Couple(s): Lex/Chloe

Rating: PG-13 for thematic elements

Disclaimer: Everything but the plot belongs to someone other than me. The song lyrics are from 'I Alone' by Live. The title comes, yet again, from a Smiths song.

Spoilers for: nothing

Feedback: If you're nice, yes! Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to burn rough drafts of my as-yet-untitled novel.

Author's Note: Sorry the last one was so short! I'm hoping to make this chapter a bit longer, though I'm not making promises. :-) There are times when I just need to end a section, regardless of length.

Pretty Girls Make Graves

******

Guy berated himself all the way home from the post office. "That was a completely idiotic thing to do," he told himself angrily, spitting at his reflection in the rearview mirror. "Whatever happened to smooth, subtle Guy? That was *a little bloody much, Guy!*"

The rain was coming down in torrents, so he blindly pulled his run-down sedan into the nearest parking lot. Turning off the engine, he listened to the sharp sounds. Each drop of water that hit his windshield felt like another nail driving into his skull. He just wanted a reprieve from the ache.

******

"That's awfully poetic," Lex managed to choke out while he perused the note that had come with the white rose.

"It's part of a song, Lex," his wife told him flatly, tapping the single flower against the table so rapidly that it was a large, white blur.

'I alone love you

I alone tempt you

I alone love you,

Fear is not the end of this...

Only love can save us now'

"What sort of sick freak would do something like this?" Martha spoke up, flipping through a stack of black and white photos with morbid curiosity.

"I've never seen those before in my life," Lex added, pointing a shaking hand to the pictures. Every last one was of Chloe: Chloe laughing, Chloe hugging her children, Chloe kissing Lex, Chloe engrossed in her work...Chloe undressing. There had to be a dozen, at the very least.

John and Lena had been set out of the room when the adults had discovered what was in the envelope. They were obliviously watching TV in the second-floor rec room.

"Whoever this person is, he knows you very, very well." Lex was too numb to say anything other than the obvious; someone had apparently been following his family--his WIFE!--and taking photos; stealing their privates moments. His skin crawled with revulsion.

"I'm going to go see what the kids are doing," Chloe told them almost inaudibly. Before she could leave the room, Lex reached out and embraced her. "Not now," she muttered sharply, shoving him away.

Lex banged his forehead against the table until his vision started to blur. Martha, still shocked herself, clasped one of his shaking hands in hers. "He watched her *undress*, for crying out loud! What's he going to do next? Install cameras in our bedroom?" Now he wasn't numb; he was hysterical.

Getting him to stand, Martha hugged him tightly. "My beloved Chloe," he kept repeating over and over, much like a pitiful child. "My beloved wife completely *exploited* by some pervert! Is nothing sacred anymore? If he does anything like this again, he'll have hell to pay." Lex's entire tall, lanky body was shaking from anger.

"What more do they want from my family and me? Haven't we been through enough?"

There was nothing Martha could say to calm him; she was as enraged as he. A woman she loved like a daughter had been turned into an object by someone that wouldn't make himself known. "That bastard," she heard herself mutter.

Lex's rant stopped as he stared down at her. Never, in all the years they'd been acquainted and, later, good friends, had he heard her swear. "I'll torture him slowly. Very, very slowly. Little cuts on the back of his wrists every five minutes, until he loses too much blood to survive; that's when I'll chop him into little pieces. The best idea I've ever had."

She had never known him to be the violent type; he was more into threats and blackmail. However, she certainly didn't blame him for wanting to physically harm the man who was, quite obviously, dangerously obsessed with Chloe.

"Can I help you, Lex?" Martha whispered without thinking. "There are a few things I'd love to do to him myself. Never underestimate the pain that can be caused by a welding torch."

******

Tick, tick, tick. Chloe allowed the sounds of his watch to calm her while they read in bed, later that evening. Every few pages he would glance over at her, sometimes open his mouth like there was something her wanted to tell her. She tried to ignore him, but he was beginning to get irritating.

