by kitten/nonky at defying mythos
1860 words, nc-17(for lois's potty mouth), plastique/alternate universe
Lois had only found out when they were leaving that she was the third wheel on the bicycle built for two people fucking.
The little house in the outskirts of a farm town seemed quiet. Everything was clean, if not perfectly tidy. It wasn't ideal. It wasn't without flaws, but it was a real home. Lois knew it well, and knew the otherness of her Uncle Gabe's house was completely unnatural.
Well, Chloe didn't used to bang guys in the house in high school, the brunette thought acidly. The incipient porn vibes are bound to make any place strange.
Lois approached with caution, sure her cousin and the hot paramedic - who was not her cousin's boyfriend but followed her everywhere – were fucking in her Uncle Gabe's kitchen. Uncle Gabe was not at home, having received a work trip only hours before the weekend Chloe, Lois, Davis and Clark were supposed to visit. It was a sign, surely. A sign Lois would have heeded had she known before they were three quarters of the way to their destination.
It started out a family trip, the two cousins going back to Smallville to visit Chloe's father. The blond mentioned it to Davis, who found himself suddenly at loose ends that same weekend, and dying to meet 'the man who raised the legendary Chloe Sullivan.' He had done everything but make a sign asking to be invited.
Including Clark had been Chloe's idea, so as to further prove the notion that Davis was just a friend like Clark was – though their mutual stalking and eyesex would forever exhibit them as bad liars. Clark had decided at the last minute not to lose his weekend at work, and given his apologies to Chloe over the phone. Lois had only found out when they were leaving that she was the third wheel on the bicycle built for two people fucking.
From the way Davis' eyes scorched Chloe's skirt off when she bent to put her suitcase in the trunk, they did it hard enough to for protective gear to be advisable. Little cousin could claim chastity all she wanted, but Davis Bloome opened her car door, untangled her seat belt for her, and sang on the drive. He turned in his seat, gazed at her blond head, and serenaded her sweetly to every song that came on for a full hour. He actually sang quite well, but that wasn't the point. Chloe giggled at him, and turned pink in the face, but she also didn't stop him. Lois felt like she was going to have to dive under the car to avoid being part of the action.
They pulled up to an empty driveway, and Lois was peacefully informed it was just the three of them, as if it wasn't the bell tolling doom for her cool, relaxed weekend. She was going to have to watch every moment for the signals that preceded bouts of denial-fueled lovey-dovey crap. She would have to figure out whether Chloe was giving her the 'privacy, please' glance or the 'save me from his over-eager gonads' glance. At least there was a grace period after arrival, in which it would just look pathetically needy for Davis to feel up the tiny blond he doted upon.
He was doing a pretty good job hiding his erection as he moved luggage and accepted caressing help out of his jacket. Lois decided they were safe for the moment.
She immediately asked for the car keys and went on a liquor store run that took at least three hours. She had visited every old haunt in Smallville, and bought a variety of fudge flavours she was considering sharing if the visit wasn't too awkward.
She had been delighted to realize Smallville Video still had her on file, and rented four slasher movies. Chloe could try canoodling to those, but she wasn't the fawning, eye-covering chick. Usually, she would lean over and mention something like how a chainsaw could never start up that easily after being submerged in water, or how flares just did not give off enough light to illuminate an underground cathedral buried by mudslides. Lois was armed with everything she knew to make the awkward moments smoother, so she had no choice but to go back to the house.
There were indeterminate noises coming from the kitchen, and then a sharp shattering of glass.
“OH!” Chloe's voice, sounding choked and pained. “Davis, it's in my eye!”
“Damn it,” he replied, sounding contrite and a little dazed. “I'm sorry. Here, just get to the sink.”
Lois shook her head and clutched her booze and horror movies. Trust Chloe to find a nice guy and still get hurt. Davis was even a paramedic, so he should know better. He'd seen horrific childbirth up close and personal, and the ugly effects of STDs. Lois had given him the benefit of the doubt, knowing he and Chloe had to be safe because anything else would just be stupid. Apparently, Davis was going to need those death threats after all. She put her weekend survival kit down gently.
“Jeez, Dimples,” she said loudly, kicking the kitchen door open. “If a lady gives you the personal touch, the least you can do is aim.”
She fixed her eyes on the details, trying to ignore any nudity and gross fluids. Everything was dripping with an intense, briny smell. He had her baby cousin bent over the sink, but they were both clothed. If anything, it looked like Chloe and Davis were re-enacting 9 ½ Weeks, or perhaps making sandwiches.
“Lois, don't pick on him,” her infirm relative pleaded from her upside down look under the kitchen faucet. “I asked Davis to open the pickle jar.”
