Still on Persona.
CHAPTER FOUR
Chloe stared at a coffee stain on her notes. It looked like a lopsided squirrel. She'd decided this five minutes ago and she had way more important things than divining shapes in a coffee stain, but she honestly could not stop staring at it. It was better than thinking about recent events -- such as Clark and Lana riding off in the distance together, such as Lex gutting the Planet staff, such as nearly having sex with Lex... again.
Of the three, the first was the most bothersome at the moment. It wasn't just that her best friend seemed to be happily abandoning her, it was that he was abandoning a city that needed his help. Lex Luthor acquiring the Planet wasn't exactly a sign of good things to come. And how was she supposed to stop all the bad from crashing down on them without Clark?
She lifted her head and picked up the phone, dialing quickly. She couldn't waste time wallowing. If Clark was leaving, then she needed someone to help her with some good, old-fashioned world-saving. Maybe she could offer a little help herself.
"Voicemail," she groaned. She tapped her fingers and waited for the beep "Oliver? Chloe. Remember how I said I was a little too busy to take you up on that... business proposal? Well, a significant amount of my time just got freed up." She didn't need to mention it was Clark time. He'd realize that soon enough when Clark was just gone. "Call me when you get this."
She hung up and got back to actual work. It almost seemed a pointless exercise at a paper owned by Lex Luthor, but it still had to be done. Of course, she hadn't got past word one on the police blotter when Clark rushed in.
"Chloe. Thank God you're okay."
She stared at him. "Okay?" Now he suddenly cared if she was okay? She was done soft-shoeing around his Jekyll and Hyde act. "I just found out you and Lana are leaving Smallville. I am nowhere near okay."
"No, Chloe.That wasn't me. That was the phantom. I've been trapped in the fortress."
She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or extremely freaked out. She stood slowly. "That would definitely explain the bizarre behavior." All this time. Not Clark. And she'd hardly known. She'd also hardly seen him until today. But every look, every gesture had been the same. "How do I know you're the real Clark?"
"Chloe, it's me." Sounded like something Clark would say. But so had a lot of what the phantom said until today. "Now, look, I know how to destroy the phantom. I just need the Kryptonian shield in order to do it." She backed away instinctively. "But I can't find it... anywhere." He stared at her. Was that a quizzical look or one that wondered if she was buying this sudden change in attitude?
"That was what the other Clark was looking for," she said, holding his gaze.
"Chloe, look me in the eye."
She wanted to believe. She wanted so desperately to think that Clark wouldn't avoid her, only coming to her for help. She wanted to believe that he wouldn't leave her so casually. But her wants might be clouding her. She'd looked into the phantom's eyes, too, even as he hurt her. "Nice try," she said, backing away further. "But from what I've heard, everything about the two of you is exactly the same, right down to your baby blues."
He started forward even as she flinched. "If I was the phantom, direct sunlight... would make my face change." He stepped into the light. "It's me."
Chloe rushed forward, a million emotions coursing through her. "Oh, my god. Thank god it's you." Thank God you still care. Thank God you aren't leaving me. I don't think I could take it. She didn't say this, however. She pulled away before the hug went on a little too long. "Your domineering double had me seriously worried," she said instead. Her days of being open with Clark about her feelings, the one she hoped would just go away, were long over. They made him feel pressured. They made him avoid her. Even if Clark got mushy, she laughed it off. It was the only way to keep him around.
"I need to destroy him, but I can't do it without that shield."
Back to business. Yes. I can do that. "I think I can help."
She pulled him to the closet, trying to think of it less as the place she nearly screwed Luthor in and more as the place that held what Clark needed. She pulled the door shut and moved to the shelf, taking out her balled up scarf. She moved to him, unwrapping it. "The way you were acting, I didn't know what would happen if you found this thing, so I went to the farm and I...kind of borrowed it."
Clark stared at the shield, then at her with that slight smile and mild wonder that made these moments what they were. "You saved me again, Chloe."
