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!








Saturday, December 6, 2008

Déjà Vu Chapter 11


Déjà Vu
Chapter 11


Chloe coughed, dust choking her airways. She felt covered in dirt. It was dark, something felt heavy on her legs. She wiggled and maneuvered, wiping what she thought was sweat from her brow, then wincing in slight pain, as her fingers found the lump and gash on her forehead that mysteriously hadn't hurt at all until now. She didn’t have to see to know it was blood. She heard a low moan just in front of her, but couldn’t see much of anything except for the dark silhouetted outlines of odd shapes.

She wiggled some more, twisting, moving her legs, slipping them out from under what felt like part of the concrete wall. Her bare feet would be scraped up, as well as her legs covered only in thin pajama bottoms, but she didn’t care, and continued to move and squirm her way out from under the heavy weight.

Another low groan of pain. Chloe crawled toward the sound, her hands blindly searching the ground in front of her until she came upon a fleshy lump. Her hand skimmed over it. A bare, muscled arm, up over the leather strip that covered his bicep, up further to a shoulder, and under some dust, the soft pliant leather. “Arrow?” The echo of her voice sounded small to her own ears.

His breathing was shallow, air gurgling from his throat. She moved closer, her hand slipping into a small puddle of something warm and sticky. How long had they been there? He’d bleed to death if no one found them soon. “Arrow!” She felt around frantically, running her hands over his body. She discovered he was face down, but thankfully, no large pieces of concrete seemed to have landed on him. She brushed away the smaller chunks of debris, wondering if she should try to roll him over. It was then that she’d discovered the bullet hole in the middle of his back. She gasped. “No.” Chloe tried to pull his hood down, and managed to move his head sideways, slipping the leather hood off. She removed his dark glasses, and voice distorter, then stroked his cheek. “No!” she cried.

“Chloe,” he whispered into the darkness, his voice hoarse, labored. He struggled to move.

“No, don’t move, you’ll only bleed more.”

Oliver ignored her, and continued to push himself up on his elbows, panting and grunting with the effort, until Chloe helped him to roll onto his back, collapsing, a groan of pain escaping him as he did so.

“Have to… tell you…”

“Shhh. Don’t talk,” she whispered, her voice thick on the verge of tears. She knelt over him, running her fingers through his hair, stroking his face, wishing she could see him clearly, see the face of Oliver Queen dressed as his Green Arrow persona. But touching him, knowing it was him was enough for her. “Don’t move anymore. Someone will come for us” she soothed.

“I never really…,” he began weakly, then coughed in the dust filled, enclosed space. “…told you… how much…”

“Shhh… please don’t.” She began to weep, unzipping his vest, running her hands over his muscled chest and torso, searching and finding the exit wound, her hands slick with his blood.

“How much I… love you… love you, Chloe. Please… remember that.”

She couldn’t remember, but she knew that he did love her, and once again the loss of her memories tore at her heart. Chloe moved to lie beside him, cupping his cheek, bringing her face next to his and pressing her forehead against his temple. “We can tell each other every day when we get out of here,” she whispered in his ear. “We’ll get out of here, and you’ll be fine, and I’ll get my memory back, and I’ll remember everything we’ve done and said and were to each other.” She was babbling through her tears, and she knew it, but she needed to keep talking to him. “I’ll remember, even if we have to do all the things we’ve ever done all over again.” Somehow talking to him felt as though it were directly correlated with his survival. “We’ll go to all the places we’ve been, see everything again.” The more she talked, the greater his chance of living through this, as though his very life depended on the amount of talking she did. She sniffled, her warm breath shuddering against his cheek, as she continued to cry. “And we’ll have lunch at Le Bistro again, and let the paparazzi take our pictures, and print them in the Inquisitor… only next time, we’ll really give them something to talk about with… outrageous public displays of affection, and I’ll be the playmate to your playboy.”

Something that sounded like a laugh escaped him, but quickly turned into a cough. Oliver listened to her soft voice in his ear, his lids opening and closing at intervals, as he fought to hold onto the sound, and to her words in an effort to remain conscious.

“And you must take me along with you at least once, so that I can hold onto you, while we swing from rooftops. And sex. There must be lots of hot, steamy rooftop sex with the Green Arrow.”

“You… remember that… part?”

“We’ve done that?”

“Many times,” he murmured weakly, and Chloe noted that his breathing was even shallower than before, his skin becoming colder to the touch. Chloe feared he was going into shock. If help didn’t come soon, she might lose him.

And then she felt his body begin to shiver. “Shhh…. No talking, just listen.” Her voice broke, as new tears surged and began to fall. She snuggled closer, pressing her body against him, and sliding her leg up over and across his hips, in an effort to offer him her body heat. Chloe continued to stroke his face, and thread her fingers into the soft, spiky strands of his hair. “There are lots more rooftops in Metropolis, and we’ll have to christen all the ones in Star City too.”

Her breath hitched, her throat constricting tightly as she cried. “And we’ll go to the Talon… of course you’ll… have to bring the napkins,” she sniffled. “You’ll have to buy me tulips at least once a week though, and… keep me supplied with my favorite coffee….” Her voice trailed off on a heart-wrenching sob.

He turned his head toward her, his nose brushing against hers. “Don’t cry... Chloe.” A soft grunt of pain escaped him, and he gasped for breath once more. “Kiss me,” he whispered urgently.

She was weeping uncontrollably now, searching for his lips in the darkness, trembling fingertips dancing lightly over his face. She pressed warm moist lips to his, whimpering, crying against his mouth, tasting the wet saltiness that covered both of their lips now.

