Fic: A Kiss is just A Kiss
Fic: A Kiss is Just a Kiss. (A Chloe and the Immortals Story)
Summary: On the day of his graduation from college, Chloe comes to visit Richie to fulfill a promise.
Author: pen37
Fandoms: Highlander/Smallville. Characters from Supernatural mentioned.
Characters: ChloeSullivan, Richie Ryan. Mentions of Methos and Dean.
Pairing:Onscreen Chloe/Richie. Offscreen hints of Chloe/Dean.
Rating: G
Beta:Strangevisitor7
This is part of my Chloe and the Immortials series, which is now forever joined at the hip to Strangevisitor7's Immortal!Dean series. Each fic can be read independently of the rest. And each fic is very short. You can find the rest here. And the immortal!Dean series here.
This fic takes place after her stories Nobody's Girl, and And then I crashed into you.
Written for the Crossovers100 challenge. Prompt #57 Lunch The table is here.
From her partially-secluded seat in the rafters of the auditorium, Chloe watched Richie’s friends as they watched Richie receive his diploma.
In particular, she watched Dean keep his arm around this Amazon of a brunette. She couldn’t figure out why seeing Dean with his latest something-on-the-side hurt so much. Maybe it was because - judging by the way he was holding her close - she didn’t look quite so transient for Dean.
Chloe steered her mind back to the ceremony going on across the stage. She should feel relieved. After all, starting something with Dean was an impossibility. But for some reason, the idea that she’d lost another potential relationship to yet another tall, leggy brunette hurt a little bit.
Still, she reminded herself, if Dean’s attention was elsewhere, that only made things easier. Because she wasn’t here to start something with him. She was here to warn the Immortal crew.
Only a few months prior, she’d taken off. Left them with no explanation to help the Justice League stop Vandal Savage, an immortal (small I) madman who made Hitler look like Mr. Rogers by comparison.
To say things hadn’t gone well would be an understatement. In the course of the mission, she’d found that Savage was keeping files on her. Watching her movements.
She was now un-aging. Which meant that she might be around to recognize him, and to thwart his plans long after the rest of the Justice League was dust and gone. So he considered it only prudent to keep tabs on her.
She considered it a small miracle that he’d been unable to follow her movements when she’d been hunting with the Winchesters. At the time, Dean still had an FBI record, and the boys were determined to stay under the radar. That, combined with their vagabond lifestyle had made Savage’s minions throw their hands up in frustration and give up on tracking her. At least temporarily.
But now she had no doubts that they were back. And she shuddered to think what Savage would do if he discovered this entire race of Immortal beings.
Which was mostly why she was here today. To let Dean, Sam and Richie know that she couldn’t be friends with them anymore. That she had to cut all ties. Because she wouldn’t be responsible for what happened if Savage found them. Couldn’t live with herself if he did. Still, that didn’t mean that knowing Dean had moved on didn’t hurt.
As the ceremony concluded, she pulled a letter from her purse, stood, and raced ahead of the crowd for the auditorium’s side door. She had once promised to tell Richie everything. The letter fulfilled that promise. It explained her mutation, her role with the Justice League, Vandal Savage and the threat he posed to the Immortals. And it explained why she couldn’t keep in contact with them. She planned to slip it into Richie’s coat and be gone before the rest of the group spotted her.
She found Richie instantly, chatting up a cluster of blonde sorority girls. She smiled at that. With his boyish good looks, Richie would always be attractive to the giggly co-ed types. Right now, she was counting on the girls as being the distraction that she needed to slip the letter into his pocket and get away quickly.
What she didn’t count on, was Duncan’s training. Because just as she was slipping the letter into his pocket, Richie seized her wrist.
“Weren’t you going to say hello, Chloe?” He turned to her with a radiant smile, the co-eds instantly forgotten.
“Hello Chloe.” She quickly composed herself, and schooled her features into a mask of happiness.