There was a metal cover on the floor, the green colour signifying its contents. It wasn't the worst cover-up Lois had ever witnessed. It did need some polish to be believable, though.
“I'll just bet you did! Who could blame you, but you have to have standards here, Chloe! It really doesn't matter how he blinds you – the point is – Blind!”
Bits of bottle crunched underfoot as Lois barged in to get a better idea of Chloe's wounds. She wasn't bleeding anywhere. She was even still in her bra. Davis held her in a loose embrace, his hands sturdy and gentle.
“I'm so sorry, Chloe,” he was saying, stroking her hair as water dribbled across her eyes. “I'm pretty sure there's no glass in there, but we should go to the hospital to check.”
“I'm fine, I'm fine,” the patient said, directing the first to her cousin and then repeating it more sexfully for her personal paramedic. “Davis, you don't have to be sorry, it was an accident. The pickle juice was just full of vinegar, but I'm okay now.”
She stood up slowly, and he picked her up to perch on the counter. Pressing himself between her knees, Davis held Chloe's face. His thumbs ran unconsciously along her cheekbones and he was breathing soothing words across her mouth as she let him study her sore eyes. If Lois was measuring generously, she might agree there was an inch of space between Davis' pouty lips reciting incantations of atonement and Chloe's soothing smile.
“Whoa, boy! You've got some medical intensity there, Davis, I'll give you that. Chloe, on a scale of that time with the cherry bomb to that time with the back window at the rave club, how bad is it?”
Down around Davis' trim waist, Chloe's knees pressed protectively closer to his sides. She rubbed his shoulder and barely made the pretext of noticing anyone but Davis existed.
“It's not stinging anymore, nothing hurts. My eyes are just freaked out,” Chloe said sincerely. “Really, Davis, I'm okay. I'm okay, Lois, and none of this is his fault.”
And she stroked his head like a puppy, making his whole body shift toward her hand in needy charm. Lois sighed at the identical blissfully helpless expressions on her cousin and her cousin's boyfriend.
“It's so gross in here,” she muttered to herself. “DIMPLES!”
He barely flicked his eyes away from Chloe's green ones, and went back into her loving gaze without prompting. If not for the height of the counter, Davis might actually be in Chloe. Lois clapped her hands to get his attention.
“You're not one of those uber-Catholics who won't use condoms and birth control, are you? You don't think Xs on a calendar keep babies away?”
“Lois,” Chloe yelped. She cupped the back of his neck as if he were a baby woodland creature instead of a potential big bad wolf. “That's a really personal question.”
The impersonal questions don't get the important information, Lois tried to eye-beam to her. I'm vetting his penis for landing for you!
Turning slowly, so Chloe's hands didn't fall off his shoulders, Davis faced her proudly. “I use both, because it's a good idea and if you care about someone enough to have sex you should show that by taking care of that person. I'm clean. I get tested regularly because sometimes I get called to pretty messy scenes. Blood gets on you eventually; it just happens in my line of work. Never married, no kids, GED, two-year paramedicine program, decent grades but I've never claimed to be a genius. I used to run with a gang, when I was living on the street, but that was years ago. I was arrested once, for grafitti. I don't smoke, drink or do drugs. I don't date more than one woman at a time. I work a lot, I try to keep my savings for a rainy day. I am interested in marriage and kids, eventually. Anything else?”
Over his shoulder, Chloe's smug grin was topped with a little dance of her upper body. Lois scowled and leaned in to intimidate him. “How's your driving record,” she challenged. “Do you pay your taxes on time?”
“Clear, and my insurance is up to date. I never speed, and I always signal,” he supplied calmly. “I pay my taxes on time every year.”
Stalky Davis must have done his homework to impress Uncle Gabe, she thought cynically. Well, I'll keep my eye on him anyway.
“Good. Now, move out of the way,” Lois said sternly. She nudged his body from the snuggly hold on Chloe.
“She's not wearing shoes and there's glass all over-”
Bracing, Lois took her cousin's arms and draped her in a fireman's carry. It was tricky for a second, then the blond settled down.
“Lois!”
“Clean up the kitchen, Dimples. I'll take care of our girl, here,” she ordered.
He stood back and watched in wonder as the taller young woman displayed an unusual amount of strength. Chloe waved meekly as she was carried off. He shook his head slowly, awed by Chloe's cousin, in the truest sense. Lois frightened and amazed him, and he was going to have to hide his emerging powers a lot better to fool her. The next time Chloe couldn't open a jar, she was going to have to work it out herself.
At the very least, Davis didn't want to dodge leading questions about being an alien invader for the rest of his life.
