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!








Thursday, January 15, 2009

Signal Fire Chapter 7


Signal Fire
Chapter 7



“Halt!” Lex called, his voice echoing in the immense mansion office. He and his partner, both dressed in white lowered their foils, handing them to two male servants standing nearby. Their weapons were replaced with water bottles and hand towels.

“You,” she smiled at him saucily as she removed her mask, auburn ponytail flipping from behind. “Are a genius.” Lex’s plan was brilliant, and she wondered why she hadn’t thought of it herself.

“Of course,” Lex removed his mask as well, and smirked just before taking a sip of water from the blue bottle. They’d been fencing, something he hadn’t done in a long time, and Tess nearly got the best of him. “And you my dear, are amazing.” Lex wiped his brow. “You’ve been studying the Flèche move. I’m amazed.”

The color in Tess’s cheeks had nothing to do with the footwork required of fencing exercises or mock duels. This man had saved her life. He’d never given up on her, and had done everything in his power to assure her complete recovery. She was forever indebted to him. “Oh yes.” Her eyes told him she understood his meaning. He wasn’t speaking of her footwork. “Flèche has become my specialty,” she purred.

“Well then,” Lex bowed gallantly before her, then took her hand brushing his lips against her knuckles. “I can’t wait to see what else you have in store.” He dismissed the servants, and when he was certain they were alone, he pulled her closer. His voice lowered to a smooth whisper. “But I want to be there when he’s revealed. I want to look into the eyes of Oliver Queen as he’s begging for mercy. Especially the first time.”

Tess’s smile grew wicked. “It will be my pleasure.”

“Take as much pleasure as you’d like, as many times as you’d like.”

“Oh, I will.”

* * * * *

Bart swiveled in the chair in front of the console in the command center beneath Queen mansion. He’d been dying to ask Ollie how he’d gotten beat up since they’d all arrived this morning, but he knew better. He wanted to know what the other guy looked like and hoped it was worse. Oliver would refuse to go to the hospital if he mentioned it, but Bart knew he was hurting. He’d come out of the changing rooms as the rest of the team arrived, wearing blue jeans, and stuffing his head and arms into a white t-shirt, wincing at the movement as he did so. They’d all seen the bandages wrapped tightly around his midsection. Oliver also sported a fresh bruise along his cheek and jaw. When they’d asked, he only said he’d tell them later. “I hate to say this Ollie, but… do you think she… you know, just left?” Bart didn’t really want to be the one to say it, but someone had to. “I mean… dude, you’ve got an entire timeline here of Oliver Queen’s bevy of babes.” Bart lifted the copy of the Star City Sentinel he’d been holding.

Oliver had been standing over Victor who worked diligently at the computer. He shot Bart a look.

Bart bowed his head sheepishly. “Sorry. I just mean…”

“I know what you mean Bart,” Oliver sighed, running a hand through his hair, he couldn’t get upset with the younger man, Bart did have a point. “I’d understand why any woman would want to leave me after seeing that, but…” Oliver’s expression turned doubtful for a moment, considering the possibility. “But… Chloe didn’t leave me.” Oliver stepped over toward the fax machine when it came to life with a hum, as an incoming fax was arriving. He lifted the piece of paper, his eyes scanning it. “Shit.”

AC lifted his head and Bart was at Oliver’s side in a split second.

“What is it?”

“Lois did some digging. Philip Cook did write the article, but that’s not all. Take a look at this.” Oliver handed the paper to Vic who read it instantly, then passed it on to AC sitting next to him.

Bart was fidgeting with curiosity. “What is it?” he repeated, zipping over to peer at the paper in AC’s hands. “Holy shit.”

All four men looked at one another.

“You think this guy’s the missing prototype from Project Ares?” Victor asked.

“He was strong, but not that strong. Not like the others,” Oliver said, lost in thought, rubbing his side gingerly. “Most of his strength was in his legs, I think…. And there’s nothing robotic about him that I can tell.”

“That’s the dude you fought? Chloe’s coworker?” AC queried, handing the fax sheet back to Victor.

“I'm not sure, but he might be. I didn't see his face,” Oliver brushed it off, reaching for another sheet as the fax came through. This one had Philip’s photograph and former military rank information included. “I knew it. Highly trained.”

Victor read the paper again. “Says here that according to military records…” he looked up. “How did Lois get a hold of this information anyway?”

It was the first time since they’d all been there, that a hint of a smile reached Oliver’s lips. “She’s got connections, remember?”

“That’s right.” Vic nodded, returning to the paper. “This Cook guy was officially listed as MIA while on a covert mission.”

“Dude is hard core,” Bart piped in. “Why would he want to take Chloe?” he wondered aloud.

“Not Philip.” Oliver answered. “Lex.”

“Cueball’s been missing for over a year,” Bart retorted. “Probably dead.”

“Missing, not dead.”

“I’ve got something…” Victor typed in a few more keys on the computer. “That company car… the license plate… it belongs to a small technologies company called Apollo Alliance. But I couldn’t find much more than that. Then I did a little more digging, and found that it was buried under a pile of corporate acquisitions, and has indirect connection to none other than Project Ares.”

“It’s Lex, there’s no doubt,” Oliver mused.

“What’s with him and Greek mythology?” AC asked.

