Katrina Relief Fund Fic
Title: Red Menace
Fandom: Smallville/DC Universe Crossover
Pairing: Chloe/Wally
Genre: AU (what else)
Rating: General Audience het implied
Summary: When Chloe Met Wally
For drkcherry's generous donation to The American Red Cross
That damn red menace. If he does a run-by pinch of my ass one more time...
I'm going to make sure that he's caught on camera sexually harassing a member of the press.
Chloe Sullivan has never allowed any man to treat her like a cheap toy and Wally West isn't about to become the first even if he is The Flash and my lover. I wonder if there's anyway to booby trap a skirt? Maybe I could get pointers from Poison Ivy or Harley Quinn?
After Smallville, I thought I'd had enough of men with secrets and/or superpowers. So why was I working for the Central City Picture-News covering The Flash and dating his alter-ego, Wally West?
It all started when I graduated from MetU. I knew that I couldn't stay in Metropolis. As much as I love Clark -- the big doofus -- it's better that we didn't try to work together. I'd have ended up his research assistant for the rest of my life and playing second fiddle to either Lana, Lois or, most likely, Lex. So I pulled out a map and stuck in a pin.
The pin landed in Central City. (Why couldn't I have picked someplace exciting, like New York? I pouted at the time, not knowing what I was getting myself into.) I put together my resume and applied for a staff reporter position at the Picture-News. Interestingly enough, it was my reporting for the Torch that got me the job. (Who knew that speculation on meteor mutants would be so popular?) However it was my ability to get exclusives on the exploits of the local superhero that got me a by-line.
Just my luck that I'd pick the city with the only superhero with more of a caffeine addiction than me. Of course, I met Wally at Starbucks and I, in my infinite wisdom, laughed when he flirted with me. Hadn't I learned from Smallville's krypto-freaks that you can't laugh at the eager, puppy dogs? They won't go away. Not even when you smack them on the nose with a newspaper.
Wally has a bigger ego than Lionel Luthor and I didn't think that was possible. He just didn't believe anyone could reject him. It really was hard to stay mad at him for long. Not when he offered me an orchid for ruining my blouse when he bumped into me and spilled my triple shot latte all over me. Or refuse to have dinner with him when he turned those eyes on me. Eyes like that should be illegal. I'm sure they must be in this state. I'll check the internet and get back to you.
Wally's my age, but seems so much younger. I guess it's his zest for life or the fact that he eats sugar-coated breakfast cereal straight from the box. Not that I learned this on our first date, mind you. But I did learn it soon enough. (I, at least, pour my cereal into a bowl and use a spoon. Sometimes I even add milk.)
He also has an affinity for children that is amazing. His work with the orphanage is inspiring. He'll make a wonderful father someday.
I meet Wally for coffee almost every morning -- though Wally's idea of coffee wasn't mine.
"Would you like a little coffee with your sugar, Mr. West?" I asked dryly.
He just shrugged and smiled. "I have a very high metabolism."
He was thin, but I've seen him eat. Wally had a healthy appetite. He made Clark look like a dainty eater. One of these days I'd love to see Martha Kent feed both of them.
Despite Wally's love of calories and his puppy dog ways, he wormed his way into my heart. Yes, I have one. I just don't wear it on my sleeve anymore. After Smallville, I'd hoped I'd learned my lesson.
It didn't take me long to realize that Wally seemed to have more than just a day job. He carried a rather high tech pager and had to break dates quite often. He was injured frequently and he seemed to always be in the right place at the right time. Having known Clark for so many years, I was quick to recognize the symptoms and put two and two together rather easily.
Not being like some people I know, I respected his right to privacy. Our relationship didn't hinge on whether he told me about that part of his life. I knew that being a super hero required a great deal of dedication. It was as much a part of who Wally was as being a reporter was to me. I would never ask Wally to reveal the truth to me. However if he told me, I'd have to point out how easily I'd figured out the truth.
I officially met The Flash covering his latest battle with Grodd. That overgrown ape really had it in for the speedster, but Flash managed to defeat him in style yet again. I swear, however, if the Flash ever takes time from beating the living daylights out of a super-villain to move me out of harm's way again, I'll make sure that the dry cleaner puts something caustic in his spandex panties.
When the paper printed my story, I met Wally for coffee to show off my first big time by-line.
He got very quiet for a moment then looked me straight in the eye. "You know that I'm The Flash, don't you?" He asked in a very small voice.
I patted his hand. "Wally, that orchid you gave me to apologize for spilling my latte only grows in the rain forests of Brazil. You brought it to me in less time than it took to mop up the spill from my blouse. Your 'flower shop one block over' explanation just didn't pan out."
"There really is a flower shop there," he protested.
"Wally, it's a newspaper stand that carries a few buckets of pre-bundled flowers."
"Right."
I patted his hand again. "Clark could never lie worth shit either."
I didn't even blink as Wally's eyes widened and he sat there with his chin practically on the table.
"I have to get back to the paper." I got up and kissed Wally on the cheek. One should always know when to make a dramatic exit.
