"Chloe."

Silence.

"Chloe, get up."

A groan of protest.

"Chloe, don't force me to man-handle you."

"Fuck off."

Lex sighed in irritation and ran a hand down his face. He peered down at the blonde in his bed - struck by the simple oddity of the situation, because he hadn't even slept with her - and watched as she buried herself further beneath the covers, clamping one of the pillows over her head in an attempt to drown him out.

"What would your father say," he warned.

"He'd probably say fuck off, too," she mumbled and flung herself dramatically over to the other side of the bed. He was inwardly pleased he'd risen early, and that he wasn't currently laid where her flailing limbs had landed. She was obviously not a morning person and Lex briefly wondered how she managed to drag herself out of bed and dress herself appropriately while maintaining top punctuality at school. Some mysteries would never be solved.

"Chloe, it's nearly eleven. If you want to eat at all today, I suggest you get up. I don't have a problem leaving you here, you know."

"I hate you," she said tiredly, flipping back to her side of the bed and gazing up at him from beneath untamed locks. "I hate you with a passion, Lex Luthor." She curled up on her side, cradling a pillow to her chest and let her eyes droop closed again.

"Like I haven't heard that before," Lex muttered, hands buried deep into his pockets. Obviously he was going to have to take drastic measures in order to get this little madam out of bed, and if anyone was the master of drastic measures, it was Lex. With an exaggerated sigh, he bent down so his mouth was mere millimetres from her ear. "You know," he murmured softly, "I never considered you to be the Victoria Secret kind."

"Mmmwha'?"

Lex drew back, waiting for the inevitable response when his words finally sank in. Any minute now she would--

--there. Back rigid, breathing more pronounced. Her legs were pulled tight beneath her, and a split second later, she was upright and flustered.

"Ayahhhhhhh," was her only response before she was diving under the silk covers, a blush burning a trail across her cheeks and down her neck. She was gazing at him wide-eyed, the sheets clamped firmly around her form like she was afraid he was going to jump her priceless bones.

"Good morning, Miss Sullivan," he smirked, "nice of you to join us." He turned away from her, granting her at least some privacy so she could dress appropriately and cover her Victoria not-so-Secret panties. He hadn't meant to notice--hell, he hadn't even given it a second thought until she'd started throwing herself bodily about the bed and revealing inches and inches of creamy-white skin that disappeared beneath her bed-creased tank top. He had to say, for a girl her age, she'd certainly filled out good. Not that he'd noticed.

Ahem.

With a shake of his head, he strode towards the door, calling over his back, "I'll be in the kitchen when you're ready," and left her to dress in peace.

---

Chloe realised with some dismay that the blush colouring her cheeks had not stopped at her face; her usually pale skin was tinted a dusky red. It made her slightly more angry than she already was. Not only had Lex Luthor purposely embarrassed her, he'd made her blush uncontrollably, and no one made Chloe Sullivan blush--except Clark, but he'd always been the exception. Not even Pete's blatant crudeness could make her blush, and that boy could be damn vulgar when he wanted to be.

With an agitated sigh, she shimmied into her jeans, the scowl on her face growing intensely with every second that ticked by.

How dare he, she thought. Fair enough, they'd slept together (another blush, and now Chloe was feeling damn right homicidal), but that didn't give him the right to ogle her! Maybe she should have been more sensible and kept her partial nudity covered at all times, but was it her fault that she'd forgotten where she was and whose bed she was occupying? If she'd been at home, Lex would have discovered himself what a full-body blush felt like. The blonde was a big lover of cool sheets on naked flesh; the refreshing air from an open window sailing across her skin was a welcomed sensation. To put it bluntly, Chloe was a commando gal; the bare-all and end-all type-a-chick. Not that anybody knew that, but it was true nonetheless.

And why was she even thinking about that?

She sighed (she was doing that a lot lately, she realised) and picked herself up from the bed, hobbling towards the door that Lex had just passed through. Glancing warily through the door, she peered down the two-way hallway and pondered which direction to take. Firstly, she needed a bathroom where she could take a shower and more importantly, pee. But Lex was waiting for her in the kitchen, and it would be good to grab herself a nice cool glass of orange juice to rid the taste of cotton wool in her mouth. Also, she needed to ask him about her lack of clothes and how they were going to attain them before their arranged lunch together.

