Happy Birthday

Disclaimer: I own nothing, so don't sue. If you do, you'll get a handful of hairband cassettes, a pile of foppish singer-songwriter CDs, and a couple of MR photos.

Author's Note: This was inspired by a conversation at fanforum; just a quick, pointless ditty with a lame ending that won't spawn any sequels. Really, it won't. This is dedicated to whichever one of my really awesome Truth Seekers friends started the discussion (I'm sorry for not remembering who it was!)

Happy Birthday To You, Dear Chloe

******

'Happy Eighteenth Birthday, Chloe!' a sparkly gold and red banner screamed. Rolling her eyes in mock annoyance, the blonde reporter strolled inside the packed (and beautifully decorated) Luthor mansion, asking herself for the ninety thousandth time what possessed her to let Clark and Pete throw her a birthday bash. ("You only turn eighteen once!" the former had insisted. "We owe it to you, Clo," the latter had agreed, implying that they hadn't been as sweet as they could have been during the beginning of their high school days.)

"She's here!" one of the Torch staff members (one of few people in attendance that Chloe actually knew by name) shouted, bouncing over (red hair swishing) to hug the birthday girl.

"Chloooeeeee!" a bunch of people (Clark and Pete among them) yelled at once, bombarding her with hugs.

She sighed as she was tackled onto the Persian rugs, wondering for the ninety-thousand-first time where her sanity had gone in the four years she and Gabe Sullivan had resided in the Meteor Capital of the World.

"Jeez, let the poor girl, breathe!" a welcome voice broke in over the squeals of delight.

There, descending the plush, carpeted stairs, was Lex Luthor in all his tuxedo-clad glory. (It wasn't a formal party --as was evident from the jeans and barely-there dresses she noticed when she was allowed to stand-- but she assumed Lex wore a penguin suit to all his parties.)

Never in her life had Chloe been happier to hear Lex's voice. She and the billionaire had become good friends over the years, first at Clark's urging, then of their own accord; meteor theory-exchanging had been the cement of their odd friendship, then they'd simply begun to spend time talking about their respective lives in Metropolis, their hopes and dreams (as trite as that seemed, even Lex had big plans), and, of course, they snarked constantly. He was good company.

People were still crowded around her when she rose from the floor, and she fought to listen. "...love the outfit.." a friend of Lana's cooed. (Chloe wore a knee-length, strapless metallic dress with black hose, black heels, and a black jacket) "..so good to see you.." Clark insisted. "....we love you, Clo," from Pete. "I'm glad you let us do this," Lana whispered.

Her head was spinning from over-stimulation, so she carefully pushed through the throng, toward her benefactor, who handed her a glass of sparkling cider that was contained in a long-stemmed champagne flute. "My hero," Chloe said in a fake breathy voice, winking.

He smirked, and folded his hands in front of him. "I'd never forgive myself if I allowed the birthday girl to get crushed by a throng of insanely hyper high school seniors." A mock serious expression. "But tomorrow, if the throng tackles you again, you're on your own; I just would hate for your birthday to be ruined before it even began."

Grinning, Chloe cast her eyes around the ballroom. The deep red walls were adorned with silver and black streamers (her one request), white lillies were strewn about the floor (most crushed already), the buffet table (laden with hamburgers and other 'party food') was covered with a lace cloth, and several black candleholders (black pillars burning) were placed at various intervals. A table piled with colorfully wrapped gifts was near the staircase. "Actually, I'm thinking getting my brains smushed by my best friends and a zillion people that I barely recognize would be preferable to spending any more time at a party," she said wryly.

Lex, no longer smirking, took a step closer to her. "You don't like it?"

Her eyebrows raised, and she fixed him with a look of bemusement. "What's not to like? There's loud, bangy music blaring, junk food to eat, presents to open...I'm sure there's a cake somewhere...you're in a tux, acting like this evening matters to you...." Chloe trailed off, her eyes suddenly locked in his.

The billionaire sighed; it was a long, slow, almost content sigh. "It does matter to me, Chloe. I want your eighteenth birthday to be special, as do Pete and Clark. The other zillion and a half people--" he motioned to the crowded dancefloor; bodies were moving almost in unison, making the dancers look like a blob of human flesh-- "are probably just here for the food."