1860 words, nc-17(for lois's potty mouth), plastique/alternate universe
Lois had only found out when they were leaving that she was the third wheel on the bicycle built for two people fucking.
The little house in the outskirts of a farm town seemed quiet. Everything was clean, if not perfectly tidy. It wasn't ideal. It wasn't without flaws, but it was a real home. Lois knew it well, and knew the otherness of her Uncle Gabe's house was completely unnatural.
Well, Chloe didn't used to bang guys in the house in high school, the brunette thought acidly. The incipient porn vibes are bound to make any place strange.
Lois approached with caution, sure her cousin and the hot paramedic - who was not her cousin's boyfriend but followed her everywhere – were fucking in her Uncle Gabe's kitchen. Uncle Gabe was not at home, having received a work trip only hours before the weekend Chloe, Lois, Davis and Clark were supposed to visit. It was a sign, surely. A sign Lois would have heeded had she known before they were three quarters of the way to their destination.
It started out a family trip, the two cousins going back to Smallville to visit Chloe's father. The blond mentioned it to Davis, who found himself suddenly at loose ends that same weekend, and dying to meet 'the man who raised the legendary Chloe Sullivan.' He had done everything but make a sign asking to be invited.
Including Clark had been Chloe's idea, so as to further prove the notion that Davis was just a friend like Clark was – though their mutual stalking and eyesex would forever exhibit them as bad liars. Clark had decided at the last minute not to lose his weekend at work, and given his apologies to Chloe over the phone. Lois had only found out when they were leaving that she was the third wheel on the bicycle built for two people fucking.
From the way Davis' eyes scorched Chloe's skirt off when she bent to put her suitcase in the trunk, they did it hard enough to for protective gear to be advisable. Little cousin could claim chastity all she wanted, but Davis Bloome opened her car door, untangled her seat belt for her, and sang on the drive. He turned in his seat, gazed at her blond head, and serenaded her sweetly to every song that came on for a full hour. He actually sang quite well, but that wasn't the point. Chloe giggled at him, and turned pink in the face, but she also didn't stop him. Lois felt like she was going to have to dive under the car to avoid being part of the action.
They pulled up to an empty driveway, and Lois was peacefully informed it was just the three of them, as if it wasn't the bell tolling doom for her cool, relaxed weekend. She was going to have to watch every moment for the signals that preceded bouts of denial-fueled lovey-dovey crap. She would have to figure out whether Chloe was giving her the 'privacy, please' glance or the 'save me from his over-eager gonads' glance. At least there was a grace period after arrival, in which it would just look pathetically needy for Davis to feel up the tiny blond he doted upon.
He was doing a pretty good job hiding his erection as he moved luggage and accepted caressing help out of his jacket. Lois decided they were safe for the moment.
She immediately asked for the car keys and went on a liquor store run that took at least three hours. She had visited every old haunt in Smallville, and bought a variety of fudge flavours she was considering sharing if the visit wasn't too awkward.
She had been delighted to realize Smallville Video still had her on file, and rented four slasher movies. Chloe could try canoodling to those, but she wasn't the fawning, eye-covering chick. Usually, she would lean over and mention something like how a chainsaw could never start up that easily after being submerged in water, or how flares just did not give off enough light to illuminate an underground cathedral buried by mudslides. Lois was armed with everything she knew to make the awkward moments smoother, so she had no choice but to go back to the house.
There were indeterminate noises coming from the kitchen, and then a sharp shattering of glass.
“OH!” Chloe's voice, sounding choked and pained. “Davis, it's in my eye!”
“Damn it,” he replied, sounding contrite and a little dazed. “I'm sorry. Here, just get to the sink.”
Lois shook her head and clutched her booze and horror movies. Trust Chloe to find a nice guy and still get hurt. Davis was even a paramedic, so he should know better. He'd seen horrific childbirth up close and personal, and the ugly effects of STDs. Lois had given him the benefit of the doubt, knowing he and Chloe had to be safe because anything else would just be stupid. Apparently, Davis was going to need those death threats after all. She put her weekend survival kit down gently.
“Jeez, Dimples,” she said loudly, kicking the kitchen door open. “If a lady gives you the personal touch, the least you can do is aim.”
She fixed her eyes on the details, trying to ignore any nudity and gross fluids. Everything was dripping with an intense, briny smell. He had her baby cousin bent over the sink, but they were both clothed. If anything, it looked like Chloe and Davis were re-enacting 9 ½ Weeks, or perhaps making sandwiches.
“Lois, don't pick on him,” her infirm relative pleaded from her upside down look under the kitchen faucet. “I asked Davis to open the pickle jar.”