Fandom: Smallville/DC Universe Crossover
Pairing: Chloe/Wally
Genre: AU (what else)
Rating: General Audience het implied
Summary: When Chloe Met Wally
For drkcherry's generous donation to The American Red Cross
That damn red menace. If he does a run-by pinch of my ass one more time...
I'm going to make sure that he's caught on camera sexually harassing a member of the press.
Chloe Sullivan has never allowed any man to treat her like a cheap toy and Wally West isn't about to become the first even if he is The Flash and my lover. I wonder if there's anyway to booby trap a skirt? Maybe I could get pointers from Poison Ivy or Harley Quinn?
After Smallville, I thought I'd had enough of men with secrets and/or superpowers. So why was I working for the Central City Picture-News covering The Flash and dating his alter-ego, Wally West?
It all started when I graduated from MetU. I knew that I couldn't stay in Metropolis. As much as I love Clark -- the big doofus -- it's better that we didn't try to work together. I'd have ended up his research assistant for the rest of my life and playing second fiddle to either Lana, Lois or, most likely, Lex. So I pulled out a map and stuck in a pin.
The pin landed in Central City. (Why couldn't I have picked someplace exciting, like New York? I pouted at the time, not knowing what I was getting myself into.) I put together my resume and applied for a staff reporter position at the Picture-News. Interestingly enough, it was my reporting for the Torch that got me the job. (Who knew that speculation on meteor mutants would be so popular?) However it was my ability to get exclusives on the exploits of the local superhero that got me a by-line.
Just my luck that I'd pick the city with the only superhero with more of a caffeine addiction than me. Of course, I met Wally at Starbucks and I, in my infinite wisdom, laughed when he flirted with me. Hadn't I learned from Smallville's krypto-freaks that you can't laugh at the eager, puppy dogs? They won't go away. Not even when you smack them on the nose with a newspaper.
Wally has a bigger ego than Lionel Luthor and I didn't think that was possible. He just didn't believe anyone could reject him. It really was hard to stay mad at him for long. Not when he offered me an orchid for ruining my blouse when he bumped into me and spilled my triple shot latte all over me. Or refuse to have dinner with him when he turned those eyes on me. Eyes like that should be illegal. I'm sure they must be in this state. I'll check the internet and get back to you.
Wally's my age, but seems so much younger. I guess it's his zest for life or the fact that he eats sugar-coated breakfast cereal straight from the box. Not that I learned this on our first date, mind you. But I did learn it soon enough. (I, at least, pour my cereal into a bowl and use a spoon. Sometimes I even add milk.)
He also has an affinity for children that is amazing. His work with the orphanage is inspiring. He'll make a wonderful father someday.
I meet Wally for coffee almost every morning -- though Wally's idea of coffee wasn't mine.
"Would you like a little coffee with your sugar, Mr. West?" I asked dryly.
He just shrugged and smiled. "I have a very high metabolism."
He was thin, but I've seen him eat. Wally had a healthy appetite. He made Clark look like a dainty eater. One of these days I'd love to see Martha Kent feed both of them.
Despite Wally's love of calories and his puppy dog ways, he wormed his way into my heart. Yes, I have one. I just don't wear it on my sleeve anymore. After Smallville, I'd hoped I'd learned my lesson.
It didn't take me long to realize that Wally seemed to have more than just a day job. He carried a rather high tech pager and had to break dates quite often. He was injured frequently and he seemed to always be in the right place at the right time. Having known Clark for so many years, I was quick to recognize the symptoms and put two and two together rather easily.
Not being like some people I know, I respected his right to privacy. Our relationship didn't hinge on whether he told me about that part of his life. I knew that being a super hero required a great deal of dedication. It was as much a part of who Wally was as being a reporter was to me. I would never ask Wally to reveal the truth to me. However if he told me, I'd have to point out how easily I'd figured out the truth.
I officially met The Flash covering his latest battle with Grodd. That overgrown ape really had it in for the speedster, but Flash managed to defeat him in style yet again. I swear, however, if the Flash ever takes time from beating the living daylights out of a super-villain to move me out of harm's way again, I'll make sure that the dry cleaner puts something caustic in his spandex panties.
When the paper printed my story, I met Wally for coffee to show off my first big time by-line.
He got very quiet for a moment then looked me straight in the eye. "You know that I'm The Flash, don't you?" He asked in a very small voice.
I patted his hand. "Wally, that orchid you gave me to apologize for spilling my latte only grows in the rain forests of Brazil. You brought it to me in less time than it took to mop up the spill from my blouse. Your 'flower shop one block over' explanation just didn't pan out."
"There really is a flower shop there," he protested.
"Wally, it's a newspaper stand that carries a few buckets of pre-bundled flowers."
"Right."
I patted his hand again. "Clark could never lie worth shit either."
I didn't even blink as Wally's eyes widened and he sat there with his chin practically on the table.
"I have to get back to the paper." I got up and kissed Wally on the cheek. One should always know when to make a dramatic exit.