Tapping her fingers against the doorframe, she cast her head from left to right and finally opted for left. She limped pathetically down the hallway towards the first doorway she saw and peered in. A dimly lit study greeted her.

Concluding that Lex was most definitely not in here, she headed back the other way.

She hit jackpot when she reached the second doorway and found Lex sat comfortably at a large glass dining table, indulged in the mornings paper and drinking what she assumed was a cup of coffee. He looked so normal that Chloe was taken aback at first. He didn't look like the boy-billionaire who was the soon-to-be heir to his fathers throne--aka LuthorCorp. He looked, she thought, like any other young man sitting down for breakfast before he hurried off to work. If it weren't for the ever-present weariness that weighed heavily on his shoulders, she could have easily been fooled.

"I thought you'd got lost," he spoke, not looking up from his paper. Chloe moved towards the table and sat herself down opposite him, taking a moment to study her surroundings. It was a nicely decorated kitchen, but again, not what she would have expected of Lex.

"I did," she answered nonchalantly, folding her hands and resting them on the table. "We have a problem."

Lex glanced up and raised his cup to take a deep swallow of coffee. "We do?"

"Yes, we do," she nodded, "I have no clothes, apart from these, and I'm betting that what I'm wearing now won't be appropriate for wherever you're planning to take me."

"You're right," he answered, folding his newspaper and rising from the table. He placed his empty cup in the sink and turned back to look at her, leaning casually against the kitchen surface. "Your clothes are waiting for you outside the bathroom."

Chloe stared at him. "What do you mean, my clothes are waiting for me?"

"I mean precisely what I said," he replied blankly as if talking to a six-year-old.

"But--" She was stumped. Had she told him where she'd been staying? Had he brought her entirely new clothes?

"I guessed that you were staying at the Comfort Inn. It was near to the club you were in, and it was in your price range. It didn't take much to cross-check my assumption and send someone down there to collect your clothes and sign you out. After all, you did pay good money for it. I didn't think you wanted that good money going to waste."

He smiled at her, arms folded across his chest, and Chloe wondered why she even bothered to ask why or how when it came to him. Lex had a means of doing anything he wanted; she should have learned that by now.

"Thanks for informing me," she said snidely, slightly miffed that he was talking to her like a child, as well as the fact that he'd assumed she was going to stay here until it was time to go home. So she'd agreed to go to dinner with him, and she'd agreed to let him take her out tomorrow night, but that didn't mean she'd agreed to remain a permanent fixture in his apartment for her three-day stay. Not like she had a choice now. The hotel already thought she'd signed out, and there was no way she would be able to get another room, not on a weekend.

"I just did," was his smug reply. "Now are you going to go get showered and dressed, or am I going to be eating lunch alone?"

"Fine," she hissed, glaring at him angrily and rising gingerly from the table. She made her way slowly out of the kitchen, wishing she were able to make a more dramatic and effective exit. Unfortunately for her, her exit consisted of hobbling miserably across the expanse of the room, silently seething all the way.

---

"You know, I would have been happier with a pizza from Fabio's round the corner," Chloe confessed quietly, leaning in towards Lex so she wouldn't have to speak loudly in the quietness of the restaurant. "I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman."

There was that damn eyebrow again, arched in a mocking salute.

"I don't know whether to be flattered that you're comparing me to Richard Gere, or worried that I'm dining with a hooker," he jibed, gazing at her intently as she peered out from behind her menu. She didn't seem to have heard his remark; instead she was studying her surroundings with a mild look of panic gracing her face. She was attempting to hide behind the thick leather of her menu, but he found that it didn't prevent her from casting anxious stares around the room. She looked amusingly petrified.

"Chloe, relax," he said smoothly, "they're not going to bite you."

"I know that," she hissed, lowering her menu so she could scold him properly, "but they're looking at me like--like I don't belong here. Which, might I add, I don't."

"Don't be ridiculous," he replied, ignoring her pointed glare, "you have every right to be here."

She sighed, deciding to drop the subject, and studied her menu intently. At least she could understand the menu; she supposed that was a plus. It erased the problem of embarrassing herself when she tried to order something and couldn't pronounce it. It'd happened to her before, in the past when her father had taken her to a place like this when they used to live in Metropolis. It was probably the reason why she felt so nervous here, why she sat anxiously on the edge of her seat. It was damn right annoying; Chloe liked to be relaxed when she ate.

