Work Text:
Only You
by Pixie Child
(glitery_insane_pixie_child@yahoo.ca)
"'Cause it's you and me and all other people
/ I don't know why
/ I can't keep my eyes off of you."
~ Lighthouse, 'You and Me'
Chloe's not really sure why she's here, at a Valentine’s Day dance when it's something she always swore she'd never do. Well, that's not exactly true. She knows why she's here. Lana begged her to go, something about her needing to learn that there's life outside the Torch and Chloe's never been able to say 'no' to her. Which is why she's standing at the back of the gym, trying not to think of how pathetic she looks as she checks her watch for the twenty seventh time, not that she's counting, because she promised Lana she'd stay until eight thirty. And scowls, inwardly cursing the incredibly slow passage of time when her watch only reads 7:54 while making herself watch anything other then LanaAndClark, who're dancing so close they could be one person. She must have been out of her mind when she agreed to let Lana take her out shopping, cover her face in all sorts of products probably made that the cost of some poor animal's life and bring her here when Chloe should have known this would happen. Even crazy or possessed, it's not like Lana had wanted to go with her.
"Her." She jerks her head up, surprised to see Lana standing there in front of her like maybe she was wrong, maybe Lana Lange did want to be here with Chloe and she was only dancing with Clark for over an hour to be nice. "Clark's pulled his disappearing act again." Or not. And she tells herself that's just all the just she had for dinner and not her heart sinking to the pit of her stomach. "Where does he go when he does this? And does he really think I'll be understanding forever?" The reporter shrugs. She feels like she should probably defend him like she always does, but defending him will just make Lana mad at her and that's never a good idea. Kind of like going to a dance knowing you hate them just because her friend bats her eyes and pouts ever so slightly. "Where exactly does he go all the time, anyways?" Another shrug and she goes back to staring at her ridiculously high shoes that look like they belong in some 60's comic book on a helpless-female type character.
Which she borrowed from Lois, of all people.
"I don't know. Who knows why Clark does anything."
"Yeah. You're right." Chloe's right wrist itches and she has to resist checking the time again. When Lana's this pissed off, she's like a ticking time bomb and any sudden movement or gesture might set her off. "Were you here the whole time?" She coughs and rubs her wrist, focusing one the wall on the other side of the room, past Lana. "This isn't what I meant when I said you had to get a social life. You have to actually be <u>social</u>." Responding along the line with something like 'I wouldn't mind being social with you' wouldn't be any brighter then agreeing to come in the first place, so she doesn't say anything. Figuring Lana'll just get fed up and leave her alone to sit out the rest of her sentence. When she doesn't, Chloe starts reciting all the different things she could have said to have gotten out of coming here in the first place. "So, wanna cause a scandal?"
"What?"
"Come on, let's dance." Before she knows what's going on, Chloe's being pulled into the crowd of people dancing and then Lana's got her arm around her waist and they're dancing to some slow song the cover band is playing. If she'd stop and think about how this is bound to end up badly, she'd pull away but Chloe can't get past how right it feels to be swaying to the music, focusing only on the feeling of Lana's hand in her's, so she lets herself get lost in her deep brown eyes and nothing else in the world matters. When the song ends, they stay together, still swaying as the band switches to another sappy song, and another. For awhile, she thinks that maybe Lana feels it too, maybe this is how it's meant to be, maybe they'll both finally get their once-upon-a-times and happily-ever-afters together.
So she's completely unprepared for when Clark comes back and Lana's dancing with him after a few names, a swat to the head, some half-hearted excuse on his part and those damn puppy-dog eyes that could get him out of anything. Chloe checks her watch again, grateful when it reads 8:45. She gets her coat, goes home keeping herself together long enough to get home before she collapses one the couch and cries until she falls asleep and, thankfully, doesn't dream.
end