Chloe had eventually drifted out of her long since lost memories and back into the conversation, with the help of Bruce, who as usual had come to rescue her from her inarticulate feelings she got around all the other Nobel Prize and Pulitzer winners who were congregated here for yet another of his all mighty charity balls. It seemed he had paid off a couple of bands…including…She gasped as she saw what was undoubtedly all the 4 band members Lifehouse stood in a group talking to what seemed to be The All American Rejects.
Her eyes fell on Lois, who looked exactly as she always had, only dressed in formal wear and with darker hair. She waved, but dropped her hand with a small grunt of annoyance as her cousin turned away without seeing and engaged in an animated conversation with a tall, dark haired guy with glasses. She thought the way he stood was vaguely familiar, but shook her head and snorted with laughter in her throat at the thought, turning back and, on request, told one of the crowd about her early days, when she had worked in Metropolis at the Planet, writing obituaries and small two-bit articles about the Green Arrow.
But half way through her story, when she had got to the part where she’d left Metropolis to fulfil her true potential in Gotham, a large, solid someone crashed into the back of her, and she would fallen forward if not for the hands that gripped her delicate boned shoulders, keeping her upright and steady. She faintly heard whoever it was try to apologise, and tried wrenching her shoulders free so she could see his face, but with put out surprise noticed that she couldn’t. Physically couldn’t. She stood perfectly still, blissfully unaware of her ‘captor’s inner turmoil.
When the hands finally let go she spun around, resettling her filmy purple shawl that matched her twilight-toned silken dress, resettling her semi-precious stone tiara among the soft curls of piled molten gold. Fully straightened, she looked up into the face of the dorky-looking guy Lois had been talking to. Thunder clapped into her head and her lips parted, her mouth falling slightly open. It couldn’t be. But as her emerald green eyes looked up into the guy’s aquamarine, she thought she at least had to voice her thought aloud.
“Clark?!”