There was a metal cover on the floor, the green colour signifying its contents. It wasn't the worst cover-up Lois had ever witnessed. It did need some polish to be believable, though.
“I'll just bet you did! Who could blame you, but you have to have standards here, Chloe! It really doesn't matter how he blinds you – the point is – Blind!”
Bits of bottle crunched underfoot as Lois barged in to get a better idea of Chloe's wounds. She wasn't bleeding anywhere. She was even still in her bra. Davis held her in a loose embrace, his hands sturdy and gentle.
“I'm so sorry, Chloe,” he was saying, stroking her hair as water dribbled across her eyes. “I'm pretty sure there's no glass in there, but we should go to the hospital to check.”
“I'm fine, I'm fine,” the patient said, directing the first to her cousin and then repeating it more sexfully for her personal paramedic. “Davis, you don't have to be sorry, it was an accident. The pickle juice was just full of vinegar, but I'm okay now.”
She stood up slowly, and he picked her up to perch on the counter. Pressing himself between her knees, Davis held Chloe's face. His thumbs ran unconsciously along her cheekbones and he was breathing soothing words across her mouth as she let him study her sore eyes. If Lois was measuring generously, she might agree there was an inch of space between Davis' pouty lips reciting incantations of atonement and Chloe's soothing smile.
“Whoa, boy! You've got some medical intensity there, Davis, I'll give you that. Chloe, on a scale of that time with the cherry bomb to that time with the back window at the rave club, how bad is it?”
Down around Davis' trim waist, Chloe's knees pressed protectively closer to his sides. She rubbed his shoulder and barely made the pretext of noticing anyone but Davis existed.
“It's not stinging anymore, nothing hurts. My eyes are just freaked out,” Chloe said sincerely. “Really, Davis, I'm okay. I'm okay, Lois, and none of this is his fault.”
And she stroked his head like a puppy, making his whole body shift toward her hand in needy charm. Lois sighed at the identical blissfully helpless expressions on her cousin and her cousin's boyfriend.
“It's so gross in here,” she muttered to herself. “DIMPLES!”
He barely flicked his eyes away from Chloe's green ones, and went back into her loving gaze without prompting. If not for the height of the counter, Davis might actually be in Chloe. Lois clapped her hands to get his attention.
“You're not one of those uber-Catholics who won't use condoms and birth control, are you? You don't think Xs on a calendar keep babies away?”
“Lois,” Chloe yelped. She cupped the back of his neck as if he were a baby woodland creature instead of a potential big bad wolf. “That's a really personal question.”
The impersonal questions don't get the important information, Lois tried to eye-beam to her. I'm vetting his penis for landing for you!
Turning slowly, so Chloe's hands didn't fall off his shoulders, Davis faced her proudly. “I use both, because it's a good idea and if you care about someone enough to have sex you should show that by taking care of that person. I'm clean. I get tested regularly because sometimes I get called to pretty messy scenes. Blood gets on you eventually; it just happens in my line of work. Never married, no kids, GED, two-year paramedicine program, decent grades but I've never claimed to be a genius. I used to run with a gang, when I was living on the street, but that was years ago. I was arrested once, for grafitti. I don't smoke, drink or do drugs. I don't date more than one woman at a time. I work a lot, I try to keep my savings for a rainy day. I am interested in marriage and kids, eventually. Anything else?”
Over his shoulder, Chloe's smug grin was topped with a little dance of her upper body. Lois scowled and leaned in to intimidate him. “How's your driving record,” she challenged. “Do you pay your taxes on time?”
“Clear, and my insurance is up to date. I never speed, and I always signal,” he supplied calmly. “I pay my taxes on time every year.”
Stalky Davis must have done his homework to impress Uncle Gabe, she thought cynically. Well, I'll keep my eye on him anyway.
“Good. Now, move out of the way,” Lois said sternly. She nudged his body from the snuggly hold on Chloe.
“She's not wearing shoes and there's glass all over-”
Bracing, Lois took her cousin's arms and draped her in a fireman's carry. It was tricky for a second, then the blond settled down.
“Lois!”
“Clean up the kitchen, Dimples. I'll take care of our girl, here,” she ordered.
He stood back and watched in wonder as the taller young woman displayed an unusual amount of strength. Chloe waved meekly as she was carried off. He shook his head slowly, awed by Chloe's cousin, in the truest sense. Lois frightened and amazed him, and he was going to have to hide his emerging powers a lot better to fool her. The next time Chloe couldn't open a jar, she was going to have to work it out herself.
At the very least, Davis didn't want to dodge leading questions about being an alien invader for the rest of his life.
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