Welcome to My Chlollie World...

Welcome to my blog. I've created it mainly as a place to archive my writings. Currently, my focus is on the pairing of Chloe Sullivan/Oliver Queen of Smallville, also affectionately known in fandom, as Chlollie. I began writing for this couple as Smallville entered it's seventh season, not ever really expecting them to become Smallville canon. So imagine my pleasant surprise (okay, I squealed like a fangirl in the throes of a fangasm) when the showrunners decided to put them together. I don't know what the show will do with them, but I don't care. I'll always adore them, and Chlollie will ALWAYS be my One True Pairing. I write about them for fun, as creative outlet, and because I think they're perfect together, and have the potential to be a supercouple, comic-book "mythos" be damned. The Green Arrow of Smallville belongs with his Watchtower. Most of my stories contain adult content, so please don't read if you are under the age of 18. All story graphic arts and manips are created by me unless otherwise stated. Feedback is always welcome. Thank you for reading!

And now for the boring stuff so no one sues me. Feel free to read it in that fast talking lawyer kind of voice, like at the end of a radio commercial.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Final note: I never believed in the years that I've loved this couple, that the show would do the right thing by them. But as a fangirl I just have to say, OMGOMGOMG! THEY ARE MARRIED!!! Thank you, Smallville for giving my couple the happy ending they deserve!

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Anything But Ordinary Chapter 18

Anything But Ordinary
Chapter 18

“How are you feeling?”

Davis sat up in bed at the sound of Tess’s voice from the doorway, a wary expression on his face. “Better, thanks.” He’d been housed at the facility for over a week, had undergone a myriad of tests, and had been practicing, calling upon the beast at will. He’d found it quite easy to call upon the creature. It was more difficult however to turn it off. One doctor had been killed, and the lab nearly destroyed not two days ago. Guards had shot him, but he’d recovered and grown stronger from it. So strong, that now bullets barely slowed him down.

Doctors had discovered that carefully controlled dosages of a serum infused with kryptonite allowed Davis to rein in the creature and release it at will. It took several attempts, but they’d finally found the correct amount needed, and thus far Tess’s plan was moving along smoothly.

Tess moved casually toward the window, lifting the shade. Davis squinted against the light and turned his head away. The sunlight was merely a reminder of another day spent here. He had to leave. The time was now. Tess stepped near his hospital bed, but remained at the foot, too hesitant to actually get much closer. She hid her fear well, but Davis could smell it on her skin, hear it in her unsteady breathing, almost feel it emanating from her every pore. He imagined this heightened sense of awareness about others had something to do with the predator within. “The doctors say you’re improving. That you’re able to control it better.”

He shrugged. “I suppose.” He didn’t want to discuss it, but had another pressing subject on his mind. “Where’s Chloe?”

Her lips curved in a brief smile. He’d been asking about Chloe for days, and somehow had known she was at the facility the night of the escape. Tess couldn’t imagine how he’d known, and had wondered over the possible connection between Davis Bloom, and the petite blonde. She knew they were friends, but Davis appeared to have some abnormal, inexplicable attachment. “Ms. Sullivan is well guarded. Oliver Queen is keeping his precious possession under wraps.”

Davis eyes darkened, a combination of jealousy and rage building in him. Tess thought she saw a flash of red, light his eyes.

She tipped her head thoughtfully, running a finger along the cool stainless steel frame of the bedpost. “You know about them, then?” When his only answer was a deep scowl, she continued, her voice smooth and taunting. “She’s been staying with him at his penthouse.” Tess moved closer; her steps slow and deliberate, as was her voice. “Sleeps in the same bed with him too, I imagine.” Davis clenched the sheets beneath him in his fists. “Calls his name… wakes up in his arms…”

“I get it!” Davis snapped, flipping off the covers, rising from the bed. He brushed past her to the closet, retrieving his clothes, shaking them free of their hangers. He began removing his hospital gown, heedless of her presence.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m leaving.”

“You can’t leave now, we’ve only just begun to make progress,” Tess balked.

“I need to see Chloe,” he mumbled, slipping on his pants, then reaching for his shirt.


“Try and make me stay.”

“You need that serum in order to control the creature within you.”

Davis continued buttoning his shirt. “Maybe I don’t need controlling, Ms. Mercer.”

“We both know that you do. How do you know that the beast inside you won’t kill her?”

“I know I won’t.”

“You can’t be certain.”

“I am. And I’m leaving.”

“No,” Tess said firmly, forgetting herself for a moment reaching and grasping his forearm as he stepped toward the opened door.

Davis spun, his eyes glowing red momentarily, causing Tess to gasp and take a faltering step backward. “She’s ready now. I have to see her.”

“What do you mean, she’s ready?”

“She’s ready for me. Her body is ready. It’s time.”

