Don't be a dick, be a dude. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sabinetzin) wrote2006-03-21 02:46 am
sabinetzin) wrote2006-03-21 02:46 am
Porn you can let your grandmother read.
Title: K'ex, Chapter 1 (Worksafe version)
Summary: What if Clark and Lionel hadn't regained their old bodies?
Fandom: Smallville
Word Count: 861
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, retroactive dubcon?, abduction.
Pairing: Lionel/Chloe, one-sided Clark/Chloe
A/N: See notes on the other post.
It was late, but Chloe didn’t feel like going home. The next day’s Torch had already been put to bed, so she worked on dull, useful tasks- sorting the pictures from the last swim meet, sweeping out the darkroom, painting flames in nail polish on the side of the filing cabinet.
“Nice paint job, Miss Sullivan.”
Chloe nearly leapt out of her skin. Clark was standing right behind her, a little too close for comfort.
“Jesus, Clark!” she breathed. “When did you get here? How did you get in?”
“Back door was unlocked,” Lionel lied. “Janitor must have left it open.”
“If you’re here to play more mind games, I don’t have time for it,” she said, giving him her best look of steely resolve.
“I came by to apologize,” he told her, taking a deep breath and willing himself to sound young and honest. “My previous behavior was cruel, and entirely uncalled for. I have no idea what came over me.”
“That was an unusually thorough apology,” Chloe replied stiffly, slightly taken aback, “not that it wasn’t completely warranted.”
Lionel was very close to her now, close enough to touch her; but this time, she wasn’t backing away from him. “I just needed you to know,” he told her, “I meant everything I said.”
He watched the same battle play out in her eyes that he had seen before: anger, longing, hope, and the promise of regret. She was struggling to refuse him, but Lionel wasn’t about to let her win.
“Is this another game, Clark? ‘Cause I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but it isn’t normal.”
Lionel ran a finger up her neck, lifting her lips to meet his. “No games, Miss Sullivan. Just me.”
“Alright then, Mister Kent,” she responded, half-mockingly.
Now, what was Sullivan’s first name? It started with a C, not terribly common; he’d been calling her “Miss Sullivan” for so long that he’d forgotten it.
“Chloe,” Lionel breathed, trying not to laugh and hoping it wasn’t Clara or something. Before she could respond, he leaned forward and captured her lips in a harsh kiss.
---
Chloe shrugged her shirt back on, not looking at Clark. Contrary to her nature, she was starting to think that some things were better left uninvestigated, at least for the time being. From somewhere in her purse, her phone began ringing. Straightening her skirt, she answered.
“Hello?”
“Chloe? Thank God,” Martha gasped on the other end of the line. “I’ve been trying to reach you for ages.”
“Sorry Mrs. Kent,” she said sheepishly. “I’ve been busy at the Torch. But you’ve got me now. What is it?”
“Have you seen Clark lately?” Chloe looked to Clark, who’d been listening in over her shoulder while buttoning his shirt. He shook his head.
“No, I haven’t. Why, is it important?”
Martha took a deep breath. “Clark isn’t himself right now.”
She stood up, waving Clark away. “How do you mean?”
Martha’s words flowed out in one continuous stream of babble. “I can’t believe I’m actually serious about the words I’m saying, and it’s definitely one for that wall of yours, but Clark traded bodies with-”
There was a sickening crunch as Lionel crushed the phone into dust.
Chloe stared at him with a look of utter confusion. “What did- why did you- how did you?”
And then, suddenly, all the pieces snapped into place- Clark’s visit to the prison, his sudden, strange behavior, the odd way he kept addressing her- and a horrible wave of clarity broke over Chloe. “Lionel,” she stammered.
“You’re a very clever girl, Miss Sullivan,” Lionel told her, smirking. Chloe held her stomach, looking as though she couldn’t decide whether to run or wretch. She chose the former, but before she could get to the door, Lionel was there, barring her way.
“It seems that our friend Clark had some untapped potential that he didn’t want anyone knowing about,” he explained, casually leaning on the door frame. “Strength, speed- oh, and this.” Chloe watched in horror as, somehow, Lionel made a stack of files on the desk next to her ignite. Smiling, Lionel reached over and beat the fire out with his bare hands.
Chloe swallowed hard in a dry throat. “Clark?” she asked, not trusting her voice.
“I’m dreadfully sorry, but I’ve had to dispose of him, along with my old body,” Lionel said lightly. “If it’s any consolation, it really was self-defense.”
Lionel caught her as her knees gave.
“Don’t worry, Miss Sullivan,” he whispered into her ear. “I’ve got plans for this body that Mr. Kent never dreamed of. There might just be a place in them for you, if you play your cards right. Wouldn’t that be the story of a lifetime? Hell, you can have the whole Planet, for all I care.” Chloe stared resolutely away from him, tears streaming down her face.
“But now, a change of scenery,” he announced grandly to the empty room, tossing Chloe over his shoulder roughly. “Where does the man who can go anywhere faster than a speeding bullet go?” Lionel considered this for a moment. “For starters, Metropolis is so nice this time of year.”
