Chlark Fanfic: On the Inside, Chapter 3

[babydee1]

I'm...too tired to make small talk.

Here's chapter three. G'nite (or morning...)

Zzzzzzz......



Give it up for the fabulous ellashy , who made this lovely banner! :-)

Title:              On The Inside

Author:          BabyDee
Pairing:          Chlark

Rating:           PG13

Warnings:     None
Timeline:      Post-Failsday through Season 9 eps (Saviour – Crossfire)

Disclaimer:   All characters belong to the CW & DC comics. 

Summary:     Chloe tries to start life anew in another city, but Clark thinks she left her heart in Metropolis. 

Feedback:      Me likey long time. J

Read previous chapter here.
Read story from the beginning here.

 

Chapter 3

 

 

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Chloe exhaled deeply and buried her face in her hands. 

 

Clark had come back into her life.  She’d changed her name, appearance and moved several hundred miles away, and he’d still tracked her down. 

 

Worse still, every latent feeling she’d managed to convince herself no longer existed within her had been dredged up again, and stronger than ever. 

 

Damn him.  She’d finally moved on, and now…

 

The elevator came to a halt and she quickly straightened and steeled her expression as she walked into the bullpen.  She smiled at her colleagues as she made her way to her desk, and they waved back and continued with their work. 

 

But one person wasn’t fooled.  “You okay, Blogett?” called McAllister from across the room. 

 

“I’m fine, Chief,” she replied, desperately trying to stop her trembling fingers. 

 

“So, this Clark Kent…ex-boyfriend?” 

 

“We never dated,” she said briskly, and sat down at her desk.  Desperately she hoped the mini-interrogation was over, because she’d done everything to keep her past out of her present.

 

Fortunately, her boss took the hint.  “You had a call from Bruce Wayne’s secretary while you were out,” McAllister said.  “They’re ready to schedule that interview, it seems.” 

 

“Oh, that’s brilliant news.  I’m on it.”  Quickly she grabbed her receiver and punched the numbers, doing her best to get on with the business of the day. 

 

***

 

Jay B McAllister regarded Sadie Blogett with a more than watchful eye. 

 

The young brunette sitting at her desk was more than an enigma.  She’d come to the Gazette seeking an internship in her final year of journalism, and she’d impressed them so much with her hard work and dedication that she’d been given a full-time staff job on completion of her degree.  All her documents and references had checked out, and she seemed to be the perfect employee with the perfect background. 

 

And that was the problem.  Sadie Blogett’s past seemed almost too perfectly orchestrated to be true.  Everyone over the age of eighteen (and several people under it) had skeletons of some sort.  Blogett had just managed to hide hers deeper than most, and cover her tracks very well. 

 

But Jacinta Belle McAllister wasn’t called The Bloodhound for nothing. 

 

Walking into her office, she shut the door and picked up her telephone, quickly dialling a number. 

 

Two rings later, it was answered by a sweetly schooled voice.  “Good afternoon, Daily Planet, this is Faye speaking.  How can I help?” 

 

“I’m calling regarding one of your reporters, a Clark Kent,” she began evenly.  “I’d like to know-”

 

“Oh – you’re in luck, he just walked in,” the voice on the other end of the line said pleasantly. 

 

McAllister’s heart thumped loudly.  “He’s there?” she said suspiciously.

 

“He’s crossing the bullpen right now, Ma’am.  Would you like me to put you through to him?”

 

“I’m having a meeting with him later today, but I’m not exactly sure what he looks like,” she said, thinking fast.  “Could you just describe him for me, tell me what he’s wearing so I’ll know what to expect…?”

 

“I certainly can,” the friendly receptionist responded.  “He’s tall - about 6’ 3”, dark hair, green eyes, and he’s wearing a light blue shirt with a maroon tie.  Shall I put you through now?” 

 

“That would be nice, thanks,” she replied quickly.  Just to be absolutely sure…

 

Five seconds later, a new but familiar voice came over the line.  “Clark Kent, Daily planet,” he said briskly.  “How can I help you?”

 

Same voice. 

 

“Well hello and hi there, sir!” Jay said, reverting to her southern roots and adopting a distinctly southern accent.  “This is Lucy LaFramboise at Copyworld.  I understand you’re in charge of copier supplies in your establishment?”

 

“Er…no, I’m a reporter actually,” he replied, sounding amused.

 

“Oh, fiddlesticks, I’ve been misinformed.  My most sincere apologies; y’all have a nice day now!” she said, and hung up the phone. 

 

Well…that was completely unexpected. She sat deep in thought, drumming her fingers on the desk as her brow furrowed in a deep frown. 

 

Jay B McAllister always said it was just a matter of time before anyone’s skeletons were unearthed.  And it looked like she’d uncovered a pretty big one in Sadie’s front yard.

 

How was it humanly possible that the young man who’d dropped Sadie off in the lobby only moments ago could have gotten back to Metropolis in under three minutes?  The most obvious answer, of course, was that he wasn’t human.  A stretch to be sure…but then, she lived in Gotham.  She’d seen, heard, and was privy to things that most people wouldn’t believe. 

 

She sat back and steepled her fingers as she figured out the best way to get to the bottom of all this.  But of one thing she was very sure.

 

Sadie Blogett wasn’t who she said she was.

 

***

 

Chloe Sullivan, aka Sadie Blogett, no longer considered riding the elevators up to her floor part of her morning joy. 