"Please be careful, Clark," she said quickly. Best to move past those moments. They never changed anything in the end. Back to business. "Kryptonians don't exactly roll out the welcome mat, and if this guy ditched his S.O.S., He may not want to be found."
"I don't have a choice. Stay back." He stepped back with the shield. "Dax-Ur," he said, then... disappeared.
Chloe stared at the spot he was, then heavenward. She almost wanted to have a good sit down with Kryptonian technology. If she could stare at a pendant and say "Daily Planet," her entire life might be different. She'd at least add three hours of free time to her day. "Good luck," she sighed, hoping Dax-Ur was a scientist of the mild-mannered, bookish variety. She hadn't exactly met Zor-El, but she hoped he wasn't representative of the average Kryptonian scientist.
She stared at the wall beyond the shelf. In the hours she thought clark was leaving, she nearly made two very bad decisions. One was giving up on Clark. The other was giving in to Lex. As it was, she'd done neither. If Clark had been here this whole time, really here, would she have come this close to having Lex inside her again? Was it just isolation? Would the solitude of being without Clark drive her to something so dark, so fueled with hate.
It wasn't just the hate...and it wasn't just two miserable sacks like us f*cking the loneliness away.
Lex didn't seem to think either applied. What exactly did he think...
She shook her head and moved out of the closet, making her way back to her desk. She didn't know. And she didn't want to find out. Clark was back. She had better things to do. She wouldn't think of it, not for another second.
Of course, with the alternative being frantic imaginings of Clark trapped somewhere with a green rock on his chest, it was nearly...
Her phone rang. "Oh, thank God," she breathed as she picked it up. "Sullivan."
"Chloe Sullivan? The best sidekick money, apparently, can't buy? That Chloe Sullivan?"
She smiled. "Oliver. Hi."
"So... Word has it you're finally open to selling those skills on the open market."
"Word?"
"Well, your voicemail did. And I couldn't be happier. I might have a little something for you in internet espionage. Right up your alley."
She took a deep breath. She had left that message. But that was before Clark came back, before her world made sense again. "Actually, I..."
"God, I'm sorry. Rushing right in with the business. How are you?"
"I'm good. But I..."
"And how's... uh... that cousin of yours?"
She nearly rolled her eyes. "You mean Lois?" She glanced at Lois' desk. It had been empty all day so far. Grant hadn't sent her on assignment, but Chloe suspected Grant was one reason she wasn't there. The few times she'd seen them together since Christmas, it had seemed painfully awkward. "She's fine. She seems to like her new job."
"Yeah. That Lois. Bet she's out every night with the gang from work, having all kinds of..."
Chloe did roll her eyes now. "Why don't I just cut to the chase and tell you she's single." At least now. He didn't need to know about Grant. She wished she'd never known about Grant.
"I wasn't asking that," he mumbled. "Just asking how she is and all. So... Me and some of the guys found some of our favorite enemy's pet projects in Honduras, Detroit, even one in the sleepy hamlet of Clifton Heights, Pennsylvania. But we're having some trouble getting our hands on..."
"Let me stop you right there," she cut in. "Ollie, when I called you before, I wasn't exactly thinking. I mean, I have a lot on my plate and, if it's just hacking, there must be someone else who..."
"No one I can trust the way I know I trust you," he said. He sounded tired. She nearly wanted to give in just for that. "But... Okay. It's fine. I will just scratch your name off this cashier's check for five thousand dollars and..."
"Wait." That was the clincher. If Lex got too trigger happy with the lay-offs, she might be out of a job next week. No matter how much he laid on the seduction, she knew it didn't make her job safe. Far from it. Even the apartment. She and Lois could be on their respective asses in the street the minute Lex said so. God, why haven't we moved? Of course, rent in Smallville was one thing. Rent in Metropolis... "Okay. Purely because I am so desperately in need of a nest egg... I'm in."
Besides, it was only a little internet spying. What could it hurt?
**************************
He lifted the drink.
What's wrong, Lex? You afraid I'll become the favored son? That I'll accomplish something you couldn't?
