Restless Nights (Chapter Seventeen)

Most of the reason this chapter is late is because it’s been hard to get my mind on fic when I have money troubles. Nothing huge. I’m always this way through January and February as those are lean months in my line of work – probably in every line of work save accountant. 

Anyway, it’s just hard to concentrate with that on my mind. But I managed to sit myself down and get to it. Music helped. Sometimes, when I’m blocked, I try to think about my fic as a movie. What song might be playing during a specific scene if it were? Then I just put it on loop with my headphones and get down to it, hoping the song helps me keep the tone of the moment. As I needed extra help for this chapter, this was my “soundtrack” for this chapter in order.

“Portions for Foxes” by Rilo Kiley 
“I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl” – Nina Simone
“Touch My Body” – Mariah Carey
“Sideways” – Citizen Cope
“Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” – Diana Krall

I'm curious about if you know where each fit for me. 

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

On to the chapter…

“I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”

Chapter Seventeen

“It’s here. It has to be here. I mean, he said by today,” Chloe babbled as she moved to the mailboxes and started searching for her keys, which were not in her purse. “You know what? If it’s not here, we call. Just tell him to sum up what he’s found because we don’t even need the hard copy. Just to know is…” 

“Would you just see if it’s here before you start freaking out about if it’s not?” Clark cut in, bending down and picking up some of the stuff she was now pulling out of her purse.

“I can’t see because I can’t find my keys. Stupid pregnancy brain. I probably locked them in,” she growled. “Okay. You go bust down my door and…”

“You gave me a spare,” Clark sighed. “Remember? Besides, your keys are in your pocket. You’ve been playing with them the whole walk over here.”

“Oh, yeah.” She pulled them out as Clark continued picking up the debris from her purse. She’d help, but bending was not her thing these days and she was too overexcited to care about food receipts and lipstick right now. “Bill, junk, coupon, bill…”

“We need to fight?”

“Star labs,” she said, almost shrieked.

“What does she mean by that? We need to…”

“Huh?” She turned to Clark, who was frowning at Sarah’s scrap of homework. She snatched it back. “Never mind that.”

“Well, she put it in capital letters. What have you been saying that makes her think we need to fight? We don’t even have anything to fight about,” he grumbled. “I mean, we have some things to disagree about, but not actual fighting type…”

“Clark!” She held up the envelope. “They’re here.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Well?”

She stared at the envelope, then held it out. “You open it. I can’t do it.”

He took it. “Okay.”

“Wait! I want to open it.”

He gave it back. “Okay.”

She didn’t take it. “No, wait. You just look through a little and tell me if I want to open it or…”

“For crying out loud…” He tore it open and unfolded the packet.

Chloe squeezed her eyes shut. “What does it say?”

“I’m trying to figure that out. There are all these spiky grafts and charts.”

She opened her eyes to find him leafing through hopelessly. “Oh, just go the end. There has to be a summary.” She grabbed it back, reading aloud from the last page. ”Based on the results of the genetic systems, see figure one, two… blah, blah, blah… John Doe is the father of both Jason and Jennifer Doe…”

“God, I knew it,” Clark breathed.

Chloe turned to him, grabbing back her purse and stuffing the mail in. “I think we both did. I don’t even know what to do with this.”

“I know. How do you tell someone that…”

“You still want to tell her?”

Clark blinked at her. “Chloe, what did we get this for if not to give it to her?”

She stared at him for a long time. “We need to get to work.”

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

“What about the safe-drop?” Clark grunted. 

“We have it in paragraph two,” Chloe grunted back

“But there’s not enough detail. What if someone wants to use it or….”

“Clark, this is a holiday piece. We can only glance over it. We can put an asterisk and include links at the bottom.” She sat back and rubbed her eyes, then looked across at him. He was staring at Tess’ office. “And stop looking that way. We are not...” She shut her mouth quickly. “We’re not doing the thing you think we should do,” she said before standing, moving to the break room.

“Then why did we even bother?” he hissed, hot on her heels. “Why have it?”

“Well… to have it.” She sifted through the tea. Only chamomile. No decent decaf. “To know why she is here and why she does the things she…”

“But she doesn’t know she’s a Luthor,” he whispered, moving close behind her. “She needs to.”

She glanced around, giving up on the tea and pulling him toward the copy room. “Why? She already has everything she would have had if this was revealed. Lex left her carte blanche on the whole…”

“This isn’t about the estate or the business. She deserves to know where she came from and why she was brought here.”

