Tell You I Set You Apart
Author's Note and Disclaimer:I don't own any of the Nine Lives of Chloe King characters and I haven't seen very many of the episodes, so any mistakes that don't work with what's already been on the show are all mine. I just love Alek and Chloe and the end of tonight's episode was just amazing so I wrote this. Title is from Coldplay's "The Scientist."
They belong together. He said so himself.
She had let him kiss her. And then maybe kissed him back.
Now it's all declarations of love and intertwined fingers and getting caught by her mom and cute nicknames and planning their future children and deciding what color the towels in their guest bathroom will be, right?
She doesn't talk to him for five days. Not that he's been counting or anything, because, really, does he look like someone who wastes five days pining?
He makes sure he keeps a good three feet behind her at all times and doesn't go into her room. It's just too much . . . whatever this is, for him to deal with.
(He doesn't note how she doesn't talk to Brian for five days, either. Honestly.)
Here's something no one knows: she loves smoothies. She loves trying weird sorts of combinations like avocado and kiwi and passion fruit, watching the colors mingle together into something new. She knows it sounds gross, but somehow it all manages to come together into a delicious concoction of sweet and tangy.
As she blends bananas with cocoa powder, soy milk, cinnamon and a cucumber, she can't help but feel like her emotions are in a sort of blender, all of the feelings so mixed up together that she's not even sure how to sort them out.
But when she takes the first sip of her new creation, she realizes it tastes saccharine with a slightly bitter aftertaste, a perfect balance that dances around her taste buds long after she's swallowed. It's familiar, even though she's never tasted it before. And then, without thinking about it, she sees a flash of sandy blonde hair and piercing brown eyes and she picks up the phone, her fingers dialing automatically.
An hour later, they're in her kitchen. Her mom's away and she doesn't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing. She knows which he would think it is and tries not to blush.
"So. . ." she starts, trailing off.
"So." He waits, expectantly.
"I hadn't really thought of what I was going to say beyond 'so.'"
"Yeah," she nods. And then they're standing there and again not saying anything.
"Do you want some popcorn?" she offers as he says, "Chloe."
". . . because I can totally make some. We have a popcorn maker around here somewhere I think. And we probably have some corn kernels. Because you need those when you make popcorn. . ." she says, starting to root through her cupboard.
"Chloe," he says again, evenly, as she pulls out a large bowl.
"I know we have it here somewhere," she continues, bending down to check the lower cupboard. "I think the last time we used it was when Amy and Paul were here for our 'Terminator' marathon, which was seriously the longest couple of hours of my life. I mean, Schwarzenegger? Should have stuck to politics. . ." She stands up and turns around and suddenly he's right in front of her.
"Yes?" she says, quietly.
He leans in, eyes gazing at her with an intensity she's only seen a few times before. "Chloe, I. . ."
Her eyes close and she tilts her head slightly upwards, waiting.
He leans even closer and she can feel his breath on her lips.
"I . . . would love some popcorn," he says, reaching around her for the bowl she had placed on the counter before stepping back.
Her eyes fly open and she looks at him angrily.
"You did that on purpose."
"Did what?" he asks, his eyes wide.
And she decides that two can play this game.
They watch a movie and eat popcorn and she sits on the opposite side of the couch.
As the end credits roll, he gets up and says, "Well that was a pleasant first date. I will see you tomorrow at school," before heading towards the door.
"I'm sorry?" she asks.
He turns back towards her. "It was very pleasant. I especially enjoyed the popcorn."
"Didn't realize we've become so proper."
"What can I say? I'm an Englishman; I know how to act around a lady."
"Oh, God. . ."
"What?" he asks, innocently.
"I can't do this."
"This," she says, gesturing between the two of them. "Lady. Pleasant? 'Enjoying the popcorn?' Did we somehow take a time machine back to 1875?"
"I really don't think they had popcorn back then."
She doesn't have a response to that, so she just shakes her head and walks him to the door.
"Well thanks for keeping me company."
"Anytime. You know that."
She nods again, trying not to feel too much like a bobblehead doll.
