Author's Note...

This is an old story that I have resurrected. It wasn't near perfect, and still isn't. Kaitlyn used to be a Mary-Sue, but I hope that I was able to save her from that hell. Also, one of the major plot points is not my favorite, but I couldn't take it out without the whole story collapsing (like Janga Blocks).
Kaitlyn does not equal me. If I were her, I'd probably shoot myself, the reason being this:
This story involves rape, which is the plot point I wanted out... but if I post more, you'll see why I couldn't get rid of it.
If Kaitlyn seems like a total slut, don't worry, she won't always be like this. It's just her "before" character.
I don't cuss, so if a swear word would sound better there, it probably belongs there. I just censored it.
If you're still interested after reading all that crap, have fun!

Setting: Smallville, Season 2
Rating: Teen
Introduction Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville or any related characters. I made up a few character and the plot, but I'm not making any money off of it, so don't sue. Thanks!

Kaitlyn Grant was glad it was Friday. School was out, and she was ready for the weekend. Brooke Bell skipped to her side, red-brown curls bouncing around her shoulders and a large smile on her face. "We need to have a sleepover tonight," she said.

She nodded in agreement and answered, "Of course! I so need a break from the parents. How soon can I come over?" The idea of a sleepover was brilliant. Chick flicks, junk food, guy talk, gossip, and a late night was exactly what she needed after a boring week of school.

"Oh, anytime's fine. Just make sure it's before ten, because my dad will be seriously mad if you come after his bedtime." Brooke rolled her eyes. Her Gucci purse began vibrating, and she dug out a cell phone.

Seriously, who in Smallville has money for that purse? Only Luthors and Bells, Kaitlyn thought. "Who's it from?"

"Text from…ooh! James! Hey, I'll see you later." And Brooke slipped into the crowd, texting a response to her boyfriend.

Kaitlyn jumped a bit when someone tapped her shoulder. She turned to see John, the whitest black boy she had ever met. She smiled flirtatiously. "Hey, John."

"Hi Kate. Um, about my question at lunch--"

Kaitlyn cut him off with kiss. When she pulled away, John's eyes were as wide as saucers. She smiled again.

"So I'll take that as a yes? We're officially going out?"

"I'll consider it," Kaitlyn said, combing through her dark brown hair with her fingers while she cocked her head to the side. Guys like girls who play hard to get. "I have to go, John, but I'll see you at the bonfire tomorrow night." She flipped her hair and started towards the door.

"Yeah, okay," he called after her.

TGIF, Kaitlyn thought, pulling out her pink phone to leave a message on the answering machine at home.

--

She pulled her Honda into the driveway and parked. She was already planning a list of things she'd need. Pillow, blanket, pajamas, toothbrush, underwear, shirt, jeans, deodorant, and a hairbrush.

When Kaitlyn opened the front door, she heard the answering machine beeping, alerting the empty house that someone had called. She knew what message was waiting. Her own voice, explaining to her parents where she was. "Hey, Mom and Dad, I'm at Brooke's house. I'll be back home around…noon? Tomorrow. Yup, I'll see you then. Call my cell if you have questions. Bye!"

She climbed the carpeted stairs to her room. Kaitlyn piled her things on her bed before digging through her messy closet for a duffle bag. She was out the door in minutes, already planning out how she would tell Brooke about her kiss with John.

She cranked the radio as her favorite song came on the radio. It was so catchy… When she stopped at a traffic light, the middle-aged woman waiting in the next lane frowned and rolled up her window. Kaitlyn giggled and started bobbing her head to the beat. Old people never would understand her generation's love of music.

She pulled up to the Bell's house, which was almost big enough to be a mansion, and admired it. The huge white house belonged in Beverly Hills, not hick-town Smallville. If she'd told Brooke this once, she'd told her a hundred times.

The door opened almost at the exact second she rang the doorbell. Brooke smiled, her amber eyes shining bright. "What took you so long, girl? I've been dying to tell you what James texted me!"