 

It had been a week since Clark’s surprise visit, and he had remained respectful of her wishes; he hadn’t come back to Gotham.  Nor had he called, written,  or communicated with her in any way.  It was safe to say he’d taken the hint and dropped off her radar for good, which was exactly what she wanted. 

 

Wasn’t it? 

 

Sighing, she stepped out of the elevator and walked in the direction of the bullpen when she was hailed by Sally the intern. 

 

“You have a visitor waiting in the lobby, Sadie,” she said with a cheeky smile.  “A hot one.  Where have you been hiding all these hunks, anyway?”

 

She frowned.  Her interview with Bruce Wayne wasn’t till Thursday; unless his PA had gotten her wires crossed…

 

Chloe strode into the lobby with a smile…and both face and feet froze when she spotted a familiar blonde head bent over a newspaper. 

 

Oh, no. 

 

As her footfall came to a sudden stop, he looked up and smiled. 

 

“Hello, Sadie!” he grinned. 

 

Somehow she managed to stop her knees from shaking.  “Oliver Queen,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.  “What brings you here?” 

 

“I have something I need to discuss with you.  Could we perhaps go somewhere private?” 

 

She controlled her fury with considerable effort and went to stand in front of him, her hands balled into fists.  “You can’t just walk into my place of work during office hours and demand my time like this!” she growled. 

 

He made a face.  “Oops.  Bad habits are hard to break,” he chuckled. 

 

She wasn’t amused.  “I really don’t think we have anything to say to each other -”

 

“I think we do,” he interrupted, his voice and his face turning serious.  “And I’m not leaving until I’ve said it.”

 

Her face heated in anger.  “Did Clark send you?  Because this is a new low, even for him.”

 

“Clark doesn’t know I’m here,” he replied.  “Now, can we go somewhere and talk, or do I have to call you by your real name to get results?”

 

She stared at him in shock.  “You wouldn’t dare!” she hissed.

 

He fixed her with a challenging gaze.  “Try me.”

 

“And it’s my old name, not my real name!”

 

“Semantics.”

 

She clenched her fists tightly, weighing the pros and cons of punching him in the face. 

 

“Oliver,” she said in a clipped voice, “this is where I work.  I have a reputation to protect.  I really don’t appreciate you coming here and disrupting my life like this!” 

 

“Just thirty minutes of your time, that’s all I ask,” he said. 

 

“I can’t -”

 

“Morning, Blogett!” she heard her Editor say breezily from behind her.  “Who you got this time?”

 

“Oh, God, no,” she groaned.  Turning, she fixed a smile on her face and greeted her boss.  “Morning, Chief.” 

 

McAllister thrust her hand towards Oliver.  “Pleasure to meet you, Mr…?”

 

“Queen.  Oliver Queen,” he said, flashing his charming smile as he shook her hand. 

 

“Of course, I thought I recognised you,” she said, beaming.  “You’re a friend of Sadie’s?”

 

“Friend and colleague,” he said, making her cringe in fear of discovery. 

 

“We were just wondering if there was a private room where we could talk,” Chloe cut in quickly before Oliver could say anything more incriminating. 

 

“Conference Room 7 is free; I’ve just wrapped up a meeting there and we had it booked for another hour,” McAllister replied with a grin.  “Help yourself.  Oliver?  A pleasure.”

 

“Thanks, Chief,” Chloe said, and quickly yanked Ollie in the direction of the conference rooms.  They got to CR7 and as soon as they were safely inside, she slammed the door shut and turned to face Oliver with her arms folded.

 

“Right.  You have ten minutes to say your piece, get out.”

 

“Your boss said we had an hour,” he said plaintively. 

 

She scowled.  “Don’t make me hurt you, Ollie.”

 

He relented.  “Okay.  Just…promise you’ll hear me out, and be objective.”

 

“I don’t owe you anything,” she shot back.  “Say what you want to, and leave.  I have things to do.” 

 

He nodded soberly.  “Fair enough.  Do you want to sit down?”

 

“No.” 

 

“Fine, I will.”  He perched on the edge of the table across from her, so that they were at about the same eye level. 

 

“For a long time, Clark…really hasn’t been himself,” Oliver began, but she raised a hand and stopped him. 

 

“Clark and I had this conversation last week,” she snapped.  “I’ve already given him my answer to that.  Goodbye, Oliver.”  She turned and opened the door. 

 

“If I know Clark, he probably didn’t give you the full facts,” Oliver said behind her.  “All I want to do is enlighten you with the truth, and then you can make your own mind up about where to go from there.” 

 

She tilted her head and frowned.  “The truth about what?” 

 

“About everything that’s happened since we got rid of Doomsday,” he said. 

 

She gave a short laugh.  “Oliver, I can tell you everything that happened since we got rid of Doomsday, because I was there,” she said.  “So were all of you, before you walked away.”

 

“Okay, the rest of us were dicks to leave you grieving on your own like that, and on behalf of the League, I apologise.  But Chloe…I mentioned earlier that Clark hasn’t really been himself.” 

 

“Yeah, that’s his excuse for a lot of things,” she said, unimpressed.  “What was it this time…redK, hypno-ho, shiny dark hair…?”

 

“Brainiac,” he said softly.  “It was the Brain InterActive Construct.” 

 

***

 

Chapter 4…