha stared at her for a moment before nodding. "That's good enough for now."
She walked with Martha into the room, intent on Clark. She felt apprehensive. Since the Yukon, she'd felt as if he were avoiding her. If he would just touch her once...
He stood and moved toward the fireplace as she approached. Oliver was there, looking at something in his hands. She took the seat Clark had vacated and sat next to Martha.
"Are you sure?" Oliver was asking.
"Positive," Clark said. "The only way to kill this is to make sure that neither Lex or anyone else can resurrect this project."
Her mind snapped to attention and she finally realized what Oliver was holding. "Where did you get that vial?"
"My staff found it in your coat... or Lucy's coat."
She let out a relieved gasp. "For a minute, I thought there must be more." She looked between them. "Lionel and I stole it from Lex's personal collection. It needs to be destroyed."
"No arguments, there." Oliver peered closely at it, then handed it to Clark. "Any thoughts? Because it could be hard to dispose of. This is the stuff that infected General Lane."
"I could throw it, but who knows where it would land. And it could infect..."
"Oh, honestly!" Martha stood and strode to the sideboard. "The two of you have been going back and forth for an hour." She grabbed a large metal ice bucket and placed it on the coffee table. "Just put it in there and burn it."
Clark and Oliver were dumbstruck for a moment before Chloe spoke. "She's right. Your heat vision, Clark."
"But I could melt the bucket. If I..."
"Actually," Oliver said slowly. "That bucket's platinum. It won't melt under 2000 degrees centigrade. I think your mom's right."
Chloe saw the first smile in days on Clark's face as he beamed at his mother. She was nearly jealous.
Oliver placed the vial in the bucket and they gathered around it. Chloe sidled up next to Clark as he put his hand to his sunglasses. She placed her hand on his arm. "Be careful. Your eyes..."
"I'm fine, Chloe..." He pulled his arm away and she felt the sting of it. "After this, we'll have to talk to Lois. Her father..."
"I'll talk to her," Oliver said. "Just do it."
She stepped back towards the doorway and willed herself not to let this get to her. If he was upset about something, they'd talk. She refused to let him push her away anymore.
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She sat at the dining room table amid the laughing and teasing and stories. The day had started somber with a funeral of sorts, but had ended like an Irish wake. The cremation of General Lane had not been a public event. What was left of the Sullivan-Lane family could not afford any publicity. General Lane was just gone and, considering he'd already been gone six months, it didn't seem to be an issue with the world at large.
"So..." Bart glanced down the table at Lois. "Linda, huh? I totally dig the red-heads." He winked at Martha Kent. "Always have."
A.C. shook his head. "Dude, do you ever talk to a girl that would actually date you?"
"He has a point, Impulse." Lois... Linda said. Chloe repeated the name several times in her head. Linda. Linda. Linda. She was hoping it would stick. Whether or not she took the name Lois Lane, her cousin had made her choice. "You seem to reserve your flirting for girls that are taken or totally out of your league or both, like me." She pointed at him with her fork. "That suggests a fear of rejection. You won't go after someone who's free to have you."
He laughed. "I'm not afraid of anything. I laugh in the face of rejection... daily. Otherwise, I wouldn't continue to woo Chloelicious."
Chloe forced a laugh and glanced sideways. Martha was next to her and Clark was on the other side of his mother. He'd put his mom between them. If that didn't send a message...
He'd been avoided any touching. He'd been avoiding any alone time and her body and heart were screaming at her. She cut into her half-eaten steak, but found her way obstructed by the cut of Chicken Marsala that was now on top of it.
"You just have to try it," Martha whispered. "Ollie's chef is just amazing. I won't be able to stand my own cooking when I leave."
"Are you kidding?" Chloe turned to her, whispering as well. "Yours is the best. Your spaghetti alone is worth everything on this table."
Martha smiled. "Sweet of you to say. But don't change the subject. Eat up."
Chloe put down her fork. "Every time I turn around, you're feeding me. What is up with that?"
Martha laughed and leaned closer. "Am I being too obvious? I'm sorry. But Clark keeps saying you're too thin." Martha turned back to her own food.
"Does he?" Chloe glanced around Martha. She knew he was listening in. "Is that what it takes, Clark?" she whispered low enough that only he could hear. "Because I'll eat every bite and then some. But we both know I'm not hungry for food."