“And what if this has her really following in her predecessor’s footsteps. Clark, she could go after us even more than she already…”

“Chloe, what more can she do? Is she always trying to nose in? Yes. But we’re dealing with her. This isn’t about us. This is about what’s right. You know as well as I do that it would be wrong to hold this away from her.”

She groaned and moved back to their desks. “Do we have a draft, here?”

He sighed and sat back down. “I think we do.” He closed the document she’d sent him. “Just make a note to insert links and… I guess hyperlinks in the online edition so the programs…”

“Way ahead of you.” She sent it to the printer, then stood, pulling her purse to the edge of her desk. “We can bring her that,” she dug in her purse and pulled out the STAR labs packet, “and this.”

“What?”

She strode to the printer, waiting for the pages.

“Chloe, are you going to…”

“You want to do it? Let’s do it. Get it over with.”

“Now?”

“You just said she deserves to know and also made me feel horribly guilty for sitting on this.” She took a deep breath. “I seriously don’t know if this is another case of pregnancy brain or if you’re right, but I don’t want to wait.”

“But right now?”

“It’s Christmas next week. Maybe we can consider this our little present to her.” She decisively plucked out their pages and moved to Tess’ office.

“Chloe!”

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

Tess glanced up as Chloe Sullivan tossed open her office door, followed closely by Clark Kent. “Chloe, you can’t just…”

“I’ve got our draft,” Chloe said over him, moving to her desk and putting down a stack of papers.

Tess shrugged. “Good. I was wondering if you’d ever get it done.”

“Well, you said to have it today.”

“By today,” Tess corrected, pulling the small stack to her. “I was hoping you two would get it to me earlier, but I guess I was overestimating your work ethic.”

Chloe laughed, which was off-putting.

“What’s so funny?” Tess stared closely at her.

“This. In general. You see, we’ve been working pretty hard. Just… not always on this. We have other scoops, you know.” Chloe moved to the window and pulled the blinds shut, which was also very off-putting. “Right now, I have a big one. I just don’t think I’ll see it in print, which seems to be the story of my life…”

“Chloe, wait,” Clark cut in.

“You said you wanted to do this,” she shot back at him.

“Yes. But if we do this, we do it all the way – the right way.” He held up a hand, then left the room, leaving Chloe staring at Tess, one hand on the blinds, the other clutching folded papers. It wasn’t long before he came back in, a briefcase in hand. “Okay. I know you’ve got this office monitored, so shut it off.”

Tess shook her head as he placed it on her desk and opened it. “This is my office. Why would I…” She dropped the papers. “What are you two even…”

“What is all that?” Chloe asked as Clark pulled a folder out of his briefcase.

“My notes, clippings, copies.”

Chloe gasped. “You saved all of it. You said you’d destroy everything that wasn’t story-related.”

“I was thinking of sending it all anonymously,” he said, glancing at Tess. 

Chloe huffed. “But we didn’t discuss…”

“I thought she deserved to know what we had, even if it didn’t turn out the way we thought.” 

Tess shook her head. “Know what?”

He gave her a sad sort of smile. “Everyone deserves to know themselves. Are there recording devices in here?” he asked lowly, ignoring her question.

“Of course there are. This is my office,” she repeated.

“You need to turn them off. I don’t think you want this intercepted,” he said on a whisper. “There could be someone out there that could find a way to use this against you.”

“I have no idea what you two are talking about.” Somehow, Tess wasn’t sure she wanted to know. This whole cloak-and-dagger routine had her on edge. 

“Look back on this last year, Tess,” Clark said tiredly, shutting his briefcase again. “I’ve saved your life even when you’ve made mine hell. And that’s not just some kind of policy for me. I like to think there’s hope for you. That you won’t turn into him, that you’ll see things the way they are. We have information that you – you personally – need to know, but I’m only giving it to you under two conditions.”

“What do you think you have?” she whispered. Had they found Lex? Had they not only found him, but the things he was doing, the things he refused to tell her? But if they’d found him, surely they’d know she had a part in it. Or was this them disclosing Chloe’s not-so-well-hidden pregnancy? Chloe was openly rubbing her lower back even now. Was this…

“First, the cameras and sound off,” Chloe sighed, moving to stand next to Clark. “He’ll know if they’re running.”

Tess stared at them, facing her across her desk, then turned on her monitor, pulling up the control panel and shutting down the cameras, trying not to be nervous. She forced a laugh. “It’s refreshing that you actually admit Clark has certain extra…”

“We have another condition,” Clark broke in, still clutching that briefcase. “You stop monitoring us. No more bugs at our desks or in the break room or…”

“I have no idea…”

“We’re not idiots, Mercer,” Chloe said, leaning heavily on the desk. “I know you might try to construe all this as your right as our employer, but keeping an eye on who’s IM-ing on company time is a far cry from bugging our nameplates and you know it. It stops now.”

