Chloe Sullivan knew it
was a mistake when she bought it. And, now, it rests there taunting her. Rich
and beautiful and fulfilling and just out of reach. Sensing a metaphor coming
on, Chloe focuses all her attention on the bottle of Martinelli's apple juice.
No metaphor to see here, move along. This is just about a product that
encourages you to "drink your apple a day" and then seals the manna from heaven
under a lid that will not come off.
Sitting alone in the Talon on a
Saturday night, Chloe admires her hands that practically glow pink from the
strain of trying the top. A moment ago, she had -- more or less discretely --
tapped the bottle against the table to break the vacuum. No go. And no help in
sight. Pete was on a date and Clark was somewhere puppy-dogging after Lana.
Earlier that afternoon, Chloe had heard the words "Lana", "Shakespeare" and
"Metropolis" and had promptly started concentrating on naming all the Seven
Dwarfs, all the reindeer and the entire periodic table.
"...fermium,
mendelevium, nobelium..." Chloe murmurs as she surveys the male inhabitants of
the Talon: Jock, Jock, Jock, Science Nerd, Boy Billionaire, Jock, AV Nerd. She
knows that Roger the AV Nerd is her best shot but she cannot shake the image of
him walking around school with his hands slid under the waistband of the back of
his pants.
Making the decision that no one who fondles his own ass
should touch her beverage of choice, Chloe hoists herself to her feet. She takes
her bag, the juice, a breath and walks in an unswerving line toward Lex
Luthor.
Stopping at his table, Chloe forces him to turn his attention way
from a pile of invoices. She extends the bottle toward him with a shrug, "Grip
strength issue."
Unsure of exactly what to do, Lex motions for Chloe to
sit. "Please join me."
Chloe drops into the booth opposite him with the
bottle still extended.
The two share a look and a moment of silence.
Chloe raises an eyebrow and offers, "I'm asking you to open this bottle
for me because my girly hands aren't strong enough?"
"Oh?" Lex, a little
out of his depth, takes the apple juice from her.
"Bottles arrive open in
the Luthor world?" Chloe smiles.
"Or with the cap resting, only slightly
screwed, on top."
"Now, I have absolutely no hope that I'll be drinking
apple juice this evening."
"Ever heard the Chinese proverb, 'Stop up your
mouth like a bottle...' " Lex begins.
" '...and guard your thoughts like
a fort.' " Chloe finishes.
Chloe catches a trace of surprise on his face,
which he covers by quickly finding the bottle completely fascinating. He tries
to open it without any real effort. The lid stays tight. He tries again with
some actual effort. Again, the lid does not budge. The third time he puts pretty
much everything he has into it. The glass of the bottle squeaks in his grip. The
lid waits for his next move.
"Sorry," Chloe offers.
A little red
in the face, Lex glances up at her and asks, "For what,
exactly?"
"Hurting your hands and possibly your pride."
" 'Pride
is not a bad thing when it only urges us to hide our own hurts - not to hurt
others'."
"George Eliot. Rather reassuring. It doesn't sound like you
plan on braining me with the bottle." Chloe rakes her hair out of her
face.
"I've been hit over the head about a dozen times since I moved to
Smallville. I have no intention of braining anyone else."
"Maybe you
should try tapping?"
More than a little confused, he lifts his chin,
"What?"
"Tapping the bottle lid against the table to try to get the seal
to break."
Fairly frustrated, Lex obeys. The knocking sound builds to a
crescendo that would rival a construction site. Chloe glances around the Talon
but all eyes are averted. The pounding stops.
Chloe watches Lex once more
grappling with the bottle. He straightens and demands, "Who designed this
bottle?"
"The same Nazi engineers who made the VW Bug?"
"Similar
in overall shape and design. I think you might have something."
"But no
apple juice."
They say the words in a kind of jerking tandem. Chloe
laughs and Lex offers a few stutters that could be construed as a laugh by
someone with a generous spirit.
"I like you better like this," Chloe says
after a moment.
"Beaten and irritated?"
"Not trying so hard to be
friendly."
Uncomfortable with her observation, he once again challenges
the bottle lid. Chloe studies his thin hands struggling with the metal and
glass.
A vein begins to twitch near his temple as he half-stutters, "I
bet you wish Clark was here right now."
"Pete is actually more useful
with bottle opening. Clark almost always breaks the top completely
off."
