A/N: This was my very first attempt at writing down a Chlark fantasy, or alternate coping story I'd thought up years ago to make me feel better about 'the triangle'. It's a lot different from when I first imagined it. Naturally; years have gone by; but it's pretty much got the same plots and such. I really hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, the Characters, nothing. Just my laptop.

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"Chloe wake up."

There's a sudden invasion of lights and sounds as my cousin yanks the blankets from my face. I bury my head in the pillows and groan out loud. Normally I'm a morning person; but last night was a long one.

Lois snatches the pillow away from me; and judging by the subtle thud, throws it across the room.

'What's she doing up so early anyway.'

"I'm up. I'm up," I say as I sit up and run my hands over my face and hair.

"Guess who called me this morning to talk to you..."

I blink a couple of times and take in my surroundings. It doesn't take me long to figure out I'm in Clark's room. He must've carried me up here last night/this morning.

"…..you could have at least given me a heads up..."

I get out of the bed and stretch; noting that as I do my shirt inches upward, revealing bare thighs. Clark must've also remembered how much I hate sleeping in jeans.

"...lucky for you I was able to come up with a spur of the moment cover story. No pat on the back necessary, I've already done it myself..."

I make a mental note to thank him then immediately scratch it. It wouldn't be the best idea to thank my very male best friend for taking off my pants while I slept. I smile a little at the thought of how red Clark's cheeks would grow if I did do such a thing. I might just do it anyway.

"It's not funny Chloe; I told her you'd meet her for lunch instead."

'Meet her? Who the hell am I supposed to-Lana!'

"Oh my God Lois, I'm supposed to meet Lana for breakfast!"

"I just said th-"

"What time is it?"

Lois just looks at me; and I can't quite comprehend the expression she's giving me right now, but I don't have the time to figure it out.

"Lois! The time," I command.

"Chloe, it's almost 10:30, but I told Lana you'd meet her for lunch instead."

I grab her arms firmly, looking her square in the eyes. I'm well aware of the fact that I might be wearing a slightly manic expression.

"Lois, what else did you tell her?"

"I told her we stayed up and had a couple of drinks too many, and that you have a major hangover right now."

She slowly pries my fingers from her arms, and examines them one by one; checking for bruises. I'm tempted to roll my eyes at her. I didn't grab her that hard.

"I let her know I'd wake you up in a few and that you'd meet her for lunch instead," she says slowly. Very slowly. As if she's explaining to a small child why two plus two couldn't be three slowly. I relax a little until she tells me I'm supposed to be meeting Lana in less than 3 hours. That's how long it takes to get there for goodness sakes!

"You know how long it takes to get to Metropolis Lois! Why didn't you come and get me earlier?"

I start looking around for something to wear and spot the jeans I wore yesterday folded neatly on the desk.

"I tried but you weren't answering your pho-"

"I need your shirt."

"My -"

"Yes your shirt. Take it off," she looks at me again, and I swear she thinks I've gone off the deep end. And maybe I have. Ever since Lana and Clark broke up, I've been feeling like a child caught in the middle of her parent's nasty custody battle. On the one hand, I've got my super-powered best friend who depends on my help with his many endeavors; on the other is Lana, who not even two weeks ago was engaging in suicidal attempts to see her parents as way of coping with the divorce…er break-up. Add classes at Met U and my work at the daily planet and well, I'm pretty much up to my neck and drowning in stress.

"I can maybe get away with wearing the same jeans as yesterday, but not the same shirt," I explain.

Lois visibly relaxes. Obviously that's a sane enough reason for me to want her shirt. But then…

"Wait; what am I going to wear?"

I walk past her and open the closet door. I gesture impatiently with a wave of my hands at the many shirts inside.

"Not the all you can wear plaid and flannel buffet," she groans. "Why can't you wear one of these things?"

"Because I spent the night at your place Lois; and unless you have some of Clark's shirts hidden in your closet -"

"Okay okay, I get your point."

She takes off the t-shirt and hands it to me while going through Clark's closet.

'For someone who hates Clark's wardrobe as much as Lois claims to, this t-shirt is the same exact blue Clark is fond of wearing'.