"Need to say something?" Despite her best efforts to remain casual, some anger crept into her tone.

"I'm sorry," Lex whispered, his mesmerizing icy eyes full of remorse.

"Why the hell are you sorry?" she returned evenly, not looking away from the book she was holding; she'd given up actually paying attention to it a long time ago.

"You *know* why; he bloody watched you constantly. I don't even want to know how he took a few of those pictures. I'll do whatever I can to find him."

She slapped his hand away from her face. "I can fight my own battles, Lex. Don't patronize me; you have no...reason..to..be...sorry. Okay? This is nothing; it'll pass."

Nodding, he turned his eyes back to the page upon which he was attempting to focus. The words swam in front of his eyes, so he banged the cover shut and tossed it on the floor. "I don't see how you can be so calm about this; I'm not."

"This isn't about you, Lex." The scorn in her voice rendered him speechless. "God, you can be so self-centered sometimes; not everything is a personal attack against you."

Her words stung, but he knew she was simply taking her anger out on him. "You don't mean that," he whispered hoarsely.

"Yeah, I think I do! You can't get away with telling me what I do or don't mean; I do have a brain, I can make my own decisions. All you've ever done is treat me like an underling. I thought you'd changed; you told me you did. I'm beginning to wonder why I even married you in the first place!" She clenched her fists to keep from yelling at him; it wouldn't do to awaken Martha--who was staying for a few days--or the kids.

What she said wasn't true; they both knew it. However, he couldn't help being saddened by her statement. "I'm sorry you feel that way," he whispered through fast, trembling breaths. "For what it's worth, I love you."

"Save it," she shot back, shifting away from his touch. "Maybe everyone was right about you all along."

The proverbial knife twisted farther into his heart. He was gasping for breath, stunned. *My God, she's serious!* She had a penchant for overreacting on occasion, but Lex could identify those moments easily. "Then why don't you leave me?" he finally asked, bracing himself for her response.

"Maybe I should."

******

Sunday brunch was thick with tension. Chloe had given Lex a look when they'd taken their seats at the table, but he hadn't a clue what she was trying to convey. Usually, when they fought, the person who started it would apologize the next day. The only problem that morning was that Lex couldn't decide where the blame lay.

His thoughts kept revolving around one sentence: 'Maybe I should.' She wanted to leave him; as much as he feverently believed she was simply reacting to stress, he instinctively felt that she meant it.

*Bless you, Martha* Having picked up on the older Luthors' discomfort, Clark's mother took it upon herself to take care of John and Lena. She had woken them, made breakfast, and spent several hours playing with them in the rec room.

"Are you no longer talking to me?" Lex wondered calmly. They were alone in the living room; he was pretending to read on the couch, she was standing in front of him, staring out the floor-length window.

No reply from his wife.

"You realize, don't you, that you'll never get through this if you don't let me take care of you." Oh, was *that* the wrong thing to say! He unconsciously slid down the couch when she whirled around, her eyes flashing.

"Were you not listening to me last night? Of course you weren't; you were only thinking about yourself. I don't need you to take care of me, I don't need you to fight for me, I plain don't need you." Her chest was heaving; she was about to rant again.

"Why are you with me, then?" It killed him to ask.

Without another word, she stalked out of the room. Two minutes later the front door slammed. His nerves were on fire while he waited for the inevitable.

Sure enough, her car started.

He didn't start shaking until he heard tires squealing against the wet road.

******

*She left me* The more he told himself that, the less he accepted it.

"Are you sure she wasn't just going to blow off steam?" Martha's heart went out to him; he was pale and on the verge of crying. Luckily the kids had fallen asleep while watching TV; she had no idea how to explain what had happened. She could only pray that Chloe would return.

"No; when she gets tense, she writes. She really let me have it last night, said that she didn't know why she'd married me. Today was the last straw apparently. I need a drink." He dragged his body off the couch and to his office.

