The Depths We Sink To (Chapter Five)

CHAPTER FIVE

"Lex?"

He was outside. His back to her. Just standing in the rain. 

She stepped over the ledge. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He didn't answer. She bundled her jacket around her and moved toward him. He was just staring out. She grasped his arm. "Lex..."

His head turned to her, his eyes unfocused. "I had to."

"Had to what? Stand in the rain in the middle of winter?"

"Need to clean up my mess," he muttered, staring away again.

"I'm sure you're staff can take care of some wet paper in the morning." She pulled on his arm. "Come on."

He turned fully to her. "Sullivan?"

Had he only just realized she was here? She wasn't sure if he was drunk or delirious. "Get inside." She pulled again, but he didn't move.

He blinked at her as rivulets ran over his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Freezing my ass off, apparently." She was getting soaked as well. "Move," she grunted, taking him by the elbow and pulling him backward. She stepped over the threshold and he followed, walking stiffly.

"Nothing ever works out. Not for me," he whispered as she led him to the sofa. She wasn't sure if he was even speaking to her.

She pushed him down and he fell against the sofa. "Lex, what happened here?"

"Me. I happened." His teeth started chattering. Hers weren't exactly steady, either.

She put a hand to his forehead. Of course, she couldn't exactly tell if he was was delirious with fever when she was freezing herself. "You need to get warm." She looked around, then remembered this wasn't the Kent farm where cheerful afghans were scattered around. She was sure the Luthor mansion liked its blankets to stay in their place. She moved to a cabinet to the side, nearly tripping over something. She leaned down and picked up her dropped binder. She groaned and moved to the pool table, placing it there. "That's for you. And stop tormenting Megan."

He shivered, staring at her. "Who's Megan?"

She rolled her eyes and moved toward the cabinet again, pulling it open. "Booze," she muttered. "Of course." She moved to another one. This one also seemed to be stockpiling scotch. She hugged her arms, shaking. "You'd think with all your money, you could make this place less drafty. Where do you keep your damned blankets?"

"Upstairs," his voice said faintly. "On beds."

She turned back to him, moving his way. "Lex, I need you to focus. You're probably going to be sick in a hospital by morning if you don't warm the hell up."

"I don't get sick." 

"Jesus!" She grasped his arm and pulled hard. "Yes. A cold would never dare touch the great and powerful Luthor. I get it. Come on." She pulled him to the door and down the hall. "This was not the damned plan," she grumbled as she practically pushed him up the stairs. "I did not come here to play nursemaid. I was supposed to give you the binder and a good tongue-lashing and get out."

He turned to her at the top, his eyes suddenly glinting even as he shivered. "Can't we squeeze in both?"

She glared and turned him back around. "Guess I left myself wide open for that one." She pushed him down the hall. "I'm not staying for either. You're going to give me some dry clothes, then you're going to take off your wet clothes and get under multiple blankets, and then I am out of here." She stopped, staring up and down the hall. "Which room is yours?"

He pointed to a double door at the end.

"Of course." He would have a room that needed two doors. She pushed him in. "So... Any of your one-night stands leave anything around?"

He was shaking again. "No." His hands started fumbling with his buttons.

"Oh, come on. I bet you have a whole separate room for their leavings."

"There are plenty of hotel rooms for them to leave their things in," he said, still trying to grasp the buttons. He dropped his hands. "My fucking hands are numb," he gritted.

"Christ. Just..." She batted his hands away and worked at his buttons herself. "How long were you out there?"

He didn't answer. Only closed his eyes and leaned heavily against the wall. "Why'd you come here?" he asked instead.

She pulled the shirt from his pants. "I told you. I needed to drop off Megan's binder. You tell the girl you need it tonight, then you leave? We're all working our asses off and you're sitting on high laughing at us as we jump through your hoops and I'm sick of it."

"I'm not laughing." He was still shivering as she worked his wet shirt down his arms, but his eyes opened and they were hard. "Why are you still here?"