He puts on his coat and she holds open the door.
"I'll call you for a second date," he says and something in his smug tone and his smug face and his stupid smug hair that's always perfectly out of place makes her snap. She slams the door before he can walk through.
He looks at her, surprised.
"There's not gonna be a second date."
"Oh?" he asks, as she steps closer to him, slowly, but deliberately, backing him into the now-shut door.
"Definitely not, unless this one improves pretty quickly," she says. She staring at his lips as she continually steps closer.
His looks nervous for about a millisecond before regaining his always-steely composure.
"And what can we do to make it improve?"
"You can stop talking for one thing . . ."
"But, Chloe," he says, mockingly, "I thought relationships were built on mutual understanding and communication and trust and. . ."
She reaches out, places a hand on each of his shoulders and pushes him backwards against the door. He slams into it a little harder than she intended; she's still not used to her strength. She considers apologizing but then decides against it. He's been a jerk all night and deserves to be pushed around a little bit.
He definitely looks surprised now, but she doesn't register that thought for too long before she quickly moves her face right in front of his. "Let's put it this way. I already trust you more than pretty much anyone else on this planet. We're Alek and Chloe. We argue all the time and are never going to fully understand each other and as for the communication thing, well . . . some things take time."
"And you've got the time?"
"I've got eight lives, remember?" she says, smirking. She's so close to him, she can't really see anything other than his eyes.
"I never forget."
"Oh, you remember everything, do you?"
"Everything," he says almost breathlessly, his eyes flicking down to her mouth and then back up at her eyes.
"Hmm. Do you remember where you were, what? Six days ago now?"
"Oh, you've been counting," she says, smiling, a little triumphantly.
"No, I'm just very aware of time and space."
"Really? How's your space right now?" she looks down to where she's practically standing on his toes, but she refuses to move.
"A little too far away still," he responds.
"Well, there might be something we can—mmph."
Her thought remains unfinished as he wraps his hands behind her head and his lips crash onto hers. She's practically leaning on him, she's so close and the doorknob is digging into his back and it's making them a little off balance, but neither of them care. Their kisses are fast as their lips quickly move over one another's. They're kissing as if this might be the last time they ever do this, so they need to get as much of each other as possible.
After a minute, she wraps her arms around his neck and slows everything down like she's savoring it, like she's enjoying him and everything he makes her feel. She admits it, she is.
Eventually they break apart. He reaches up and plays with one of her blonde curls.
"I really can't do things halfway with you, can I?" he says, a little out of breath.
"I'm pretty sure that wasn't halfway." She's breathing hard too.
"Well, restraint never was one of my strong suits," he says, before leaning in to give her one more quick kiss. Her eyes are still closed when he pulls away.
"But that is a story for a different time," he says, a mischievous smile sneaking up onto his face.
He opens the door, holding onto the doorknob. "Goodnight, Chloe."
They break up three weeks later and get back together a day after that.
They never were good at being apart. Maybe because they weren't meant to be.
He gets hurt defending her against the hunters and she freaks out. A month later she does something he deems "irresponsible" and they argue some more.
Then they make up. They always make up.
Six years later, they are standing in the aisle of Bed, Bath, and Beyond.
"I really like the teal."
"But the mauve is really nice too."
"Mauve it is, then."
"But the teal would match the rest of the room better."
"So we'll go with teal."
"I'm kind of ready for a change though. Maybe we should go with the mauve and paint!" her eyes light up as she says this.
"Paint," he says dryly.
"Yes! I can see it now. These towels and a slightly darker shade for the walls. What do you think?"
"I think you might be the death of me," he says, but his eyes are smiling.
"I knew you'd say yes," she grins, nudging his shoulder with hers.
"So I guess we're headed to Home Depot after we're done here."
She grabs his free hand (the one that's not carrying their new bathroom set) as they head toward the registers and she smiles at him as his thumb slowly rubs over the ring on her fourth finger.
Their guest bathroom turns out beautifully.
Thanks for reading and reviewing. Love to all!