[personal profile] ardensregina
Title: The One Thing Chloe Could Never Get Used To
Fandom: Smallville
Characters: Chloe, Clark.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: 8x10 Bride
Word Count: 473
Summary: If you thought that if Chloe could deal with the whole "my best friends an alien" thing, she'd be fine with the smaller details that go along with it, you thought wrong.
Author's Note: Oh, the things that happen in my brain when I'm supposed to be studying for finals. This is basically total crack. And it's unbeta'd.

“I am not eating that.”

Chloe Sullivan looked down at the plate of perfectly fine looking scrambled eggs in disgust. “No way. I’m not eating that.”

“Chloe.” Clark Kent’s voice sounded exasperated and Chloe had no doubt that he was, “Just eat it.”

“No. I can’t. You cooked it with your eyes.”

Maybe we should back up. After saving her from the clutches of the part lab experiment gone horribly wrong, part son of Zod, part genuine nice guy in the Fortress of Solitude and having cleansed her brain of all traces of the Brain Interactive Construct and having restored all of her memories, Clark had brought Chloe back to his house to stay the night; he didn’t think she could handle going home to an empty apartment after the ordeal she’d been through and her brand new husband still in critical condition in Star City. And being the great guy and especially great friend that he was, Clark thought it would be nice to make Chloe breakfast. So he had.

He didn’t think she would react this way. Partly because he knew of her weird abhorrence to things he cooked using his heat vision and so had gone out of his way to actually use the stove (which was becoming a less and less common occurrence now that he lived alone, incidentally), figuring she’d take his word for it.

Apparently not. “Chloe,” he sighed, “I didn’t, though. I used the stove.” And, really, what was so horrible about using his heat vision to cook food? It couldn’t be any weirder than, say, the idea of an alternate dimension designed solely for the incarceration of intergalactic criminals deemed too horrible for the death penalty.

But apparently, to Chloe, it was. “Liar,” she said.

“Come on! I did!”

“No.” Chloe shook her head vehemently. “You’re just saying that because you want me to believe you and you know it won’t taste any different so I won’t be able to tell.”

Clark threw up his hands. “Yes! Exactly! It wouldn’t taste any differently even if I had. But I didn’t. So eat.”

Chloe just looked at the plate, not moving.

“You were possessed by Brianiac. You were kidnapped by a monster from your own wedding. You haven’t eaten anything in almost a week. So have the eggs.”

“You cooked them with your eyes!”

“But I didn—”

“No. You did. You’re lying. There’s a reason I don’t eat anything you cook unless I watch you cook it.

Clark looked at her for a minute in disbelief. “So, will you eat if I make you an entirely new breakfast?”


Clark started gathering the ingredients for scrambled eggs together as he muttered something under his breath about wastefulness and starving children in Africa. Chloe just sat at the table, watching him with a grin on her face, knowing she’d won.
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