“You’d better start making sense, Davis. Because you’re not leaving here until you do.”

“If any of this made sense, I wouldn’t be here in the first place.” Davis looked away, as though he could find the answers written on the wall in the distant corner of the room. “All I know is that I have to find her. I don’t know why. Call it instinct, call it whatever you’d like.” Davis pinned her with a menacing look, daring her to stop him. “I’m out of here.”

* * * * * * * *

She stood at the counter in front of the coffee pot, trying to stifle a yawn as she waited for the last drops of dark, aromatic brew to fill up the pot. Just as she reached for the handle, Oliver stepped up behind her quietly, slipping his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him. The warmth and strength of his body at her back had Chloe smiling, tipping her head to the side giving his nuzzling better access as his lips brushed the edge of her ear, sending shivers up her spine. “Good morning,” he whispered.

“It won’t be a good morning if I accidentally burn you with hot coffee, sleepy head,” she purred, sliding the decanter back into its place.

“Let’s stay in bed all day, and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”

Chloe turned in his arms, smiling up at him playfully, placing her hands on his bare chest, caressing him. Since that first night together, and over the past few days and nights in between researching Davis Bloom, Tess Mercer, and coming up with a plan for dealing with them, Chloe and Oliver had been exploring and learning each other’s bodies. Her palms seemed to move without conscious thought over the now familiar hard contours and muscles, fingers sliding over his neck and broad shoulders. She marveled at his hardness; the way his body felt against hers. She loved touching him. She craved him. “We did that yesterday, remember?”

Oliver kissed the tip of her nose, half growling, half laughing; he pulled her even closer. He didn’t want to contemplate anything other than her right now. Didn’t want to consider what lay ahead. They had work to do, but for the first time in his life, Oliver was deathly afraid, unsure of the outcome. He kept it to himself, not wanting to worry her any more than she already was. He wanted to prolong these moments with her for as long as possible. They’d disagreed over the plan; the one they’d devised was far from foolproof, but if it meant keeping Chloe safe, and finally ridding themselves of the threat of Davis Bloom, he was willing to go on a little faith. Just… not yet. He didn’t want to let her go yet, not now. Not when he’d finally found her, after he’d been too blind to see that she’d been in front of him all along.


“Hmm,” he murmured, as his lips moved over her cheek, pressing soft, warm, drugging, kisses. His hands wandered down her spine over the lush curves of her body through her tank top, fingers slipping inside the elastic rim of her pajama bottoms. He marveled at her softness; the way her body felt against his. He loved touching her. He craved her.

“He’s coming for me. Soon.”

Oliver lifted his head, searching her eyes. There was no need to ask who ‘he’ was. “How do you know this?” His caressing hands stilled on her body and then his arms tightened around her, as though he’d never let go, as though the sheer act of holding her closer would keep her safe from Bloom.

Worry creased her brow. “I don’t know how I know. I just do.”

He tipped her chin up with his fingers. “I won’t let him take you, Chloe.”

She gazed up into dark eyes, full of love; so determined in his resolve to keep her safe from Davis. She hadn’t the will to disagree, though she knew if he were ever up against the beast in Davis Bloom, there’d be no chance for him. Oliver would be killed, and there’d be no way for her to bring him back from death this time. She offered him a small, reassuring smile. “I know you won’t.” But no matter what he did, Davis or his creature incarnate would take her away, and there was nothing Oliver could do about it if their plan didn’t work. She divined that something in him knew this too, and when his arms tightened around her, she sensed his near desperation under the calm façade.

“Let’s go away. Get out of here, where he won’t ever find you…”

“You know we can’t do that.”

“I don’t like this, Chloe. Not one bit.”

“It’s the only way, Oliver. There is no door number two, it’s our only option.”


“It’ll be fine, Oliver. I know what I’m doing.”

Oliver’s eyes probed hers, and then drifted over her face. “What are you not telling me, Chloe?”

“Trust me, Ollie. This has to work.” At his worried, skeptical look, she continued. “The team will be here, right? They’ve been keeping an eye on the facility where Davis is housed. They’ll have our backs. Clark will be there. Everything will be fine.” She blinked, then turned her smile up a notch in an effort to cover her own doubts, her own fears. No matter what happened, she’d protect Oliver at any cost. Slipping her fingers into the hair at his nape, she pulled him down, her parted lips meeting his, wishing she could kiss away his concerns.

“I won’t let him take you,” he breathed in between kisses that grew increasingly fevered and frantic. Oliver slipped his hands further inside her pajama pants, pushing them down over the curve of her bottom, grasping her rounded flesh as he did so. Chloe felt them brush over her legs and pool around her ankles. She kicked one foot out of the loose pants as he lifted her, carrying her effortlessly to the sofa.

