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Dirty Little Secret	By : miladyriz Category: Smallville > General Views: 11060 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Title: Dirty Secret

Author: Verity

Email: AnimeTenshiChaos@aol.com

Pairing: Chloe/Lex

Summary: Who knew Chloe had such a dirty mind?

Spoilers: None specific.

Disclaimers: Smallville does not belong to me and neither does Chloe or Lex, though if that sexy man belonged to me, I wouldn�t mind

Feedback: C�mon, bring it. Rant, rave, bitch, whatever.

Chloe dropped the cigarette to the ground, basking in the dim light behind the Talon, crushing the embers beneath her boot. Clark would show up any minute, and if he knew about her newly acquired habit, she knew his eyes would go all soft in sadness and he would demand for her to stop and she didn�t want to argue. Not now. She was tired of the yelling, tired of explaining it all to him, tired of his eyes always searching beyond her, looking for something. And she was so goddamn tired of it never being her he looked for.
It would have been better if she could hate Lana. But the girl was too damn nice and sweet and innocent and too fucking perfect. That girl shone like a diamond, sparkling and sweet and pure. Chloe felt like nothing standing next to Lana Lang, a mere mortal outshone in the glow of a goddess. Clark�s eyes had always been drawn to Lana�s radiance, and nothing Chloe did could drag his gaze away. Lana was gentle and charming, always trying to help out others and getting into trouble while her hair managed to stay perfect. Chloe knew she was bluntly honest, stubborn, volatile, sarcastic, violently passionate about her work, and didn�t give a damn about what others thought. But no one could ever think that Lana was less than perfect. Lana was probably the only girl she could call a friend, and that was saying a lot. Usually, Chloe kept her jealousy under control, but alone in that shadowed alley, her emotions raged inside her, dark and burning.
Chloe sucked the night air in, filling her lungs with the damp coolness, wishing it were the sweet poison smoke she pretended not to crave. Where the hell is he? She wondered, biting her nails in effort not to grab another cigarette. She glanced at her watch. 10:30. The Talon had closed thirty minutes ago. Clark had said he would pick her up after closing for some sneaking around. She needed help with research about her latest scoop, and of course, Clark couldn�t resist but offer to help the damsel in distress. Chloe hated being called a �damsel,� and wasn�t exactly in distress, but hey, it was a dirty job and somebody had to do it. For once it wouldn�t be Lana playing the part, like it usually was. Though, Chloe thought bitterly, Clark tends to forget my distress signal to go to rescue of his ladylove. But Lana was fine, out of danger for once, closing up the coffee shop, and there was no reason to be so late. So why wasn�t he here? Something was keeping him.
The door flew open behind her, smacking her in between the shoulder blades with a thud. She whirled around, teeth clenched in anger, when she saw Clark stumble out in front of her. His face was flushed, eyes misted over with a nameless emotion, hair mussed. He straightened his T-shirt, nervously.
�Hey, Chlo�,� he said sheepishly, �Sorry I�m late.�
Her heart fluttered at his sweetness, a smile lighting her face. She was about to say it was okay when she noticed something. Her sharp eyes narrowed, her reporter mind going to work. At the corner of his mouth was a barely noticeable touch of shimmer, mauve and glossy. Lana�s lip-gloss. Chloe finally saw the slightly swollen lips, heard the whisper of short breaths, recognized the look of lust in his eyes. Her smile died, withering inside her soul, ice racing through her veins as she realized where he had been the past thirty minutes. Right behind her, behind the door, with her.
Coolness flowed over her skin, coating her, protecting her. �It�s fine, Clark,� she said, her voice sharp with frost. Clark caught the tone in her voice, confusion swirling in his eyes.
�But, Chloe-�
�Clark,� She snapped, bristling with impatience, �Don�t worry about it. I�ll go do this on my own.� She turned around, holding her head high, her pride not allowing her to concede defeat. But a wicked thought slithered into her mind, and she whipped her head around for one last bite.
�Oh, and Clark?� He looked at her, so innocent, so sweet, so unaware. So ignorant. �Why don�t you go back inside now? I�m sure Lana misses you already.�
�Chloe, wait! I�m sorry!� His cries echoed into the darkness, but Chloe pretended not to hear. She walked off, back straight, tears chewed and swallowed inside of her. In her effort to keep her eyes forward, glaring, she didn�t see the pothole just in front of her until she had already stumbled, her purse�s contents scattering everywhere. She cursed, shoving pens, loose change, tampons, and other various things back inside her purse. Her hand blindly reached out for whatever was left on the rough pavement, when her fingers brushed against soft leather. Her frantic motions stilled, as she slowly picked up the leather-bound notebook, clutching it to her. Suddenly desperate, she flung it open and began reading, drowning in the words.
This was her freedom, where she could dispel the darkness inside of her by baring it on the white paper. It was her dirty little secret, her inner thoughts finally exposed. When she had first begun her journal, she was twelve, still stung over losing Metropolis, and had fallen madly in love with a shy farm boy named Clark Kent. The first entries were written in girly cursive, little notes about how cute that boy was with his awkward smile and trying out her signature as Mrs. Chloe Kent. As the years past, the gentle arches and curves turned into a rougher, edgier scrawl. Poetry and curses were scribbled on the ivory pages; her thoughts swirling darker and darker as the realization had slowly come over her that Clark would never notice her, waiting for him. Anger and sorrow and bitterness bled from those pages, screaming in dull graphite. But, about three years ago, her entries had transformed suddenly, the dark rage splintering in her words smoothing into liquid midnight fury. Instead of mere pain and anger in jagged streaks, her writing had become sensual, luscious. Dirty. Sinful images flowed across the pages, moonlight across ivory skin, hiding in the shadows, chains, biting, blood, silk, screams. Her lips parted slightly, a pink flush warming her cheeks as she read her words as she had done so many times.
They were her fantasies that she never would speak, the dreams she pretended not to dream. She tossed and turned at night, clenching her hands so they wouldn�t wander, biting her tongue so she wouldn�t moan. This delicious ache would burn inside her, and nothing she did could quench it. Not even thoughts of the innocent Clark Kent could calm the flames slowly consuming her. But, these secret little thoughts flickered in her soul, hidden by denial, ignored but not forgotten. She adored this ache, these dark thoughts that would surely damn her soul. They blazed through her veins, barely constrained by skin, delivering her up so high that vertigo was bliss. But these thoughts, as glorious as they were, could never be spoken aloud, never become more than a wisp of thought.
If anyone ever knew that I� think about him, Chloe mused darkly, I probably would be stoned out of town!
She closed the small notebook, and tucked inside her bad, shaking her blond chunks of hair in order to fling the thoughts from her mind. She had to focus, there was sneaking to do, weird things to see. Chloe stood up, adjusting her tight red leather pants, a new acquirement from Metropolis, and walked away with feigned purpose. But in her heart, fluttering wildly, she knew nothing would be accomplished tonight. Her mind was scattered everywhere but where it ought to be, her thoughts dipping into the midnight velvet corners of her soul. She stopped suddenly, staring at the silver asphalt; eyes clenched shut as she tried to regain her reporter demeanor.
It didn�t work.
�Damn, damn, damn!� Chloe muttered, the heel of her boot crunching into the ground. She was frustrated with herself, that her focus was completely obliterated, frustrated with Clark, that he had stood her up for a make out session with Miss Perfect, and most of all, just plain frustrated. Her nerves were sparking with electricity, muscles tense, breaths hard and fast. Her body ached painfully, thrumming with dark fire that licked across her skin and flowed through her blood. She was burning slowly from the inside out. And it was damn annoying that there was nothing to ease it.
�Do you usually stand in the middle of an alley this late at night?� Chloe, startled at the sudden voice and trying to ignore the burst of aching pleasure within her skin, spun around, eyes wide with shock. There in all his violet, violent glory, was Lex Luther. The devil himself.
Oh my God, I�m done for.
~ Interlude ~