“Funny.” Richie frowned. “You know you could have sat with Mac and the others.”
“I didn’t plan on anyone seeing me,” She said honestly. “I’d rather that they didn’t know I was here, but I wanted to see you graduate. Congratulations, by the way.”
“Why didn’t you want to run into anyone?” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Is this about Dean and Amanda?”
“It’s . . . complicated.” She tried to ignore the little stab of jealousy at the mention of the leggy brunette. Amanda. Hope her last name dosen’t start with an A. For some reason the brunettes always have alliterative names. Instead she tried to mentally gauge the time she had before the others made their appearance.
Richie must have read in her body language the need to get away. He took the envelope and looked at her with a disapproving expression.
Chloe sighed, and let her shoulders slump in a defeated posture. “I’ll tell you what. I think I promised to let you take me to lunch. Give me a call when you can break away, and I’ll explain everything.”
He clenched his jaw in a firm line, and nodded to her. “Okay. I’ll call you later.”
“Thanks, Richie.” She gave him a final, relieved smile before melting back into the crowd.
She’d gone about seven steps when she heard Dean’s booming voice, proclaiming. “Well, I guess I can call you college boy now.” She quickened her steps, and slipped out the auditorium door before anyone else could spot her.
** *
When Richie called later, he asked her to meet him at Thibodaux’s. It was a Creole restaurant lodged in a narrow, brick building with neon lights, zydeco music, and red-and-white checkered table cloths that was operated by a family of post-Katrina transplants from New Orleans.
Chloe chose a booth in the back - where the darkness of the room and the noise of the music offered them some privacy to talk. Additionally, she had one of those frequency jammers that Ollie had given her to keep any planted bugs or long-range listening devices from picking up the conversation.
Once Richie was there, he placed the letter on the table, and gave her an incredulous look. “You just planned to drop this on me, and leave? While I appreciate that fact that you’ve shared your secrets with me, do you really think we’re just going to cut ties with you and not try to help. We are a bunch of white hats after all.”
Chloe sighed. “I didn’t see any other way. Richie - I’m taking a big enough risk just meeting with you like this.”
“Because some immortal nut-case has a mad-on for you?”
“Because some immortal nut-case thinks I’m a threat. Richie, I’m trying to protect you guys.”
“By keeping us ignorant of the danger?”
“That letter explains the danger. You can share that information with other Immortals and the Watchers. I’ve done all I can. But Richie, this is my problem.”
“For how long, Chloe? Sooner or later, this guy will run into one of us on his own.”
“He hasn’t yet.” Chloe said. “And now that you guys know about him, you can avoid that. But . . . Don’t tell the others about how you got this information. Especially Dean. He’d just got straight after Savage without even thinking of the cost to the Immortals, much less Sam.” Chloe shook her head. “I don’t want Savage getting his hooks in any of you. Especially if I can distract him by leading him on a goose chase.”
“You’re right about Dean. And if Savage is half as bad as you’ve indicated avoidance is a better choice than confrontation.” Richie admitted reluctantly.
She smiled at him. “I knew you’d understand.”
Richie reached across the table to lay his hand on Chloe’s, “So you’re really determined to avoid us for the rest of eternity? That’s a long time.”
“I don’t know that I’m immortal,” Chloe shrugged.
“Last time I saw you, your neck was broken,” Richie challenged. “You came back from that, same as one of us. That seems pretty damn immortal to me.”
“And I may drop dead on my own in sixty years,” she threw her hands up in a wild gesture of her frustration. “Savage thinks I won’t, but he tried to cut my heart out: which means that I’m not going to trust his opinion. Bottom line is that I don’t know much about my powers. I know I can heal others by taking on their injuries, and I know that I can heal myself of just about anything - short of having my heart cut out. But I don’t know if that translates to never dying.”
