Notes: A missing scene occurring in the summer between "Tempest" and "Vortex," and my first (and probably only) attempt at Chloe/Whitney. And it even fits into canon! Story mine, characters not. Please don't sue. Feedback is appreciated.

For a friend who said she wouldn't mind gratuitous kissing. ;)

"Serendipity"

It was, Chloe concluded later, just dumb luck. Yeah, dumb luck, and maybe an overload of caffeine. It was an incredible coincidence that she had chosen to come back to Smallville on the same weekend that Whitney Fordman was on leave from the Marines. More of the same dumb luck occurring when almost everyone was out of town or inadvertently unavailable: Lana at equestrian camp, Pete Ross and the rest of the football team at camp in Wichita; Clark Kent and his entire family were busy every day of the harvest. Besides, Chloe had no intention of contacting him when he had yet to reply to a single e-mail of hers.

More luck brought Chloe to the Beanery on Friday afternoon. It was more quiet in there now, a better place to sit and watch the world go by, as opposed to the Talon, which didn't even have windows looking out and was usually too noisy for introspective concentration.

The Beanery was across the street from Fordman's Department Store, where Whitney had dropped off his mother. By chance and by habit he had glanced in the direction of the Beanery. He recognized Chloe Sullivan's blonde head bowed over a laptop through the window and decided to say hi.

With the entire football team gone, Whitney didn't have many people to hang out with that weekend. He and Chloe ordered seven cups of coffee between them and talked for a full two hours before Whitney suggested the drive-in.

Chloe looked a little surprised at the invitation, but he seemed different: just the slightest bit more daring than she remembered, and at the same time, less cocky. She accepted. They dropped off her car at home and headed for the Grandville Drive-In. They were showing "Back to the Future" but neither of them really cared. They talked all throughout the ride getting there.

She was surprised even more at Whitney's gregariousness, and told him so. He said there weren't many people to talk to, not many people who understood him. And letters couldn't talk back.

In the Marines, Whitney said, he kept to himself. Chloe, surprising herself this time, empathized with him. He was in a new environment and out of his element, and he was lonely. Chloe certainly knew how that felt.

Whitney was a pro at the drive-in. He parked his truck backwards so that they could spread blankets out in the truck bed. In a sea of strangers they were more at ease with each other, laughing and teasing as if they were old friends instead of barely acquaintances. Chloe noticed how Whitney had an easy, laid-back laugh if she told the right joke.

When the movie started they kicked off their shoes and munched on popcorn and candy. When Chloe talked back to the screen, Whitney pelted her with popcorn kernels and Raisinets to make her stop. They laughed.

They had a great time.

Chloe doesn't remember exactly how the kissing started. She remembers snuggling under the blanket, their arms and thighs touching despite the humid summer night, but she doesn't know how they got from there to kissing. Chloe liked to kiss, and so, it seemed, did Whitney. He held her face gently but firmly and took control, licking popcorn butter and salt off her upper lip. He pulled back slightly as if to get her permission, but she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him back to her mouth.

The movie was forgotten.

When the drive-in closed, they got back in the truck cab. They were both silent during the ride. Chloe thought he was driving her home, angry, but Whitney drove out to the very end of Hickory Lane, just between the Kent and Potter farms. He wasn't angry at all. In fact, he voiced how much he enjoyed being with her.

They climbed into the back again and kissed, moaned, their legs tangled in the blankets and their hands touching bare, perspiring skin under each other's clothes. Whitney's fingertips were cool against Chloe's stomach as he drew circles around her belly button. She sighed with contentment, and Whitney kissed her neck.

They kissed with a furious pace, as if they both knew it would never happen again. They kissed as if they were out for revenge, making out within a stone's throw of both Clark's and Lana's houses. At the time she figured that's where most teenagers went to make out. Later Chloe wondered about whether Whitney had chosen the dirt path deliberately in a subconscious attempt to get caught by one or both.

They had talked only briefly about the two – Chloe mentioning nonchalantly in the Beanery that there was no future between herself and the flannel-clad Boy Scout; he hadn't even written all summer. Whitney's expression had drooped a little bit at that revelation. To his credit, he didn't ask why. Instead, he mentioned that Lana was an attentive letter-writer, and Chloe, being the recipient of Lana's e-mails all summer, had concurred. He made a comment that Chloe would muse over heavily later: that Lana was a perfect long-distance girlfriend. She wondered why he had added the qualifier of "long-distance." He mentioned, though, that he knew she was drifting away. But he would hold on to her for as long as she let him. Chloe had felt sorry for him and said so, but he told her not to be. She had nodded and changed the subject tactfully.

But now, they kissed with their eyes closed, even under the dark Kansas sky. Chloe was scared of the consequences of looking him in the eye. Would she see guilt there? Would she see her own guilt reflected back at her?

When their kissing waned, they leaned against the side of the truck to stare at the stars together without saying a word. A flash of telltale headlights passed over them, and Whitney instinctively pushed Chloe down, covering her body with his. He peered over the side and recognized Nell Potter's SUV. They laughed nervously when her lights had disappeared around the bend, and Chloe made a joke about Whitney learning to keep his head down at boot camp.

Instead of laughing, Whitney grew somber.

He told her that there was a good chance he would be shipped out to Indonesia soon. Chloe's heart jumped into her throat, and she placed her hand on top of his. She let him take his time to talk about it. He had come back to say goodbye to Lana. He hadn't called ahead, and he would probably drive in to Metropolis in the morning to see her. He told Chloe that he had a bad feeling about shipping out, and though she argued vehemently for him not to think of it that way, he was adamant. He didn't want to go; he regretted his decision to join the Marines now, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Chloe saw a determination in his eyes that she both admired and feared.

She didn't try to comfort him, only told him to be careful, and to come back safely.

Whitney drove her home and it was nearly one in the morning. He thanked her for hanging out with him. He didn't mention the kissing, and she didn't either, but they were both thinking it, still avoiding each other's gaze. Instead he made a cryptic remark about how it felt good to be with someone who didn't have to be perfect all the time, someone who just lived in the moment instead of thinking about what other people thought.

Chloe didn't reply. When they were in her driveway, she pulled him into a hug and held him there for a while. She was good at hugs – she only knew how to show her affection and concern for people in two ways: sarcasm and hugs. For a brief moment as she walked up the path to her front door, she thought of how she had never thought she would hug Whitney Fordman.

Other than Lana's video letter, Chloe didn't contact Whitney after that Friday night. She was scared to. She didn't want to talk about what had happened between them, and she didn't know what else they could talk about.

Months later, she stood behind Lana at Whitney's funeral and let the tears slip down her cheeks silently. She didn't say anything. She felt like she didn't have a right to grieve because their one night of knowing each other for all intents and purposes wasn't supposed to happen – as far as everyone knew, didn't happen.

Her father drove them home in silence, with Lana weeping noisily in the backseat.

When they got home, Chloe locked the door to her room, turned the stereo up as loud as she dared, and cried openly for the first time since she had received the news of his death. She let herself remember that Friday night this past summer, how he had held her, kissed her fearlessly, and the way his nose felt on her cheek as he inhaled and said her name.

It was just dumb luck, that entire Friday night; it could have been lifted out of both of their lives without changing much. Well, not very much on the outside. But Chloe would remember it forever. Whitney Fordman taught her how to feel, reminded her to live in the moment. To remember to listen to her instincts, as he had failed to do. And for that she was thankful.

- Fin – 04.05.03