Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really. Nothing

Author's Note: There are no surprises; this is straight forward fluff, sap, and predictability. This has not been beta'd, so any mistakes are mine.

Dedicated to: Suzanne because she got wet!Lex in our heads.

******

There was no reason why Lex should have been nervous. "There's no reason why you should be nervous, Lex," Clark assured him, tying the groom's bow tie expertly (the groom being too worried to concentrate on such a basic task.) "What could possibly go wrong?" His blue eyes were laughing when they met Lex's.

Very few people (only Martha Kent and Chloe were aware) knew that Lex was an incredibly anxious, worrisome person; he'd simply learned to hide it well over the years. Thus, Clark's rhetorical question was the *wrong* rhetorical question to ask the billionaire on his wedding day!

"What could go wrong?" Lex repeated, with an edge to his usually stable voice, as he inspected his white tux in the floor length mirror standing by his bedroom door. (The ceremony itself was taking place in the backyard of Luthor Manor; Chloe hadn't wanted anything fancy.) "First, she could do the smart thing and decide she doesn't want to marry me; or, she could decide that she is madly in love with...with..." He wracked his frazzled brain, mentally going through her guest list for single men, "..Whitney Fordman. OR I could..."

He trailed off when Clark smacked him smartly in the middle of his forehead with the butt of his hand. "God, shut *up*, Lex," his best man ordered with a wry grin. "First of all, I think she's doing the smart thing by marrying you; you two need each other. Not only that, but you're great together, and you both know that. Secondly, she proposed to you, remember? I don't think she'll declare her undying love for Whitney who, until a few years ago, was barely an acquaintance of hers. Thirdly, you'll be *fine*!"

With a sigh, Lex sank onto the edge of his --soon to be *their* -- bed, and rested his head in his hands. "What if I hurt her, Clark?" he mumbled. "We all know what a temper I have! What if she and I argue, and I just lose it?" He swore under his breath, yanked his tie off with one hand, then marched out of the room. "I've got to stop this wedding."

******

"Chloe, if you don't stop moving..." Martha Kent threatened as firmly as she could. In one hand she held a tube of deep red lipstick. Pinched in the fingers of her other hand was a tissue already blotted with blurry red marks.

"Sorry, Martha," the bride said unconvincingly. She was perched on a bed in one of several guest rooms on the Manor's second floor, her long, slender legs bouncing to a rhythm only she knew. "I'm just.."

"Nervous?" Lois --the maid of honor, and Clark's girlfriend-- chimed in with a smirk. She stood by a gilt-framed mirror that was hung on the west wall of the rather large, bright room. "You've got nothing to worry about, honey; Lex worships you."

"Blot," Martha ordered, slipping a corner of the tissue between Chloe's lips.

The young woman obeyed only because she was going on autopilot; her nimble reporter's mind was in a whirlwind fabricating reasons why she should worry about the impending matrimonial ceremonies that were to commence about thirty minutes from then. "He could have agreed to marry me because he wants to use my skills as a reporter to blackmail his competitors--"

"Why would he have to marry you, then?" Martha wondered, brow furrowed when she turned her attention to Chloe's hands; her nails were short and ragged (Chloe was a biter), and they needed to be pampered and painted. "Stop shaking your hands, please."

Her hands were motionless, but her almost-hysterical rant continued, uninterrupted. "What if he's just marrying me because I'm young? I'm twenty-five! I could become his trophy wife!"

"You're too witty and intelligent to be a trophy wife," Lois spoke up helpfully.

Chloe's nails were carefully being filed and clipped into shape; each 'click' of the small nail trimmers made her more and more wound up. "I love him deeply, but...but..." Her argument was losing steam, and she knew it.

Luckily someone knocked on the door, giving the three women more imporatnt things about which to think. "Who is it?" Lois called, abandoning the mirror to investigate. Her short, sleek forest green gown rustles when she walked.

"It's Lex," a disembodied voice responded. "I need to talk to Chloe."

Martha and the woman in question shook their heads frantically at the bridesmaid. "Lex, you know you can't do that."

"Let me at least talk to her through the door!" he continued, sounding frantic and slightly annoyed. Chloe nodded silently to her friends, then motioned for them to leave the room. When they slid out, Lex tried feverently to peer inside the room (he just wanted one glance!) but Martha gave him a discouraging frown.

