The Depths We Sink To (Chapter Nineteen)

Still dealing with Hero. Help!


Chapter 19

"Interviewed? Are you serious?" She was still more than a little floored. Not only was Pete Ross in town, but he was giving out interviews... and not to her, because she would have talked him out of it before word one. But to Jimmy. Jimmy who'd been on a date with Kara. With Kara who Pete "saved," though she was glad he had, or she and Clark would have more damage to control than they already did.

"Yeah," Jimmy went on, excited and wide-eyed and everything she wished she could be again. "Imagine what a guy like Pete could do for the public perception of the meteor-enhanced." She almost didn't want to tell him the darker side of exposure. Tracking devices and lost time and guarded cells and... "He's smart. He's funny," Jimmy was saying. "The guy's story is beyond amazing. It's great!"

"Okay, so he's a walking personal ad." And he was. And she'd missed him. And she'd love to see him. But under these circumstances... She moved away from the filing cabinet. "Jimmy, as much as I appreciate your socially conscious attitude adjustment, the press would turn Pete into a circus freak." 

"It's just an interview."

Chloe sat, looking from Jimmy's notes to the picture on her screen. "You know what? Maybe you're right. Do you mind if I, um, add a little purple prose, just to smooth out the rough edges?" She felt guilty even saying it.

"Please sprinkle some of your Hemingway dust. Look, I'm off to the Stride factory. I'm gonna interview a few of Elastic Man's comrades before they start the next gig. Thank you." And he was smiling. That only made it worse. "Thank you. Thank you so much," he said as he nearly skipped out of the bullpen.

Hemingway dust. That was the last thing she'd be spreading, right next to this picture. She stared at the notes a second longer, thinking about Jimmy and how they'd only just started being friendly again. Did she want to lose that?

She dropped the notes as she thought about Pete and how she didn't want to lose him again, either, especially not to a cell and experiments by the government or by... She squeezed her eyes shut, not even able to think about him right now.

She picked up the phone and dialed quickly. Because this was urgent and in no way because she was trying to avoid villifying the man she just spent the better part of a weekend screwing. But she would be a blind fool if she didn't consider what he might do if...

His voicemail picked up and she was nearly grateful. "Hey, Clark, uh..." She stopped. She wasn't about to explain this in a message. "we've got a problem... and it appears to be growing." That was vague enough to get a call back.

She clicked on the image, wondering if she should just delete it altogether. She could explain to Jimmy later, maybe talk him into deleting his copies. She just had to find Pete, talk him out of this. Clark could even help if they could just... 

Access Denied. She clicked again, squinting at the screen as the message changed. Upload in progress? How could...

Her eyes widened. For what it's worth, I want to be sorry. 

She hung up and dialed *3 for what felt like the tenth time this morning. "IT department, Mitch speak..."

"You want to tell me again why I'm locked out of my files, Mitchell?"

"I told you, the servers are just a little crowded right..."

"Yes. Very crowded. Apparently, I'm not the only one on my computer. I thought you were with the rest of us," she hissed.

"I am," he cut in. "Listen, I'm not even the one that did it. One of the weekend guys said Luthor had him linked to every employee's desktop."

"But he can't..."

"It's kind of a gray area, but technically..."

She dropped the phone and clenched her fists. "That sneaky, dirty, spying..." She stood and nearly stomped to the elevator before she looked down at her blouse. 

I like that blouse on you... it's very thin. I can almost see...

"Not getting another peep at anything of mine," she hissed, stomping back to her desk for her blazer.

***********************************

Lex stared at the monitor hard. Kara hadn't shared this with him. Perhaps because she hadn't seen what had happened. Still, he'd think she'd be very eager to share her save from a near death... That was a laugh. He suspected Kara Kent was in danger of dying the way he was in danger of sprouting a ponytail.

But Pete Ross. How very interesting...

His door flew open and he slowly closed his laptop. Didn't want to appear caught off guard, after all. He'd known this was coming. He'd been waiting for it all morning.