“And what if you’re truly immortal?” Richie tilted his head to pin her with a serious look. “Are you going to spend all that time alone? Sounds really lonely to me. If Dean knew -“
“He’s not going to know.” Chloe shook her head and cut off Richie’s line of thought with an abrupt chopping motion of her hands. “He’s moved on. And it looks like he’s forgotten about me. With everything I’m mixed up in . . . maybe that’s a good thing.”
“Chloe, he hasn’t forgotten you.” Richie insisted but she just stared at him with her eyebrow quirked at that ‘yeah right angle’. “Fine believe what you want but if he finds out that I kept this from him...”
“Just tell him that I wouldn’t let you say anything. That’s the truth. Besides you know Dean, once he calms down he’ll respect that fact that you kept my secret more than he’ll be angry and right now, knowing me is dangerous.”
“Okay,” Richie threw his hands up in a placating manner. “You win. But is your life going to always be dangerous?”
“Tell you what,” Chloe said with a tiny smile. “How about - if I’m still alive and kicking in a hundred years, I look you up.”
“I’d like that,” Richie smiled at her. “Let’s call it a date.”
“It’s a date then,” she said with a small smile.
“Still, I wish you’d have come to my graduation party. It was a heck of a blow-out.”
“Me too,” Chloe said sadly. “I’m proud of you, by the way. Education is important. I never really finished my degree.”
“What?” Richie raised an eyebrow at that.
“My college got wrecked during the whole Dark Thursday thing. By the time they rebuilt and resumed classes, I’d gotten far enough up the ladder at the Daily Planet that having a journalism degree was a little bit superfluous. Maybe someday I’ll go back.” She snorted. “If I’m being tailed by Savage’s goons like I think I am, it might be funny to make them sit around, trying to blend in to a college campus while I fit in classes between stories.”
They ordered dinner, and as the food came out - shrimp po’-boys, with sides of rice and corn - they talked about general things. Eventually the conversation returned to Vandal Savage.
“So now, with this psycho watching you, what are you going to do?” Richie asked.
“I’ve been offered an assignment - one that I think I can do some real good for others at. Both as a Metahuman, and a reporter. Plus, I doubt Savage’s goons would follow me.” And it will probably keep Dean from wondering why I haven’t been in touch with him. She silently amended.
“What is it?” Richie looked intrigued.
“You know about the earthquakes in Gotham, right?”
“Yeah?”
“My sources say that the government doesn’t plan to rebuild. They’re just going to blow the bridges, and declare the whole island a no-man’s land.
Richie blinked at that. “They didn’t even do that to New Orleans.”
“Well, The Big Easy is still connected to land. Gotham is an island. And it’s always been a politician’s nightmare. Corruption, Metahuman psychos like The Joker, urban decay. Who would want to rebuild that?”
“And you’re going in?” Richie looked troubled at that.
“Before they blow up the bridges. Gotham has its share of folks who are going to try and stick it out. My paper wants to send me in with a sat phone to report from the inside. It’s the perfect solution really. I can’t get hurt, and I can help others. Especially once the medical supplies start to run out. Plus, I can keep people on the outside aware of what’s going on. And if Savage’s goons follow me, I’ll be able to spot them and keep them away.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought,” Richie said.
“I have.”
“Then - I guess it’s no use changing your mind.” He sighed reluctantly.
“I appreciate that,” She nodded feeling a deep pit of despair finally close. Richie’s approval and acceptance meant a lot more to her than she’d realized. “Your respect has always meant a lot to me, Richie.”
“Thanks Chloe, I’ve . . . your friendship has been important to me, too.” A sudden thought lit his eyes, sending him scrambling for a pen and a handy napkin. He hastily scrawled a series of numbers across the soft paper, and then handed it to her. “Here.”
“What’s this?” Chloe looked at the paper curiously.
“It’s the number to an old friend.”
“And when you say old, you mean . . .”
“He’s probably about 4,000 years. And he’s also probably the deadliest immortal around. He changes names a lot so I don’t know what he’ll be calling himself if you finally do call but mention my name and I’m sure he’ll give you whatever help you need.”