"Any idea what you want?" Lex inquired lightly, glancing over the top of his menu, noting how the young reporter was chewing intently on her lower lip.

"A successful career, a place to call my own, and a Doberman called Bert," she answered off-handedly, still studying her menu with a high degree of seriousness.

"Is that with or without fries?"

Finally, a smile, he thought, as she beamed at him from across the table. He'd been trying to lighten her up ever since they'd got here. She'd been anxious and edgy and in entirely the wrong mood to eat a dinner comfortably. If anything, he liked his companions to be at ease when they were with him, except when he was doing business, of course.

With a tiny sigh, Chloe folded her menu and lowered it. "I'll have the steak," she decided, tapping her fingers against the soft material and glancing at him, obviously waiting for him to decide what he wanted.

"I think I'll have the steak, too," he nodded at the waiter hovering in the far corner. "I haven't had it in a while."

The waiter approached the table and smiled at her. She offered him a nervous smile in return and proceeded to study her fingernails intently. This was too weird for Chloe, because Chloe didn't get anxious, and she most certainly didn't get nervous. Obviously she was still drunk from the night before. It was the only logical explanation for her behaviour.

She heard Lex informing the waiter of their orders, but she failed to listen, instead choosing to study her surroundings again. The restaurant he'd brought her to was probably one of the most classiest she'd ever been in. Decorated in simple golds and burgundys, the windows adorning long, silk curtains and the ceiling dominated by a large, crystal chandelier, it was a beautiful place to be. She guessed at night it would be even more romantic; the curtains would be closed, plunging the room into darkness. The candles placed in the centre of the tables would be lit, casting an ethereal glow around the room, and the light would dance across the surface of the large chandelier. Yes, she could see why Lex liked this place; he probably took all of his dates here. At night, anyway. Daytime was a whole different matter.

"Everything to your satisfaction, Miss Sullivan?" Lex inquired, a teasing smile curving his lips. She seemed slightly awestruck and he guessed she was trying her best not to gawk.

She nodded and rested her chin on her hand. This was better than any ordinary Saturday in Metropolis, which she probably would have spent at the museum. Chloe was secretly pleased that she'd bumped into Lex (she refused to acknowledge that Lex had in fact saved her from a sticky situation) because strangely enough, she found she enjoyed his company. Despite him being slightly condescending at times, she enjoyed their playful banter and appreciated the chance to escape the everyday woes of Smallville - more specifically, Clark and Lana. Not once since their run in last night had Lex mentioned the farmboy and his childhood obsession, and she was thankful of that in a way. She'd come here to forget all that, to rediscover the Chloe she used to be when she'd lived here. Although this discovery occurred two or three times a year, she never got bored of it, and although the change was never permanent, she welcomed it. In Metropolis, teenage problems like childhood crushes and unrequited love didn't exist. In Metropolis, Chloe wasn't the weepy best friend she'd come to dislike intensely during the past year. The blonde had always been the strong, resilient type, and lately that hadn't been the case. Now she was determined to get back on her feet, to forget Clark Kent and have a good time.

Which was exactly what she was doing.

"Can I ask you a personal question, Lex?" she asked suddenly, grasping her glass and taking a steady sip of water. She peered at him from over her water glass, gauging his reaction.

Lex stared at her intently.

"Off the record," she raised a hand, "I swear."

"Go ahead," he urged, taking a sip of his own drink.

She took a deep breath, leaning forward in her chair so she wouldn't have to raise her voice.

"Did you ever fall in love with someone you couldn't have?" she asked, her tone hushed. She gazed at him with questioning green eyes, lips parted slightly as she awaited his answer.

He hesitated slightly, wondering why she felt the need to ask such a question. He knew about her obvious infatuation with Clark, but he couldn't think why it had anything to do with him and his past love life.

"Yes," he finally admitted, "I have."

"And did you ever get over them?"

He glanced up at her with a steady gaze, finally realising the need for her questions. She wanted to know whether there'd ever come a time when she'd get over Clark.

"Yes," he said, "eventually. Time changed and so did I. Strangely, we grew closer, and I grew out of whatever infatuation I had with her. We're still good friends today."

Technically, that wasn't true. They had grown closer, but his infatuation had still remained intense as ever, until their three-month affair had ended and she'd returned to her husband. Luckily for him, they did in fact stay good friends. Luckily for him, he was no longer in love with her. It would have caused many a problem if he had been.

