There was something in the slump of Kara’s shoulders that made Chloe truly fear for the girl. She’d gone out to the barn and sat in the loft, taking up the middle of the lumpy old couch, and refused to move. Three days, and Kara had yet to move, or speak. As far as Chloe could tell, Kara had gone catatonic. Martha, Victor, AC, and Clark had all tried to reach her, but she refused to move.
“Kara,” Chloe said, setting a hot bowl of soup in front of Kara. She wasn’t worried that Kara would starve or become dehydrated like she would worry over anyone else, but eventually even a Kryptonian would need food and water.
Ignoring her, Kara stared straight through Chloe, as though she didn’t exist. A thin sheen of dust had developed over Kara’s eyes, where she hadn’t blinked them in days. Finding that extremely creepy, and feeling a sense of panic, Chloe pushed the bowl of soup aside and sat down in front of Kara.
“You stole my boyfriend once. Jimmy Olsen. I could hate you, but I don’t.”
Nothing.
“You saved my life once, so I guess that makes up for it. Try to remember the time that gunman shoved me over the edge of the Daily Planet building in Metropolis. You came swooping in when I was half-way down, and set me on my feet at Ollie’s place so no one would see you land on the street.
Nothing.
Looking around, Chloe searched for something sturdy. She saw an old baseball bat in the corner that was already split and unusable. Grabbing it, she came back and swung at Kara, hitting her hard enough to splinter the bat.
Nothing.
Sitting down before Kara again, Chloe sighed. “Answer me!”
Nothing.
“I know how to kill you. It’s a rock called Kryptonite. You remember those green stones we used to capture you and Clark? Wake up or I’ll put a chunk of it on Clark and watch him die.”
Kara blinked rapidly, clearing the dust off her eyes, and grabbed Chloe by the throat, lifting her off the floor.
“Hurt him and I’ll do a lot more than break your neck,” Kara said coolly. Chloe nodded, and Kara dropped her, moving over to the big loft window and looking out at the snow covered fields. It was 2:30 in the afternoon, but it looked like the sun had just risen. Heavy gray clouds spilled snow in small, fast flakes that piled upon one another, turning Smallville into a white wonderland. If it kept up, the entire town would become one massive, shapeless drift from anyone viewing it above.
Everything was quiet in a way that could only happen in a winter snow. There were many muted sounds that one could only hear when listening. With normal human hearing, Chloe could pick out the distant scream of delighted children playing in the yard at Nell Potter’s old house, their little voices carrying well on the cold air. On the road a truck with chains on its tires drove slowly and cautiously by. A cow mooed forlornly in its stall, and one of the horses pawed restlessly, undoubtedly longing to go outside for some fresh air.
“I would never hurt Clark ,” Chloe said. “I just said that to get you to answer me.”
“What is there for me to say?” Kara said. She wore nothing but a thin cotton tee-shirt best suited for summer, and a pair of jeans. No socks, no shoes. Chloe was cold just looking at her, since there was no artificial heat in the loft.
Kara looked away from the icy beauty of winter to Chloe.
“What will people think of Clark and me when they learn what we did?”
“Who will ever know?” Chloe asked. “This isn’t something I plan to write about, and Ollie would never utter a word. Nor would Martha, AC, or Victor. It’s our secret.”
“How would you feel if you were me?”
Chloe frowned. “I can’t answer that, though I imagine I’d be devastated. Have you gotten your memories back?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been sitting here trying to force myself to remember the past, but all I get are jumbled images that don’t mean anything. I see a world with a red sun. I know a man who looks a lot like Clark , his name is Jor-El, and a woman with long blond hair, named Lara.”
“Clark ’s parents.”
“They have a baby, Kal-El, that’s Clark . I remember holding him, loving him like he was my little brother. That’s all I remember…well…almost…”
“What do you mean?”
“Something’s wrong with me. I think it’s something chemical. I remember a conversation I once had with Lara about finding the perfect mate. She told me to be careful who I gave myself to, or I’d never be able to leave them behind. Not completely. They’d become a part of me once I fell in love with them.”
Chloe touched Kara’s arm, and found herself nearly lifted from the floor when Kara grabbed her in a hug. Nothing too tight, but it was unexpected.
“I fell in love with Kal-El, and now I think I’m bonded to him,” Kara said, crying. Chloe stroked her back, trying to comfort her but not knowing what to say. What could she say to a woman who’d unwittingly committed incest?
“I’m so sorry, Kara.”
“I don’t want to remember more,” Kara said, releasing Chloe minutes later. “I don’t want this to get worse. And what about Kal-El? It would tear him to pieces if he remembered his past and understood what it means for him to have been with me as a mate…to feel bonded to me.”
“Kara, we have to give Clark that choice. We can’t rob him of who he is. He’s a strong man. He could overcome this. So will you.”
But Kara didn’t look convinced. She wiped her eyes and floated to the window.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to get out. I’ll be careful, and I promise I’ll come back soon.”
“Kara—”
Kara was gone in the blink of an eye, a blue and white streak that disappeared into the pregnant clouds that had stationed themselves over Smallville with the intentions of birthing every ounce of moisture they carried. Giving one last look at the gray horizon, Chloe turned and went back into the house.