Tess had nothing to say to that and wasn’t sure it was something she would agree to. “Let me see if I have this right,” she finally said in measured tones. “Are you attempting to blackmail me?”

“No,” Clark sighed. “I’m trying to help you.”

“And how does whatever’s in there,” she nodded at the briefcase, “help me?”

“Everyone deserves to know who they really are,” he said softly.

Her eyes widened. “And what do you think you know about me?”

“More than you do, actually,” Chloe said, nodding. “See, we’ve been gathering information for this story and… Well, we've gathered more information on you every step of the way.” 

Tess' eyes narrowed. “So you have been using company time to…”

“Don’t act like the injured party, here. You’ve been on us from the start. You wanted us here to keep an eye on us and…” Chloe stopped as Clark placed a hand on her shoulder, taking a deep breath. “You dug into us and we returned the favor, simple as that,” she finished more calmly.

Clark opened the briefcase. “We started in Louisiana and worked backwards,” he said, his tone rather businesslike. “We managed to get your inoculation records and were able to figure out you started out in Metropolis.” He pulled out a folder. “At St. Louise’s.”

She stared at the folder a long time before opening it, her eyes wide. “I could never,” she breathed, staring at the copies inside, “find anything. How…”

“We’re good at what we do,” Chloe said evenly. “But it was you. You were at that home. There’s even a picture.”

Tess leafed through the papers, breathing heavily. The print-out of that swingset. She knew she'd known that swingset. Her breath hitched as a photo of a little girl fell out, standing in front of a blackboard looking sullen -- a tiny thing with red hair and large eyes. Her eyes. 

“We weren’t the only ones who asked about you there,” Clark said.

She glanced up at him, dazed. “Did you find my…” She stopped, shaking her head. “No. I don’t care. I don’t want to know. If they cared, they would have found me.”

“But he did find you,” Clark said gently. “Lex tracked you down and hired you and watched you.” He leaned down slightly. “Tess, why do you think you were pulled out of a lab and put in charge of all this? Why do you think you were scouted and hired in the first place?”

Because he saw something in me. That was what Lex always said. He saw potential. He also implanted monitors in her eyes. No matter what he said now, it was hard to forget that. But lately they’d been so close, she’d started to think she could forgive… Her mind finally caught up, finally understood what they were saying. “That’s not… there’s no way you could know if…”

“There is,” Chloe said, opening that packet still in her hand. “You see, you can test shared paternity between siblings. We… Well, Clark actually took the liberty of getting cheek swabs and we sent them away.”

She wasn’t sure if she felt horribly violated or horribly confused. “But how would you get Lex’s…”

“Not Lex.” Chloe handed her the packet. "We didn’t share your names, but we tested you with Lucas.”

“Lucas,” she said dully. “I read about him.”

“Well… Maybe you should look him up,” Clark said, something like a smile. “I mean, you have a half-brother out there. That’s family and… I don’t know. If you want to…”

“I don’t know what I want to…” Tess broke off, her eyes filling. “I don’t know what to do with this.”

“That’s up to you, what you do with this.” Clark offered her a sad sort of smile. “We just thought you had a right to know.”

“Yes. Thank you,” she said, barely thinking, staring at the blurring papers in front of her. 

“There’s probably one more thing you should know, though I guess you already do know.” It was Chloe speaking now.

Tess glanced up, dazed. “There’s more?”

“Nothing huge.” Chloe cradled her stomach. “I’m just going to need some time off in a few months, probably in March. I’ll look over policy as to how much time I’m entitled to and submit the forms to Karen.”

“Good. You do that,” Tess whispered. She barely heard them leave, her mind was swimming. She had a brother out there somewhere. She had family, living family. She had a father in common with Lucas and… Her eyes narrowed and she crumpled the DNA test in her hand. She had another brother and she knew where he was. 

She stood, gathering the papers and shoving them into her bag. She was in the mood for a little family reunion right now.

********

“That was tense,” Chloe breathed when they made it back to their desks.

“That was unplanned,” Clark grumbled.

“And were we supposed to plan it? Rehearse a pretty speech? Do a slide show? We told her and it’s done.”

“I know. It’s just… Did you see the way she rushed out? Maybe we should have cushioned it somehow.” Clark frowned and picked up his nameplate and hers before dropping them into his briefcase. 

