Title: Three Seconds
Category: Smallville/Transformers Movie
Genre: Humor/Romance
Pairing: Chloe/Will Lennox
Rating: PG
Prompt: #002 – "Not a chance!"
Word Count: 642
Summary: It's been a long day and this so isn't what she wanted to come home to… He has a way of making it up to her though.

Three Seconds
1/1

She has the last piece of pizza in her sights; having gotten home late for work, Will and the guys had taken up residence in her living room, watching some football game while they chowed down on whatever wasn't nailed to the floor. After a long, exhausting day, she wanted to kick them all out, wrap her arms around her boyfriend, and just sleep. And she would, just as soon as she snagged that double pepperoni, extra cheese slice of heaven a few feet away. Being that this was their time away from Iraq and war in general, she'd given them some leeway, but so help her, if she came home to another night of cheering men, beer and leftover take-out, she might just lose it.

She loved her boyfriend; he was the kind of down-to-earth, smart, sarcastic, proud and heroic man she'd always looked for and needed in her life. Having met him when she'd somehow appeared in the middle of the dessert after a run-in with Clark and a Kandorian showdown, they'd created a tentative but interesting friendship. Letters were exchanged, video calls were made, and before she knew it she had a soldier for a boyfriend. Well, a Major really, as he was the captain of his squad. And if that didn't top the cake, he was then thrown into some less than normal circumstances when alien robots came searching the Earth for technology lost to them thousands of years prior. As if her life was ever normal.

Except today, it was. There were six or seven loud men making a mess in her living room and Will was so consumed with the game he didn't even know she was home yet. Two years and she should be used to this; she was, in some ways. With all the time he spent away, she really, truly cherished the time they did have. Which was why the guys had to go; seriously.

Figuring she'd give them until the end of the game – it couldn't be that much longer anyway – she dropped her bag on the counter and reached for the last piece of pizza to tide her over. Her stomach grumbled with appreciation. Just before her fingers touched it, however, Epps was lifting that last triangular slice of euphoria toward his mouth. Snapping, she lunged across the counter and yanked it out of his fingers. "Not a chance!" she shouted.

Suddenly, all was quiet.

"Chloe! Hey!" Will jumped up from the couch. "I, uh, wasn't expecting you home for like, another hour…" He looked around, wincing. "I was gonna clean this up, I swear."

Her eyes narrowed. "I put up with Superbowl… I even stayed quiet when that hockey tournament was on… I didn't complain when Cal stained by new couch or when Epps left a cigar in my plant… But I swear, Will… You are sleeping on the couch until your next tour if they're not out of here."

They stared at her blankly, shocked into not moving.

Hands on her hips, she warned one last time, "I'm gonna count to three."

Eyes wide, Will started waving them to the door manically.

And just like that, Chloe Sullivan had rid her all too crowded apartment of some of the fiercest soldiers alive.

He smiled at her apologetically, his brows knit worriedly. "Sorry?"

Lifting her prize, she bit into her pizza and shook her head. "You're gonna have to do a lot better than that." Walking to her bedroom, she half-grinned in triumph as he followed. A laugh escaped her as he hauled her up into his arms, smirking. Game long forgotten, he kicked the door shut behind them. The next few hours would be spent enjoying his verbal and physical apology, until she was too sated and too exhausted to remember why she'd been mad in the first place.