�Or maybe it�s a recently acquired habit?� Lex�s words flowed into the night air like blood wine, thick and sweetly intoxicating. He chuckled inwardly at the shocked blush that swept along her cheeks, so adorable, so innocent. His eyes darted when her teeth caught her bottom lip nervously, and wicked thoughts exploded in his mind. He had been watching her from the shadows, imprinting each moment into memory. He saw her when Clark had slammed the door into her petite frame, making him snarl at the thought of purple bruises marring her slender back. He saw her when she had stormed away, liquid gold anger flashing in her eyes. And he saw her stumble, saw her clasp a small leather bound book with awe, saw her devour the words written there as her eyes swirled with dark delight. He took a step forward, trying to see if she would run away. But Chloe had regained herself, and stood her ground in all her golden splendor.
�What do you want, Luther?� She demanded, her hand on one hip, jutted out. She stood there, completely fearless, eyes burning sapphire, blonde mane swept about her face. She would not be dominated. She wouldn�t let him.
God, she was magnificent. So proud and strong and passionate, like a fierce lioness ready for battle. But Chloe, with her eyes of clear, crystal blue, round and innocent with soot darkened eyelashes, a sweet red virgin mouth, creamy sun-kissed skin, and a soft, luscious body that begged to be claimed, was such a study of contradictions that Lex found his thoughts straying to her more and more often. She had challenged him in more ways possible, thrown herself into more than enough trouble, managed to escape unscathed, and remained ready and willing to clash with him at a moment�s notice. Her clever, sharp mind was always analyzing, never did she stop thinking, and those devilish little thoughts of hers always landed the blonde troublemaker into disaster. And Clark always arrived just in time to save her.
Lex growled at that, so soft and menacing that Chloe couldn�t hear him. Clark, the innocent farm boy with a heart of gold. Sometimes, Lex was almost jealous. Clark was always kind, compassionate, so eager to please everyone. He was courageous and innocent, a strange mixture, and managed to save those around him, including Lex himself. It would be very easy for a girl to fall in love with such a perfect boy. And Chloe had. Chloe had never been able to hide her love for the boy from Lex, and she knew it. Lex had tried not to interfere, but every time Clark�s eyes found Lana Lang, ignoring the golden blaze in front him whose eyes went violet with sadness, Lex found it harder to hold his sharp tongue.
What a fucking idiot! He cursed in his mind, Chasing after Miss Lang, who could do no wrong, when he could have this glorious creature, who could do such delicious wrong and never be afraid.
He stopped his thoughts immediately from where he knew they would go. He shouldn�t be thinking such things about a seventeen-year-old virgin who was madly in love with the perfect Clark Kent. Such innocence should never be his.
~ End Interlude ~
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Dirty Little Secret