Not sure what else to do, Martha followed him. He'd stopped drinking hard liquor once they married--he still drank wine with dinner, but he no longer got drunk. It surprised her that he still had alcohol in the house.

She leaned against the wood-paneled wall, watching while he poured himself a shot of what looked like brandy. Gulping that down, he unbuttoned the top of his crisp blue dress shirt. He set down the glass and picked up a pool cue.

After breaking cleanly, he spoke. "You know," he lined up a shot, "I never did think she really loved me. Sure, she said she did, but maybe it was all a lie." He emphasized the last word by hitting two balls into the corner pocket.

"I don't think so," Martha rekarked.

Glancing at her from his position, crouched over the table, Lex smirked. "Please. This is *me* we're talking about; maybe if she'd married Clark," another 'crunch' as his stick connected with a striped ball, "she'd be serious. No, Clark wouldn't have been as stupid as I was. Hell, if she weren't a Luthor, none of this would have happened." With a grunt, he cleared the red velvet table.

He was back at the bar in a second, downed a few more shots. "I don't blame her." His voice was already slurred.

"Put the bottle down, Lex," Martha ordered, marching across the room and yanking the decanter from his fist. "Think about Lena and John."

Lex laughed in her face, his breath heavy with alcohol, and reached for the half-empty bottle again. In a moment of panic, Martha let it crash to the floor. "'course I thought about 'em. I thought about how *selfish* she was bein' by leavin' them alone!"

Martha slapped him.

******

There was no where else she could go. Martha was at the house, Clark and Lois lived too far away, Pete and Lana were out of town, her father would have had a cow if he heard about the incident; she didn't want to go into the package and, subsequently, the fight in which she and Lex were embroiled.

That was how she found herself pulling up in front of Guy's house. The rain was still coming down, and she was drenched by the time she reached the porch. *Be here, please!* she begged as she pounded on the door.

"Just a second!" he called. Footsteps, then he was smiling quizzically. "Chloe, hi! What's wrong?"

"Guy, can I--come in for a while? Lex and I had a huge fight and I didn't know where to go..." His arm was around her shoulders, and he led her through the cheerfully decorated home. Once he sat her on a plaid loveseat, he ran off to grab a blanket.

"Want to talk about it?" He perched next to her, held her hand.

She stared into his calming green eyes that were set off by his green t-shirt. He was openly concerned. "I don't know," she sighed, wiping her damp cheeks.

"If you do, go ahead; I don't mind. I have a minor in psychology, anyway." Guy smiled warmly.

The edges of her lips curved into a smirk. "I appreciate the offer. Lex was just being the world's biggest pig."

"Did he hurt you?"

The question sparked something on her face. It looked to him like...fear. "No, no."

"Are you sure?" Guy's voice lowered as he brushed hair out of her eyes tenderly.

"Yes, Guy." Biting her lip, she froze; his mouth was resting against her neck.

"Chloe, I love you."

******

Blinking rapidly, Lex gaped at his friend, sobering up quickly. His cheek was burning. "Why did you *do* that?"

Martha raised her eyebrows, not even thinking about saying she was sorry. "Because you were bad-mouthing her. I understand you're angry, but that's no reason to get drunk; no reason to trash your wife! As much as I adore you, Lex, if I ever catch you drinking again, I'll be forced to get nasty."

His shot glass slipped out of his hand and shattered. "I understand....thank you."

She nodded once, led him from the office. "You're welcome. If you're fully sober, you should go check on your kids; they've picked up on some of the stress."

He swallowed, no longer shaking. "Right. Don't go yet?"

Smiling, Martha patted his cheek. "I have every intention of staying until she comes back."

"May as well move in, then," he muttered before ascending the stairs.

******

"Guy, don't!" Chloe whispered when he brought his mouth to hers. "Stop!"

"You need me; not Lex. I'll make you happy," he assured her.

"STOP!"

He fumbled with the buttons of her shirt.