amourous

Reccing Note: I asked paraxdisepink to change one detail about the SV universe when she wrote this. So is it Chloe that's different, is it Braniac? You decide.

1303 words, PG-13, post prey
by paraxdisepink at her livejournal.

“And are you sure someone didn’t put something in that?”


They got the call to help another unit carry a 400 pound patient out of a bathroom in a club a couple miles away. Drug overdose. Respiratory distress. ETA six minutes – just inside the eight minute 911 response time.

The scene was typical for a Friday night in a big city. Loud hip hop music, drunk guys watching drunk girls on the dance floor who probably wouldn’t dance that way sober, and of course the dozens of people on other stuff one step away from a trip to the ER themselves. They all stared when he and his partner came in. People always did. Medical emergies were fascinating no matter how out of it you were.

The two of them helped the other crew get the patient out of the stall and onto the floor, but since it wasn’t their call Davis and his partner had nothing to do but stand around until the guy was stabilized and ready for transport. Melanie – the new one – wasn’t too keen on hanging out in the men’s room so Davis followed her out into the hall away from the crowd. She didn’t look like much, five feet tall and in desperate need of a trip to McDonalds, but she could lift as well as anyone and it turned out she’d graduated from Smallville High the same year as Chloe and her friends. So far tonight he’d learned that Chloe had been editor of a paper, the prom queen, and that before Jimmy she’d never had a boyfriend.

The world was a messed up place.

“Well if it isn’t tall, dark, and save-the-day!” a familiar voice called above the music.

Davis turned. A tall woman pushed her way over to him – Lois – her top so tight and low-cut a decent guy didn’t know where to look. He forgot her the second he saw she wasn’t alone. Chloe emerged from behind her, one of those oversized margaritas in hand. Her face was flushed, and he doubted that drink was her first tonight. That surprised him. He’d figured Lois for the club type, but Chloe? And where the hell was Jimmy? In the few weeks Davis had known Chloe he had never seen the two of them together.

She was beaming at him, not the sort of response you usually got from someone who said they didn’t want to see you for a while, but Lois went on before Chloe could say anything. “So, how ‘bout it, Rescue 911? Anything you can tell us about the guy in there? Has this happened in here before? Has the club owner been looking the other way? Will there be an investigation? Give me something that can get me on the front page.”

Davis shook his head. “I don’t think your average addict is newsworthy, sorry.”

“The average addict doesn't weigh four hundred pounds.”

She had a point, but Chloe pushed her out of the way, shoving her drink into Lois’ hand before Davis could answer. “Come on, cousin. There’s more important things at the moment than your pipe dream of becoming a front page reporter.”

Lois made a face. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Davis!”

He blinked. All of a sudden he was important? What happened to helping him didn’t mean anything? “I thought you said . . .” She said they shouldn’t see each other. This didn’t count, of course; he was working, but . . . His thoughts trailed off when she came closer

She didn’t just walk either. She swayed, a little too deliberately for a drunk person. “Come dance with me!” she grabbed his hand, pulling him toward her.

He didn’t move. Britney Spears’ “Break the Ice” wasn’t exactly his type of tune, and he didn’t dance anyway. But he would have, with her. He couldn’t though, not with her half out of her mind like this. “I’m working, Chloe,” he told her, pulling his hand away. The warmth of her fingertips made the separation physical painful.

She tilted her head and put on a hurt expression, clasping her hands behind her back and twisting, “Please . . .” she looked up at him through her lashes.

Davis drew a breath. This wasn’t Chloe. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He looked over at Lois and the oversized margarita in her hand. “And are you sure someone didn’t put something in that?” Ecstasy, Ketamine – either could lead to amorous or aggressive behavior. In that case he’d have to bring her in to Met General. The thought of taking caring of her, even for just a few minutes . . . He swallowed hard.

Chloe laughed, a very bubbly silvery laugh. “I’m fine . . .” Her hands settled on his shoulders and she stretched up on her tip-toes, angling her head just so and leaning very very close. “And if my heart gives out, you can always give me a little mouth-to-mouth.”

If she went into actual cardiac arrest he would leave the CPR to his partner and run and get the paddles, he was going to say. But she pressed her mouth to his and the thought shattered entirely. He tasted salt and lime and incredible heat. His head spun. He could feel her pulse, not racing dangerously but throbbing. For him. The room became suddenly stifling and he got this image of hauling her into a dark corner of the club and . . .

Davis pulled back before she could really kiss him. It wouldn’t count anyway and he wouldn’t take advantage of her like this, with no clue as to what the hell she was doing. She settled for wrapping both arms around him instead, giggling, “Davis” into his shoulder and pressing herself against him like she never meant to let go.

His uniform jacket was thick, but not thick enough. He was painfully aware of every inch of her, more aware than anyone but Jimmy had a right to be. The soft places, the heat, the smell of her under the liquor and tartness of lime . . . He squeezed his eyes shut. His hand came up to her back.

“Dude, are you guys gonna help or what?”

Davis jumped. Guy in the bathroom. Work. Help get him to the hospital.

Right.

He lifted Chloe up and handed her over to Lois. “Just get her some water, okay? Call for help if anything worse happens.”

Lois snickered, not overly concerned with Chloe’s behavior. “Speaking of water . . . looks like someone needs a cold shower.”

Okay. He wasn’t touching that one. He didn’t have time anyway. Davis left Chloe in her cousin’s hold, staring after him with a dazed smile on her face. It was like ripping off skin walking away from her. He still felt the imprint of her, this calling like the two of them belonged fused together. His head threatened to explode if he didn’t give into it.

Melanie, who had been looking on the entire time, took the opportunity to speak up.

“Twenty bucks she’ll claim not to remember a thing tomorrow.”

He looked at her. Was this another of those only a woman can know another woman things, or was this something particular to Chloe?

“Because she’s engaged?”

That surprised her. She hadn’t noticed the ring. Or maybe Chloe wasn’t wearing the ring tonight. Davis hadn’t checked. “Engaged? You mean she got over Clark Kent? She was a lovesick puppy for him all through school.”

That bit of info hit him like a kick to the stomach, but it added up. Once, she had said when he asked about her feelings for him. Chloe and Clark were definitely tight. He felt like choking him, though he never thought of himself as the violent type. The guy didn’t trust him, and apparently his first impression had been right. Clark Kent was likely his real rival for Chloe’s affection.


Drop the love, and/or take a guess.^-^