Notes: This is going to archive a series of drabbles I wrote/am writing for Defying Mythos's Chloe Sullivan Drabble Tag. They are unrelated; sometimes bloody, sometimes tragic, sometimes dirty, connected by the simple fact that I find the situations and ship compelling.
First up, Plastique. Davis goes back for Chloe at Isis.
They don't mean anything, premonitions.
Davis Bloome is her eerily appearing paramedic friend. He's the one who caught her as she tumbled into a fall over the steps, sweat condensing on the back of her neck as Bette's eyes shot careening flames. There has to be an unwritten communication between lost, lonely kids, because somehow, Chloe's alive and Bette's locked away in the best place for the meteor infected money can get her.
Like any aware, sensitive new age man, Davis makes her tea. He pours and there's something about the way he does it, his whole hand around the handle, the other hand keeping it steady… Davis holds her eyes a little too deeply and the cup overspills, a few drops of green liquid burning at his skin. Chloe's fingers close over the teacup with the barest rattle.
Davis is on the cusp of saying something but doesn't. She does not quite understand what she feels in regards to him, like they have a future behind them already heavy with the weight of love and aching loss. Maybe she's nervous still, but she asks him to stay the night.
Would love to know if somebody's reading!