Cold Turkey

Rating: PG-13, for safety's sake

Couple(s): V/W(I know, I know..); C/L; C/C; Lex/Chloe

Disclaimer: Everything but the plot belongs to someone other than me

A/N: Call this a parody, just to be safe

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I really hate going to parties, especially the ones thrown by Lex Luthor. Don't get me wrong: Luthor Manor has enough rooms for me to explore if I get too bored; there's never a shortage of good food; Clark usually dances with me at least once; and I get to people-watch. All in all, I suppose I could think of worse ways to spend a Friday night-getting a manicure with Lana Lang springs to mind. Still, Lex irks me.

At the moment, I'm sitting in corner of the vast ballroom, waiting for something exciting to happen. I'm hoping another mutant will make an appearance soon, thus ending Lex's charming, intimate gathering. No luck yet, however, and I've already been sitting here for forty-five minutes. Sometimes being a reporter sucks; nothing ever happens when you want it to. The second you turn your back-POW!-someone has sucked all the body fat out of half the football team.

"Chloe." Great, just what I need: Lex and his latest rich, foreign conquest. She seems like all his others; tall, long-legged, breathy, and completely lacking any brain cells-except for the ones needed to backstab and sleep with powerful men, of course. "This is my good friend, Victoria Hardwick."

So we actually become friends with our mistresses now, Lex? The way they're touching eachother--his hands snug around her hips, hers on his chest, pressing against eachother--I could have sworn they were getting photographed for a Harlequinn cover. I know that's the way Clark and I stand when we're together. Good friends, indeed. "Hi." What am I supposed to say? 'Hello, I hope you enjoy your two days at the Manor, careful not to bump into his next broad on your way out?'

"Hello, darling. Lex has told me so much about you. Laura, is it?" M'kay, honey, fake smiles and firm handshakes might garner you the fickle attentions of Young Master Luthor, but they get you nowhere with me. I never trust people with firm handshakes; I always wonder what they're trying to cover up with their overzealous confidence.

(You aren't the only one who knows how to be pretentious.) "Chloe. Tell me, Veronica: Has Lex told you how I plan to take over the perfume industry? Tommy Hilfifer and I-we're close, if you know what I mean."

The bimbo actually looks impressed. I don't doubt she thinks I'm serious; women like her will believe anything as long as they think it'll help their careers. "Wow, I don't know Tommy at all. Maybe you could-" She scurries away, having spotted someone, apparently.

Lex decides to sit next to me, smirking, as always. "It's 'Hilfiger', Chloe."

(Hello to you, too.) "I know that. I was seeing if--Veronica, is it?--your latest conquest was paying attention. Evidently she wasn't."

Either he just chuckled, or he choked back a sneeze. "Don't take it personally."

"You sure know how to pick 'em, Luthor: Ditzy, attractive in that plasticky sort of way, and rich enough to keep you happy for a week." I glance around the room quickly before something catches my eye. "Don't look now-" (I'm not staring at what I think I'm staring at!)

He follows my gaze, of course. (why do people say 'don't look now', if they know everyone is going to look anyway?) "Is that-" He's craning his neck in a way that can't be comfortable, in order to see the couple by the door. "Whitney?"

Lana Lang's infamous jock boyfriend has his hand on the wall, leaning close to-Victoria! (Things are getting exciting now.) "That would be Whitney, yes. I wonder what Lana thinks of all this." (Where is she, anyway?)

Ah, chatting with the love of my life by the snack table. "If you touch him, Lana, I'll-" So I'm a little possesive of Clark; sue me. We've been best friends for years, and I like to think I have a say in what girls he dates--not that he dates in the first place; either he's been waiting for me to realize my undying passion for him, or he's madly in love with the most unattainable girl in Smallville. (I know the answer to that, I just like to-*dramatic sigh*-fool myself.)

(Now what do you find amusing, Lex?) "Why do you hate her so much?" he wonders innocently. I hate that question; I really, really, really hate that question. (Whoops, hyper thoughts. Too much coffee before coming over here.)