"Chloe." he leaned back in his chair. "Someone's taking advantage of my open-door policy." Too bad this wasn't a social call. 

"The I.T. Department told me you've been monitoring everything that happens on the Daily Planet computers," she said, predictably skipping the pleasantries. "Unauthorized surveillance is totally unethical."

Was it just him or had they not had a good fight in months? "Pretty big words from a cub reporter." He couldn't help a slight smile. It was almost cute, her righteous indignation. "Shouldn't you be using them to write stories?" It was a dirty move, but he had to make it. 

She drew back slightly, eyes hardening. "Good idea." He really wished she'd thought to close the door. "I think 'office espionage' has a nice ring to it." She turned, flouncing out with the last word and her temper intact.

He couldn't have that. "Look," he drawled, going in for the kill. "I'm new here, but I thought Lois had first stab at conspiracy theories." He'd seen her desktop as well. Silly far-fetched stuff. Nothing near what Chloe knew and couldn't print.

Chloe whirled, hair and earrings flying. "You hacked into my computer and copied my files, Lex!" she said loudly. "I have rights!"

And I win. "No. You don't have rights," he said, keeping his cool. "You have responsibilities." He stood and came around the desk, wondering if they should close the door and celebrate his victory together. "Owning the Daily Planet means everything within these walls." He moved closer to her, noting the still-open door. That was a damned shame. "And if you have a problem with the way I run this paper, Miss Sullivan, you're free to find out if The Inquisitor offers a more considerate environment!" He raised his voice on the last, knowing that would sink in, not just to her but anyone walking by. The coffee boy had called him Mr. L this morning. He really did need to run a tighter ship.

Her eyes bore into his and he sensed a self-righteous last word.

"You're excused," he said before she could get it out.

She glared at him a moment too long before she turned, slamming out.

He stared through the glazed door at her retreating figure. He was going to pay for this. 

Strangely, he was looking forward to it.

*************************

"No secrets, Chloe." Pete grasped her shoulder. "Put it on the front page."

She faced him, still wishing, though it was pointless by now, that this was just a visit. That she could meet one of her oldest friends and not try to explain what happened, what really happened, to meteor freaks. "Okay, Pete. I get the whole reach-for-the-stars mentality, and right now..." She tried for a laugh. "You actually could reach a few of those stars..." 

Pete scoffed, still snapping on his gum.

"But what about all the meteor-infected people who still appreciate their privacy?" She didn't want to get too specific. This wasn't a conversation for a crowded bullpen, still...

"They want to keep living a lie, that's their problem."

She drew back, slightly hurt. Though he had no way of knowing, it still hurt. He didn't get it. She lived every day wondering if today was the day she'd find someone near and know she had to... She couldn't help it. She'd have to... And maybe that time a fire in a kitchen sink wouldn't be enough to erase her death. Maybe that time it would stick or... worse. Maybe that time she wouldn't wake up to find Clark at her side. Maybe she'd wake up alone, underground or... not alone at all. Heavily guarded in a small room like her mother's...

"Maybe it's time for everyone to realize that a real hero doesn't hide in the shadows," Pete was saying. He brushed past her. "Excuse me."

She watched him walk away. He didn't understand. It was about more than privacy. It was about... freedom, safety. Something she wasn't sure he'd understand. How could she tell him it wasn't safe? It had been years, but she knew Pete from way back. She knew that he'd exhibit his typical male bravado as if these threats were nothing. Why hadn't Clark called her back? Someone had to talk to him. Lex having access to her desktop only made things worse. 

Oliver still hadn't been able to track down a new 33.1 location, but that didn't mean there wasn't one. And 33.1 wasn't the only threat. The government, the military... After two meteor showers and thousands of violent crimes, Smallville had to be on their radar. Not to mention Belle Reve. Lana, in her fervor to convince her that Isis was about more than spying on Lex, had said most infected persons were placed there by their parents on first suspicion of abilities. Though she still didn't have complete faith in Lana's altruism, she didn't doubt the statistics. And if Pete was now meteor-infected, he was about to become one of them. 

