Deep In The Bottle (Part Four)

God, it felt good. It wasn't just the alcohol, though she had no complaints there. In fact, she loved it, the way her limbs felt warm and surrounded. It was as if she was immersed in a pool, bathwater-warm and slightly thick. Every movement felt curiously like a little swim. It was relaxing, especially now that he seemed so on-edge. Yeah, Luthor. Take that.

Encounters between them had never been anything but this, underneath. Her trying to topple him from his position of power. Him trying to convince her how little she really mattered. But she knew what mattered and what didn't. It didn't matter that Clark and Lana were cozied up, forgetting her. If she called, he would come -- maybe even Lana would. It didn't matter whether Lois was working on a story or not. She would come, too. What mattered was that she wasn't so low she had to call them. In fact, she was on top of the world right now.

"You see, Luthor," she said steadily, holding his slightly venomous stare. "Even if you were capable of pity for anyone, you're the one with no room to feel it. You are as alone as anyone could be, for all your money and power. If you died tomorrow, half the world wouldn't care. The other half would throw a party." She shook her head. "Very sad."

He crossed his arms and leaned back, but he wasn't fooling her. She could see a muscle twitching in his jaw. "Strong words, Sullivan. You've always had a way with them. It's a shame no one ever gets to see them. How long have you worked at The Planet now? Almost two years?" He smiled. "Words gets around, you know. Like the fact that your cousin, after only weeks, has been sent away on assignments to Los Angeles, New York. But you, toiling away for years, but still covering transit problems, dry city hall reports."

It didn't phase her. He was just changing tacts. That just meant she was winning. "Oh, that could change real quick, Luthor. If I published a fraction of the dirt I have on you, I'd have a Pulitzer."

He inclined his head. "Why don't you go ahead and try it, Sullivan?"

"Oh, I can wait. Slow and steady wins the race, Luthor. I don't expect you to get it."

"I've read Aesop's fables." He poured himself another drink. "They're very pretty lies," he said, before downing it.

"I guess you'd know all about pretty lies," she countered.

"So would you. I mean, isn't that what lost you a boyfriend?"

"Oh, let's not go back to that, Luthor." She reached for the bottle and poured one for herself. "You can't pity me for losing one boyfriend, with whom I had a full year. I mean, how many wives has it been? Three now?" She tilted her head. "Not even a year with any of them." She raised her glass to him before draining it.

"Oh, I guess you and your one boyfriend makes you the expert. What is your secret to year-long happiness? Or is it all in who you pick. I mean, Jimmy Olsen..." He smiled. "What a conquest."

Chloe placed her glass down. "Jimmy is sweet and loyal and..."

"Yes. And easy to please. Like a puppy that way. You can throw him scraps, but really save it all for..."

"That's not true." It wasn't. She had cared for Jimmy. She had. "I gave Jimmy everything I..."

"Not the truth," he cut in, sitting up straighter. "That would just be a little too intimate to share with someone you had no real intention of staying with. Best to save your secrets for the one you really want."

"And you, too," she said, stiffening her spine, "however unwillingly. You know a little too much about my secrets. I mean, after what you did to me, to my mother..."

"Come now," he said, suddenly sitting back again. "Let's not bring up the past." He grasped the bottle. "Things might turn unpleasant," he said, bringing the bottle to his lips.

"Unpleasant?" She let out a hoarse bark of laughter. She stood on wobbly legs and came around the table. "You and I would have a long climb upward just to get to unpleasant." She grasped the bottle, satisfied when some of it sloshed on his face and neck. "That's it. I officially can't do this." She slammed the bottle on the table. "See, there's a problem with drinking with your enemy. Alcohol only brings out the truth." And a hell of a punch. She leaned hard on the table. The damn room was moving around.

She glanced up as he stood as well, wiping his face with his sleeve. "It also exaggerates it."

She closed her eyes and breathed deep. "I don't need to exaggerate anything you've done to me, to Clark, to Lana. It's bad enough." She opened her eyes and stepped away from the table, only weaving slightly. "Kidnapping, illegal experiments, the torture of innocent..."

"Innocent?" he snapped. "Mutants with dangerous powers. I've seen things you couldn't even wrap your mind around." His eyes narrowed. "Or maybe you could. After all, you could be one of them. Any day now, Sullivan, you could snap just like the..."

"Get out," she said, her voice breaking slightly.

"You don't understand," he said quietly. "None of you ever did."

"I understand. You want control. You want control of everything and everyone around you."

"I wanted answers. But you, Clark, Lana... None of you ever let me in."

"Oh, so it's our fault?" She pushed at his chest, but he didn't move. "After what you did to me..."

"And for you," he cut in, grasping her arm, holding it between them. "I hid you for months, protected you."

"For your own reasons," she sneered, pulling at her arm. "If I wasn't a key witness against Lionel, you would have let me burn."

"That's not true. Over and over, every single one of you has accepted help from me with one hand, then pointed that handy finger of blame with the other. Bunch of self righteous..."

"I accepted your protection one time, years ago," she growled. "And I was only in danger because I was helping you. And even that was about control, not justice." She finally pulled her arm free and staggered backward. Her mind seemed to work, but her body was another story. "You just..." She weaved slightly. There went the mind. "You just wanted to control Daddy's empire. Hardly anything more to it than that." She leaned against the wall. "That's all you want. Control. God help the world if you ever get it."

She watched with bleary eyes as he moved closer. "You say that now. Maybe you even believe it's true. But history will remember everything I've done differently."

"You have an exaggerated idea of your own importance, Luthor." She shook her head, hearing the swish of her own hair against the wall. "History will remember you as a thug with a big checkbook."

"Really?" He towered over her. She cursed her damned bare feet. "And what about you? Do you think anything you do matters, Sullivan?"

She nearly laughed. "Isn't that just the point of all of this? You came over here, be the big bad Luthor, make sure tiny little Sullivan knows how very little she matters." She grasped his tie. His eyes widened. "I matter," she said, pulling down hard. "You can't stand that I matter. I could take you down in a second with what I have."

He grasped her hand and pulled at the knot of his tie. Her damned motor skills weren't up to stopping him as he loosened it and pulled it off over his head. "You can't take me down," he sneered, backing up a step, leaving her holding his tie. "You're too afraid of the consequences."

"Don't tempt me." She tossed the tie at him as hard as she could, wishing it was heavier. It only slid down his shirt and to the floor. "The way my life's going, your consequences might be a picnic."

"Then it must be pretty bad," he said with a sudden flash of teeth. "Good to hear you finally admit it."

She lurched forward. "Fuck you."

He smiled wider. "You should. You probably need it."

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Part Five