Facing him, I fix him with my most lethal glare. Unfortunately, it just makes him chuckle again. "I have a huge problem with her swooping in here and breaking my best friend's heart. If she would come to her senses and realize how fabulous Clark is, that might end my torment. Until then--" I spread my hands apart helplessly, keeping an eye on Whitney and Victoria. She's got her hand on his chest now, laughing flirtasiously at everything he says. Tonight, Whitney Fordman might just become a man. (Chloe! Bad girl.) "Do you think Victoria knows Whitney's only seventeen?"

I swear, if he doesn't stop laughing at me-"She doesn't care. Men are her weakness. Does he know he's only seventeen?" Lex's eyebrow raises.

To my delight, Lana notices that Whitney was flirting not-so-innocently with the British Witch. She storms over, hands on her hips. Clark--the poor, little puppy dog--gazes sadly after her. After a moment of heated discussion--it appears Victoria is saying something condescending to Miss Lang---Lana wanders back to Clark.

Lex and I watch the two couples in earnest for another twenty minutes, before Clark--gasp!--leans over and kisses Lana on the lips for more than three seconds!

"I knew you could do it, Clark," Lex mutters approvingly, causing me to elbow him in the ribs. "I've been working my butt off for the last two months trying to get him to do that!" (Gee, that makes it all better.)

Whitney obviously notices that his girl is getting lip-action from someone other than him. As the host and I watch, Wonder Jock leans Victoria against the wall, planting a long, dramatic kiss on her. So it's a revenge thing, after all--but who's getting revenge on whom? The mystery continues.

From the glare my best friend shoots Whitney--I swear I feel the knives dig into the latter's face--he wants to beat the living crud monkeys out of his arch enemy. Instead, he lets Lana kiss him again, though their PDA appears sincere. (Clark, do I have to spank you? Whoa, where'd that come from?)

"Doesn't it bother you that Victoria's making out with a barely-legal football star?" I wonder then, not taking my eyes from the action.

A shrug. "She's a big girl. Besides, it's not like I really care much about her." Why not just put a sign on your forehead that reads, 'Rich Pig'? (*mental slap*)

My best friend gazes deeply into the doe eyes of his heart's desire, though I'm not jealous, or anything. Her lips must be affected by the meteor rocks, since he can't seem to stop touching them with his own. "Time to intervene!" (I'm heading over there, I really am!) Before I get very far, Lex's hand shoots out and stops me.

"Look, Chloe: I know you've got some obsessive crush on him, but-" (Try to be tactful.) "-but I think you should just let them do this."

Coming from the self-professed Rich Pig- (Don't finish that thought.) "You're right," I hear myself mutter, my vision turning red as Lana winds her arms around Clark's neck. Grr. "If he's happy, I should be happy." (I so need to rip her eyeballs out.)

(Did he just pat my head?) "I'm proud of you. That took strength." (Grr...Lex's eyeballs are next.)

I squirm, making a face. "I'm two seconds from trying in vain to hurt you. Just thought you'd like to know." (Those eyes when he smiles-*sigh*. Gah! Will not think erotic thoughts about Lex Luthor! Damn that caffeine, damn Clark for making me so jealous, damn Lex's sexy smirk-)

I kissed Lex Luthor. Just like that, I leaned over and crushed my lips against his. It was--nice. (AGH! I kissed Lex Luthor and liked it! *sob* That's it, I'm getting off the coffee, cold turkey.) He smirks again. "Well, well, well--"

(Stop looking at me like that, or I'll do it again!) "Don't get all sappy on me, Lex. It was just a kiss." I manage to make a sarcastic remark, though not my best. I still have most of my sanity.

"You hate me, so I can only assume that was a kiss of jealousy." (Way to state the obvious. Lionel must be so proud of you.)

I can think of nothing to say, so I do it again. This time, he kisses me back. "What was that, then?" I ask sweetly, when we pull back, batting my eyelashes.

"She just led him upstairs," Lex announces nonchalantly, ignoring me.

I was so busy locking lips with a guy I supposedly hated that I missed watching the British Witch lure Wonder Jock to a bedroom!

At the snack table, Lana and Clark are slow-dancing, though a hard rock tune is blaring through the stereo.

I still want to kiss Lex.

One thing I always forget about parties at Luthor Manor: they always get weird.