"What is it, Lex?" Chloe asked, after a beat, her own voice sounding faint and anxious.

"I can't do this," he said bluntly, regret in his tone now. When the women behind him gasped, he scowled in their direction.

A pause. "Oh. Well," Chloe replied evenly.

Licking his lips, Lex leaned his forehead against the door, his voice lowering to a whisper. "I can't hurt you."

"Ex*cuse* me?" was the incredulous question.

"I said--"

"I *heard* you, damnit!" Chloe snapped. "How the *hell* can you hurt me by marrying me?"

He pulled off his coat; it was stifling. As an afterthought (Martha picked the garment off the floor and draped it over her arm) he also unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt. "I'm afraid of what I might do to you without thinking. My temper, you know...."

Chloe softened, tears springing to her eyes, much to her humiliation. She'd never understood why women cried at their own weddings, until that very moment; what he said was the single most romantic thing she'd ever heard. He loved her enough to worry-- "Oh, Lex, I love you so much."

His eyes closed, and he sank against the floor-length piece of wood as though it was the only thing that could support him. "You're not angry?"

She chuckled. "No. I'm not worried, either. If you hurt me, even on accident, I can just beat the crap out of you. You *know* I can. Now, can I finish putting various parts of my body through various kinds of torture in order to make myself beautiful?"

On the other side of the door, Lex grinned. "You're torturing yourself for *me*? Now, that's devotion."

The door opened a crack (Lex nearly stumbled inside the room) and something shiny and off-white was shoved at him. When he observed it more closely, he discovered it was a pair of lacy underwear. "What do you want me to do with these?" Lex teased softly, sticking the garment in his shirt pocket and hoping the women (who were politely letting the couple sort things out) didn't see.

"Don't be smart. I've giving them to you as an incentive; the sooner you leave, the sooner you can discover if I did, in fact, bring another pair with me."

That was all he needed; after whispering he loved her back and grabbing his jacket from Martha, Lex bolted down the hall.

******

Lex paced back and forth in front of the wedding party, hands folded behind his back. "Lex," Gabe Sullivan said for the ninth time in less than ten minutes, "we're early; nothing is wrong." His words fell on deaf ears. When the billionaire passed him again, Gabe's hand shot out and grabbed Lex's shoulder. "Stop."

Not wanting to further annoy his father-in-law, and also too exhausted from extensive worrying to keep moving, Lex finally obeyed. He focused his attention on the flowers that were planted ten feet from where the proceedings were to occur; the gardeners had gone all out for the occasion, replacing the usual lillies with white and pink birds-of-paradise. In the ballroom (where the reception was being held) Lex recalled that there were white and yellow rose petals strewn on the floor, with red and white rose garlands winding around the ceiling, and several arrangements of sunflowers (Chloe's favorite) on the buffet tables.

"Alexander," a soft voice broke into his thoughts. Turning, Lex faced the judge (neither the Sullivans nor the Luthors had any sort of religious affilliation, so a priest was not an option) and squinted against the bright sun. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir. I'm more than ready." The groom surprised himself by sounding and feeling entirely calm.

"Very well." the judge (a friendly older man with a salt-and-pepper beard) signaled to someone, who bolted toward the manor's back entrance; she were presumably going to alert the bride.

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Lex envisioned her; he hadn't seen her dress (she refused to show him ahead of time) and he imagined it was traditional and gorgeous. In his mind, she was smiling secretly while gliding toward him, and he was returning the same smile. It was going to be fine.

The ushers (Pete Ross and Whitney Fordman) were busy escorting the rapidly arriving guests to seats on the oak benches Lex had rented. Martha (who had left Chloe in Lois's capable hands, upon the former's request) and Jonathan were seated in the front row. Clark's father gave Lex a little wave (the men had more-or-less buried the hatchet years before) and Clark's mother blew him a kiss, smiling.

Seeing familiar faces relaxed him further. Then the orchestra (which was situated on a hill overlooking the whole thing) began to play, and his pulse quickened.

******

She could do it. She could stumble around in three inch heels, clutching a handful of sunflowers, to stand by the man she loved and adored. (She refused to let Gabe walk her, as a way of screwing with tradition.) Really, she could. She wouldn't trip, forget what she was supposed to say, or otherwise make a fool of herself.