"Of course he does," Lex practically grunts under the strain of
testing the bottle.
"Lex, please, just forget it."
He looks her
directly in the eye.
Chloe shakes her head, "Okay, so you're not going
to forget it. Can we try something else?"
"I am open to suggestions," Lex
concedes as he places the bottle between them.
"A knife would work. A
metal butter knife."
"How?" Lex rubs his hands.
"You slide the
blade between the lid and the glass and you apply pressure until the vacuum
pops. We just have to find a knife."
Producing a heavy metal
letter-opener from his pile of papers, Lex almost grins, "How about this?"
Chloe reaches for the letter-opener; Lex pulls back.
"I'm going
to finish this," Lex flips the bottle over. "What do I do?"
"You see
where the lid protrudes. You pick a spot between the protrusions and slide the
blade in. Then rock the knife back and forth. Or wiggle it. Or whatever works
for you."
"If I weren't so exhausted I'd tease you about those innuendo
laden sentences."
"If you're exhausted from just trying to open a bottle
of juice I don't think I want you to tease me."
Surprised, he looks up at
her just as the lid of the juice gives with a very audible POP.
She
flashes her best smile as she takes the bottle from him, removes the lid and
drinks. She offers him a sip but he shakes his head.
"Too sweet. It's
what they give people in rehab to ease them onto a sugar high."
Much too
abruptly, Chloe turns and focuses on the nearly deserted street just outside the
window.
Lex shifts a little in his seat as he realizes that he has given
something away. His voice is lacking any inflection when he speaks, "It looks
like you have the makings of a real exclusive."
"I can see the headline
'Luthor Beaten by Martinelli Apple Juice Bottle. Must Rely on Girl Technique to
Open Lid'."
"Long headline."
"Hey, I'm the editor and half the
staff. I can do anything I want." Chloe forces herself to turn from the window.
"And the other isn't my business."
"What happened to the
take-no-prisoner's reporter?"
"You hit it lucky. It's Saturday, 'Subtlety
Saturday'. I'm trying to learn to be subtler. I only recently found out there
was a "b" in the word."
"A lot of people would try to use what I said to
their advantage."
"If it confirms your distrust of all humanity I could
come to you for all my bottle opening needs. It takes you awhile but you sure
are determined." Chloe tries a reassuring smile. "And your past problems aren't
exactly part of my preferred oeuvre."
"Not a meteor mutation just a
generic human weakness?"
"Exactly," Chloe states as she resumes her
detailed study of the street. "My Dad has my car and should be picking me up
soon."
"Your father is a good man. I envy you."
Chloe faces Lex
and speaks quickly, "When I was seven at a LuthorCorp picnic your father
purposely stepped on my toes. Dad maintains that it was an accident but I don't
think so."
"You probably seemed too happy and my father wanted to squash
you."
"It must have been hard growing up with that possibility looming
over you at all times."
The blast of a car horn pulls Chloe's gaze back
to the street. Spotting her father, she waves at him as he parks the car.
"There's my ride. And thanks for the assist."
All energy and motion, she
is almost to the door when she swivels back around to face him. "I do like you
better now. When you're just being and not trying to be."
Lex shifts a
little and when he speaks his voice is sharp. " 'The hearts of small children
are delicate organs. A cruel beginning in this world can twist them into curious
shapes. The heart of a hurt child can shrink so that forever afterward it is
hard and pitted as the seed of a peach.' "
Recognizing the trace of a
threat in his voice, Chloe backs toward the door. She realizes she is being
warned away. A little angry, she shoves open the door and steps outside.
Lex watches her at the door as she motions for her father to wait. She
yanks a small notebook from her bag and writes with both speed and purpose. She
tears the page free, scurries over to the window and holds up the paper that
reads: "Carson McCullers."
He half-smirks at her. She flips the page
where she has scrawled the rest of the quotation which reads: 'Or, again, the
heart of such a child may fester and swell until it is misery to carry within
the body, easily chafed and hurt by the most ordinary things.'
She darts
off leaving the paper clinging to the glass.
ONE WEEK LATER
Still
in her pajamas, Chloe settles down in her bed with a copy of the Sunday Daily
Planet. Her eyes fix on something on the page. A smile almost seems to light up
her face. She drops the paper to the floor and grabs a pillow to smother her
laughter.
A small headline on the front page of the business section
reads, "LuthorCorp Acquires S. Martinelli & Company."