She supposed he’d destroy them. She wondered if they’d end up with new ones just as wired for sound. But, as Tess had to know they weren’t putting up with it anymore, she thought not. “There was no way to soften the blow.” Chloe shook her head and sat back. “She had no idea, though. I always thought she must know somehow, deep down…”

“Not now,” Clark cut in. He nodded to his briefcase, as if to say they still shouldn’t be talking freely.

“You’re right.” She sat up straighter. “Anyway, story’s in, whatever she does with it. I’ve got to finish up city hall and...”

“And you have a form to fill out.” He stood and moved around to her desk. “I’m pretty much done the police blotter. So why don’t I finish that up for you and we can clock out early.”

Chloe glanced toward the office, then back up at him. It was tempting. “Should we?”

“Work’s in. Boss is out and I kind of think we’ve earned a half-day today.”

“You just keep ending up right today, Clark Kent.” 

He chuckled and pulled out her chair. “Must be my day.”

Chloe stood and winced. 

He stilled before taking her seat. “What? What is it? What’s…”

“Nothing. Calm down,” she hissed. “It’s just my feet. These shoes are killing me.”

Clark glanced down. “Why are you still wearing heels? I told you that you shouldn’t be…”

“Because I still can,” she hissed at him before moving off.

By the time they neared her place, her winces had turned to grimaces and Clark seemed to be torn between worry and an annoying sort of smugness. “I could run back to your place and get you something that doesn’t…”

“No. It’s just for a few more blocks. I can handle it. Besides, I bought these last year and never took them out of the box. I’m not about to take them off until…”

“Until they’re filled with your blood?”

“It’s not that bad,” she lied. That had been true this morning. Her resolution to wear every shoe she could squeeze into that wasn’t downright orthopedic had seemed reasonable last week, even this morning. She did want to get her money’s worth. But as the day wore on, that squeeze had turned into a pinching vise grip that strengthened with every step. She fought the urge to grunt with every fashionable little click.

“Nope. That’s it.”

Her world spun for a moment and she found herself being hefted up. “Clark!”

“Can’t take it anymore,” he said, striding forward, holding her like a damned baby.

She secured her purse and glowered at him. “This is embarrassing.”

He rolled his eyes. “You just said it was just a few blocks. I think you can take it.”

“You are so annoying today.”

“I thought you said I was right today. Like about everything.”

“I knew that would go to your head.”

“You know we did the right thing today. I might not have wanted to do it right then, but…”

“Well, I was right about that. At least we got all that drama out of the way before Christmas.” She got ready for him to finally put her down when they approached her building. But no. He held on.

“Keys?”

“Are you nuts? Last I checked, you didn’t come equipped with extra hands. Put me down.”

He grinned, but did so. He followed her up. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

She turned at her door. “Tess? I don’t know. I can’t think this would be bad news. She has an even more legitimate claim to the whole empire now and a brother. I didn’t have much interaction with Lucas, but he stayed far enough away that he has to be something close to normal, so…” She trailed off, staring at his briefcase, thinking of the bugged nameplates. “Should we even be talking so freely?"

He shook his briefcase. “They’re done for. I took them up to the roof while you were finishing up with Karen.”

She groaned and moved to her couch, dropping herself on it. “I’m more worried about Karen right now. I’ve seen her gossip about smaller things than this.” She laid a hand on her stomach. “Everyone’s going to know.”

“To be fair, I think they already suspect.” He sat on the other end. “And they would have known for sure by next month.”

She glared at him. “When I’m a whale, you mean?”

“I never said…”

“Oh, ignore me. I think these shoes are pinching my brain, too.” She started to bend over to get them, but that kind of thing was getting less and less comfortable these days. 

“Just let me…” Clark bent and pulled the shoes off with an exaggerated grunt.

“Shut up.”

He chuckled and pulled her feet into his lap, rubbing lightly at the red marks. “You need to get some shoes that aren’t torture devices.”

“I have some. They’re hideous.”

He dug his thumbs into the balls of her feet. “I don’t know much about foot pain or high heels from experience, but it’s probably that all the weight is here.” He pressed a little.

“That feels nice.”

“Yeah?” He did it again, then on the other foot. “How’s that?”

“Much better,” she sighed, leaning on the couch’s opposite arm and facing him. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to get one more day in a pretty shoe before it’s all rubber soled slip-ons or,” she shuddered, “Crocs.”

“Maybe you can find pretty ones.”

She closed her eyes and let out a hum as he rubbed at her heel. “It’s not even that. It’s that I’ll be short and stuck that way.”