She fiddled with her cutlery absently, and offered him a bright, albeit shaky, smile. "Good. That's--that's good."

She still seemed uncertain, doubt lingering in her green orbs. He knew all too well how she felt. He'd been a teenager once, with the same worries and the same fears. He may not have been like any other ordinary seventeen-year-old, but he'd still felt the same things. He'd still known the taste of rejection, of how it felt to be crushed by someone who didn't even notice you half of the time. Oh yes, he knew.

"Give it time, Chloe. I know it's the biggest cliché in the book, but time really does make a difference. People change and so do feelings."

"I know," she replied softly, "but sometimes I just feel like I'm going to feel like this forever. And I hate it. I hate it because he's made me into this girl I never wanted to be. Do you know what I mean?"

"Strangely, yes," Lex confessed, smiling gently at her. He knew all too well, unfortunately. "The thing you have to remember is that you're your own person. You choose who you are, no one else. If you don't like the girl you've become, then don't be her anymore. Obviously it's not who you really are."

Chloe nodded, twirling the water glass between her fingers. "You're right."

He smirked. "Aren't I always?"

---

Dinner stretched ahead into the early afternoon, where they lingered over their coffee, indulged in light-hearted banter and participated in the occasional debate, including which Shakespearian production was the best, why Anne Rice was the master of modern novels to date, and who from Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, was the best slayer (Lex agreed that Faith was by far the most realistic).

Their supposed "bite to eat" dragged pleasantly on, past an hour, and then two, and as the third approached, the duo reluctantly rose from their table and headed out into the streets of Metropolis. Lex had a brief business meeting at four, which he claimed would take no longer than an hour. He had, after all, come here to relax for the weekend, and even now he wasn't happy about the short interruption in his vacation.

Chloe didn't have the courage to ask if he was unhappy about her interruption.

After they returned to the apartment, Lex assured her yet again that he'd be no later than five o'clock, and that she should get everything ready for the upcoming evening of movies, movies and more movies.

The young reporter scowled when the playboy instructed that she inform his driver of everything she needed and he'd make sure that everything was taken care of.

"I'm not an invalid, Lex," she huffed, limping over to the couch and settling herself down, "and I'm quite capable of renting my own movies and buying my own snacks, okay?"

According to Lex, it wasn't okay.

"Chloe, you need to take the weight off your foot--"

"--but my foot is fine! It's--"

"--ah, so the whole limping to the couch escapade was just my imagination then?" he interrupted. When her scowl grew, he moved towards the couch and stood opposite her, hands buried deep into his pockets. "Look Chloe, I know you're unhappy about not being able to do everything you wanted to do this weekend, but unless you want to spend another day cooped up in this apartment, I strongly suggest you let my driver sort things out for you. Why don't you just relax? You can do all your running about tomorrow, and then I'll take you out. Is that a deal?"

She peered up at him, hands folded over her chest in an obvious display of dissatisfaction. With a disgruntled sigh she relented, and offered him a resigned "fine" in response.

"Good," he nodded, "just let him know which movies you'd like and what snacks you want and he'll get them for you. I should be back by five."

He strode over to the chair by the bed and picked up his jacket, sliding it on as he headed for the door. Before he left, he heard her voice floating out behind him, as sharp and defiant as its owner.

"I'm paying!"

---

When Lex Luthor returned an hour later, he entered his bedroom to find a chilled-out Chloe slumped out on his couch, buried beneath the quilt he'd had stored in his cupboard for the upcoming winter months. Deeply engrossed in a programme on the television, the young reporter was oblivious to his return as she sat transfixed, occasionally shovelling a spoonful of Ben and Jerry's into her mouth.

He cleared his throat.

Chloe swivelled her head sharply to find Lex stood near the bed, an amused smiling tilting his lips. Her spoon of ice-cream hovered mere millimetres from her lips, and after her initial shock, she rotated the spoon around her tongue and averted her eyes back to the screen. "You said you'd be back by five," she said blankly, "it's ten past."

Lex shook his head, slipping out of his jacket and laying it on the bed. He strode over to the couch and peered down at the oblivious blonde.

Nothing. She remained where she was, legs sprawled out, preventing him from sitting down. She hadn't even noticed he'd moved, instead watching the television like something bad would happen if she tore her eyes away.