She moved her desk. Clark hadn't called her yet. She wasn't even sure he even know Pete was in town? It was nearly one and...

She didn't sit down. Nearly one. Archives. No matter what. She understood why he added that now. What she didn't understand was why the hell he'd want to be within ten feet of her right now. 


*********************


Lex kept to the side of the door, idly fingering a box of microfiche labeled 1910. He really should get someone on scanning this into pdfs. It would be long and tedious work. Maybe another task for the basement dwellers. Sullivan would be annoyed, not that she'd show it. With all the menial tasks he'd stuck them on, she had yet to say word one about them.

Sure, she had a few muttered comments on the firings and his treatment of the interns, but she hadn't complained about just how demoted she'd been since last year. It was a waiting game, really. Ever since he placed the failed experiment that was his brother in charge, he'd been waiting for her to complain, speak out of line, give him a reason to tell Grant Gabriel what to do. 

Even when her cousin was sent on plum assignments she was far from qualified for, Sullivan hadn't said a word. He hadn't found that line. Even when he took the reins, she seemed bent on staying. He'd found it today.

And she'd come close this morning, close to quitting or getting herself fired and they both knew it. 

He almost wondered why he kept it up. Shouldn't he want her to stay where he could keep track? He knew it was best for his ends to make staying at The Daily Planet more palatable to her and yet... He couldn't do it. He owed her that much misery for all the way she still tried to fight against him. Against what he did. His methods may look dirty to her, but in the end, she'd see he was right. They all would. 

On another level, he was sick of pretending. 

He was sick of acting out an employer/employee relationship when it wasn't what they were. They were on opposing sides of something so big and today, he'd come close to defining it. It had to do with her, with her power, still so undefined, with Clark and his very mysterious family tree, and now with Pete Ross and the abilities he'd exhibited. Were they new? Had Pete had this power all along? Was that why he left Smallville? So many questions. So many things tied them all to Smallville, to the meteor rocks. 

And he had to play "boss" and work around company policy when there was a damned war brewing underneath.

But that wasn't the only game they played. They played at... lovers? Such a pretty, bland word that didn't do justice to them at all. Whatever he wanted to call it, that was one game he wasn't sick of playing. It was the only game where he didn't have to pretend at all. He wanted to touch her, taste her, fuck her. And her? She wanted it all just as much. It was as honest as things got between them.

And he needed that today. Something honest. Something without pretense. He was playing on so many levels right now, he wasn't sure who he was today. Was he a CEO with thousands under him? Or a rich philanthropist who helped wayward girls regain their memories? Was he a seeker willing to do anything to get to the truth?

He didn't want to be any of those people right now. He just wanted to be a man. He needed to be, for a few moments, nothing more than a man sinking into a warm body. And not just any warm body...

The door creaked open and he hung back, waiting.

He saw her, sliding through the small gap, closing it quietly, creeping forward, eyes ahead.

He stayed still as he did rather like sneaking up on her, tilting his head as she buttoned her blazer. Little counterproductive, Sullivan.

"Hello?"

He waited until she passed the row of shelves to move forward silently.

"Trevor?" 

Must be the hollow-eyed goon he'd found in this windowless hell. He'd told him to take a two-hour lunch. The way the man reacted, it was as if he'd doled out a punishment. Maybe he should be charitable and give him the task of scanning, rather than torture Sullivan and her cronies. He might actually like it.

He moved to the door, quickly flicking the lock. "I thought you wouldn't show."

She whirled in him, only betraying the smallest flinch. "After the way you manipulated me this morning with your... ultimatum?"

"I thought it was more of a promise." He moved toward her.

"No matter what," she sneered. "You knew what you were going to do."

"I nearly always do."

She stepped backward. "And you knew exactly how I'd feel about it, so you manipulated..."

"Don't you mean tempted?"

"What? How can you call that..."

"I damned near got you to come for me behind a delivery van." He closed in on her. "I'm just delivering now."

She sidestepped. "No. You played me just like you're playing me now. Just like you played me all weekend."

He stopped, actually confused. "What?"