“I don’t see any problem with that. It fits you. It’s like how, when I hug you, I can tuck right under my chin. It fits me, too,” he said softly.

She opened her eyes, letting out a long breath. One of his thumbs was grazing lightly over her ankle and she could feel it all over her. She wasn’t even sure he was aware what he was doing. But she was. And it needed to stop. “Maybe that’s enough,” she said, her voice shaky. She slipped her feet from his lap and sat up quickly. “You know, I’ll feel way better when I put my slippers on.” She stood and moved to her room. “Some slippers, some tea… Makes it all better.” She closed her door and sucked in a breath. 

Clark wanted her. If that one night, the way he was caressing her feet, and the fact that he seemed only too eager to talk about the idea of them was any indication, then that was pretty much a given. And, considering she was pacing her bedroom and rapidly fanning her face due to a footrub, she wanted Clark. So what was the problem? Hadn’t she had some kind of handle on what the problem was just this morning? Stupid pregnancy brain!

And that was it. That was the problem. Her hormones were going nuts right now and overriding all possibility of rational thought. She had to get past this. This was no time to be climbing all over him like she really wanted... She should tell him to go.

“I could make you some tea,” she heard him call through the door.

“Thanks. That would be great.” What? Well, she said she wanted tea, didn’t she? What was the harm in him fixing her a little something hot and steamy? 

Her cell rang from the living room. 

“Oh, thank God!” She stuffed her feet into her slippers and threw open the door.

Clark called from her kitchen. “Did you want me to…”

“No. I got it. It’s Dinah,” she mumbled, staring at the caller ID. That’s what she needed right now – Dinah to talk her out of this. “Hi. I seriously need your help right now,” she hissed without preamble.

Dinah laughed. “I was just going to say the same thing to you.”

“Why?”

“Oliver’s staying till Christmas Eve. Just business stuff and I am going insane stuck in Star City and I don’t want to abuse jet privileges. Could you look me up a cheap flight sometime tonight? You’re good at that kind of...”

“Sure. That’s no problem.” 

“So what’s your problem?”

She took a deep breath. “Clark’s here.”

“So? Isn’t that pretty much an everyday occurrence?”

“It’s different,” she whispered frantically. “We haven’t talked about… I mean, I haven’t told anyone, not even Sarah and I don’t know what…”

“What do you want?”

And that was exactly the problem. She turned to find Clark in her tiny kitchen’s doorway, holding two boxes.

“I’ve got English breakfast or decaf chai, but you’re out of that vanilla creamer and I know you only like chai with…”

“Either’s fine, thanks,” she cut in hurriedly.

“But is milk…”

“Milk’s fine,” she said, then apologetically gestured to the phone.

“Oops. Sorry.”

Dinah sighed over the phone. “I kind of want my own personal servant, too. You think Clark can train Oliver?”

“That’s the problem. He’s making me tea and carrying me to my door and rubbing my feet,” Chloe whispered. 

Dinah chuckled. “My God, that boy wants to sleep with you so hard. I told you.”

“I need to get him out of here and I keep… not doing it.”

“Because you don’t want to. Let me warn you now, the pampering stops as soon as they get you in bed. Maybe not right after, but a few weeks in and…”

“He’s not getting me into bed. I’m not… Maybe we kissed a little, but…”

“You kissed?” Dinah gasped. “I kinda want you to kick him out right this second and tell me everything. Maybe it’s enough to be right... for now.”

“No. You’re… You’re just a little bit right. Clark’s not like that.”

She snorted. “So if you stripped off your clothes right now, he’d run away, virtue aflutter?”

“No, he’d run away in horror because I’m a giant potato. But I mean he’s not doing all this to get me into bed.” Of course, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t object. Neither would she. Was her room messy right now or… “No, I can’t do this. I need to think straight. I need how to learn to be alone with him without… Just help me,” she finished on a groan.

“Okay. You’re obviously upset. Here’s what you do…”

“Yeah?”

“You just sit Clark down…”

“Okay.”

“And then you sit on his lap…”

“Dinah…”

“Then you stick your tongue down his throat.”

“This is not helping.”

“Well, I think it would help the both of you out a lot.”

“You don’t get it. He wants to talk about us and if there’s an us and I don’t think I’m up to it and yesterday I almost cut all my hair off except I couldn’t find the scissors and there’s just too much…”

“Okay. You’re stressed. I get it. You know what might help you relax?”

“If you say sex, I swear…”

“Well, you want to!”