“Oh,” Chloe blinked. “Richie, I can’t --”
Her words were cut off when Richie placed a finger to her lips. “The way I figure it, if this Savage guy is as old and deadly as you think he is, you’re going to need an ally at least as old and deadly. You don’t have to call him now, but if you hit a point that your back is against a wall, give him a ring.”
“I’ll . . . I’ll hang onto his number. But no guarantees that I’ll call him.”
“That’s all I’m asking, Chloe.”
The rest of the meal proceeded in silence. Richie mentally kicked himself for not knowing the words to make Chloe stay. Dean might have made her listen. But then again, he hadn’t been that successful with her the first time she’d left, so Richie kind of doubted he’d be any more successful this time.
Chloe was her own woman. A stubborn one. And he was beginning to see that once she’d made up her mind, there was no changing it. With a sinking heart, he waved their waitress over to pay for the tab. They got up, and walked toward the exit.
“You know, it’s going to be hard not having you around.”
“I’m always as close as the front page of the paper,” Chloe laughed.
Richie shrugged. “Gonna’ be hard to think of you without thinking you’re the one that got away.”
“You make me sound like a large mouth bass.” She giggled nervously as she felt the nearness of him
In response, Richie pulled her close and kissed her. He had no illusions that a kiss from him would magically change her mind but he wasn’t going to let her leave again without at least letting her know how much he cared.
He pulled back, and gave her a sad smile. “I like your mouth.”
Chloe returned his sad smile with one of her own. She bowed her head, and pushed her hair behind her ears in a bid to avoid looking at his face . “I’ll . . . see you in a hundred years then,” she said.
“Yeah,” Richie nodded. As he watched her gather her purse and coat, and then head for the exit, the music changed from the lively zydeco to a more sedate New Orleans Jazz rendition of As Time Goes By.
She stopped at the door to turn and blow a kiss his way, before turning and walking out into the rainy Seacouver night.
Richie watched her leave as he mentally sang along with the song. The fundamental things apply . . . as time goes by.
Summary: On the day of his graduation from college, Chloe comes to visit Richie to fulfill a promise.
Author: pen37
Fandoms: Highlander/Smallville. Characters from Supernatural mentioned.
Characters: ChloeSullivan, Richie Ryan. Mentions of Methos and Dean.
Pairing:Onscreen Chloe/Richie. Offscreen hints of Chloe/Dean.
Rating: G
Beta:Strangevisitor7
This is part of my Chloe and the Immortials series, which is now forever joined at the hip to Strangevisitor7's Immortal!Dean series. Each fic can be read independently of the rest. And each fic is very short. You can find the rest here. And the immortal!Dean series here.
This fic takes place after her stories Nobody's Girl, and And then I crashed into you.
Written for the Crossovers100 challenge. Prompt #57 Lunch The table is here.
From her partially-secluded seat in the rafters of the auditorium, Chloe watched Richie’s friends as they watched Richie receive his diploma.
In particular, she watched Dean keep his arm around this Amazon of a brunette. She couldn’t figure out why seeing Dean with his latest something-on-the-side hurt so much. Maybe it was because - judging by the way he was holding her close - she didn’t look quite so transient for Dean.
Chloe steered her mind back to the ceremony going on across the stage. She should feel relieved. After all, starting something with Dean was an impossibility. But for some reason, the idea that she’d lost another potential relationship to yet another tall, leggy brunette hurt a little bit.
Still, she reminded herself, if Dean’s attention was elsewhere, that only made things easier. Because she wasn’t here to start something with him. She was here to warn the Immortal crew.
Only a few months prior, she’d taken off. Left them with no explanation to help the Justice League stop Vandal Savage, an immortal (small I) madman who made Hitler look like Mr. Rogers by comparison.
To say things hadn’t gone well would be an understatement. In the course of the mission, she’d found that Savage was keeping files on her. Watching her movements.