She didn't need to look at him to know he'd heard. A fork clattered to the table.
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If he'd avoided her before, he was damn near hiding from her now. All Chloe had to do was walk into the room and he was off like a shot. He wished his mother was ready to leave. He knew she was putting it off.
Martha Kent knew that, the minute Clark had her situated at the farm, he'd go back. And she was delaying it with this house party that had become their stay in Star City. Some of it was nice, though. He enjoyed the easy camaraderie of the guys and was even getting used to Linda in a way he'd never warmed up to Lois. Linda was just a little happier, though he supposed that was due to Oliver.
He jumped when the library door opened. Even his ears were thrown off these days. Luckily for him, it was Oliver himself. "Got a little something for you, Boyscout," he announced. "A little late birthday present."
Clark realized with a start that, according to his birth certificate, he was now twenty-one. He wondered if drinking was an option to take care of this Chloe dilemma. But he supposed not. The closest he'd ever been to drunk was red K. And there was no way he was touching that. "What's the present?" He held up his hands. "And please no more clothes. The amount of money you're spending on me, my mother..." Chloe. He didn't voice it. Chloe's shopping had a drastic effect on him. Everything she wore lately was shorter, tighter, lower. The worst part was that he knew she was doing it just for that effect. He couldn't take it much longer.
"Just let me do what I want with my money," Oliver said, tossing him a rectangular box. "Anyway, this is wearable. But it's better than clothes."
Clark looked curiously at the box, then smiled and opened it. He took a hinged box out. "Glasses?"
"Clear glasses," Oliver corrected. "Lead glasses."
Clark stared at them through the sunglasses. "Really?"
Oliver nodded. "I have all kinds of friends and I asked around. Did you know that lead oxide can be introduced to glass in the primary melt? Fascinating stuff."
Clark closed his eyes, taking the suglasses off and putting the clear ones on. "Wow." He looked around.
"Mirror over the little shelf," Oliver said.
Clark moved that way to look at himself. "Horn rims? Could you have found something less dorky?"
"Oh, excuse me," Oliver sighed. "The amazing amount of time and preparation that went into these glasses didn't take your fashion sense into consideration."
He laughed. "No. They're great. Thank you."
"Well, thank Chloe, too. She suggested it."
"Are my ears burning?" He turned from the mirror as Chloe sailed in. It was a pencil skirt now. He clenched his fists. The things that girl did to a fairly pristine skirt...
"Look at the time," Oliver said quickly. "It's past ten. Even rich boys need to visit the office once in a while." He started out as Clark tried to think of a reason to call him back. "You guys behave, now." He turned and threw a wink at Clark before closing the doors.
Chloe approached, her hips moving back and forth like a pendulum. It was nearly mesmerizing. Colors flew at him now, once obscured by the dark glasses. Her top was black and so low it made a breast exam redundant. Her skirt, that damned skirt, was red and it hugged her from her hips to just below her knees where peach skin disappeared into black shoes... with an ankle strap. God help him!
"Alone at last," she breathed. Red lips. Green eyes surrounded with dark shadow. A flush of pink on her cheeks. White teeth. Blonde hair that curled softly around all of it.
It was too much. He stumbled backwards and found himself sitting on the shelf.
She laughed. "Don't worry, Clark. You've made your feelings clear on physical contact. I won't touch you. I just want to see those eyes again." She smiled. "There they are." He was almost disappointed when she turned. He watched her sidle over to the sofa, stared as she turned to perch on the arm, crossing her legs demurely at the ankle. "I have to say, though, those glasses... I know a lot of people think horn rims are out-dated and nerdy. I, personally, find them alluring. They're so... misleading. You can look at that guy and see some mild-mannered, non-threatening type. But underneath..." She took a deep breath and put a hand to her chest. His eyes followed greedily. "There's this whole other guy that is nothing but threatening. The kind of guy that wouldn't ask, wouldn't be afraid to just grab..."
He started for the door and her voice followed him.
"Yes. Run away, Clark. It's your greatest ability."
He stopped, his hand on the doorknob. He didn't turn the bronze knob. He let his hand slide up instead, twisting the lock instead.
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Chapter Twenty-Seven
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