"It took me, what, a half hour for me to get here? That's a record, you know!" Kaitlyn said. "Wait, what about James?"

Brooke squealed. "Let's go to my room. I'll tell you up there." The girls took the steps of the large spiral staircase two at a time. Brooke's bedroom was painted purple and never clean. Clothes and papers littered the floor, a television sat atop her dresser.

Brooke sat down on the side of her unmade bed, looking like she was about to burst. "Okay, James texted me, and he says his family is coming back to visit Smallville next weekend!" She squealed. "Isn't that great? I haven't seen him since June!"

"You mean James as in moved-to-New York-James? Cool! I'm amazed you two kept up the long-distance relationship!" Kaitlyn tried to show enthusiasm. She had never been good friends with James.

"Yeah, I'm surprised myself." Brooke turned the conversation around on her friend. "So…are you and John going out yet?"

Kaitlyn's eyes lit up. "Not yet. Gave him a taste of what it will be like to be my boyfriend--he'll be dreaming all weekend."

"Ooh, this sounds good! Spill!!" her friend demanded.

"While you were off texting James, I kissed John. You should have seen his eyes...huge! And his mouth was just hanging open like he was retarded!" Kaitlyn laughed. "He's a good kisser, though. That's a plus…"

"Why couldn't I have been there to see it?" Brooke whined.

"Well, there's that bonfire tomorrow. I could kiss him again there."

Brooke gasped. "That's right! I completely forgot about it! Oh, wait…" She frowned. "Sorry, can't go to that. Mom's tired of me partying every weekend."

Kaitlyn shrugged. "Well, then I guess I won't be kissing him for a while. Too bad, I enjoyed it…."

--

It was after ten, and Kaitlyn and Brooke were planning to raid the freezer for ice cream. "Dad's already in bed, and Mom probably is, too. We can't wake either—Dad had a meeting with Lionel Luthor this evening, and the man always makes him real mad," Brooke explained as they tip-toed to the kitchen.

"Ew! That creepy old dude with the hippie hair?" Kaitlyn exclaimed. She turned into the doorway and gasped. "Um…I mean…that nice man with the lovely hair?" She turned an unnatural shade of red, about to burst out laughing.

For in the kitchen stood Lionel Luthor, lips pursed and bushy eyebrows raised. He was drinking a glass of wine, as was Mrs. Bell. "Well, thank you for the compliment," he said wryly.

"I'm going back upstairs," Kaitlyn choked out before hurriedly exiting. Brooke followed, both coughing to cover their laughter. Once Brooke shut her room door, the two doubled over and couldn't speak for the next two minutes. Kaitlyn was only able to calm down a bit when she felt like she was about to throw up. Her sides ached—she wondered if she had a six-pack yet.

"Oh my word!" Brooke exclaimed, still chuckling. "That was amazing Katie! I'm so proud of you, I'll let you have the mocha ice cream once we steal it."

Kaitlyn smacked her head with the palm of her hand. "We should have recorded that or something." She wrinkled her brow and looked at Brooke thoughtfully. "Wait, what was Luthor doing in the kitchen with your mom?"

Brooke shrugged. "Who knows? Who cares? You just made a fool of yourself in front of the most powerful person in the Midwest!"

After another short fit of giggles, Kaitlyn said, "I need to calm down; put in some sad movie." The blush had not faded from her face, and she concentrated on willing the blood back to the rest of her body.

"Go pick one out. Walk to Remember is good," Brooke said, still struggling to keep a straight face. Her Chihuahua was yipping in confusion, wondering why his mistress was making such strange noises. The dog only made her laugh harder.

--

"Now I'm really hungry," Kaitlyn complained towards the end of the movie. "Go find the ice cream."

"I'm not gonna go get anything! You're the one who's hungry!"

"But it's your house," Kaitlyn countered.

"And you practically live here anyhow." Brooke settled a bit farther into her pink beanbag chair to emphasize that she wasn't going anywhere.

"Fine," Kaitlyn grumbled. "What kind do you want?"

Brooke didn't take her eyes off the screen. "Bring me the mint chocolate."

