Chloe Sullivan and the Tri-Country Date
Jun. 5th, 2009 04:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seriousficTitle: Chloe Sullivan and the Tri-Country Date
Fandom: Smallville
Rating: G
Word Count: 681
Warning: This fic is not recommended for the diabetic. There is not an ounce of mitigating angst in sight.
Author’s notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
angel_gidget in a meme.
Characters/Pairings: Chloe/Bart
Summary: Bart takes Chloe on the best date ever.
“So where are we going tonight?” Chloe asked her boyfriend of seven months. Bart had matured wildly since joining the League, now going by a new callsign. Since he no longer did things on impulse (mostly), Chloe had noted how he did things in flashes, making him one of the more reliable members of the League. And as it turned out, boyish charm and a sense of duty that was all man appealed to Chloe. Appealed a lot.
“Not telling.”
“Do they speak a Romantic language there?”
“Chlizzle, with me, everywhere you go speaks romantic language.”
“But not all of us can learn Swahili in five minutes.”
“I know.” Bart squeezed her shoulders supportively. “And I forgive you for that. But I am totally willing to act as your translator, free of charge.”
“Thank God. Here I thought I’d have to bribe you with sex.”
“Well, I’m like a museum. There’s a suggested donation.”
“And kind of boring?”
“Oh, don’t pretend that you don’t love museums. You fantasize about having sex in museums.”
“I think I figured out where our date’s going to be.”
“Not tonight, Chloe.” He crouched down, arms spread obligingly, and Chloe fell into them. It wasn’t as spacious a ride as her VW, but it was admittedly more eco-friendly.
A few minutes later, they were in Paris. Chloe was glad she’d remembered her Dramamine. ‘Superspeed stomach’ did not an enchanting evening make.
“Gay Paree, huh? Cliché, but fun cliché.”
“First off, it’s only Gay Paree when I come here with Clark. Second, we’re here for fashion, not food.”
Taking her by the hand, he led her into a crazy fashion boutique. The staff greeted him by name and he replied in fluent French. In short order, they were in a dressing room with countless garment bags waiting. Bart opened one and in a flash was wearing a tuxedo.
“Aw, no dinner and a show?” Chloe pouted.
“Sorry, little strapped for time. Tell me which one you like best.”
Over the next five minutes, Bart must’ve tried on a hundred suits, until Chloe convinced him she loved one above all the rest. He gave it to the tailor to be customized.
“Getting invited to a formal soiree?” Chloe teased.
“I can dream, can’t I?” He winked at her.
The next minute, they were in Italy, the rich scents of a bakery filling their lungs. Bart exchanged rapid-fire Italian with the chef and Chloe thought finally, a language fast enough for Bart. In seconds, a cart full of plates, each bearing a slice of cake, was wheeled up.
“Let me guess, after this it’s off to Miami for some liposuction?”
“I’ll take half, you take half. C’mon, what’s the use of those finely-honed journalistic instincts if you can’t find the best-tasting cake?”
It took several minutes of envying Bart’s super-fast metabolism, but they finally agreed on the supreme cake. Bart picked her up again, earning a light slap with his faked groan of strain, and then they were in a jewelry store.
“Wow, Bart, when you offered me a pearl necklace, I thought you meant—“
“Chloe.” Bart took her hands. “All my life I’ve lived in the moment, acting on impulse. Being with you has taught me the value of maturity and responsibility and, heck, monogamy for that matter. So when I planned this out, I wanted it to be perfect, and who would know more about perfect than you?” In a blink he was on one knee in front of her, wearing the tuxedo she’d picked out. “Chloe Sullivan, I hope they have a ring you like in here, because I’d really like it if you were my wife. Marry me?”
“Well, gosh, let me think about YES!”
She threw her arms around a grinning-yet-disgruntled Bart. “You’ve been thinking about this. When’d you figure it out?”
“Italy.”
Bart mock-pouted. “I was hoping it would be a surprise.”
“Bart, this entire relationship ahs been one big, happy surprise. I just can’t wait to see what you do for the honeymoon!”
Over Chloe’s shoulder, Bart’s eyes went wide. Honeymoon!?
Fandom: Smallville
Rating: G
Word Count: 681
Warning: This fic is not recommended for the diabetic. There is not an ounce of mitigating angst in sight.