"You act like this is something spe... else," she choked out. "Then you use what's between us to make sure I show up here. And why?"

"Why?" He was ready to give up on following the logic of women. "To fuck. I thought that was pretty clear-cut."

Her mouth opened and closed several times. "You... You are unbelievable."

"Yes. So you said roughly twenty-four hours ago. Now for a demonstration..." He moved to her.

She stepped aside again. "You actually wanted to fuck? Now?"

He fell against the end of a shelf, getting annoyed now. "And you don't, I take it."

"Of course I don't." She moved past the shelves. "First of all, I said we weren't doing this at work..."

"I never verbally agreed to that."

"Second of all..." She stopped at a wall that contained several microfiche readers and turned. "You hacked into my files, Lex!"

This again? He pushed himself away from the shelf. "And?"

"And! Is that all you have to say?" 

"What the hell did you expect?" He bore down on her. "As unethical as you think it is, I'm within my rights as your employer to know what you're doing on work computers. More than that, I know you're hiding things and you're a fool if you think I won't use every resource I have to find them..."

"You think you have some right because we're fucking?"

"No. This isn't about what I do and don't have the right to know on any level. This is about what I can find. You claim you have nothing to hide, but you must have an awful lot, Sullivan, or you wouldn't be so angry right now." 

She glared at him.

"And that's very distracting." He shot forward, putting and arm on either side of her, trapping her against one of the mounted desks before she could move. "You're awful cute when you're angry, Sullivan."

She pushed at him. "If you think you can butter me up with some cheesy line..."

He grasped her wrists and moved backwards. "I have better ways to get you all... buttered up." He smiled. "I apologize. That was a bad line. You really have to stop giving me these openings, Sullivan. You make it too easy to..."

"Jesus!" She yanked her wrists from his grasp and they both flew backward. She fell against a monitor and righted herself. "You think this is funny?"

He braced himself against a shelf. "No. I think this is separate. That was something you laid out."

"It's hard to separate this. Pete is one of my oldest friends," she seethed. "For you to take that picture and demonize him for something he can't even help, just like all the other freaks you..."

"If it's time to point the finger about what I might or might not do, let me tell you now that I have no intention of running some scathing story on Pete Ross," he cut in, nearly rolling his eyes at the idea. 

She shut her mouth, then her eyes. "Good."

"I also have no intention of running the hero profile your sad little manboy pitched me."

Her lips thinned. "Why does everyone have to pick on poor Jimmy? He's actually been pretty nice about you, so..."

"Why are we wasting time with this?" Lex groaned. "I didn't ask you here to argue about your little admirers. I asked you here because I knew we'd need this." He moved to her, but slowly now. "You're right." He kept his eyes down as he approached her. "I manipulated you this morning to get you here." He glanced up. 

She straightened. "So you admit that? You knew..."

"I knew you'd be pissed." He ran a hand along the divider between the readers. "And you were. Eyes flashing, face flushed, chest heaving..." She hadn't moved, so he chanced letting his hand wander to her, running over the gray lapel of her blazer. "If you hadn't left that door wide open, I'd have had you right then." He let one finger meander to her neck. "I meant what I said, Sullivan, you're awful sexy when you're angry."

She closed her eyes as his finger brushed behind her ear. "No. You said cute."

"That, too." He moved that finger to her lips. "No good keeping all that anger bottled up."

Her mouth opened slightly, as did her eyes. "So maybe I should tell you what I really think of what you did."

He chuckled and moved his finger down her chin, down her neck, down... "I was going to suggest we divert all that indignation into something more pleasurable."

"You would." She let out something resembling a chuckle herself. "You even make it sound... reasonable."

He leaned in. "Allow me to give you further evidence of my powers of persuasion..."

She squeezed her eyes shut and grasped the finger that was hovering at her buttons. "No," she breathed.

He stopped, just a hair's breadth from her lips. "No?" He smiled. He could feel her trembling against him. "You don't mean that."