"Good luck, Clo, not that you need it." Lois kissed her cousin's cheek quickly, then grabbed her own tiny bouquet and led the nervous bride to the back of the house. The orchestra began the wedding march, and Lois --on Clark's arm-- began her walk.

There were no other bridesmaids (Chloe wanted as much simplicity as possible), which meant she was next. The crowd turned as one (Pete and Whitney --who had become a friend-- grinned from a bench) and gaped.<

Swallowing hard, and pasting a smile on her face, Chloe put one foot in front of the other. Lex came into view, and she stifled a gasp. Suddenly, she remembered why she was there, what she was doing, and her gait became springy. She was going to marry that man, and nothing could have made her happier.

******

Never in his life had he imagined Chloe could be as startlingly gorgeous as she was that day. The dress was long, white, and lacy, yet streamlined so it was snug in the right places; she wore no veil, making her dancing greenish eyes visible immediately; her blonde curls were loose in waves around her face, and she looked like royalty. (The mischievious, giddy gleam in her green eyes, however, made her seem less the perfect princess, and more the amazing woman he'd worshipped from afar for many years.)

He was aware he was grinning like an idiot, but he really couldn't have cared less. He was aware that the crowd was alternately smiling at him and watching Chloe, but he didn't see them; all he noticed was her.

The music slowed, then died completely when she reached his side. Her flowers were handed to Lois before Chloe slipped her right hand into Lex's left. He squeezed her fingers lightly, trembling inwardly; looking at her, seeing her return his grin, made him ache. He'd promised himself he wouldn't think about how much he didn't deserve her, but it was nearly impossible not to.

"Dearly beloved," the judge began in a deep, commanding voice. "We are gathered here today to celebrate..." He glanced down at the notes Lex and Chloe had jotted down for him, then shrugged when he addressed them again, "..the union of this cold, heartless businessman and this opinionated, fiery reporter who made him see that one can't get through life without snark, passion, and love." A pause, while the crowd chuckled.

From the back, Pete yelled, "you tell him, Clo," causing everyone to laugh and break into grins.

The judge chuckled as well, continued. His warm brown eyes met Chloe's as he said, "Chloe, do you take Alexander to be your lawfully wedded husband," another glance at his papers, "to have and to hold, until your sarcasm runs out, you quit the Daily Planet to become a professional cheerleader, hell freezes over, and Satan hits the both of you with a snowball?" Even he couldn't keep a straight face at the last part.

Chloe, facing Lex, grinned and said, "damn straight, I will."

The older man then turned to Lex. "And will you, Alexander--"

"Yes; I'll take her as my wife and partner until I decide to sell the plant and build myself a shack in the North Pole." He completely improvised that part, and Chloe loved him even more for that.

Once everyone laughed again, the judge gave them their wedding bands (engraved with the date on the inside, and the words, 'snark, passion, and love' on the outside) which they slipped on each other's fingesr without speaking. "Well," the older man boomed a moment later, "I guess that's it. With the power invested in me by the state of Kansas, I now pronounce you..."

Lex and Chloe beat him to it, kissing passionately to the sounds of cheers.

******

Gabe Sullivan (after wiping his streaming eyes with a monogrammed hankerchief --a Christmas present from Lex a few years before-- and giving his daughter and son-in-law hugs) stood next to the ballroom's state of the art entertainment system, microphone in hand. "Ladies and gentlemen." The guests (seated at two long tables by the buffet) chattered on. "*Ladies and gentlemen*," he tried again, with a little more force. The speakers hidden in the rafters hissed in protest.

Chloe, noting her father's difficulty, climbed atop the sturdy wooden table reserved for the wedding party --accidentally wrinkling the lace table cloth-- and yelped, "shut up!" Several dozen people froze, shooting her incredulous glances. The corners of her mouth quirking into a sincere smile, Misses Sullivan-Luthor nodded. "Thank you. My father is going to make a speech."

Shaking with laughter, Lex helped his wife off the table (even though she insisted he didn't have to.) They kissed sweetly. "Go ahead, Gabe," Lex called.

Mister Sullivan cleared his throat, tapped the mike. The speakers protested again, proving everything was definitely switched on. With a shrug (he didn't really want to know why the guests ignored him) he began again. "Ladies and gentlemen, before we hear speeches and eat, I believe the deliriously happy couple--" Chloe and Lex grinned "--are supposed to dance."