A snort. "Right." Her arms were folded across her chest, but he pried one of them free, linking it through his.

"Take a walk with me," Lex ordered more than asked, wielding whatever authority he had over the partiers as the pair weaved their way through the mass of sweaty bodies. "I didn't think Clark and Pete were the moshing type," he observed when they stepped through the double doors into the cool night air.

Chloe resisted the urge to snort again. They started toward the back of the establishment (which was a long way off) ducking under fruit trees periodically. "Put two teenage boys in a room with loud music, free food, and girls in two inches of fabric, and they'll do anything." Her words were dry and teasing, but he sensed a bit of melancholy.

Stopping underneath a flowering tree (and noticing the way the moonlight played off her eyes) Lex whispered sincerely, "for what it's worth, you are --always have been, always will be-- the most beautiful woman to ever grace a room." A hand brushed hair behind her ear, and her breath caught.

"You're just saying that," Chloe said with as much jest as she could muster, (*That smile, and those eyes, and those hands*) "because I'm the depressed birthday girl who can't handle getting older and, you, the billionaire who takes it open himself to cheer me up, don't want to have wasted a hundred bucks on a party."

They were walking again, admiring the sprawling landscape. "No, Chloe--" (it had taken a year for him to stop with the, 'Miss Sullivan') "--I said that because you're my friend who happens to have a birthday today, and I'm the guy who wants to make sure you enjoy yourself; regardless of how much I spent."

His companion said nothing, simply smiled softly at him before ranting about some worldy injustice or other. Lex listened attentatively, laughing whenever she made faces or gesticulated with her free hand. "You're something else," he remarked, chuckling still.

"I'm inclined to say the same about you; you're actually entertained by my rants, where Pete and Clark are just annoyed." There was no self-pity, only honesty. "I think I can face them now."

He stopped again, this time by a trellis; picking a rose from one of the twisting vines, he handed it to her. "Want your birthday present before we go in?" he asked in his usual, friendly tone of voice. Gone was the strange tender voice he'd been using earlier.

Brow furrowed in confusion, she slipped the stem of the flower behind her ear. "You have it out here?"

A smirk crossed his mouth as he nodded. "Yes, I'm carrying it with me. I assumed we'd end up taking this private walk, and I didn't want to give it to you in front of them."

"So it's not a new laptop?" Chloe asked, only half serious. She'd been praying he'd give her a new computer, since she needed one desperately. However, she had a sneaking suspicion her father was giving her one when they had their own family party the next day.

He frowned, shook his head (the moonlight illuminating his baldness). "Nope, I like to think it's better than that, but you may not."

Her hands (he'd let her arm go when they ceased their walking) flew to her hips and she cocked her head. "Well? What is it? With a build-up like that..."

"..it's only fair that I build up suspense sufficiently," Lex finished with a quick grin. He glanced over his shoulder, then faced her again when he saw they weren't standing in front of a window; it wasn't that he minded if anyone saw him give her the gift, he just didn't want her to get embarrassed. "Close your eyes," he ordered.

"Uh oh, he's going to--" Before she could finish the snarky comment, he rested a finger against her mouth and repeated the request firmly. "Okay, okay!" With a feigned sigh, Chloe obeyed. There was a pause, then his mouth brushed hers lightly. He backed away after less than three seconds (giving her a chance to slap him) but she only stood, frozen, in front of him.

Taking that as an 'okay', Lex gently took her face in his strong hands, kissing her again; this time, she responded. It was light and sweet at first, then her lips parted and the heat intensified between them. She shivered, and he wrapped his arms around her tightly, until there was no air between their bodies.

"Happy birthday, Chloe," he whispered when they pulled away, gasping for oxygen.

"Thanks. I guess you're right," she whispered back.

"About what?"

She smirked and slipped her arm through hers again. "That was a bit better than a new laptop."

"Too bad," Lex said with a smile as they headed back to the Manor.

"Why's that?" she returned curiously.

"I got you one of those, too."

FINIS

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