Summary: What if Clark and Lionel hadn't regained their old bodies?
Fandom: Smallville
Word Count: 861
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, retroactive dubcon?, abduction.
Pairing: Lionel/Chloe, one-sided Clark/Chloe
A/N: See notes on the other post.
It was late, but Chloe didn’t feel like going home. The next day’s Torch had already been put to bed, so she worked on dull, useful tasks- sorting the pictures from the last swim meet, sweeping out the darkroom, painting flames in nail polish on the side of the filing cabinet.
“Nice paint job, Miss Sullivan.”
Chloe nearly leapt out of her skin. Clark was standing right behind her, a little too close for comfort.
“Jesus, Clark!” she breathed. “When did you get here? How did you get in?”
“Back door was unlocked,” Lionel lied. “Janitor must have left it open.”
“If you’re here to play more mind games, I don’t have time for it,” she said, giving him her best look of steely resolve.
“I came by to apologize,” he told her, taking a deep breath and willing himself to sound young and honest. “My previous behavior was cruel, and entirely uncalled for. I have no idea what came over me.”
“That was an unusually thorough apology,” Chloe replied stiffly, slightly taken aback, “not that it wasn’t completely warranted.”
Lionel was very close to her now, close enough to touch her; but this time, she wasn’t backing away from him. “I just needed you to know,” he told her, “I meant everything I said.”
He watched the same battle play out in her eyes that he had seen before: anger, longing, hope, and the promise of regret. She was struggling to refuse him, but Lionel wasn’t about to let her win.
“Is this another game, Clark? ‘Cause I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but it isn’t normal.”
Lionel ran a finger up her neck, lifting her lips to meet his. “No games, Miss Sullivan. Just me.”
“Alright then, Mister Kent,” she responded, half-mockingly.
Now, what was Sullivan’s first name? It started with a C, not terribly common; he’d been calling her “Miss Sullivan” for so long that he’d forgotten it.
“Chloe,” Lionel breathed, trying not to laugh and hoping it wasn’t Clara or something. Before she could respond, he leaned forward and captured her lips in a harsh kiss.
---
Chloe shrugged her shirt back on, not looking at Clark. Contrary to her nature, she was starting to think that some things were better left uninvestigated, at least for the time being. From somewhere in her purse, her phone began ringing. Straightening her skirt, she answered.
“Hello?”
“Chloe? Thank God,” Martha gasped on the other end of the line. “I’ve been trying to reach you for ages.”
“Sorry Mrs. Kent,” she said sheepishly. “I’ve been busy at the Torch. But you’ve got me now. What is it?”
“Have you seen Clark lately?” Chloe looked to Clark, who’d been listening in over her shoulder while buttoning his shirt. He shook his head.
“No, I haven’t. Why, is it important?”
Martha took a deep breath. “Clark isn’t himself right now.”
She stood up, waving Clark away. “How do you mean?”
Martha’s words flowed out in one continuous stream of babble. “I can’t believe I’m actually serious about the words I’m saying, and it’s definitely one for that wall of yours, but Clark traded bodies with-”
There was a sickening crunch as Lionel crushed the phone into dust.
Chloe stared at him with a look of utter confusion. “What did- why did you- how did you?”
And then, suddenly, all the pieces snapped into place- Clark’s visit to the prison, his sudden, strange behavior, the odd way he kept addressing her- and a horrible wave of clarity broke over Chloe. “Lionel,” she stammered.
“You’re a very clever girl, Miss Sullivan,” Lionel told her, smirking. Chloe held her stomach, looking as though she couldn’t decide whether to run or wretch. She chose the former, but before she could get to the door, Lionel was there, barring her way.
“It seems that our friend Clark had some untapped potential that he didn’t want anyone knowing about,” he explained, casually leaning on the door frame. “Strength, speed- oh, and this.” Chloe watched in horror as, somehow, Lionel made a stack of files on the desk next to her ignite. Smiling, Lionel reached over and beat the fire out with his bare hands.
Chloe swallowed hard in a dry throat. “Clark?” she asked, not trusting her voice.
“I’m dreadfully sorry, but I’ve had to dispose of him, along with my old body,” Lionel said lightly. “If it’s any consolation, it really was self-defense.”
Lionel caught her as her knees gave.
“Don’t worry, Miss Sullivan,” he whispered into her ear. “I’ve got plans for this body that Mr. Kent never dreamed of. There might just be a place in them for you, if you play your cards right. Wouldn’t that be the story of a lifetime? Hell, you can have the whole Planet, for all I care.” Chloe stared resolutely away from him, tears streaming down her face.
“But now, a change of scenery,” he announced grandly to the empty room, tossing Chloe over his shoulder roughly. “Where does the man who can go anywhere faster than a speeding bullet go?” Lionel considered this for a moment. “For starters, Metropolis is so nice this time of year.”