Finally, she looked his way, then drew her eyes back to the television. She did a double-take, then foolishly realised that Lex was waiting for her to move her legs so he could sit down. "Oh," she blinked, swinging her feet around and grimacing when her ankle throbbed in protest, "sorry."

Lex smiled and sat down. "What're you watching?"

"No idea," she answered nonchalantly, swinging her legs and resting them in his lap. "Some programme about forensics."

He didn't hear her; instead he was studying the quilt-clad legs that were currently occupying his lap. He smiled wryly and shook his head at the bizarreness of the situation. She'd only be here less than a day and already she was making herself comfortable. Strangely, he found that he didn't mind.

"This is okay, right?" he heard her ask and turned to see her pointing her spoon at her legs. "I mean, if it bothers you I--"

"--Chloe, I'm rich, " he interrupted, "not off-limits."

She offered him a smile and dug her spoon into the depths of the Ben and Jerry's tub. "S'good, just makin' sure," she said, and licked at the ice-cream contently.

"So what movies did you decide on?" he questioned, changing the subject. He watched as her face lit up and she delved behind the arm of the couch, launching a plastic bag full of videos up onto her lap.

"I had no idea what sort of movies you liked, so I got a bit of everything... " She rummaged through the bag, occasionally pulling out packets of candy and bags of different flavoured popcorn. Finally, she pulled out the collection of videos. "We have James Bond. One classic," she lifted a video up, "and a recent one," she held up another. "I didn't know if you liked Bond or not, but then I realised that everyone likes Bond. It's a crime otherwise."

Lex laughed at that, and watched as she dug more videos out of the bag.

"We have The Matrix: Reloaded, because I've been ordered to watch this by he who shall remain nameless. And we have another classic." She grasped the last video between two hands and wiggled about on the couch excitedly. "Cruel Intentions. You can't beat Ryan Phillippe. What. a. God."

"Women and movie stars. I don't understand it," Lex mused, shaking his head at her antics.

"What do you mean?" she questioned, mock confusion written all over her face. "It's Ryan Phillippe. It's a well-known fact that he's the star of all stars. Orlando Bloom runs a close second of course, but that's a whole different matter." She shrugged, and looked at him intently. "So, we have action, adventure, romance, and good ol' British humor. I don't think that's a bad mix if I do say so myself."

She nodded happily to herself, earning her a grin from the otherwise silent Luthor.

"So, which one shall we watch first?" she asked him, shuffling the videos into a tidy pile in her lap.

"Well," he started, "let's leave the tragic romance to the end of the evening."

She peered down at the pile, picked out Cruel Intentions and placed it back in the bag. "You only said that because you don't want drool all over your best couch," she jibed, a mocking frown marring her features.

"I didn't want drool all over my best feather pillows either, but I didn't get a choice in that."

"Hey!" she exclaimed, smacking him lightly on the arm. She laughed softly. "Okay, I think we should leave the mind-boggling flick to later. I'm up for some mindless entertainment." She slipped The Matrix: Reloaded back into the bag.

"So that leaves us with James Bond," Lex observed, taking the pre-offered video from her hand. He rose from the couch and slid it into the video recorder, settling back just as quickly and allowing Chloe's feet to rest back into his lap.

As the movie played - it was an old classic, he noticed - Lex couldn't help but be struck by the sheer oddity of the situation. Back in Smallville, he and Chloe had never really been close friends, more like mutual acquaintances thanks to his bizarre friendship with Clark Kent. He was well aware that the blondes tolerance of him was low because of his namesake, and it wasn't until he'd arrived in Smallville that he'd truly realised the meaning of the phrase, guilty by association. At times he thought it didn't bother him, until his decision to start integrating himself into the everyday society of the small town. It was then that he found it harder to socialise, peoples obvious dislike of him due to his father an unwelcoming obstacle. After a while, it had started bothering him. When a friendship had sparked between he and Clark, he hadn't expected to have been dragged into the young teens small social circle - a circle which seemed to have an obvious dislike of him. Now here he was, sharing his weekend (Lex had never been one to enjoy sharing the only time he had to himself with others) with a member of said social circle, and he was finding it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. In fact, it was turning out to be one of the best weekends he'd had in a long time.