Before he could say anything more, the Sullivan-Luthors were on the black tile dancefloor (shoes off) and Chloe had wrestled the microphone from her reluctant father. "Thanks, Dad," she said, kissing his cheek quickly. "I'm afraid it'll be incredibly boring if you all just watch us dance and grin like dorks, and I'll feel more comfortable reminding my husband that my underwear is in his shirt pocket..." she paused, no reaction; all the guests were used to her odd sense of humor "..if you're all out here with us."

Lex, in turn, yanked the mike from his wife, who glowered. "I really don't have much to say, except that I had to get the last word." She smirked and playfully slapped his cheek. "Also, I wanted to thank you all for taking time out of your otherwise-dull lives to share this with us. I promised my beautiful, witty, intelligent, breath-taking wife that I wouldn't make a sappy speech about how I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with her, how she's made me happier than I ever thought I could be, and how I can't thank her enough for loving me so I could turn my life around." He glanced at her, then at everyone else. (The guests were smiling softly or, in the case of Chloe's female relatives and Martha Kent, crying silently.) "Hell with it, let's just dance!"

Gabe pressed the 'play' button on the stereo system, though it took him several minutes (and his daughter's help) to find it. An old eighties love song filled the room, and the Sullivan-Luthors rolled their eyes; Clark had been in charge of choosing music, and it was obvious. Only he would make the mistake of selecting a sappy ballad for the couple's dance.

"Dance with me," Lex whispered to his wife, ignoring the other couples who were already swaying, "Misses Sullivan-hyphen-Luthor." His eyes were soft.

"Of course. Just never call me that again," Chloe teased. She rested in his strong arms until the song ended. Their eyes opened slowly, the moment lingering with them, and he pressed his forehead to hers. "I love you," she said quietly.

"I love you, too. I swear on my mother's grave that if I ever hurt you in any way, even if I don't realize I do it, that you can leave me; no questions asked." His fingers tangled in her hair, he breathed her in.

"Lex...just shut up, all right?" She hugged him tightly (couples grooving to the next song), forgetting about everything but him. "I'm not wearing any underwear; thought you'd like to know," she continued in a grave tone.

Grinning, Lex patted his shirt pocket proudly. "Somehow I didn't think you were." Another kiss, this one affectionate and sensual. "Hey!" he exclaimed when they broke apart, remembering something. "Aren't our loved ones supposed to be showering us with sappy messages of prosperity, passion, and billions of beautiful children?" No effect. He repeated the question, in a voice that wasn't very loud, yet was incredibly commanding; when everyone froze for a second time that afternoon, they didn't have to wonder why he was such a successful businessman.

Chloe beamed proudly, led him back to the table. "That was good!" She was so busy looking at him with gleaming eyes, that she stumbled over one of her shoes, nearly crashing into a chair.

Lex, his arms already loosely around her waist, steadied her. "So was that; you haven't even had champagne yet, my dear."

The couple took their seats at the center of the table --noticing that crystal dishes and purple cloth napkins had been laid out by the efficient kitchen staff-- Lois, Gabe, Clark, Whitney, and Pete filled in spots around them. The other long table (which was directly parallel to theirs) was full as well. "Okay," Clark announced in his normal tone.

"Speak up, there!" Chloe interjected. "We can't hear you, Clark!"

The best man rolled his eyes at her overexuberance, raising his voice, nonetheless. "As the best man --best friend of both the bride & the groom-- I guess I'm going to make the first toast." (As he spoke, waiters in tuxedos bustled around, turning over the champagne flutes that lay face down on the plates; the flutes were filled halfway with bubbly liquid in record time.) "Um, yeah. I kind of grew up with Chloe, and everyone had it on good authority that I'd marry her one day. Then, she and I ended up going to different colleges, and by the time we ended up working at the *Daily Planet* together...I guess Lex sought her out, and they dated, and, well, I was shocked when I heard; frankly, and no offense to Lex, who I love like a brother, I was a little worried for her."

"I would have been, too," Lex observed nonchalantly, loud enough for the entire room to hear.

The best friends smirked at each other before Clark continued. (He had to finish before he completely lost people; they were waiting for him to get to the point.) "But, now that I've seen them together, I realize that not only do they love and adore each other more than should be humanly possible, they're perfect for each other as well. Here's to my favorite people in the galaxy; may you have a long, prosperous marriage, and may I live to see my grandchildren."