“Of course I want to! I’m turned on every damned second! I can barely be around him! That doesn’t mean I’m going to sleep with him!”

There was a muffled crunching noise behind her.

“Dinah, I’ll call you back,” she said quickly before hanging up. She took a deep breath before turning around. 

Clark was standing there, dripping pieces of her mug in his hand.

“That was a conversation that… It’s not what it sounds like. You see, I was… I was just talking to Dinah about symptoms and… See, this is like what I was saying with pregnancy brain and weird thoughts and… It’s not about you.” 

“It sounded like it might have been a little bit about me,” he said dully.

“See, that’s because you just heard that part and…” She stopped, forcing a laugh. “You know, I’ve never considered myself an overtly sexual person and, at the moment… See, that’s why it’s funny. Because this is all happening now, when I’m like this fat load and…”

“I don’t think you’re fat,” he said, still just standing there. 

“Thanks, but you know, you didn’t exactly hear that right. I was talking about being… um…”

“Turned on?”

“Just in general,” she said quickly. “Just because of all the hormone stuff. It doesn’t mean I want you to…”

“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “I didn’t think you did. I just. Sorry that’s… um… happening to you,” he finished awkwardly. “If you need any help with…” He stopped, his eyes widening. “I should clean this up.”

“I can get it. You know, you should go. You probably have things to do and…”

“Oh, definitely. I mean… Yeah. I mean, you know, it’s cold out and I’ve been meaning to check on the…” He snapped his fingers.

“Animals,” she finished for him.

“Yeah. Them. Okay.” He moved to the couch and picked up his briefcase. He stopped in front of her, seemed to start holding out his hand as if to shake hers. 

Even worse, she almost moved to do the same before they both laughed and moved around each other.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“So will I… see you... at that time.” Just stop talking! She quickly pasted on a closed-mouth smile and kept it on until he was on the other side of her door. “My God! Will you get it together?” she growled at herself before dropping to the couch and pulling a pillow over her face.

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

Tess caught sight of her face in the mirror above the bar. She barely recognized it. All she could see right now was pieces of Luthor, all falling into place.

Oval lips, just a little thick on top (Lex), a high forehead with a widow’s peak (Lionel), gray-blue eyes (Lex), thick hair and a straight nose (Lionel) with a slight upturn (Lex), a rounded chin…

Lex and Lionel both had pointed chins. She’d seen only a tiny image of Lucas when she’d first taken over here and didn’t bother to look closer. Maybe Lucas had her rounded chin from some buried Luthor ancestor. Or was that from her mother? Who was her mother? She’d never asked. Then again, there were no results in the packet for her mother. She knew. She’d read everything over and over, getting drunker and drunker as she waited for Lex. Maybe Lex knew. Or maybe Lucas knew.

Right now, she just wanted Lex to show up. It was getting dark. She’d texted him hours ago, not trusting herself to call, saying she wanted to have dinner together. He’d said he’d be back by then. She didn’t know where he was – yet another deep, dark secret she wasn’t allowed to know. Her glass shook in her hand and she stilled it with the other before taking another sip, Lex’s words from months ago echoing in her mind.

Little pointer, limit your drinking. I probably spent most of my last two years here half-bombed and I think it showed.

She took another sip as she didn’t much feel like taking his advice at the moment. All this time, she’d wondered what it was about him that spoke to her, what this strange sort of connection between them meant. And now she knew. And it was as humiliating as it was enlightening.

The teasing, the strange, almost needy looks from him, the dinners, the “quality time.” That was all brotherly bonding. Unfortunately, as he was a Luthor, it was all tied up in deceit. She’d read Lionel’s journals, the entries about Lex, about what he could and couldn’t know. She knew the mindset. Even those stark moments of sincerity were tinged with some kind of control over her. He was more like his father than he thought. 

She glanced up as the low whirr of the elevator broke the silence. He was here. She’d been so intent on waiting for him, rehearsing how to start, how to control the conversation, how to inflict pain on him if she possibly could. Yet, when the doors opened, she just felt tired of Luthors– tired of thinking about them, thinking like them. 

He smiled when he moved in. She wondered why, then realized she didn’t care.

“Where were you?”

Lex stilled, chuckling. “It’s not even five. Am I late? Are you keeping dinner hours with the elderly or…”

“No. I just wanted to know where you were, where you go,” she said baldly, topping off her drink. She might need more to get through this. “See, I know keep saying you’ll tell me when I’m ready, but then I wonder what it takes. What makes me ready to know the truth, Lex?”

“You’re drunk.”