Her eyes closed over as she kissed him, causing more tears to escape beneath her lids. Suddenly she felt dizzy; an odd tingling sensation welling up within her body, growing increasingly stronger, overflowing until she thought she’d burst. Bright, colorful light suddenly exploded, filling the dark, confined space, and Chloe felt as though she were tumbling, spiraling out of control and then drifting away.

Lightening flashed in her mind, images appearing and disappearing at random. More images fast-forwarding through her brain, faces, events, places. Oliver, Clark, Lois, Lana, their faces smiling, laughing, swam before her. She was prom queen, graduation, the second meteor shower, the Daily Planet, Queen Tower, the Kent farm, the Talon. Scenes, quick snippets, flashed before her, some unrelated some not. Lex’s face was shadowed, telling her she was fired. She was meeting Oliver for the first time in Clark’s barn, she was on a rooftop being attacked by the Black Canary, and he was there for her. She was Watchtower, waiting anxiously for the Green Arrow to return, running to his arms, then somehow kissing him passionately, wanting him more than anything or anyone she’d ever wanted in her life. And they were on the floor, and he was filling her, and giving her everything he had. He was reaching for her hand, her name spoken softly on his lips, telling her with his eyes of his desire for her. She was in Paris, and in Rome with him, she was being carried over his shoulder, laughing as he tossed her onto his bed, and then he was making love to her sweetly, tenderly before he had to leave her.

It all came back, a deluge of memories flooding her mind, rapid, racing, flashing, overwhelming her.

At once Oliver knew her power had returned. Her essence surrounded him, entered him, filled him. It was like being the sand, and feeling the rush of ocean waves permeate your grains, and then that moment of suspension, before the waves then slowly retreat, back to the sea. Tissues, torn and broken were soothed and healed, pain was numbed and then did not exist, and he was whole once more.

The light faded, and the passageway was once again engulfed in darkness. Oliver blinked several times. He felt renewed, strengthened. Reaching down, he moved his hand exploringly over his chest. The blood was there, but the wound was gone. “Chloe?”

She didn’t answer. Oliver touched her, fingers searching her face blindly in the darkness, roving gently over her cheek to the pulse point at her throat. It was there, but weak. “Chloe.” He gathered her in his arms, moving to sit upright, his back leaning against the wall. He cradled her, absently stroking her hair. She’d regained her ability, and he wondered if… no, hoped her memories had returned as well.

Oliver pulled her close, pressing his lips to her cheek, then burying his face in the curve of her neck for long moments, grateful to be alive, thankful that she’d recovered some part of herself. Then raising his head, he glanced around, but there was nothing he could see clearly. Chloe had removed his night vision glasses, and it would be difficult, if not impossible to locate them. He’d have to wait until she awoke, then see if they could make their way out. It was too dark to try to carry her through the rubble of the passageway. His only other hope was that the rest of the team was searching for them.

* * * * *

The team watched from a safe distance as the ruins of the Cloverdale building burned to embers, smoke and steam rising into the night sky. Emergency vehicles, and fire trucks were leaving the scene. It had been over an hour and still no sign of Oliver or Chloe.

“Where the hell are they?”

“I don’t know, I’ve been trying, but still no communication with Arrow,” Victor responded through the comlink.

“They should have been here by now.” Clark glanced around worriedly.

They waited till all was clear before heading toward what was left of the facility. Clark used his freeze breath to cool off the ruins completely, then scanned the ground with x-ray vision as the group walked with him through the crumbled remnants.

“Anything?” A.C. asked, stepping carefully over a protruding metal girder.

“Hold on,” Clark answered, squinting at the ground. He moved further away, toward the far edge of the building foundation. “There!” Clark could see the x-ray outlines of what appeared to be Oliver, sitting up, holding Chloe in his arms. Both of them were alive. Clark removed his jacket, following the path of the underground passage some distance away, so that he could create an opening, hopefully without causing it to collapse on top of them. “They’re down pretty deep. Chloe’s not moving.” He finally settled on a spot. “You guys might want to move away,” he warned, and then began to spin, using the speed and strength of his body like a drill, boring a huge hole into the ground.

Oliver felt distant rumblings and creaking, worried that some aftershocks and settling from the blasts would cause more of the passageway to collapse. Dust and dirt began falling, and he moved to shield Chloe with his body. Then he heard voices.

“Chloe!”

Clark cleared a path, picking up pieces of concrete, moving them aside, and breaking through others. “Arrow!”

“Here!” Oliver called out his voice echoing in answer.

Clark continued moving toward them. “Oliver. Is she all right?”

Oliver could see the dark shape of Clark’s form nearby. “She’s out. Healed me. Her ability’s come back.” He clutched her body closely, repositioning her to gain some leverage, and then moved to stand with her in his arms.

“Come on. The path is cleared this way, I’ll take her.”

“It’s okay, I’ll carry her,” Oliver answered. “Just lead the way out, I’m right behind you.”

Clark spoke so that Oliver could follow his voice. “We were all worried, wondering why you hadn’t shown up at the rendezvous point.”

“I’m glad you showed up when you did, I honestly wasn’t certain how much time we had, or if there’d even be enough oxygen down there.”

They reached the huge hole Clark had made. “Hold onto her, we’re about to jump out of here.” Clark put an arm around Oliver and leapt upward. They landed on their feet, on the soft grass-covered ground.

“Holy shit!” Bart exclaimed, upon seeing them. All three were covered in dirt, but Chloe and Oliver were horribly bloodied as well, and her body was limp in Oliver’s arms. “What the hell happened? Is Chloe all right?”

“Lex found us. He shot me just as the explosions started. Chloe’s powers have come back. She healed me. I think she’ll be okay soon.” Oliver paused, gazing at his teammates, his eyes hard. “I don’t know if Lex made it out in time.”

End Chapter 11

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