If I wasn't in panic mode right now, I'd tease her about it.

I snatch my jeans off the desk revealing three pictures. One is of Clark with his parents. Another is of Clark, Pete and me during our freshman year. The last one is of me. Just me. I haven't been up here in forever. Most of our time is spent in the living room, the Talon, the loft; or the Daily Planet.

Absently I wonder whether or not it's always been here, or if it's a replacement for one that's been put away recently. And before I can decide whether or not I actually want to know the answer, the door opens and Clark comes in.

"Jeez Smallville, knock much. We're getting dressed!"

I look at Lois slightly confused. She's already dressed.

"Your phone was ringing," Clark says while staring fixedly at my face and ignoring Lois.

"Who was it?" The question is just a formality. I'm already pretty sure of who it was.

"Lana. But I didn't answer it," he adds hurriedly.

He holds my phone out to me; and when I reach for it, I notice my pants are still in my hands. That would explain why his eyes haven't left my face since he opened the door; and if it weren't for the fact that Clark can see through things like walls, clothes, metals, clothes, wood, and clothes, I probably would have had the decency to try and hide myself.

"Just put it on the dresser," I say as I put one foot in my pant legs. He does as I ask and leaves the room.

"What the hell was that all about?"

I'd completely forgotten Lois was there; and as a result, I end up losing my balance at the sound of her voice. I land flat on my rear with a dull but painful thud.

Tears spring to my eyes and I close them while holding onto the back of my head. Incidentally, while trying to keep from landing face first, I've managed to split the back of my skull on a corner of the desk instead.

'Smooth Sullivan.'

Lois rushes over to me, but hers is not the voice I hear first.

"Chloe are you okay?"

I jerk my eyes open, remove my hand from my head, and smile at the sound of Clark's voice. I don't like hospitals. Clark is very fond of suggesting and making me go. My best bet is to convince him that I'm fine and in no pain whatsoever.

He kneels in front of me; His face no more than a few inches from my own. Evidently I hadn't been fast enough at dropping my hand because he's massaging the very same spot with his fingers while staring at my face intently. It takes all of my strength and then some not to wince as he so obviously wants me to do. There's no doubt in mind he'll whisk me off to Smallville General if I so much as blink too many times.

"I'm fine Clark."

I reach back and disengage his fingers from my head.

I can see Lois staring at Clark with a bewildered expression. She's probably wondering how he got here so fast. I wish he'd leave in the same fashion.

"I just tripped over my pants."

I gesture towards the heap pooled around my ankles; my attempt at drawing his attention to the fact that I'm not wearing them.

He stands up and let's his eyes sweep over the length of my body. Satisfied with what he sees, he nods his head once in approval and leaves. Lois follows after him, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Until…

Lois shuts the door softly, and locks it. I gulp as she turns back to me with an expression I recognize.

'Not good'.

I begin pulling on my pants just to have something to do and look at other than her.

"Chloe are you and Clark...Have you and Clark..." Lois clears her throat and I begin to realize what she's trying to ask me. "Last night did you and Clark -"

"No! Jeez Lois how could you think that?"

I zip up my pants and look around for my shoes.

"Oh I don't know; maybe because I found you asleep in his bed wearing nothing but a shirt..."

"You've slept in his bed wearing nothing but a shirt; his shirt in fact," I point out.

"You're able to have a normal conversation wearing nothing but said shirt..."

"You two are able to hold a normal conversation with less than said shirt. Like that red bikini you just bought last week."

"And the way he was looking at you just now," she continues as if she hadn't heard a word I just said. And she probably hasn't.

"How was he looking at me just now?"

"I don't know how to explain it Chloe, it was like he was focused on only you. All of you," she scans her eyes up and down my body for emphasis.

And since I can't exactly tell my cousin he was just x-raying me, I settled for, "He was just making sure I was okay; and besides Lana's my best friend. How could you think I'd date her ex when she's obviously not over him yet? I could never hurt her that way. She-oh my god Lana!" 'Damn it!'

"Lois I gotta go," I yell over my shoulder as I race out of the room, down the stairs, out of the front door, and to my car. But mostly I race away from Lois and her game of twenty questions.