She was now un-aging. Which meant that she might be around to recognize him, and to thwart his plans long after the rest of the Justice League was dust and gone. So he considered it only prudent to keep tabs on her.
She considered it a small miracle that he’d been unable to follow her movements when she’d been hunting with the Winchesters. At the time, Dean still had an FBI record, and the boys were determined to stay under the radar. That, combined with their vagabond lifestyle had made Savage’s minions throw their hands up in frustration and give up on tracking her. At least temporarily.
But now she had no doubts that they were back. And she shuddered to think what Savage would do if he discovered this entire race of Immortal beings.
Which was mostly why she was here today. To let Dean, Sam and Richie know that she couldn’t be friends with them anymore. That she had to cut all ties. Because she wouldn’t be responsible for what happened if Savage found them. Couldn’t live with herself if he did. Still, that didn’t mean that knowing Dean had moved on didn’t hurt.
As the ceremony concluded, she pulled a letter from her purse, stood, and raced ahead of the crowd for the auditorium’s side door. She had once promised to tell Richie everything. The letter fulfilled that promise. It explained her mutation, her role with the Justice League, Vandal Savage and the threat he posed to the Immortals. And it explained why she couldn’t keep in contact with them. She planned to slip it into Richie’s coat and be gone before the rest of the group spotted her.
She found Richie instantly, chatting up a cluster of blonde sorority girls. She smiled at that. With his boyish good looks, Richie would always be attractive to the giggly co-ed types. Right now, she was counting on the girls as being the distraction that she needed to slip the letter into his pocket and get away quickly.
What she didn’t count on, was Duncan’s training. Because just as she was slipping the letter into his pocket, Richie seized her wrist.
“Weren’t you going to say hello, Chloe?” He turned to her with a radiant smile, the co-eds instantly forgotten.
“Hello Chloe.” She quickly composed herself, and schooled her features into a mask of happiness.
“Funny.” Richie frowned. “You know you could have sat with Mac and the others.”
“I didn’t plan on anyone seeing me,” She said honestly. “I’d rather that they didn’t know I was here, but I wanted to see you graduate. Congratulations, by the way.”
“Why didn’t you want to run into anyone?” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Is this about Dean and Amanda?”
“It’s . . . complicated.” She tried to ignore the little stab of jealousy at the mention of the leggy brunette. Amanda. Hope her last name dosen’t start with an A. For some reason the brunettes always have alliterative names. Instead she tried to mentally gauge the time she had before the others made their appearance.
Richie must have read in her body language the need to get away. He took the envelope and looked at her with a disapproving expression.
Chloe sighed, and let her shoulders slump in a defeated posture. “I’ll tell you what. I think I promised to let you take me to lunch. Give me a call when you can break away, and I’ll explain everything.”
He clenched his jaw in a firm line, and nodded to her. “Okay. I’ll call you later.”
“Thanks, Richie.” She gave him a final, relieved smile before melting back into the crowd.
She’d gone about seven steps when she heard Dean’s booming voice, proclaiming. “Well, I guess I can call you college boy now.” She quickened her steps, and slipped out the auditorium door before anyone else could spot her.
** *
When Richie called later, he asked her to meet him at Thibodaux’s. It was a Creole restaurant lodged in a narrow, brick building with neon lights, zydeco music, and red-and-white checkered table cloths that was operated by a family of post-Katrina transplants from New Orleans.
Chloe chose a booth in the back - where the darkness of the room and the noise of the music offered them some privacy to talk. Additionally, she had one of those frequency jammers that Ollie had given her to keep any planted bugs or long-range listening devices from picking up the conversation.
Once Richie was there, he placed the letter on the table, and gave her an incredulous look. “You just planned to drop this on me, and leave? While I appreciate that fact that you’ve shared your secrets with me, do you really think we’re just going to cut ties with you and not try to help. We are a bunch of white hats after all.”
Chloe sighed. “I didn’t see any other way. Richie - I’m taking a big enough risk just meeting with you like this.”