A surprised silence. Chloe, finally realizing that Clark was being funny in his Clark-like way, laughed and raised her glass. Others soon joined, and the slightly embarrassed, spectacled man lowered himself to a chair.

Lois (her forest green dress sticking to her slender body with sweat --she'd been dancing more than anyone, revealing her Metropolis-bred wild side) was next. She tapped her glass with her fork first, shooting a smirk at the giddy couple, who were more than willing to obey the command; they kissed affectionately until the maid of honor cleared her throat. "I'm not sure what to say; I'm not very good at this sort of thing. Chloe and I --as most of you probably know-- are first cousins, but we're also only children; I've seen her as my baby sister my entire life. I suppose my point is that I'm incredibly proud of, and happy for, her. Lex, of whom I had to approve before Uncle Gabe would let Clo marry him, is an insanely lucky man."

"Believe me," Chloe assured her cousin, "he knows that."

"I do," Lex agreed immediately, entwining his fingers around his wife's on the tablecloth.

The older woman sighed in mock exasperation. "Can I *finish*?"

"Certainly," the bride shot back, innocently batting her eyelashes. Her hand broke from Lex's, and she playfully massaged his neck. "I don't know what's been keeping you, Lo."

Laughter. "I guess I'll wrap up since Clo seems eager to bombard her husband with cake. A thousand congratulations, you two. You're probably going to rule the world one day." Glasses raised. Lois was about to drop back onto her own leather-padded chair, when something occurred to her. "Oh, Lex? Just remember that I can, and will, hunt you down if you do something to her that upsets me." She winked at the bewildered couple, finally resuming her seat.

The rest of the reception went by in a blur. Toasts were made, a three-tiered chocolate cake (with rich chocolate frosting) was consumed after much of it was hurtled back and forth across the room (the entire group got into the action, once Lex and Chloe threw the first bits of pastry at each other), forks were clinked against champagene flutes more times than anyone wanted to count...

It was near midnight when everyone except for Clark and Lois left. "Thanks so much for coming, guys," Chloe said honestly, hugging them both warmly. "It really meant a lot."

Clark kissed her cheek softly. "You're welcome, Clo; I wouldn't have missed this for the world. You really look beautiful, you know." His voice was wistful, but he seemed happy.

"Thank you, Clark," she whispered, hugging him again. A startled chuckle escaped her lips when she pulled back. "Are you *crying*?"

He wiped one shining blue eye with his index finger. "No." He then faced Lex (who had been standing behind Chloe, his hand resting on the small of her back) and they hugged quickly. The pair chatted seriously (she caught the words, 'thanks, incredible, amazingly happy, understand', surmising Clark was reassuring her husband that he was okay with how things turned out.)

"Clo," Lois said quietly, hugging her cousin again. "I'm so happy for you I could cry." She blinked rapidly, a sheepish smile spreading across her lips. "There you go. You look amazing and happy; I just...oh! Weddings always do this to me. Take care, okay?"

Chloe grinned, and the women exchanged cheek kisses. "I will, Lo; you, too. Thanks again."

Lex and Lois shook hands politely, then the latter accepted Clark's outstretched arm. "Bye!" Clark called. Finally, Lois yanked him toward the foyer, leaving Lex and Chloe alone in the ballroom.

His arms slid around her waist in a backwards hug, and he sighed against her neck; she shivered when he pressed soft kisses along her jaw. "I love you so much," he told her for what must have been the sixth time that day. (Not that she minded at all.) "I never told you how beautiful you are...I'm sorry, Clo," he added, sounding truly apologetic.

Deadpan, she shot back, "I'm not sure I can ever forgive you for that transgression, Lex." She felt him smirk against her neck. "I love you, Lex," Chloe said, smiling now. She twisted gently so she was facing him, kissing his mouth hungrily. "Come on, now, Mister Sullivan-Luthor. We've got some business in your bedroom, I believe. Something about a merger of two unstoppable forces?" Her brow furrowed, and she bit back a laugh.

He regarded her seriously, tucking stray curls behind her ears. "Mmm, yes, now that you mention it; that does sound right. We'd best get down to business, then, hadn't we?"

Though she was about to head for the staircase that led to the second floor, Lex had other ideas; with an evil grin, he bent down and picked her up. Kicking and screaming half-heartedly, Chloe finally gave in and allowed herself to be carried upstairs and dropped onto their bed.

FINIS