****
Kara broke through the clouds, drenched with water, and emerged to the glorious late afternoon yellow sun. Bathing in its light, Kara felt as though she’d feasted on a sumptuous meal. It rejuvenated her like nothing else could, and some of the weight of her depression lifted enough for her to sigh a small sigh of relief. Perhaps, with time, she could put her terrible mistakes behind her. Perhaps…
She thought of Kal-El, as she gazed directly at the sun. She thought of the pain he would suffer if Chloe and Ollie managed to find a way to restore their memories. While she was prepared to suffer, she wasn’t prepared to allow Kal-El to carry the burden of their transgressions. Chloe was right. Kal-El was strong, but knowing he’d been in love with, and made love to, his own cousin would be enough to destroy him. He’d never be the same again. He’d never forgive himself.
Lying back, allowing herself to rotate slowly in the air so that the sun struck every possible angle of her body, Kara considered what she would do to keep anyone from restoring Clark’s
memories.
memories.
****
Oliver Queen looked out over Metropolis. It was lovely, as beautiful as Star City
And thinking of gingerbread houses made him think of Chloe Sullivan. Why, he didn’t know, since Chloe wasn’t the gingerbread house kind of woman. At least he hadn’t imagined her to be. He saw her as a townhouse woman, a modern, sophisticate who shunned all things small-town and normal.
He knew enough about Martha Kent to know that she’d once been that kind of woman, but she’d found fulfillment with a small-town boy, and became the gingerbread, white picket fence type and had loved it. Seeing Chloe in Clark ’s arms, kissing him in a way he doubted she’d ever want kiss him, made him realize that townhouse women could move into gingerbread houses and be just fine with it.
He’d been so sure that Chloe was over Clark . Now he knew he’d been deluding himself.
Turning away from the window, since the last of the watery light of day had faded and the city glittered with artificial lights, thereby losing its seasonal appeal and becoming just another city, Oliver went back to the computer, seeing a message alert bleeping on the screen. He opened it and found five simple words. I’ve found them. Downstairs. Now. There were other messages, four of them from Chloe asking him to call her at the farm, but he ignored those in favor of grabbing his jacket and striding toward the elevator. It opened before he could get to it, and Chloe Sullivan stood inside.
“Was that message about finding them from you?” he asked, feeling hot anger pool in his gut—hot anger and an unexpected wave of sexual desire for the petite little blond glaring at him from the inside of the elevator.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I came to see you since you’re determined to ignore my messages.”
“You’re the last person I want to see right now.”
Chloe glanced down, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “I say you’re lying about that.”
“I have business to tend to,” he said, reaching for the button to the lobby. He’d have to close his jacket and hope for the best, but Chloe pushed his hand away from the controls. It was like being touched by fingers of flame for all the effect it had on him.
“I don’t love Clark . I’m over him.”
“Yeah, right.”
“The kiss meant nothing.”
“I haven’t seen that sort of face eating since the last time I watched Silence of the Lambs.”
He reached for the elevator controls, but Chloe insinuated herself between him and the buttons, and pulled open his jacket. Her lips sought his, but he was a lot taller than her and easily avoided her.
“No,” he growled, but he was now as hard as steel, and what was worse, Chloe knew it. Her small hand came to rest on the shaft of his dick, which strained at his jeans, and began stroking. He wanted to push her hand away, but he couldn’t manage anything more than to fall against the wall of the elevator, allow his head to loll back, and moan.
“What was that?”
He was trying to talk. “I said stop.”
She did.
He glared.
“What…”
“You told me to stop,” Chloe said. “I’m not a rapist. No means no. Stop means stop. I respect your right to say no.”
“Shut the fuck up, cocktease,” he growled, and grabbed Chloe, pulling him against the aching length of his cock, where she laughed infuriatingly. That is, until he smothered her lips with his and assaulted her mouth with his tongue. She put up a damn good defense, one that was better than what he’d seen her giving Clark three nights before.
He heard a zipper, felt some relief as his dick sprang eagerly free from the restraint of his jeans, and then felt a soft, warm hand take hold of him.
“I’m sorry,” Chloe said, “but I needed some closure with Clark . That’s what you saw. The end of me pining away for Clark .”
“Uh-huh,” Oliver said, but he would have agreed even if she’d been telling him she liked to dunk live nuns in hot wax for laughs if it meant she just wouldn’t stop touching him.
Chloe took her hand off him, but Oliver wasn’t ready to stop just yet. He turned her to face the elevator wall, unzipped her jeans and then shoved a hand into her jeans, seeking the soft, wet flesh there and hot, tight little nub of her clit, which he expertly massaged. She was reduced to a whimpering mess on wobbly knees in no time.
"Coming to see me with no panties on, you dirty girl," Ollie whispered in her ear.
“I’m sorry, Ollie,” she managed weakly. “I’m really s-s-sorry, oh God…”
“I forgive you,” he said, whispering in her hear and breathing in the scent of the soap she’d bathed in that morning. He sought her out with the head of his cock and slipped easily into her.
A/N: Oliver's line about the Silence of the Lambs is
an homage to Sophia, played by the late Estelle Getty,
from the season seven episode of the Golden Girls
A Midsummer Night's Dream (part 2).
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