Kaitlyn sneaked down the stairs. She heard someone, two people actually, in the kitchen. She raised an eyebrow in confusion before continuing into the room. Mrs. Bell was giggling and trying to take off Mr. Luthor's tie. An empty bottle of wine lay on its side on the counter. A half-full glass stood next to it, as did an empty one.

"…go upstairs?" Lionel was asking. This whole scenario is just messed up. She opened her mouth and tried to clear her throat, it came out as a gag.

Both heads turned to look at her. Mrs. Bell's eyes were unfocused and slightly bloodshot. Mr. Luthor didn't look the least bit drunk.

"Um…" Brooke's mother slurred. "I'm just gonna go now…" She brushed past Kaitlyn, teetering a little. Her breath smelled like wine. Definitely drunk.

Lionel remained where he stood in the middle of the kitchen. Kaitlyn cocked her head and frowned. "Really, Mr. Luthor? Taking advantage of your competitor's wife while she's drunk? I didn't know billionaires could sink this low."

"You'd be surprised," he replied.

Ew, even his voice is nasty. "You aren't even drunk, are you? You do realize that's called rape?" Kaitlyn walked to the freezer and began searching its shelves for the ice cream. "Or were you just planning on getting information out of her about Bell Industries? Trying to eliminate the competition?"

She turned to face him and wrinkled her nose, holding a half-gallon carton in her hand. "That's just sick! Who even likes Pistachio ice cream?" She threw it at the old man. "Do all of mankind a favor and throw that out." Only then did she realize just how off-topic that was.

Lionel chuckled as he turned the carton in his hands, examining it. "Smart girl…" he said. "I'd hate to see something happen to you. Especially if you were to, oh, tell someone about this." He glanced up, raising his eyebrows.

Kaitlyn pulled out the mocha ice cream out of the freezer in triumph. "Ooh, scary threat. I'll do what I want, and you can't stop me." She went back to work searching for the mint chocolate chip. "Creeper," she muttered to herself, not expecting Luthor to hear it.

He dropped the container of pistachio ice cream into the open waste bin. "Creeper?" he asked, sniffing disdainfully. "Now that, that's offensive."

"And what you were doing two minutes ago wasn't?"

Silence. "Let's make a deal," Lionel said. "If you want to see 'creepy,' go ahead and tell whoever you like. The Daily Planet, the Inquisitor, Michael Bell. But if I were you, I…why, I'd keep quiet."

She closed the freezer door and stacked the two half-gallon ice creams in her arms. "I think it's time for you leave." She pointed at the clock above the sink. "11:30, and everyone's asleep. It won't help your case."

She didn't turn around as she climbed the stairs. A few seconds later, though, she heard the door close. Good riddance.

"What took you so long?" Brook asked, reaching for her ice cream. "I thought you might have just eaten it all down there!"

"Well, have you seen your freezer?" Kaitlyn responded, sitting down in her bean bag chair. "It's huge! I could get lost in there." She realized something was wrong the moment Brooke said it.

"You forgot spoons!" Brooke frowned in mock anger.

Kaitlyn grinned and shrugged. "Your turn to go down. I'm guessing you won't get lost."

Brooke stuck her tongue out and left the room. While the characters onscreen went on with their dramatic lives, Kaitlyn was mulling over this twist life had thrown at her. She knew she could get money for giving the scoop to a magazine, and she needed money. Should she tell the Daily Planet? Nah, it's not a tabloid. The Inquisitor's a rag, but some people believe it…

And should she tell Brooke? Mr. Bell? Would Mrs. Bell even remember this tomorrow? Kaitlyn's head spun. So many different variables… She knew for sure that the truth needed to be told, and Luthor needed to deal with some consequences.

Well, why not just wait for the Bells to read the paper and find out for themselves? It would save Kaitlyn from any awkward conversations with them, anyhow. Yeah, that'll work.

Author's Note: Is it worth reading? I'll only post more if people like it. Reviews (praise, criticism, and flames) are welcome.