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Smallville Uncut: Clark & Chloe

It was almost as though the fa__ade he'd managed to successfully keep up all evening now forced its way up and out through the path of least resistance; in this case, that was his eyes; and then that sorrow exited, left his body in a stream of unwanted but unstoppable water works. Finally accepting he wasn't going to be able to prevent himself from crying in bed all night long, Jack sat up, crept from his side of bed carefully, careful, careful not to wake up the lightly snoring Mavis.

He wasn't sure what he'd do. Maybe make some warm milk? Sometimes that helped him sleep, the tryptophan launching peacefully from the heated milk molecules while they seeped down his throat and then into his blood stream. On his way to the kitchen, he paused to look at the Christmas tree. Though he'd felt certain he'd turned off the lights himself before he and Mavis turned in, here it was, all lit up again and sparkling. Even still, it was pretty through the soft glow of his tears. Stupid tears. What would Mavis say if she ever saw!? He was barely even a man anymore but some washed out, insufferable mouse, or at least he felt that way around her. There were times now when he felt he barely knew Mavis, their marriage had become so lonely. It'd been months, so many he'd lost count, since they'd had sex, and the bored look in her eyes after she pecked him on the cheek now and then cut right through him.

It was during this torrent of sad thoughts that Jack noticed, to his surprise, the lit Christmas tree was actually moving! One of the branches on it's left side shook. Ornaments glistened and wobbled as did a far string of lights. Was he dreaming? Was he losing his mind? Wiping his tired eyes he suddenly observed that all this time, someone had been watching him. Somebody was lurking hidden just behind the tree, and in fact, a shadowy figure now slowly came from back there.

First an arm stretched out, a little arm, slim but substantial, and then a small hand...then a body followed, long haired in its silhouette; and then legs, a pelvis, two small feet. What was going on!? He was having delusions, had to be, otherwise, well...it looked like right here in his living room a young woman had fully emerged from behind his Christmas tree.

Jack had never seen this person before in his life. He backed up, startled, muttering, "Who the hell are you?" Quickly, almost terrifyingly fast, the young woman moved toward him, deliberately, placed her right index finger over Jack's mouth and stared urgently at him.

Looking into her face only inches from his and dimly lit by the Christmas lights, Jack found him self peering into the most eerily beautiful eyes he had ever seen. These were young eyes, belonging to a thirty year old, maybe, but they seemed sort of...otherworldly, not really placeable by age the way most people's eyes were. Their color felt difficult to put into words: blue and green, but not really, and not even like the sea...like the green of a lake maybe, one he'd visited as a little boy in the summer, when the pine trees reflected in it, when his mother had let him lay in her lap and sometimes stroked his hair absently while she chatted with a friend. It flew in waves under the sun, the color of the young woman's eyes. She said, "Shhhh," and indicated to him he should remain still, and then, and then, as though nothing he did could prevent what was about to happen, this strange unexpected person who'd appeared in his living room began kissing him. For a moment Jack did nothing. His mouth felt like a cave, vacant, forgotten. He resisted then---he was, after all, confronted with an intruder in the house-who was this?! And besides, he was married.

Even so, his resistance quickly softened.

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