All Chloe-centric and all fun!
Most of my entries are Chlean and one Chlark--
“Cat,” Chloe said, arranging the papers on her desk for the end of the work day. “Dates are a maybe in a blue moon kind of thing and blind dates are just leper colonies, okay?”
Cat Grant, the Daily Planet’s new society columnist, wouldn’t have it. Having taken Chloe under her wing when the young Sullivan had returned to the bullpen, Cat had slowly and surely reintroduced Chloe to life after so much sadness, disappointment and death.
“You’ll like him, he’s a great guy!” Cat protested. Her heavily make-up’d face gave her a look halfway between supermodel and Vegas madame.
Chloe pointed out the obvious, “Really? And with you still searching for Mister Tall Dark and Fabulous, why do I get the great guy cast offs?”
Rolling her eyes, Cat put her arms on Chloe’s shoulders and shook her a little, “This is not a proposal, it’s drinks with the option of dinner and the slight hope of getting laid. This is all the world can offer in such uncertain times,” she beamed.
With a sigh Chloe slumped and said, “Fine, fine, whatever.”
Clapping excitedly, Cat scribbled off his phone number and handed it to her young friend. “He’s in town for work, like I said, so you don’t have a lot of time. Call him!”
Chloe snatched the paper and with a grumpy and cross look on her face, glanced down to the paper. “Winchester? Cat, come on! I don’t do preppy yuppie assholes!”
“He’s not, I swear!”
“Dean Winchester? God,” she said, grabbing her handbag and tossing it over her shoulder, digging out her phone. With a grumble she said, “This has light beer written all over it.”
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simplytoopretty hosted drabble tag and we just finished.
Most of these are Chlark and Chloom with an Oliver/Tess and Davis/Tess thrown in for spice.
**PS: if you think one of these should be expanded to a full length story, I'll think about it!
“Lady Macbeth’s got nothing on you,” Tess said, circling Davis like a cat. He’d looked up from the bathroom mirror to see her icy blue eyes boring into him, chilling his soul. The porcelain sink was flecked with red and his hands were raw from his furious scrubbing.
“How did you—”
“LuthorCorp still owns this building. I heard a few curious reports from the night manager and it was easy enough to figure everything out once I got hold of the security tape before Ms. Sullivan had the chance to erase it. I have to say, she’s good,” the vowels stretch and linger on the air in a dirty innuendo. “From what I could tell, she’s tamed you. She’s got that . . . loving feeling. But, oh dear, where is she and what will she say when she sees what you’ve done?”
He closes his eyes, her words twisting sharply like a knife inside.
“I have a proposition. You may feel inclined to accept. I’ll keep this break in your diet a secret if you do one thing for me.”
He remains silent, tension roiling through him.
“I need you to kill Clark Kent.” With a humorless arch of her brow she amends, “Well, try your hardest at least.”
“I have a counteroffer,” he whispers, his voice rough. “I’ll keep my own secret,” He turned to her, his eyes as blood red as the mess on his hands. “and you try not to scream.”
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bold and underline is the drabble title
italics is the prompt
The Maiden Voyage
“You’re floating,” Chloe breathlessly says.
Clark hovered a few inches off the ground. “I guess it’s the first step? Like crawling?”
“Your version of baby steps,” she muses. “Very cool, very awesome and . . . admittedly, very weird.”
“Glad to know I’m not the only one freaked out here,” he smiles, drifting down back to Earth.
“Nope, definitely freaked. And amazed.”
“I’m thinking, eventually I can fly?” They both walked side by side back to the house.
She smiles up to him, happy he shared this with her. “I’m thinking, I’m glad I was here for the maiden voyage.”
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