Title: The Sullivan Chronicles
Archive: A Small Drop of Ink
Summary: A series of unrelated drabbles starring Chloe Sullivan, all written for The Wednesday 100.
Disclaimer: Belongs to Gough, Millar, DC Comics, and the WB.
"Power's out again," Clark announced as he entered Chloe's apartment.
"I could see that," she replied, amusement ringing in her voice.
As his eyes adjusted, Clark heard a rustling sound near where Chloe stood. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"Looking for some matches to light the candles."
"We don't need any matches. Allow me." With that, he stared at the nearest candle causing it to ignite. Almost immediately, Chloe's face was illuminated.
"I hate when you show off like that," she chuckled as she playfully swatted his arm.
Clark arched an eyebrow as he mindlessly flipped through the channels. "There's nothing on," he groaned.
"How can you tell if you're flipping by the channels so fast?" Chloe asked as she snuggled in next to him.
He shrugged. "It's an ability we guys have."
Just then, John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John popped up on the screen, singing about "Summer Nights". In one swift move, Chloe snatched the remote control out of Clark's hand before he could change it.
"What the...?" he started.
"Sorry, but I love this movie," she smiled.
Clark just smiled and rolled his eyes.
Stretching out across the booth, Chloe closes her eyes and inhales the warm scent. It's welcoming, comfortable, and completely a part of her. Whatever would she do without this place?
"What'll it be, Chlo'?" the waitress asks, causing Chloe to open her eyes.
"The usual, please."
Within minutes, her favorite beverage is placed before her. It's dark, rich brown color appears inviting and immediately calms her down from the rigors of her day. Gingerly, she takes a sip and lets the hot liquid pass her lips and slide down her esophagus.
She sighs contentedly. "Ah, coffee. The reporter's best friend."
"Clark, is everything okay?" Chloe asked as she entered the barn loft. "I got your message."
With his back to her, he took a deep breath. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you for some time, but I've always chickened out before."
Concerned, Chloe walked closer to him. "What is it?"
Clark turned around and met her green eyes. "Chloe, you're probably going to hate me when I say this."
Chloe laughed. "You're a hard guy to hate."
"Okay, here goes." Clark took a deep breath. "Here's the truth. I broke your favorite CD when we were thirteen."
SAFE IN YOUR ARMS (SMALLVILLE/X-MEN)
Chloe Sullivan rested her head on John Allardyce's shoulder and sighed. She loved the moments when she could sneak away from everyone and find him. It didn't matter that he could burn anything he wanted to or that most of the world didn't like him. He loved her, and that was enough to make her feel safe.
"You're still not ready to tell everybody about us, are you?" John asked as his eyes met Chloe's.
"I will, but right now, I don't want to share you."
She then closed her eyes and fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.
She stares at him, her arms crossed and her features stoic. The last time they had spoken, they had slung some harsh words at each other. Now that he's back, she isn't quite sure what to say.
"Did you find what you were searching for?" Chloe asks, her eyes fixed on the man standing in front of her.
"No, not out there. I still feel empty inside," he answers, his expression never hesitating. "It's taken me this long to discover what I want."
"And that is?"
Lex wraps his arms around her and kisses her. Pulling back, he smiles. "You."
"Honey, are you sure you want to do this?" the hairdresser asked as she peered down at Chloe.
Chloe swallowed her fear and nodded. "Yes." She tried to ignore the feeling of dread that rose in her stomach, knowing this was what she had to do. It would protect her.
The hairdresser placed a blue cap on her customer's head and set to work. After what seemed like an eternity, her hair was dyed and washed. The hairdresser turned the chair towards the mirror, and Chloe gasped. An unrecognizable brunette stared back at her.
"That'll be fifty dollars, Miss Lane."