He lifted it again.
Haven't you gotten used to it -- people leaving you?
His hand shook as he put it down.
Last I heard, I was practically made for this family.
And that wasn't how it was supposed to be. He'd programmed Grant with a smiling disposition, an idyllic adopted childhood, nothing resembling the baggage of being a Luthor. He'd wanted him to remember that life, then to find him, look up to him, to see good in him. He didn't want another Luthor. Between his father and him, there was enough darkness. He'd wanted light. Maybe he shouldn't have used Julian's DNA if that's what he wanted. The Luthor genes were possibly damaged. Grant wasn't supposed to be like them. He was supposed to be different, more like... "Clark," he whispered. It was easier to say it, drunk as he was.
You're so lonely and pathetic, you had to build yourself a brother.
He'd had someone who didn't judge him for his name. Someone who didn't judge him at all in the beginning, though the first time they met had involved him nearly killing Clark on that bridge. But had he nearly killed him? There was something to Clark, something he was so afraid to say, to acknowledge -- even drunk as he was. It would change everything. Then again, how much worse could things get? He'd lost Clark along the way and he just needed someone...
Are you so desperate to mean something to someone, it was worth the risk?
He'd thought it was. His father... He meant nothing to him, no matter how he tried. Lana? That had been wrong from the start. How could she have loved him when she never stopped loving Clark?
"Clark," he whispered. It all came back to Clark. Even his father had thrown Clark in his face. And it made no sense. How could he be like Clark? His father had raised him to be a mirror of himself.
Had he succeeded? Possibly. He felt as distant from himself as he'd ever felt from Lionel.
Lionel... Who was out with Grant right now. Accepting even a son created in a lab over him. And it wasn't how it was supposed to be...
Haven't you gotten used to it -- people leaving you?
Maybe he had. He could take one more. Project Gemini was an epic failure. And now? He had to clean up his mess.
He picked up the phone.
**************************
"You're sure you don't want to talk or..."
"I'm fine," Clark said, his voice distant.
"You don't sound fine. Why don't I come over and..."
"It's not a good time. Besides, it's past eight. You should go home, get some sleep. I'm... We're both fine. Really."
"If you say so," she sighed. She knew it wasn't true, but she hung up anyway. He'd talk when and if he wanted to. She suspected Lana had shared more than vacation plans with Bizarro and, if Clark's tone was anything to go by, he flat out knew it. She wondered if this, like so many other things in their long and tumultuous relationship, could be swept under the rug. She sincerely hoped it wouldn't.
She looked up from her desk to see Megan, white-faced and staring, a binder in her hands. "Megan? What's wrong?"
"I am completely frozen. I am going to be tossed out. I just know it."
"What? You've been busting your hump all day. No way..."
"No, I will. I knew all five thousand of his demands for the applicants couldn't be met and I bet he did, too. It was all a game to make me prove myself or something. And I didn't win."
"I'm sure that's not true." If the game was being waged against anyone, it was Chloe. Why else would the bulk of the workload be foisted off on the basement staff? It wasn't exactly her fault, but she was sorry everyone else had to suffer with her.
"Believe me. It is." Megan slapped her binder on Chloe's desk. "I got it all done. And here are the top forty applicants all sorted and to be delivered to Luthor himself tonight and he said he'd be here and he's not."
"Then he can't..."
"Oh, that means nothing. His stupid assistant left and the guard won't give me his number so I can at least tell him and, after everything, this will all add up to me being canned when this counts for nearly half my credit and where the hell else am I gonna..."
"Okay. Deep breaths." Chloe stood up and came around the desk. "We're all on edge lately, but we can't lose it. There's always a way."
"Like how?" she moaned.
Chloe picked up the binder. "Like me delivering these to his highness myself."
"Chloe, you helped me enough. I can't ask you to..."
"It's no problem. I live in his neck of the woods." And maybe while she placed this binder in his precious hands, she could tell him exactly what she thought of his little riddle and exactly what she thought of him torturing innocent, hardworking interns just to get to her.