"I want to mean it," she gasped. She released his finger and moved to the side. "I have to." She stood, her back to him, still trembling. "It's been going through my mind all day," she said lowly, almost to herself. "Me, my mother... We never asked to be this way. We didn't deserve to be..."

"No. We're past that." He grasped the divider hard. She had to remind him. She just had to remind him that there was more to her. Couldn't they just be... "I thought we were done with ancient history by now."

"Are we? Are you?" She turned, staring at him, her eyes wide and pleading. "Can you tell me in all honesty that you don't have some facility somewhere, waiting for people like me, like Pete..."

"If you're still blaming me for what I did, allow me to point out Smallville's unexplained death toll. You can call it 'crimes against humanity' a hundred times and I'll still know that I was doing humanity a favor. Your mother's powers were dangerous, even with the best of intentions." Was it wrong to use her? Maybe. But there was an end to it. "And yours..." He didn't even want to think about hers. He nearly didn't want to know. Because then he'd have to act. "Do you know, Chloe, what... Don't even tell me," he hissed. "But do you know what kind of threat you could pose if..."

"Never you mind about me," she said, looking away. "I couldn't hurt anyone if I tried. Just Pete... Just... Tell me you'll leave him alone." She turned her eyes to him then. "This isn't about a story, Lex. Just promise me..."

"I don't answer to you," he said, straightening. "I will act in whatever way I see fit without checking with you or with Clark or..."

"No. I get it," she cut in. "I just... wish I'd got it sooner." She turned and moved to the door.

He stared at her back until she reached for the lock. "And here I thought this was separate."

She stilled, still turned away. "It can't be, Lex." She turned back. "I can't do it anymore. I try to separate and justify and rationalize, but... I was right that first night. I've been sleeping with the enemy."

"So you admit that you and Clark are aligned against..."

"This has nothing to do with Clark," she growled. "This is me and you. I'm a meteor freak, Lex. I'm nothing more than something that jumped out of a petri dish to you in the end."

"I never said..."

"You didn't have to say it. Me, whoever you're holding in some undisclosed location... It's all the same. I can't pretend I'm special just because we used to fuck."

"Used to..."

"Yes. Used to," she cut in, yelling now. "Starting now, this is in the past tense. I can't ignore it now. I can't cross enemy lines just to scratch an itch. This is too important." She turned back to the door.

He rushed forward, pushing it closed and her against it. "What is?"

She pulled at the door. "Let me go."

"No. If you're calling me the enemy, then you tell me what I'm the enemy of." Her hair smelled like oranges and cinnamon, but he resisted the urge to bury his face in it.

"I told you..."

"You told me nothing. You act like I'm going to lock you away, but you know..." He gave in to the urge, moving just an inch closer to her hair, feeling it against his lips. "You have to know..."

She straightened between him and the door. "I know you don't answer to me," she said, stiffening against him. "I know what I am to you, Lex." She pushed her elbow into his stomach and he stumbled backward. She pulled at the door. "I'm a freak. I'm a science project."

"Is that what you..."

She stood in the open doorway, looking at him like he was the freak. "You know what I am. And it doesn't even matter that..." She squeezed her eyes shut. "I can't do this, Lex. I can't separate whatever the hell it is we are from what you are."

He righted himself. "And what am I?"

She stared back at him, three feet away and yet... 

"You're lost," she said softly, her eyes strangely unfocused. "I didn't even think it consciously, but it was there. This idea that, just by doing it, I'd save you in every way. I think I even convinced myself it had worked somehow..." She trailed off, her eyes suddenly widening.

He squinted at her. "What the hell does all that mean?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, looking away. "Nothing at all, obviously. It doesn't even matter." She turned away, her steps clicking down the hall. 

He caught the door before it shut. 

"I can't save you," he heard echoing behind her.

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CHAPTER TWENTY

Notes: This is a tough one to get through, not just because it's a suck-ass episode, some parts aside, but because it's tough to weave my little affair through it. But I'm plodding on.

Chloe did not have her blazer on in the scene before confronting Lex. Then she had it on when she did. I wank that it was because she wasn't going to let him eye her lady bits when she was so angry.