Season 6, based on spoilers for "Crimson"
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Clark watched Chloe stalk from the room, her head held regally high. Reluctant admiration filled him. It wasn't every woman who could have her darkest secrets exposed in front of her boyfriend and twenty other people, and still hold her head up. A lot of women would have run from the room in tears. She walked out like a queen.
All of a sudden, attacking Lana and his mom lost its appeal. He'd pretty much said everything he had to say, anyway, and then some. He spun on his heel and went after Chloe.
She'd apparently broken into a run as soon as she was out of sight, because he caught a glimpse of her black silk dress disappearing around the corner. He headed down the stone-walled corridor after her. He could jump into superspeed and catch her in an instant, but pursuing her like a cat chasing a mouse was more fun. And right now he was all about having fun.
Someone grabbed his arm. "Hey, CK. Leave her alone."
He looked over his shoulder and discovered Jimmy Olsen standing there with a belligerent look on his face.
Clark could hardly repress an amused smile. Olsen was a pipsqueak, a skinny, geeky little guy with sandy blond hair and freckles and gentle blue eyes. There was no way he could stop Clark from doing anything he wanted to do. Clark could beat him up with his superpowers tied behind his back.
"Go to hell," he said shortly, and kept striding down the hall.
Jimmy darted in front of him, a determined look on his face. Clark came to a halt, not because he had to but because he found himself interested in what the pipsqueak had to say, and how far he might go to protect Chloe.
"Leave her alone," Jimmy said, more fiercely. "Haven't you already done enough to her?"
Clark gave his most irritating grin. "From your point of view, I guess I have."
"Damn it." Jimmy lifted his hands and shoved Clark in the chest, hard. Clark fell back half a step in an automatic reaction, just so Jimmy didn't break the bones in his hands. Not that he cared all that much about Jimmy's bones. It was a reflex developed from living among humans all his life. "Damn you, CK. She's been nothing but a good friend to you. She's dropped everything, even work, even dates with me, to come running every time you call. And this is how you repay her? By embarrassing her in front of half the county?"
"What the hell is your problem?" Clark frowned, confused. "Maybe you didn't hear what I said. She screwed me in the broom closet at the Daily Planet."
"I heard!" Jimmy's gentle eyes blazed. "So what? You think you're entitled to humilate the hell out of her in public now?"
"I just don't understand why you care about her any more. She slept with me. She belongs to me now."
"No, she doesn't." Jimmy's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Just because she made a mistake doesn't make her yours. She's my girlfriend, damn it, and you need to leave her the hell alone."
Possessive rage swelled in Clark. "She's mine."
"Goddamn it--" Jimmy lifted his hand, and Clark glowered at him, baring his teeth.
"Go ahead and hit me, little man. I dare you."
"Hold it." Clark hadn't heard Chloe approaching, but all of a sudden she was shouldering her way between them, grabbing Jimmy's arm. She must have heard their voices raised. "The two of you need to quit acting like Neanderthals."
"He started it," Clark said.
"You started it, asshole!"
"Okay, so you're not behaving like Neanderthals." She rolled her eyes. "You're behaving like two-year-olds. Knock it off, boys."
Jimmy's eyes glittered with rage, and he lifted his arm higher, balling his hand into a fist. "There's no excuse for what he did to you in there, Chloe."
"Jimmy..." Chloe struggled, forcing Jimmy's fist down. "He's not himself, okay?"
"Yeah, I can see he's drunk. So what? You think that excuses him treating you that way?"
"No, but..." Clark saw her big hazel eyes brimming with tears. "What he said in there... it was true. I had sex with him." Her voice broke, and she swallowed. "I'm so sorry, Jimmy."
Jimmy hesitated and looked down at her. "Look," he said, more gently, "I've known for a while you had feelings for him. I'm not stupid, you know. I have eyes, and I see the way you look at him."
"I'm sorry," she whispered again, her lip trembling. Clark felt a vague trickle of guilt, but he tried to push it away. He didn't want to feel guilty. He was all about fun tonight, and guilt wasn't fun.
"I think maybe you need time to figure out what you want," Jimmy said. He shot a dark look at Clark. "Without either of us bothering you."