Author’s notes: Written for
angel_gidget in a meme.Characters/Pairings: Chloe/Bart
Summary: Bart takes Chloe on the best date ever.
“So where are we going tonight?” Chloe asked her boyfriend of seven months. Bart had matured wildly since joining the League, now going by a new callsign. Since he no longer did things on impulse (mostly), Chloe had noted how he did things in flashes, making him one of the more reliable members of the League. And as it turned out, boyish charm and a sense of duty that was all man appealed to Chloe. Appealed a lot.
“Not telling.”
“Do they speak a Romantic language there?”
“Chlizzle, with me, everywhere you go speaks romantic language.”
“But not all of us can learn Swahili in five minutes.”
“I know.” Bart squeezed her shoulders supportively. “And I forgive you for that. But I am totally willing to act as your translator, free of charge.”
“Thank God. Here I thought I’d have to bribe you with sex.”
“Well, I’m like a museum. There’s a suggested donation.”
“And kind of boring?”
“Oh, don’t pretend that you don’t love museums. You fantasize about having sex in museums.”
“I think I figured out where our date’s going to be.”
“Not tonight, Chloe.” He crouched down, arms spread obligingly, and Chloe fell into them. It wasn’t as spacious a ride as her VW, but it was admittedly more eco-friendly.
A few minutes later, they were in Paris. Chloe was glad she’d remembered her Dramamine. ‘Superspeed stomach’ did not an enchanting evening make.
“Gay Paree, huh? Cliché, but fun cliché.”
“First off, it’s only Gay Paree when I come here with Clark. Second, we’re here for fashion, not food.”
Taking her by the hand, he led her into a crazy fashion boutique. The staff greeted him by name and he replied in fluent French. In short order, they were in a dressing room with countless garment bags waiting. Bart opened one and in a flash was wearing a tuxedo.
“Aw, no dinner and a show?” Chloe pouted.
“Sorry, little strapped for time. Tell me which one you like best.”
Over the next five minutes, Bart must’ve tried on a hundred suits, until Chloe convinced him she loved one above all the rest. He gave it to the tailor to be customized.
“Getting invited to a formal soiree?” Chloe teased.
“I can dream, can’t I?” He winked at her.
The next minute, they were in Italy, the rich scents of a bakery filling their lungs. Bart exchanged rapid-fire Italian with the chef and Chloe thought finally, a language fast enough for Bart. In seconds, a cart full of plates, each bearing a slice of cake, was wheeled up.
“Let me guess, after this it’s off to Miami for some liposuction?”
“I’ll take half, you take half. C’mon, what’s the use of those finely-honed journalistic instincts if you can’t find the best-tasting cake?”
It took several minutes of envying Bart’s super-fast metabolism, but they finally agreed on the supreme cake. Bart picked her up again, earning a light slap with his faked groan of strain, and then they were in a jewelry store.
“Wow, Bart, when you offered me a pearl necklace, I thought you meant—“
“Chloe.” Bart took her hands. “All my life I’ve lived in the moment, acting on impulse. Being with you has taught me the value of maturity and responsibility and, heck, monogamy for that matter. So when I planned this out, I wanted it to be perfect, and who would know more about perfect than you?” In a blink he was on one knee in front of her, wearing the tuxedo she’d picked out. “Chloe Sullivan, I hope they have a ring you like in here, because I’d really like it if you were my wife. Marry me?”
“Well, gosh, let me think about YES!”
She threw her arms around a grinning-yet-disgruntled Bart. “You’ve been thinking about this. When’d you figure it out?”
“Italy.”
Bart mock-pouted. “I was hoping it would be a surprise.”
“Bart, this entire relationship ahs been one big, happy surprise. I just can’t wait to see what you do for the honeymoon!”
Over Chloe’s shoulder, Bart’s eyes went wide. Honeymoon!?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-06-05 10:15 pm (UTC)Chloe seems to be the chew toy far too often. Glad to see her happy.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-05 11:06 pm (UTC)This is so perfect. From the pet-names to the bantering to the zipping around to Chloe letting Bart have his moment despite totally anticipating him... I <3 this so very much.
Thank you! ^_^
no subject
Date: 2009-06-11 02:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-14 04:02 am (UTC)Very sweet story. Chloe and Bart are very cute.