Peering over at the blonde, obliviously fixated on the movie, he realised that he enjoyed her company more than he cared to admit. She was more intelligent than she let on, her knowledge far exceeding that of any normal teenager. At dinner she'd willingly participated in his debates, even bringing up some of her own. When they bantered, she matched him jibe for jibe, insult for insult, her dry humor and sharp wit a welcoming change in his usually tedious day. Not only that, but her youthful exuberance was refreshing; a gentle reminder that he was still young himself and was entitled to indulge in mindless, playful activities, like watching movies and pigging out on Ben and Jerry's ice-cream. Despite her maturity, Chloe knew how to have fun, and Lex admired the blonde for it. He'd clearly been mistaken when he'd pinned the girl for a lovesick cynic intent on hating the world and everyone in it. The boy-billionaire could safely say that his opinion of the young reporter had definitely shot up a few notches during the last twenty-four hours.

His train of thought was abruptly cut short when he felt Chloe's small elbow prodding him. He turned to see her offering her tub of ice-cream towards him, and after a brief hesitation, accepted the tub and delved in to the sickly chocolate dessert. He heard her laugh gently at his apparent eagerness, and turned back to the on-going movie.

Yes, this was definitely a bizarre situation. Never in his life would he have thought he'd be spending a weekend - nevermind an evening - with an injured blonde (of which he hadn't even slept with), cradling her bruised ankle in his lap and indulging in Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream while watching old James Bond movies.

Life certainly did have its twists.

---

Due to the fact that Chloe Sullivan had not dragged her sorry carcass out of bed before eleven o'clock, she was nowhere near tired when the television informed them that The Matrix: Reloaded was "to be continued". The credits rolled by, and Chloe rolled uncomfortably about on Lex's sorry-excuse-for-a-couch, wincing everytime the damn arm poked her in the back. With a huff she rose from the couch, limped the short distance to the television and replaced the futuristic adventure film with the tragic romance they'd saved for last.

"You need a bigger, better couch, Lex," she informed him, settling herself back down and scowling because she hadn't been able to find a comfortable position throughout the last three movies.

He turned his head to look at her. "Why? What's wrong with this one?"

"Well for one," Chloe started, "it's too small. And two, there's absolutely no space to get comfy without killing yourself. I highly doubt your guests appreciate having the couch arm ramming into their back, while you're ram--"

"--okay! I get it - new couch," he interrupted, smirking at her cheeky grin.

She turned back to the movie, shovelling butter popcorn into her mouth and he watched, half amused, as she mouthed the words to the song that was belting out; a Placebo classic, if his memory served him correctly.

"I have an idea," he declared suddenly, pushing himself up from the couch and turning towards the blonde, who was staring up at him intently, a handful of popcorn posed near her mouth.

"You do?" she replied blankly, and finally chomped down on the buttery snack.

"I do." He moved over towards and pulled her up from the couch. "Now, how about you go to the kitchen and make us both a drink. Hot chocolate will do me fine."

Chloe didn't move. "And what will you do?"

"I," he said, "am going to solve our problem. You wait in the kitchen for me, I won't be a minute."

She stared at him intently, forehead creased in bewilderment; then she huffed loudly and left the room. She wasn't about to argue, because there was no arguing with Lex. Strangely enough, his stubborn streak far exceeded her own.

---

Fifteen minutes later, Chloe Sullivan was a very happy bunny indeed.

She was snuggled up in silk sheets and a feather quilt, a mass of pillows stuffed behind her back, propelling her forward into a comfortable and ideal position. In front of her was Lex's widescreen television, perched happily atop what looked like a wooden cabinet. Chloe didn't care what it was; all she knew was that she was comfortable and she could see the television perfectly. So could Lex.

"This is perfect," she sighed happily, sucking lightly on a sweet, strawberry lace. "I could stay here forever."

"That's not what you were saying last night," he teased. "In fact, if I remember rightly, you were pretty pissed off about your weekend going to waste."

Chloe chuckled. "What can I say? You've grown on me."

Lex tilted his head to look at her and laughed softly when she smiled impishly at him.

