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bantha_fodderThe Way of All Dragons (the hungriest friends remix) by Pen
Smallville, Chloe and Lex, G.
A remix of Tris' really great looooootherville drabble, for PXMIX. How handy that I couldn't bring myself to cull this icon!
***
It's 18:51, and outside the window the streetlights flicker, and her shitty coffee is cold. She watches the layout as it slowly forms, counts her bylines and knows she has to move. Her rolodex is annoyingly empty, but she knows a guy who knows a girl who knows someone else: she always does.
She picks up her phone and dials; holds her breath.
**
She walks to the LexCorp Tower; it's only a two mile walk, and this way she can stop for a coffee. She wraps her purple scarf around her neck, wishes fervently for the beanie to make a fashion comeback.
She wanders on through to the campaign office, rubs her ears to get the feeling back. As she pushes through the glass doors, she looks around; takes in the artwork and the photos and the busiest campaign room she's ever seen.
Lex stares at her, sits there in the open amongst the peasants, and she grins. "Hi," she says after a moment, pushes her hair behind her still-numb ear. "Um, I made the appointment with your campaign manager. I thought —"
"You could avoid me?"
She shrugs, like maybe he should go to hell for suggesting her motivations include cowardice. "You'd be too busy?" she replies, which is close enough. She fiddles with her scarf, looks up and meets his eyes.
"I always have time for you, Chloe. You should know that." He rises, his arm outstretched, and when he kisses her cheek his breath is warm against her skin, smells like coffee, and she hopes he has a fresh pot brewing somewhere close.
She nods, and he turns; leads the way through the bullpen to his office. "Are you serious?" she asks. "You have two private offices in the one building?"
"Chloe," he says, and the tone of his voice is almost disappointment. "I can't risk the hired help getting into my stuff."
He closes the door.
**
Later, she shuffles in her chair, closes her notebook. "I can't thank you enough for taking the time," she says, though she still wonders what happened to the campaign manager.
He rests his hand on hers, curls his fingers into her palm. "You don't have to," he says. "You get your name in big type and maybe a nicer cube. I get publicity from a great writer without an axe to grind. It's an exchange. Business as it should be."
Ah, she thinks, and she knows, but she's not that girl anymore. She looks at her watch, decides it's lunchtime. "I've got another interview downtown." She stands, throws everything in her bag, like maybe she's a busy woman with deadlines to meet. Well, miracles happen, and she's a big believer in making them happen.
"I'll be in touch with your assistant. Tuesday's coming fast."
"Maybe you'll even get my campaign manager next time," he replies, and she wonders what he means.
"Maybe by Tuesday you won't need one," she says instead, and doesn't wait for his reply.
At least the coffee was good, and she heads for the paper's offices.
She hails a cab.
**
Lex Luthor for Governor: For the Good of Metropolis or the Good of LexCorp? she reads, two days before the election, and the font above the fold eclipses exclusive interview by Chloe Sullivan, but she grins as she traces her byline.
Her phone rings.
**
The limo splashes her boots as it pulls up to the kerb. She steps back, and the window winds down three inches.
"Chloe," Lex says, some fucking voice from behind the curtain, and she ignores the warning.
"I found an axe to grind," she says.
"I can see that." He swings the door open, and he steps forward onto the pavement.
"Governor!" she hears from behind.
"I've yet to be sworn in, my friends," he says; smiles, and he shakes hands, kisses babies. She rolls her eyes, and when she moves to turn away his hand is tangled in her scarf.
She tries to tug without him noticing, but he notices, of course he does. "If you'll excuse me," he says, waving to the petitioners and hustling her towards his car.
"Get your hands off me," she whispers.
"Get in the car," he says, "We need to talk."
"No we don't," she replies quietly, knows a scene could damage her career; knows Lex could damage her career.
She gets in the car; says, "I'm not going to work for you."
**
Chloe lies.
END
Smallville, Chloe and Lex, G.
A remix of Tris' really great looooootherville drabble, for PXMIX. How handy that I couldn't bring myself to cull this icon!
***
It's 18:51, and outside the window the streetlights flicker, and her shitty coffee is cold. She watches the layout as it slowly forms, counts her bylines and knows she has to move. Her rolodex is annoyingly empty, but she knows a guy who knows a girl who knows someone else: she always does.
She picks up her phone and dials; holds her breath.
**
She walks to the LexCorp Tower; it's only a two mile walk, and this way she can stop for a coffee. She wraps her purple scarf around her neck, wishes fervently for the beanie to make a fashion comeback.
She wanders on through to the campaign office, rubs her ears to get the feeling back. As she pushes through the glass doors, she looks around; takes in the artwork and the photos and the busiest campaign room she's ever seen.
Lex stares at her, sits there in the open amongst the peasants, and she grins. "Hi," she says after a moment, pushes her hair behind her still-numb ear. "Um, I made the appointment with your campaign manager. I thought —"
"You could avoid me?"
She shrugs, like maybe he should go to hell for suggesting her motivations include cowardice. "You'd be too busy?" she replies, which is close enough. She fiddles with her scarf, looks up and meets his eyes.
"I always have time for you, Chloe. You should know that." He rises, his arm outstretched, and when he kisses her cheek his breath is warm against her skin, smells like coffee, and she hopes he has a fresh pot brewing somewhere close.
She nods, and he turns; leads the way through the bullpen to his office. "Are you serious?" she asks. "You have two private offices in the one building?"
"Chloe," he says, and the tone of his voice is almost disappointment. "I can't risk the hired help getting into my stuff."
He closes the door.
**
Later, she shuffles in her chair, closes her notebook. "I can't thank you enough for taking the time," she says, though she still wonders what happened to the campaign manager.
He rests his hand on hers, curls his fingers into her palm. "You don't have to," he says. "You get your name in big type and maybe a nicer cube. I get publicity from a great writer without an axe to grind. It's an exchange. Business as it should be."
Ah, she thinks, and she knows, but she's not that girl anymore. She looks at her watch, decides it's lunchtime. "I've got another interview downtown." She stands, throws everything in her bag, like maybe she's a busy woman with deadlines to meet. Well, miracles happen, and she's a big believer in making them happen.
"I'll be in touch with your assistant. Tuesday's coming fast."
"Maybe you'll even get my campaign manager next time," he replies, and she wonders what he means.
"Maybe by Tuesday you won't need one," she says instead, and doesn't wait for his reply.
At least the coffee was good, and she heads for the paper's offices.
She hails a cab.
**
Lex Luthor for Governor: For the Good of Metropolis or the Good of LexCorp? she reads, two days before the election, and the font above the fold eclipses exclusive interview by Chloe Sullivan, but she grins as she traces her byline.
Her phone rings.
**
The limo splashes her boots as it pulls up to the kerb. She steps back, and the window winds down three inches.
"Chloe," Lex says, some fucking voice from behind the curtain, and she ignores the warning.
"I found an axe to grind," she says.
"I can see that." He swings the door open, and he steps forward onto the pavement.
"Governor!" she hears from behind.
"I've yet to be sworn in, my friends," he says; smiles, and he shakes hands, kisses babies. She rolls her eyes, and when she moves to turn away his hand is tangled in her scarf.
She tries to tug without him noticing, but he notices, of course he does. "If you'll excuse me," he says, waving to the petitioners and hustling her towards his car.
"Get your hands off me," she whispers.
"Get in the car," he says, "We need to talk."
"No we don't," she replies quietly, knows a scene could damage her career; knows Lex could damage her career.
She gets in the car; says, "I'm not going to work for you."
**
Chloe lies.
END
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2008-10-13 06:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-13 09:22 am (UTC)