“Because some immortal nut-case has a mad-on for you?”
“Because some immortal nut-case thinks I’m a threat. Richie, I’m trying to protect you guys.”
“By keeping us ignorant of the danger?”
“That letter explains the danger. You can share that information with other Immortals and the Watchers. I’ve done all I can. But Richie, this is my problem.”
“For how long, Chloe? Sooner or later, this guy will run into one of us on his own.”
“He hasn’t yet.” Chloe said. “And now that you guys know about him, you can avoid that. But . . . Don’t tell the others about how you got this information. Especially Dean. He’d just got straight after Savage without even thinking of the cost to the Immortals, much less Sam.” Chloe shook her head. “I don’t want Savage getting his hooks in any of you. Especially if I can distract him by leading him on a goose chase.”
“You’re right about Dean. And if Savage is half as bad as you’ve indicated avoidance is a better choice than confrontation.” Richie admitted reluctantly.
She smiled at him. “I knew you’d understand.”
Richie reached across the table to lay his hand on Chloe’s, “So you’re really determined to avoid us for the rest of eternity? That’s a long time.”
“I don’t know that I’m immortal,” Chloe shrugged.
“Last time I saw you, your neck was broken,” Richie challenged. “You came back from that, same as one of us. That seems pretty damn immortal to me.”
“And I may drop dead on my own in sixty years,” she threw her hands up in a wild gesture of her frustration. “Savage thinks I won’t, but he tried to cut my heart out: which means that I’m not going to trust his opinion. Bottom line is that I don’t know much about my powers. I know I can heal others by taking on their injuries, and I know that I can heal myself of just about anything - short of having my heart cut out. But I don’t know if that translates to never dying.”
“And what if you’re truly immortal?” Richie tilted his head to pin her with a serious look. “Are you going to spend all that time alone? Sounds really lonely to me. If Dean knew -“
“He’s not going to know.” Chloe shook her head and cut off Richie’s line of thought with an abrupt chopping motion of her hands. “He’s moved on. And it looks like he’s forgotten about me. With everything I’m mixed up in . . . maybe that’s a good thing.”
“Chloe, he hasn’t forgotten you.” Richie insisted but she just stared at him with her eyebrow quirked at that ‘yeah right angle’. “Fine believe what you want but if he finds out that I kept this from him...”
“Just tell him that I wouldn’t let you say anything. That’s the truth. Besides you know Dean, once he calms down he’ll respect that fact that you kept my secret more than he’ll be angry and right now, knowing me is dangerous.”
“Okay,” Richie threw his hands up in a placating manner. “You win. But is your life going to always be dangerous?”
“Tell you what,” Chloe said with a tiny smile. “How about - if I’m still alive and kicking in a hundred years, I look you up.”
“I’d like that,” Richie smiled at her. “Let’s call it a date.”
“It’s a date then,” she said with a small smile.
“Still, I wish you’d have come to my graduation party. It was a heck of a blow-out.”
“Me too,” Chloe said sadly. “I’m proud of you, by the way. Education is important. I never really finished my degree.”
“What?” Richie raised an eyebrow at that.
“My college got wrecked during the whole Dark Thursday thing. By the time they rebuilt and resumed classes, I’d gotten far enough up the ladder at the Daily Planet that having a journalism degree was a little bit superfluous. Maybe someday I’ll go back.” She snorted. “If I’m being tailed by Savage’s goons like I think I am, it might be funny to make them sit around, trying to blend in to a college campus while I fit in classes between stories.”
They ordered dinner, and as the food came out - shrimp po’-boys, with sides of rice and corn - they talked about general things. Eventually the conversation returned to Vandal Savage.
“So now, with this psycho watching you, what are you going to do?” Richie asked.
“I’ve been offered an assignment - one that I think I can do some real good for others at. Both as a Metahuman, and a reporter. Plus, I doubt Savage’s goons would follow me.” And it will probably keep Dean from wondering why I haven’t been in touch with him. She silently amended.