A comfortable silence fell upon them both again as the film rolled on. It was at that moment that pure bizarreness of the situation hit Chloe, as it had Lex earlier. Not even a week ago she disliked the guy intensely, although she had to admit it was mostly because of his relation to Lionel Luthor. Now though, she found she could easily look past his condescending attitude and his slight superiority complex. She'd realised today that it was never intentional, merely a result of growing up too fast in the care of a man who truly believed he was God himself. But Chloe had also realised that beneath it all, Lex was a loyal friend whom she had no doubt she could trust. He could also be quite humorous when he let his guide down, which the young reporter guessed wasn't too often. She found that she liked that side of him; the side that was constantly reminding her that Lex wasn't as old as he acted, and that he himself suffered the same problems, had the same worries and made the same mistakes. Like he had said earlier, even though he was rich, he wasn't off-limits. She'd known that many people would have treated him that way - either too good to be approached or only good enough because of his wealth. Strangely enough, she'd come to learn that money couldn't buy you everything, least of all friends. And it seemed right now that friends was exactly what Lex Luthor needed.

---

Chloe sighed. "I wonder," she rolled over onto her back and popped a chocolate-covered raisin into her mouth, "if I would score myself my very own Sebastian if I hold out on the whole virginity thing." She playfully contemplated this, staring up at the ceiling as Lex turned the television off.

"Something tells me you're holding out for all the wrong reasons," Lex replied wryly, making himself comfortable against the mound of pillows.

"Oh please," Chloe rolled her eyes, "you're not going to give me the speech about how my virginity is a precious gift and I should hold onto it for as long as possible, are you?"

"No," he said.

"Because I'll tell you somethin'," she continued, propelling herself forward from her horizontal position so she could talk to him directly. "I'm not holding out because I believe in all that 'save it for love' crap. It just doesn't work that way."

"It doesn't?"

She shook her head.

He watched her intently and sensed a somewhat passionate speech from Chloe heading his way. Not that he minded. He enjoyed seeing the blondes face light up everytime she had something important to say. And he knew, from experience, that whatever Chloe had to say was worth hearing.

"How does it work?" he inquired.

"That's just it," she said softly, "I don't know how it works. I just know that it... happens. I mean, I'm not exactly in a position to talk... " She shrugged and chewed absently on a chocolate raisin.

"I think you maybe right," he agreed, turning his head to look at her as she settled down beside him. "Love doesn't equal great sex, and vice versa. And if you're happy in the decision that you don't have to be in love to indulge in sex, then I don't see where the problem is. Of course, others would disagree... "

Chloe nodded and turned on her side, propping herself up on her elbow. "It kind of threw me, the first time I came to Smallville," she confessed.

Lex blinked at her sudden change in subject. "Oh?"

"Yeah. I mean... here I was, this big city girl whose seen pretty much everything. When you live in Metropolis, no one gives a damn about the drugs and the crime and the casual sex. It's just a part of the city, you know? But when I came to Smallville I couldn't believe how innocent it was. It knocked me for six."

Lex smiled at her and she grinned, shaking her head.

"Sorry, I'm rambling... "

"No, you're not," he said. "You've made a good point, and I agree with you. There was a time not long ago that I was a part of that scene, and then I came to Smallville and it changed. I guess you could say that Smallville is a little more... ah, naive than the city. It's easier to set moral boundaries in such a small community. Not that it's a bad thing, but--"

"--it's restricting."

"Right."

Chloe sighed and flopped onto her back, burying herself beneath the covers. She heard Lex flick the light switch off beside her, settling back down into the comfortable warmth of the bed. "I wish I was still a city girl," she whispered into the darkness. "I lived more when I was."

She felt Lex shift beside her.

"You don't have to be a city girl to live, Chloe."

That simple answer stayed with her, even as the darkness claimed what little energy she had left.

---

Chloe Sullivan was not much of a dreamer, but when she did dream, it was usually nightmares that interrupted her sleep. Always intense, always vivid; more often than not they left her with a scream trapped in her throat or tears burning her eyes. She never knew why, it was just the way things had always been.

Since she was a little girl she'd always woken up with what she'd called the "after feeling". Be it a good dream (which were rare) or a cruel nightmare, the blonde would rise still feeling the same as she had in her dream - scared, angry, in love... - and she never managed to shake the feeling until she was very much alive and kicking.

The dream that broke through Chloe's sleep tonight was a black and white horror that caused whimpers to swell up in her throat, unheard by the young blonde. In fact, Chloe was so far gone that she didn't think twice about the strong arm that suddenly wrapped itself around her waist and pulled her towards a hard chest. She was buried in a cocoon of warmth, her head resting just below his chin, her small hands placed atop his own. Subconsciously - without thought - she settled herself into his embrace.