She was still fuming when she hit Smallville and a nice, miserable rainstorm. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed as she pulled up to the mansion. It was almost a children's story. The brave young maiden approached the dark castle where the beast lay in wait. She might not slay the beast, but she'd be sure to maim him a little. All this time, she'd taken his jibes, his innuendo, his unreasonable demands and she was just done. She was going to give him a piece of her mind and he could fire her if he chose. Deep down, she didn't think he would. It wouldn't fit in with his plans, whatever they were. She knew they involved more focus on otherwordly things at a paper once taken very seriously. Why else would Gabriel keep pushing the wild and wacky stories? He obviously answered to Lex.
No. He needed her around. He wanted to know what she held close. And that worried her more than anything. She'd have to be careful under his eye. Firing might be nothing compared to what happened if Luthor learned her secrets and, by extension, Clark's.
She placed the binder under her jacket and walked up the gravel drive. A brown-haired woman was coming out the door just as she walked up.
"Excuse me."
The woman turned, a hand on the door.
Chloe rushed up to the door and the protection of the awning. She pulled the binder out. "I need to give these to Mr, Luthor."
The woman rolled her eyes as she adjusted her glasses. "Surely this can wait until tomorrow. You can give it to him during his office hours if it's..."
"Yes. But he wanted these tonight and he left his office at The Planet, so..."
"Mr. Luthor has freed the staff for the evening and left specific instructions not to be disturbed by any staff, even myself." She puffed up slightly. "I'm sure this includes Planet employees." She stared to close the door, but Chloe placed a hand on it.
Chloe narrowed her eyes. "I didn't drive out here for nothing. I am putting these in his hands tonight."
The woman glared back. "At the expense of your job?"
"I'll take my chances."
The woman smiled and held the door open. "It's your funeral."
Chloe gave her just as false a smile back and moved inside, turning back as the door slammed behind her. The noise echoed throughout the empty house, followed by the rumble of thunder. "Drama queen," she muttered. She wasn't Lex's first bespectacled female employee. She wondered if this one would tie him up and try to fry him alive. She kind of seemed like the type.
She clutched the binder and moved toward the hall and his study, just betting he was playing pool and drinking alone. That was his big, fun night, after all. She could feel sorry for him if he wasn't such a prick. Then again, when was the last time she had a night that could be construed as fun? Her night with Lex didn't count in the least. You have no room to feel sorry for anyone. She gritted her teeth as his words came back to her. Why did they always replay in her head? It was like a rude, bald, twisted version of Jiminy Cricket was on her shoulder, always bringing her down to his level. And she was nowhere near his level. It was circumstance that made her life this haze of work and only work, whether at her actual job or with Clark. If things would settle down, she could have all the fun she wanted... eventually.
And that night was sex. It had nothing to do with Lex. It was being wanted, something she rarely felt. And he knew that. I think I'm getting an inkling why you've never had a boyfriend. He'd taken advantage of it. The alcohol wasn't what allowed it to happen. It was that. It was what was behind their encounter in the closet. She let her insecurities get the better of her. Clark's off-hand rejection had led her to do stupid things before this. She wasn't proud of it. It wouldn't happen again. She was stronger than that. So there was his stupid answer.
She moved to the door and stood outside it. She wouldn't let him say a word. She would toss the binder in the middle of his stupid pool table and just let loose. She opened it quickly and strode in, ready to give him what for... except he wasn't there.
The binder dropped from her limp hands.
A pool cue lay on the floor next to a broken cell phone. A glass sat on the edge of the pool table with ice melting, a wet ring forming around the base on the polished wood. She turned at a clattering sound to her left. One of the stained glass doors was open, banging against the wall outside with the wind. Wet papers were scattered around the desk, which also looked a little damp. She shivered, wondering if someone had broken in. With his staff disbanded, he'd be helpless. As much as she despised him, she didn't wish him physical harm... or at least nothing fatal. She strode to the glass door, ready to shut it before getting down to the bottom of...
"Lex?"
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