OOM: Luthor Mansion, Smallville
Oct. 15th, 2006 09:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
torched_reporterSo how'd you decide? Rock-paper-scissors, coin toss, or did you just happen to draw the short straw?
It still hurts to think about the choice he made. And how he couldn’t find it in him to tell her. She would’ve understood, because there’s Riley. Well, there was Riley, sort of. If she could ever find her way back to Milliways. But he didn’t tell her. She had to find out herself, walk in on Clark and Lana engaged in some serious lip-lock and get that stab of pain that sometimes came when she thought about Riley or Clark.
He was her best friend and he couldn’t be honest with her. And that’s why she was here now. Here where she shouldn’t be, ready to turn her soul over to the devil.
Maybe it was better that she couldn’t get back to Milliways. Then at least he couldn’t find out.
Or was it just that it was too much fun making a fool of me that you couldn't reveal your secret? Have a nice life, Clark.
So she sits there in that beautiful study in the Luthor mansion, her hands gripping a glass of tea in her hand. She sits there, blankly, thinking back on her earlier discussion with Clark and the words that were said. She couldn’t remember ever being that angry with someone. But then again, she had never been betrayed quite like that before. And she had trusted Clark with just about everything. She even tried telling him about Milliways on a number of occasions!
It wasn’t her fault that all Clark could see was raven hair and doe eyes.
“ I'm glad you finally decided to accept my offer. You know, don't you, that you have a very exciting future ahead of you, Miss Sullivan.”
You wouldn’t think Lionel Luthor was the devil just by looking at him on first glance. Maybe if you studied long enough, she decided, and noticed those eyes- that those eyes were nothing but cold steel. The long mane of hair and the beard completed the ensemble and maybe, just maybe, there was something in his demeanor that told you to stay away.
But it was a column in the Daily Planet. And in exchange, well, it’s not like Clark trusted her anyway. It was time to give him a reason.
“Well, opportunities like this aren't dropped on your doorstep every day,” she hears herself say. It’s almost surreal. The past seems more real than her present. Maybe because every instinct she has tells her she’s making a mistake.
“Why the sudden change of heart?”
“You were right about Clark,” she replies, emotionally detached. “He wasn't who I thought he was.”
Or maybe because she knows that she’s really crossing the line now. This wasn’t good journalistic instinct. This was just wrong.
Lionel Luthor utters an unsurprised, “Oh,” and she continues talking, needing to hear herself speak to fight away the doubts and uncertainties: “I'm surprised I hadn't noticed earlier. So much for my crack journalistic instinct.”
“No, no, love has a way of blinding even the sharpest minds. We don't look because we don't want to see.” He says everything so reasonably. No wonder people listen to him. No wonder people fear him. “But once love has been stripped away, then we see the real person clearly. They're revealed to us with all their flaws, their foibles, and their secrets.”
She blinks and she knows she’s not stoic anymore. She’s afraid and nervous and knows she’s making the wrong choice but it’s too late now. It’s not love doing this – she doesn’t love Clark in that way, not anymore. It’s a lack of choices, it’s a lack of belonging. He wasn’t who she thought she was, and now she wants to know why.
Then, Lionel Luthor looks down at his watch and back up at her. Calculating. Serene. “Oh, I've got a meeting. I'm sorry to rush you out like this.”
So she stands, placing the tea cup back on the table and clutching her purse tightly to her chest like a lifeline. It’s not a lifeline. She is, for lack of a better term, doomed.
“It’s fine,” she hears herself say again, that out of body experience returning. It lasts all the way to the door, as the devil himself sees her out and then she stops and peers up at him. “Mr. Luthor? Why are you so interested in Clark?”
And he just chuckles, and it’s scary. “You don’t expect me to show you all my cards, now do you?”
She tries not to let her face fall, but it’s impossible. “No, I guess not.”
But she wishes she knew. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel like such a traitor. Once again, she wonders what Riley would think and if he’d still accept her. How would Pete feel? Or Clark? Even her own father? But it’s her life and she needs to live it and if a deal with Lionel Luthor will get her her dream, well, Chloe Sullivan had never been one to ignore opportunity knocking.
They reach the door and, ever the gentleman in disguise, Lionel Luthor opens it for her. “All will be revealed in good time, Miss Sullivan.”
And that gets a smile, one of the more genuine ones she’s had in weeks. Because in this entire conversation, those are the only words that ring true to her.