“And I’m not even talking about your mysterious doings,” she went on, taking a rather defiant sip. “I’m just talking about simple truths. Why me? Why did I get,” she thought of Clark’s words, “plucked out of a lab and put in charge of all this?” She gestured vaguely around her. “You’ve never given me a solid reason. I mean, I know about the way you used me as your little video viewer. But that doesn’t answer everything. Why me in the first place, Lex?”

“I saw… potential in you. Competence, even, though that’s not apparent at the moment. Maybe I should order some coffee with dinner.” He picked up the phone.

“And why dinner?” she pressed on, moving toward him. “Is it some kind of mentor/mentee bonding exercise?”

“You really don’t like feeling left out, do you?” He rolled his eyes and started dialing. 

She slapped the phone out of his hand. “No. You answer me. I’m giving you one last chance to answer me,” she growled.

He sighed, giving her a rather pitying look that only made her angrier. “Maybe it’s your childhood. Maybe I’m just sympathetic to the plights of orphan girls.”

She slapped his face, then. “Don’t. Don’t make me some charitable act of yours. I know there’s more than that…”

“Maybe you’ve had enough to drink,” he broke in.

“Maybe it’s because we share a father, Lex,” she sneered. “Is that why?”

He paled. She saw it. “Exactly how much have you had to drink tonight?”

“Not enough for this.” She moved unsteadily to the glass table, the papers spread all over it. “You can’t deny it. I don’t know how you knew when I could never find anything, but I have it now. Saint Louise, Star Labs, my own damned picture, so many things that finally…”

“How did you find all this?” He moved to the table quickly, shaking his head.

She didn’t. Clark and Chloe did. But something told her he didn’t need to know that. “Does it matter?” She picked up the packet from Star Labs and shoved it at him. “It all led to this. A DNA match between siblings.”

He stared at it. “You took my…”

“Not yours. Lucas.” She let out a humorless laugh. “Now I wonder why not him? Why didn't you drag him into this?”

“He doesn’t want it,” Lex said dully, staring at the results. “And I don’t want him. The minute Lionel passed, he came out as a club promoter,” he said, spitting out the last two words in distaste.

She slapped the papers out of his hands. “Forget him. Look at me and tell me why… why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would you even want to know?” he hissed. “Do you want this name? Most of my life has been spent living down this fucking name! My father…”

“No! Don’t deflect this onto Lionel. This is about you and me. All this time, I had it wrong and I… For fuck’s sake, that night I thought you wanted to… You just gave me that vague bullshit about keeping things professional, but you could have just told me then.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why the hell not? Don’t you think it would have made this easier on me, understanding why I felt this closeness to you? I had it so confused with this crush…” She stopped, her eyes widening on him. “You sick bastard!”

“What…”

“You wanted me confused. You wanted my little schoolgirl crush intact,” she breathed. “You knew about it and you let me feel that way.”

“That’s not…”

“It made it easier, didn’t it? It made me loyal. Maybe, if I knew I had some claim to all this, I wouldn’t be so blindly…”

“You don’t have claim to all this, Tess,” he broke in. “Blood doesn’t give you any of the privileges of legitimacy. You think Lucas could leave his plastic world and land here and just take over? He couldn’t have, not without me making it happen. But I never thought of passing this on to him. Not for a second. He’s not like us. He never looks deeper. But I never doubted you. I was about to let the whole thing revert to the shareholders, then I found you and it changed everything. It changed my will. I chose you, Tess. I found you and I gave you everything you should have had!”

“Not the truth,” she said on a broken whisper. “That’s the worst part, Lex. If I knew, I would have stayed. If you told me, I would have stood by you through anything.” She drew in a shaky breath. “You talk about pitying the poor orphaned girl, but do you even know how it was in my family? I was always alone, always unsafe, always dreaming of finding who I was and thinking it has to be better. And it’s not,” she finished on a sob. She gathered the papers, shoving them into her bag.

His hand touched her arm. “Tess…”

“No. Let me go.”

“Let me call you a car. We can talk tomorr…”

“I don’t want anything else from you,” she growled, clutching her bag. “I’ll get a cab. I’ll pack up my things by the end of the week.”

“You’re not going to get anyone to move you this close to Christmas,” he said dully.

“Christmas,” she said on a sneer as she stormed to the elevator. “I almost forgot. Merry Christmas to me.”

*********

Christmas morning was never as good for grownups. Chloe laid in bed just before seven, listening to the squeals below her. They had larger unit and two kids and she just bet at least one of them had gotten just what they wanted. She knew that feeling, wishing and hoping for that one special thing and finding it there… half the time.