"Because you decided to take a fully clothed shower in the middle of a winter rainstorm. Why else?"

"Since when do you care if I die of exposure?"

She backed away, tossing the shirt at his chest. It smacked against him wetly before sliding to the floor. "You know what? Fine. I thought that even a snake like you deserved some consideration, but you're just determined to prove me wrong." She moved to the door.

"Chloe?"

She stopped, but didn't turn. 

"Could you... just light my fire?"

"You know, that better not be innuendo. Because I have had more than enough of you today."

"An actual fire. This place never..." She heard his teeth chattering again. " It never exactly took to central heating." She turned and he nodded to the fireplace near the bed. "I can't do it. My hands are numb."

She took a deep breath and moved past him to the fireplace, taking her jacket off as she went. It was soaked and only making her colder. She took some matches off the mantle and bent down. The fireplace seemed prepped for it. She'd just get it going and she could get out of here. She touched the match to the wadded up paper between the logs. Even the small flames warmed her--or maybe it was the absence of her soaked jacket. The thing was dry-clean only. It would probably be toddler-sized by the time it dried out. She ran a hand through her hair, taking the hairband away. She'd just get a little drier and she'd go. She had to.

Ever since that night, she never stayed in his presence longer than five minutes if she could help it. He was always too in control, always seemed to be operating on some plane above her, toying with her and pulling her strings. Tonight, he didn't seem in control, not even of himself. It wasn't a comfort. It only made her more uneasy. What had happened to him?

She glanced back at him before turning back to the slowly growing fire. She blew on it a few times before tossing her hairband on the bed with her jacket. "Mind telling me why you were out there tempting hypothermia?"

"Yes. I mind," he said, shaking.

"Fine. Are you planning to just stand there shivering?"

"Maybe."

She let out a frustrated groan and pulled him to the giant bed. She sat him on the edge and pulled a blanket from the end, wrapping it around his shoulders. At some point he'd have to take his undershirt and pants off, but she really hoped to be gone before then. "Just so you know, I am counting this as overtime."

He stared at her as she bundled the edge of the blanket around him. "Have you thought about it?"

"About what?"

"Don't play dumb."

She sighed and straightened. "If you're talking about that night, then no," she lied. "I haven't had time. And I didn't need to think about it because I already knew your stupid answer."

"Which is?"

"You know it yourself. How many times have you played on my insecurities? I've heard being a third wheel is very time consuming," she sneered. "I'm getting an inkling why you've never had a boyfriend. It's no secret that I've always been the last girl asked to dance, so to speak." She crouched in front of him, her lips a thin line. "You knew it. You played me like a fiddle and..."

"That's not the answer. If it was it would only be a fraction of why you did it." His voice was steadier now. "But I didn't ask why you did it." His hand grasped a corner of the blanket and placed it over her shoulder. 

She looked down. "What are you doing?"

He shrugged. "You're cold, too."

"Yes, but..."

"I asked why it was so good. And you're afraid to answer it."

She stiffened. "I thought your hands were numb."

"I'm starting to feel something," he said on a long breath.

"Yes," she said tightly. "My breast." Just get up. Move away. Leave. He can't stop you. Yet he was still grasping her. And she let him.

"It's about us. Maybe it was always there." He leaned down to her. "Don't you feel it?" He leaned his forehead against hers. "You think it was just an accident? Us... coming together. Not just random. You know better than that. Something in you..." he pulled her up to him and, God help her, she let him, "spoke to me," he finished hoarsely. "And vice versa."

She pulled away, but he grasped her arms.

"Just... stay. Just for now. Please..."

She broke away, stared at him, nearly frightened. It was the same thing she saw in him that night. Need. Whether it was for her or just for someone... anyone... Lex Luthor needed something... someone. Was it her?

Or was it just anyone? Just a warm body for the night?

"What do you want from me?"

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CHAPTER SIX