She hesitated for a long moment. "No," she said softly, reaching out and putting her hand on his shoulder. She stared into his eyes. "I don't need any time to figure it out. You deserve better than someone who has feelings for another guy, Jimmy. I'm sorry."
"Told you she belonged to me," Clark said smugly.
"Oh, please." She rounded on him, bristling. "You stupid son of a bitch, do you really think I'm interested in you after you screwed Lois?"
"I didn't screw Lois." He shrugged. "I got bored."
"Jerk." She glared at him, her eyes flashing. "I guess that's supposed to make me feel better?"
He grinned. "It should. You didn't bore me."
"God, I need another mop," she muttered under her breath. She glanced at Jimmy. "Can you give us a minute alone?"
Jimmy frowned, looking concerned. "You're not going to kill him, are you?"
"No. Although I'll admit it's tempting. But he's not worth it."
Jimmy considered her for a moment longer, then shrugged and disappeared back into the dining room. Chloe took another step toward Clark. He decided to kiss her hard, just so there was no question who she belonged to, but as he bent over she lifted her hand, and he realized there was a linen napkin in her hand. She started wiping his lips.
He reared back. "Hey. What the hell are you doing? I'm not a toddler, damn it."
"You've been acting like one." She rubbed harder. "I'm getting all this lipstick off you."
He hadn't been aware he had lipstick all over his face, but he supposed it wasn't surprising, considering how Lois had kissed him in the alley. She scrubbed at his lips and his neck, then grimaced.
"I don't think I really want to know where else you might be wearing lipstick."
"She didn't take my shirt off," he said, shrugging. "Or my pants."
"Thank God for small favors." She lifted an eyebrow. "So how do you feel?"
"I feel fine. I..." He trailed off. All of a sudden he felt... strange. More like the Clark Kent he'd always been, and less like the guy who was all about fun. He looked down at her, and suddenly the tears in her eyes hit him a lot harder than the mop handle had.
Oh, God. The things he'd said to her. The way he'd treated her. He stared at her, appalled.
"I guess I got most of it off you," she said, reading his expression of horror.
"Most of what?"
"There was red K in the lipstick, Clark."
"Oh, my God." He remembered thinking he was acting out of character, but he'd honestly had no idea he was under the influence of red K. Suddenly he recalled everything he'd done tonight, everything he'd said, and shame washed over him in a hot wave. "Chloe... God, Chlo..."
"Don't bother to apologize." She turned and stalked away, and he trailed numbly after her, with no idea what he should do or say to fix things. He wasn't sure he could fix things at this point. "It wasn't your fault."
"But you're still mad."
She was heading for the front door, and she didn't look back. "Can you blame me?"
"Uh..." He thought about the things he'd said to her in the broom closet, the things they'd done in the broom closet, and he went hot with embarrassment... and lust. He pushed the lust away, aware that this really wasn't the time to indulge in it. He'd seduced her, then treated her like a whore, run off with her cousin, and wrecked her relationship with her boyfriend. He wouldn't be surprised if she never talked to him again. She'd certainly never want to make love to him again.
"Exactly." She stepped out into the cool darkness of the evening and headed for her car. He continued to trail behind her, because he was afraid to let her out of his sight, afraid if he let her go, he might never see her again. "I know it wasn't your fault, Clark, but let's be honest here. You have a real talent for wrecking my life. I'm not sure I can keep dealing with you and all your... eccentricities. Maybe it'd be best if we just... drop our friendship."
Panic filled him. He depended on her, depended on seeing her and calling her and visiting her on a regular basis. No one else in his life was as important to him, and he couldn't live without her friendship. "Chloe," he said softly, reaching out and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Chlo, please."
She shook off his hand. They'd reached her car, and she unlocked it and dropped down into the driver's seat.
"Chlo." He knew he sounded pathetic, but he didn't much care. "Don't leave me. Please."
He wasn't talking just about her driving away, and they both knew it. But she looked up at him, her jaw set, and started the car.
She gunned the motor and took off, leaving him standing alone in the darkness.
Read Chapter 7 here.