Her dad didn’t always get it right. She remembered, one particular year, she’d wanted the Play-doh Snack Shop. No real reason why. She supposed she was just fascinated by all the gadgets and presses, making fake burgers and fries. But it wasn't under the tree, come Christmas day. And she suspected, even then, that it had something to do with her father grumbling as he tried to scrape the stuff out of the carpets the last time she had anything Play-doh related. At the time, she thought Santa was taking pity on him, saving him the work.

But her dad did well enough. The first Christmas after her mom left, she said she didn’t care and he said he didn’t care. So she went to bed Christmas Eve without even a tree and woke up to a fully decorated living room complete with a fake cardboard fireplace in their old apartment and presents stacked high and balloons everywhere. She remembered kicking through them to find him asleep on the couch before she woke him to excitedly tell him what Santa had done the night before. 

And he let her think it, let her believe in it. She was long past believing in that, even with that strange coincidence back in 2006 where she'd been almost positive she'd had an encounter with Santa. It was kid’s stuff. But she rather loved that Gabriel Sullivan let her believe as long as possible. Even up to her teen years, she woke to that mysteriously decorated living room, wading through a sea of balloons to her father on the couch, waking up and pretending to be so surprised.

She turned to her nightstand and pulled her phone to her. The last she knew, he was in Big Bear, managing a ski resort. She’d memorized the number, 909-555-4102, transferred it from phone to phone to phone, but not without much idea of calling it. Maybe just for someone to find, so they could tell him if this dangerous life led her where she always feared. She pulled the number up, wondering if he was still there, wondering if she should just check and make sure…

Her finger pressed down before she had decided to let it and she heard it ringing. She started to hang up when she heard his voice. “It’s Kansas, it’s Chloe. It has to be… Chloe?”

She could only stare at it as his tinny voice went on.

“Chloe? Is that you? Honey? Chlo…”

She pressed the end button with a gasp. He answered. The other times, she got his voice mail. Sure, it was past midnight in California, but she rather hoped he wasn’t answering on purpose. That maybe he knew her life wasn’t something to be mixed up in. He hadn’t come to her wedding, after all. She hadn’t blamed him, had almost been relieved for him, after what happened.

Who had he been talking to?

She stared at her phone, wondering if he’d call back. It was silent. That was for the best. He didn’t need to be mixed up in all this. She placed a hand on her stomach and hefted herself up, shivered as the covers fell away. It was damned cold now. When she went to bed, she felt overheated. Stupid hormones.

They’d messed with more than her internal temperature this last week. She could hardly look at Clark. He was no better. They’d spent the whole week, up to yesterday at three, when The Planet closed down for a day and a half, avoiding looking, touching, apologizing if they so much as bumped arms. It was silly and she knew it and he knew it, but she doubted either of them knew what else to do. She wanted to jump his bones, he wanted to talk about the future. There was no happy middle ground here.

She pushed the thought away as she moved through her living room and past the tiny fake tree in front of her biggest window. Clark had insisted, even offered to get her a real one, but she didn’t relish the thought of vacuuming up pine needles. Besides, the one at Headquarters was big enough that Clark had to rip the top off just to fit it in the commissary. They’d have a nice enough holiday together. Everyone would be there. Well, Emil was visiting family again, but Sarah said she’d be there.

Sarah was effusively grateful for all the attention their story was gaining for the youth center. Chloe was almost surprised it had ended up published. Tess hadn’t been in all week. Karen said she was keeping tabs on things from her home office, taking an extended Christmas break.

Chloe wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Clark had, of course, gone to his default feeling: guilt. He seemed to think they’d put too much on her at once. Chloe kept pointing out that maybe this was a good thing, maybe Tess was taking a healthy break to process everything. Strangely, she didn’t worry about Tess. As much as the monitoring and the sneaky, Luthory ways annoyed her, there was something in Tess, something strong and maybe just a little heartier than in Lex. A woman couldn’t survive Tess’ life so far without being just a little bit adaptable.

She was in the middle of rejecting all the work of eggs and trying to figure out if mini donuts were an acceptable breakfast when there was a loud buzz from her door.

She groaned and moved to it, pressing the button. There was only one person that would be bothering her this early. “Merry Christmas, Bart,” she said as she held the button down.

“Nope. Taller,” a tinny, but feminine voice came back.

“You are not!” It was definitely Bart this time. “And stop ruining it, Dinah. One… two… three…”

“MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

Chloe backed away and pressed the button to let them in, her ears ringing. It was going to be an exhausting day. She could tell already.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN