Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville.

Summary: Parody on the Lana power many people speculate on in certain fics. Chloe didn't mind attention, but she wasn't sure this was the kind of attention she wanted... Takes place early season nine. Crackfic.

Chlark, mentions of one-sided Chlart, mentions of Chlollie, brief mentions of Chlictor and ChlAC, possible others.


Chloe frowned at Dr. Hamilton as he read her the diagnosis. "The power of attraction? That's ridiculous!" She scoffed, shaking her head. "If I were Lana then maybe I'd be inclined to believe you, but me... No."

"I assure you Ms. Sullivan, my diagnosis is quite... Thorough." Emil assured her, his visage leering down at her from the large screen in the main room of the Watchtower.

"Look, there's got to be some kind of mistake... Clark, quit touching my breasts."

"Sorry." He apologized halfheartedly from his place crouched down in front of her, hand down her bra. "I just..." He cut himself off by burying his face in her cleavage, earning a yelp from the blonde in response.

"I said stop, not suck!" She hissed, blushing profusely as she whapped him on the back of the head, the Kryptonian only jerking back in automatic response more than any actual pain (Or feeling at all.)

"Regardless Chloe, you have a meteor power, and that is it." The doctor spoke firmly, pursing his lips at her questioning of his professional opinion.

"Can't I get something useful, like my healing power back?" She whined rhetorically, already knowing the answer.

Emil responded to her briskly and true to form. "No. Perhaps I could find out a way to tone down the effects, but until then you need to avoid prolonged human contact." He licked his lips as he looked at her. "And possibly on any visual communication." With that he shut off his end of the feed, leaving her staring up at the screen in frustration.

"Damnit." She growled, slamming her tiny hands on the table and backing away when Clark made to grab her once more. "No, stop it." She reprimanded, grimacing when he pouted up at her like a kicked puppy. Despite being 6'3 and clad completely in black he still managed to pull it off. She sighed at his look and unable to deny him slumped down, trying to think while he happily nuzzled her breasts.


Her "ability" had first awoken, as far as she knew, that morning when she had been working on tracking down Oliver. She'd been scouring the web and CCTV footage across the state in a search for him when she had gotten a call form Lois telling her that she had been contacted by the blur once more.

The blonde had ignored it at first, but her guilt at calling her former best friend a monster earlier in the week for not saving Jimmy had gotten the best of her and she had decided to visit the Planet to apologize; She hadn't noticed the looks she received from some of the passing men (and a few of the women) as she got into her car and drove to the massive building that housed some of the best journalists in the world.

When she had found him on the roof, a place he seemed to frequent more and more, she had told him that she shouldn't have blamed him for Jimmy's death, and that she was sorry for her hasty judgment.

Of course, she hadn't noticed him edging closer until his nose was practically buried in her neck, taking in her scent as she spun around to face him, eyes wide in shock. "The he- Mmph!?" She had started to query, stunned as he locked lips with her own.

When he had basically started dry humping her she had gotten away from him with a quick bluff and run down the stairs to her car as fast as she could.

At first she had thought that something was wrong with Clark himself, until she noticed some of the looks she was receiving as she walked through the streets of Metropolis, and then things had gotten weird.

She'd arrived back home and Emil had started hitting on her. After voicing her concerns and him taking a blood sample to appease her (or earn some brownie points and try to get into her pants judging by his false compliments on her bone structure and asking if she wanted a "lollipop" after the deed) she had shoved him out the door and asked him to test for anything... Off.

Which led to her current predicament of having Clark on one side licking at her earlobe while Victor leaned against her other side and gently stroked her thigh. She probably would have made more of an uproar about the situation if she hadn't been so stunned by the situation in question.

Thankfully due to his being half-machine Victor apparently had more restraint than either Emil or Clark, thus explaining his befuddled look as he stared at his hand seemingly acting of it's own accord. "Now, you say you have power over people's feelings?" He asked again.

"The power of attraction." She corrected for the fourth time, sighing. "It's why your hand keeps doing that."

"Right." He stared at his hand. "It seems more like a physical response than an emotional one, though. Maybe my wires are getting crossed and trying to compensate..." He pondered aloud as he finally managed to wrest control of his appendage back. "Sorry." He apologized for the fourth time as he held his hand to his side.

"'s not your fault." She huffed, leaning away from Clark as his lips gravitated toward her own. Again. "This is getting annoying." She spoke to him. If Clark Kent had draped himself over her a year ago and started trying to make out with her she would have gladly gone along for the ride, Jimmy be damned. As it was however right now all she felt was irritation. (Alright, not ALL she felt, she was still a healthy human female, after all.)

"Hey guys." AC greeted with a wave, stepping through the doors of the Watchtower with a bright grin on his face. "I need some help locating an oil tanker off the coast of- whoa..." He started sniffing at the air. "Something's different. Chloe?" He queried, brow raised as he eyed her speculatively. "Y'know, you could probably pull off orange."

"Aaaaaaand I'm out." She deadpanned, stepping past him and swatting away his hand as it reached toward her ass.

AC stared after her with a confused expression. "Why'd she leave so quickly?" He asked them. Him. "Hey, where's Clark?"


Chloe stepped out of the building with a put-upon frown. Despite trying to get away there was one person she couldn't quite avoid; a certain dark-haired former farmboy practically glued to her side. "Where are we going now?" Said attachment asked her, looking quite content to just sit down where they were and- She firmly shut down that line of thought and pursed her lips, purposefully marching toward her car. "Because I could get us there faster." He offered, stopping her in her tracks.

While the "us" part didn't particularly appeal to her ("Shut up, brain!") the thought of nigh-instantaneous travel did give her pause. "Don't you have a certain brunette to "report" to?" She attempted to distract him, shifting his focus elsewhere.

"Lois?" He questioned, tilting his head adorably. ("Damn it brain, I said stop!")

"Yes, Lois." She brushed a hand through her blonde, wavy locks and covered her breasts, taking a step back as he tried once more to molest her. ("BRAIN! Stop it!")

"Well, maybe." He nodded. "Will you come with if I do?" He pouted.

"Sure." She agreed reluctantly. 'Maybe I can shrug him off onto Lois and get him out of my hair.'