Title: Chloe Sullivan, Achingly Witty Wonder Reporter (3/?)

Couple: ChLex, naturally

Rating: PG; maybe PG13, for brief, light innuendo (just to be safe)

Disclaimer: Still own nothing, including the paraphrased line from the Blue Oyster Cult song, 'Godzilla'.

Feedback: Please. Thanks, by the way, for the compliments on the last two parts. I won't continue this unless people keep liking it.

Author's Note: I don't know where this series is going, but I did warn you that the Clark-related stuff may take a backseat.

******

I wonder what Lex meant when he said 'we should experiment'. I know that, despite what he said (it's called 'flirting'; we engage in it from time to time), he was mostly talking about Clark, but I've seen the way he looks at me --I admit I look at him the same way, and I may take advantage of the attraction, if he doesn't.

I, Chloe Sullivan, do have a crush on Lex Luthor --if his piercing blue eyes and smirk don't make you woozy, then the meteor rocks have screwed with your libido. It started as completely physical (gasp-Chloe-Sullivan-can-be-superficial-oh-my-god-alert-the-press), but then I got ahold of his research.

Unless he actually has a team of drugged gorillas randomly hacking away at a bunch of computers somewhere, (having met Dominic, I begin to wonder if that theory isn't too far off), Lex knows what he's doing (it has crossed my mind that one has to be fairly intelligent to run the corporation that has eaten all of Metropolis --oh, no, there goes Tokyo...oh, no...LUTHORCORP!-- but, again, I've met Dominic). Brilliance in a guy is something I find very sexy --that, and a sense of humor. If I didn't, then I, too, would join the ranks of misguided teenage girls who drool over Wonder Jock Whitney Fordman. ('Hey, girls! There's a new toy in town...Whitney, the Posable Action Figure Boyfriend! At the low cost of three years of cakey makeup, a few months of lacking judgement, and the ability to pretend football KICKSASSWOOOOGOTEAM!, he can be yours today! You lucky bitch, you').

Anyway, I've gotten that out of my system.

It's the day after Lex made his comment (and after I kissed him), and I'm on my way to the Manor. I vow play 'hard to get' a little longer --make him beg for the wonder that is sexy, multi-talented (I'll let you draw your own conclusions), stunningly intelligent, achingly witty Chloe Sullivan.

We aren't going to experiment on Clark (this is Focused and Serious Chloe speaking now). I don't want to hurt my best friend, even though he's blown me off on many occasions. Those occasions often involve saving some jock from suffering the wrath of an MRM (Meteor-Rock Mutant), so I can't be angry at him --those occasions give me more research material.

I'm simply curious about him --and I'm allowed to be, thank you very much. Besides, I wouldn't be a very good reporter if I let his suspicious behavior slide, now would I? When Lex and I make concrete progress, I'll consider turning over our findings to someone who can analyze them further (as long as the Kents don't come into any danger). Until then...

"Hello, Miss Sullivan," one of Lex's servants greets me when I breeze through the front door. From the look in her eyes, I know what she's thinking --and while I wouldn't mind tossing Lex on his pool table, I'm here to do Serious Stuff. At least for a while.

"Hello," I return politely. "Is he in?" I ask, wiggling my eyebrows a bit.

A knowing smile graces her lips (I can already hear the gossip: Master Luthor is entertaining high school girls! Gasp!), as she nods. "I believe he's expecting you, as usual."

I hoist my bag further up my shoulder. "Great." I slide open the zipper and dig through the contents, just for show. "Gosh, I hope I have all my supplies. Mister Luthor will be terribly disappointed if I left some of his favorite goodies back at my office." (I can't help it; I have to tease the staff.)

Her eyes light up, and she scurries away.

"Honey, I'm home!" I call, as I stroll into his office. "Darling, we must do something about this furniture. It's so...last year."

Lex doesn't flinch --he looks up from his laptop, gives me a quick smile, and says, "Hello, Chloe."

"Wait until you see what I have for you today, Snookums!"

He sighs. "You can stop now."

"Not until I get a reaction," I retort.

"How much coffee have you had today?" Lex asks curiously. He stands to accept the folders I hold out to him.

"Just the usual amount, Honey-butt."

The files are held still as Lex freezes. His brow furrows, and he blinks several times. "'Honey-butt'," he repeats.

I nod. "A bit of inspired genius, if I do say so myself, Sweetcheeks."

Then he drops the folders (completely scattering all my hard work across the room; like, thanks so much, ungrateful rich brat), grabs my hands, and kisses me. "Was that reaction enough?" he asks, when it ends.

I sigh in mock-swoon and bat my eyelashes. Doing my best (and I do it well) Valley Girl impression, I say, "Oh, Lex, that was like a little dose of...magic!"

"I kiss you, and you can't appreciate it?"

I bend down to pick up the papers, though I have to keep shuffling them around to get them in the proper order. "I'd appreciate you getting your ass down on the floor and helping me pick up your mess. Or are your rich-boy knees too delicate for such exertion?"

He notices my raised eyebrow and gives me the same look. "It's not that. I just don't want to damage my pants."

Rolling my eyes in annoyance, I switch the growing pile to my right hand so I can yank on his pantsleg with the other. Caught unaware, Lex stumbles --he trips over my huge feet and crashes facedown onto the Oriental rug.

I stop what I'm doing, unable to stifle the guffaws. "You'd think a skilled fencer --who is undoubtedly skilled in other areas requiring grace and coordination-- would be more careful where he's walking."

He takes a deep breath against the rug before heaving himself into a sitting position. He says nothing, only stares at me as though I've turned into a cheerleader.

The file folders are all properly stuffed, and I begin to organize them. "Let's see," I say to myself, placing one on top of the 'Clark-adoption' pile and another on the 'various MRM abilities' stack, "these can go here, though that means these papers have to go here...."

He's still watching me when I pick up the top 'Meteor Shower' folder --I flip aimlessly through a few computer printouts (mostly things Doctor Hamilton has emailed to me, related to his own limited research), trying not to notice his unwavering gaze.

"I'm not the Mona Lisa, and you're not Leonardo Da Vinci --read, I'm not the most enigmatic chick in Italy, and you aren't trying to immortalize me in paint. You can remove your eyes from my face for three seconds. I swear I'll still look like this three hours from now," I say finally, deciding to abandon that folder for now.

"I would like to immortalize you in paint, Chloe. As Medusa," Lex whispers after a while. Just as I suspect, he's smirking.

"You certainly know how to make a girl feel warm and fuzzy, Luthor."

When I reach for another folder, Lex's hand shoots out to surround my wrist. "You certainly know how to intrigue a man, Chloe," he says.

I dart my eyes to his, but I don't move my arm. "Are we going to work, Lex, or are we just going to avoid the inevitable for a few more hours?"

"What's the inevitable?"

I lean toward him, wrap my free hand around his neck, and kiss him for more than a few seconds. Before I can pull away, he's returning the kiss, and it's starting to sizzle.

I know I should pull away and order him to get to work (he'll obey), but how many other times will I be sitting on the floor, kissing (it hasn't quite reached 'make out' proportions) Lex Luthor?

Hopefully, many, many more. Just, next time, I'll make him wait until after we finish working for the day.