“Thank you, Mr. Luthor.”
And the deal’s done.
It still hurts to think about the choice he made. And how he couldn’t find it in him to tell her. She would’ve understood, because there’s Riley. Well, there was Riley, sort of. If she could ever find her way back to Milliways. But he didn’t tell her. She had to find out herself, walk in on Clark and Lana engaged in some serious lip-lock and get that stab of pain that sometimes came when she thought about Riley or Clark.
He was her best friend and he couldn’t be honest with her. And that’s why she was here now. Here where she shouldn’t be, ready to turn her soul over to the devil.
Maybe it was better that she couldn’t get back to Milliways. Then at least he couldn’t find out.
Or was it just that it was too much fun making a fool of me that you couldn't reveal your secret? Have a nice life, Clark.
So she sits there in that beautiful study in the Luthor mansion, her hands gripping a glass of tea in her hand. She sits there, blankly, thinking back on her earlier discussion with Clark and the words that were said. She couldn’t remember ever being that angry with someone. But then again, she had never been betrayed quite like that before. And she had trusted Clark with just about everything. She even tried telling him about Milliways on a number of occasions!
It wasn’t her fault that all Clark could see was raven hair and doe eyes.
“ I'm glad you finally decided to accept my offer. You know, don't you, that you have a very exciting future ahead of you, Miss Sullivan.”
You wouldn’t think Lionel Luthor was the devil just by looking at him on first glance. Maybe if you studied long enough, she decided, and noticed those eyes- that those eyes were nothing but cold steel. The long mane of hair and the beard completed the ensemble and maybe, just maybe, there was something in his demeanor that told you to stay away.
But it was a column in the Daily Planet. And in exchange, well, it’s not like Clark trusted her anyway. It was time to give him a reason.
“Well, opportunities like this aren't dropped on your doorstep every day,” she hears herself say. It’s almost surreal. The past seems more real than her present. Maybe because every instinct she has tells her she’s making a mistake.
“Why the sudden change of heart?”
“You were right about Clark,” she replies, emotionally detached. “He wasn't who I thought he was.”
Or maybe because she knows that she’s really crossing the line now. This wasn’t good journalistic instinct. This was just wrong.
Lionel Luthor utters an unsurprised, “Oh,” and she continues talking, needing to hear herself speak to fight away the doubts and uncertainties: “I'm surprised I hadn't noticed earlier. So much for my crack journalistic instinct.”
“No, no, love has a way of blinding even the sharpest minds. We don't look because we don't want to see.” He says everything so reasonably. No wonder people listen to him. No wonder people fear him. “But once love has been stripped away, then we see the real person clearly. They're revealed to us with all their flaws, their foibles, and their secrets.”
She blinks and she knows she’s not stoic anymore. She’s afraid and nervous and knows she’s making the wrong choice but it’s too late now. It’s not love doing this – she doesn’t love Clark in that way, not anymore. It’s a lack of choices, it’s a lack of belonging. He wasn’t who she thought she was, and now she wants to know why.
Then, Lionel Luthor looks down at his watch and back up at her. Calculating. Serene. “Oh, I've got a meeting. I'm sorry to rush you out like this.”
So she stands, placing the tea cup back on the table and clutching her purse tightly to her chest like a lifeline. It’s not a lifeline. She is, for lack of a better term, doomed.
“It’s fine,” she hears herself say again, that out of body experience returning. It lasts all the way to the door, as the devil himself sees her out and then she stops and peers up at him. “Mr. Luthor? Why are you so interested in Clark?”
And he just chuckles, and it’s scary. “You don’t expect me to show you all my cards, now do you?”
She tries not to let her face fall, but it’s impossible. “No, I guess not.”
But she wishes she knew. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel like such a traitor. Once again, she wonders what Riley would think and if he’d still accept her. How would Pete feel? Or Clark? Even her own father? But it’s her life and she needs to live it and if a deal with Lionel Luthor will get her her dream, well, Chloe Sullivan had never been one to ignore opportunity knocking.
They reach the door and, ever the gentleman in disguise, Lionel Luthor opens it for her. “All will be revealed in good time, Miss Sullivan.”
And that gets a smile, one of the more genuine ones she’s had in weeks. Because in this entire conversation, those are the only words that ring true to her.
“Thank you, Mr. Luthor.”
And the deal’s done.