Oliver lowered her onto the cushions, pinning her beneath his hard, aching body. “He won’t,” she sighed, barely able to speak; his kisses leaving her breathless, ravishing her with lips and teeth and tongue. Yet at the same time, an inner torment began to gnaw at her. She wouldn’t let Oliver be hurt or killed trying to protect her from Davis. She had to protect him.

Keeping her safe had become his obsession. Davis was coming for her she’d said. Soon. How she knew this didn’t matter, Oliver believed her, but he knew she was his, and he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her or take her from him. All at once, a sudden sense of urgency flooded, coursing through him, and Oliver never wanted anything more in his life, as much as he wanted to bury himself deep inside her. Stunned by the force of need pulsating through his blood, he freed himself from the confines of boxer-briefs “I won’t let you go…” he guided himself, and sank deeply within her body; restless, impatient, and a little rough. They both shuddered, each of them drawing in fast, harsh breaths.

Hearing the desperation in his voice, Chloe couldn’t deny him. She whimpered breathlessly into his mouth, as his lips found hers once more, hungry for the feel of his hands on her body, and the imperative need to have him inside her. Her heels dug into the small of his back as she lifted, accepting the thick fullness of him. She didn’t want to acknowledge the dull ache of foreboding, but disquieting thoughts raced through her mind as Oliver plunged into her, hard and hot, filling her over and over again, until she met his eyes, his stare drilling into her. She saw his thoughts mirroring her own. The war of emotions and turmoil raging in them both fueled their desires, desperately giving and taking from one another. She’d never experienced such intense emotion, pleasure and chemistry all at once with anyone but Oliver Queen. Thoughts of what was to come made her heart wrench painfully. What if it didn’t work? What if she never saw him again? Chloe fought hard against the tears she’d refuse to let fall. “I love you, Oliver… no matter what happens… I love you,” she cried; as she dug her nails into his shoulder blades, arching hungrily up to meet his thrusts rhythmic, pounding, again, again, again.

Neither of them wanted slow and sweet. This was urgent, desperate, hard and fast. The air shimmered around them, grew taut. Her words. It was her words, and the way she said them. No woman had ever uttered those words in that way while in the throes of passion for him. They’d reached inside him, wrapping around his heart, permeating and filling him to near bursting. Words that made him want to possess her, take her harder, deeper, make her a part of him that no one could ever take away. Sensations assaulted him; the first tremors began inside, moving along his manhood in tiny convulsive jerks. She surrounded him, her cries of ecstasy filling him, her silken heat pulsing around him. He was lost in her. Oliver couldn’t form a coherent thought. He didn’t know where he ended and she began. His head fell forward, touching hers as he felt her body clutching his. And then he knew she was there, the pleasure curling through her like a tidal wave and pushing her into rapture. He shook from the exertion of his release, his voice, guttural and strained with passion calling her name.

They struggled for breath, hearts racing. Oliver slipped his arms beneath her and shifted, sitting up taking her with him, so that she straddled him, still buried inside her. Chloe brushed away tiny beads of sweat from his brow, and ran fingers through his hair kissing him gently, before laying her cheek on his shoulder, limp as a rag doll against him. They were both trembling with aftershocks, soft sighs on stuttered breaths sounded in the room.

“I love you too, Chloe,” he breathed into her hair, his hands soothing her heated skin.

Her breath tingled over his chest. “That’s all that matters, Ollie,” she whispered.

“I know,” was all he said, but nothing would matter if their plan didn’t work. Nothing would matter if he lost her.

The phone rang, yet neither of them moved. Moments later the buzzer sounded.

“It’s Bart,” Oliver murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“How do you know?”

“I’m psychic.”

A short laugh burst from her lips. “A new super power?”

“Who else can call one minute and be here the next?”

“True,” she conceded, lifting her head to gaze down at him.

Oliver took her face in his hands, thumbs stroking her cheeks, still flushed with passion. “Guess there’s no spending the day in bed, huh?”

Chloe rolled her eyes, grinning playfully. “I’ll get it,” she said, placing her hands on his chest for leverage as she started to rise up off of him.

“I’ll get the door. As much as he’d love it, Bart doesn’t need to see you… like this.”

She laughed. “I wouldn’t answer the door half naked.” She protested, searching the floor for her pajama bottoms, scooping them up. “Well, maybe for you I would,” she kissed his cheek, then grinned over her shoulder on her way to his bedroom, noting that he’d become utterly speechless admiring the view she provided.

He watched her walk away. “God, she has a great ass.”

The buzzer sounded impatiently once more, rousing Oliver from his momentary reverie. He slipped on his boxer-briefs and stepped over to the monitor. He was right. It was Bart, waiting anxiously, looking as though he’d bounce off the elevator walls if he could.

“Ollie. I’ve got some news. It’s about that Davis Bloom dude. I saw him leave the facility.”

End Chapter 18

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