“What is it?” Richie looked intrigued.
“You know about the earthquakes in Gotham, right?”
“Yeah?”
“My sources say that the government doesn’t plan to rebuild. They’re just going to blow the bridges, and declare the whole island a no-man’s land.
Richie blinked at that. “They didn’t even do that to New Orleans.”
“Well, The Big Easy is still connected to land. Gotham is an island. And it’s always been a politician’s nightmare. Corruption, Metahuman psychos like The Joker, urban decay. Who would want to rebuild that?”
“And you’re going in?” Richie looked troubled at that.
“Before they blow up the bridges. Gotham has its share of folks who are going to try and stick it out. My paper wants to send me in with a sat phone to report from the inside. It’s the perfect solution really. I can’t get hurt, and I can help others. Especially once the medical supplies start to run out. Plus, I can keep people on the outside aware of what’s going on. And if Savage’s goons follow me, I’ll be able to spot them and keep them away.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought,” Richie said.
“I have.”
“Then - I guess it’s no use changing your mind.” He sighed reluctantly.
“I appreciate that,” She nodded feeling a deep pit of despair finally close. Richie’s approval and acceptance meant a lot more to her than she’d realized. “Your respect has always meant a lot to me, Richie.”
“Thanks Chloe, I’ve . . . your friendship has been important to me, too.” A sudden thought lit his eyes, sending him scrambling for a pen and a handy napkin. He hastily scrawled a series of numbers across the soft paper, and then handed it to her. “Here.”
“What’s this?” Chloe looked at the paper curiously.
“It’s the number to an old friend.”
“And when you say old, you mean . . .”
“He’s probably about 4,000 years. And he’s also probably the deadliest immortal around. He changes names a lot so I don’t know what he’ll be calling himself if you finally do call but mention my name and I’m sure he’ll give you whatever help you need.”
“Oh,” Chloe blinked. “Richie, I can’t --”
Her words were cut off when Richie placed a finger to her lips. “The way I figure it, if this Savage guy is as old and deadly as you think he is, you’re going to need an ally at least as old and deadly. You don’t have to call him now, but if you hit a point that your back is against a wall, give him a ring.”
“I’ll . . . I’ll hang onto his number. But no guarantees that I’ll call him.”
“That’s all I’m asking, Chloe.”
The rest of the meal proceeded in silence. Richie mentally kicked himself for not knowing the words to make Chloe stay. Dean might have made her listen. But then again, he hadn’t been that successful with her the first time she’d left, so Richie kind of doubted he’d be any more successful this time.
Chloe was her own woman. A stubborn one. And he was beginning to see that once she’d made up her mind, there was no changing it. With a sinking heart, he waved their waitress over to pay for the tab. They got up, and walked toward the exit.
“You know, it’s going to be hard not having you around.”
“I’m always as close as the front page of the paper,” Chloe laughed.
Richie shrugged. “Gonna’ be hard to think of you without thinking you’re the one that got away.”
“You make me sound like a large mouth bass.” She giggled nervously as she felt the nearness of him
In response, Richie pulled her close and kissed her. He had no illusions that a kiss from him would magically change her mind but he wasn’t going to let her leave again without at least letting her know how much he cared.
He pulled back, and gave her a sad smile. “I like your mouth.”
Chloe returned his sad smile with one of her own. She bowed her head, and pushed her hair behind her ears in a bid to avoid looking at his face . “I’ll . . . see you in a hundred years then,” she said.
“Yeah,” Richie nodded. As he watched her gather her purse and coat, and then head for the exit, the music changed from the lively zydeco to a more sedate New Orleans Jazz rendition of As Time Goes By.
She stopped at the door to turn and blow a kiss his way, before turning and walking out into the rainy Seacouver night.
Richie watched her leave as he mentally sang along with the song. The fundamental things apply . . . as time goes by.