“He should have been a classics professor,” Bart quipped, then returned his gaze to Oliver. “So now what? We still don’t know where to find Chloelicious.”

Oliver folded an arm over his chest, rubbing his chin in thought. “We keep on digging. Check out this Apollo Alliance, maybe shake those guys up a little bit, see what they can tell us.”

“We’ll do it. You stay here bro,” AC offered.

“No. I need to do this,” Oliver was firm.

It was Victor’s turn. “No offense, but you’re not exactly in the best shape right now.”

It was one of those times Oliver hated being the only member of the team without a special superhuman ability. His side hurt, he was certain he’d had bruised ribs, possibly worse, and did his best to tape himself up and ignore the pain. He looked at each of them; this team he’d assembled, and not for the first time did the irony of the situation go unnoticed by him. Physically he was the weakest of the group, the most vulnerable, and yet they followed him. Chloe told him it was because of the man he was. He had a strength about him that went beyond physical, she’d said, leadership qualities they looked up to. They respected him, were loyal to him and to each other. Oliver still couldn’t fathom it at times. “She’s my girlfriend. I’m not sitting around here doing nothing.”

“She’s our Watchtower, and you won’t be doing nothing,” AC countered. “You’ll be here, manning the fort.”

Bart spoke before Oliver could say anything. “Big Tuna’s right, boss. Let us handle this one.”

AC cast a sidelong glance at Bart. “You’ve been watching The Office reruns again, haven’t you?”

Bart waggled his brows.

Of all of them, Victor seemed to understand best, Oliver’s need to go, and feel as though he were actively doing something, anything to find Chloe. He also knew Oliver’s pride was at stake, but like the others, he knew Oliver was feeling the pain of his fight the night before, and looked as though he hadn’t slept at all. “Oliver, it’s just this once. You can sit out for just one. We’ll come back with any information we have and take it from there. You can lead the charge once we know more and have a plan.” Victor stood, placing a hand on Oliver’s shoulder, his tone then became solemn and quiet, his dark eyes meeting Oliver’s. “Chloe needs you in one piece, man. She needs you strong. If Lex is behind this, you know there’s going to be a fight. Conserve some of that energy for when we really need it, and we’re all there together.”

Oliver looked at each of them, waiting expectantly for his reply; part of him knew they were right. They knew the drill; he knew he could trust them. It was a simple recon mission, but part of him needed to be out there. He rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. “All right,” he sighed. “But you let me know what you find immediately. You move out tonight after dark.”

Even Bart had grown serious at hearing Victor’s plea. “You got it, amigo.”

They’d finished their preliminary research on Apollo Alliance, found employee records, the building blueprints, and made preparations, waiting for dark to gear up, and already gone. Oliver sat bleary-eyed at the console listening in on the comm. His cell phone rang, and he reached for it absently checking the caller ID, his eyes widening, his heart stopping at the sight of her name.

He removed the comlink earpiece, tossing it on the desk in front of him, pressing the phone to his ear in its place. “Chloe!”

“I must say, I didn’t think you two would last this long. Who’d have thought Oliver Queen would turn out to be a one woman man?” the feminine voice responded.

Oliver was suddenly wide-awake and sat upright in the chair. “Who is this?” he demanded, his heartbeat thundering, breath quickening.

“An old friend,” came the response.

There was something familiar about the voice, something that made his insides lurch, something that told him he didn’t want to know the answer to his question. “Who is this? Where’s Chloe?”

“Come now, Arrow. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

Oliver swallowed, rising from the chair, a fist clenching at his side. He didn’t want to utter her name. “Tess.”

“You do remember. I’m flattered.”

“Where’s Chloe?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking. And thanks to her blood, I’m alive and well, and better than ever.”

“Her blood? What have you done to her?” Oliver shouted into the phone.

Tess’s voice remained calm, taunting him. “Don’t worry, Archer. Nothing’s happened to your precious Ms. Sullivan. I imagine she’s sleeping right about now. Sedated and well guarded.”

Chloe attempted to heal Tess after the alien creature masquerading as Davis Bloom attacked her, resulting in her near death. But Chloe’s strength had been depleted, and the healing was only partial, leaving Tess alive but comatose for the past eight months. Oliver let loose with a string of curses, wishing he’d prevented Chloe from healing Tess at all.

“Now, now, Oliver. All is not lost. No need for such language. You do want to see her again, don’t you?”

“Damn you, Tess. I’m not playing your games. Where is she?” he ground out.

A short laugh escaped her. If he only knew the game Lex had in mind for him. A game she’d enjoy repeatedly; over and over, until she tired of it. Her voice became hard, businesslike as she spoke the words rapidly. “The Green Arrow’s presence is requested in Black Creek. I know you’re familiar with the facility. Tomorrow. Midnight. Come alone. If we suspect your cohorts are aware of your plans or anywhere nearby, we will exterminate her without thought, and leave her body in the Montana wilderness for you to pick up. Come to the main entrance of the facility. We’ll be waiting for you.”

And then the line went dead, and Oliver sank into the chair. “Tess. Hello? Tess!” Oliver closed his phone. “Bitch!” he spat, slamming his fist down onto the desk in front of him. He glanced around the room, rising once more from his seat, suddenly antsy, thoughts whirling, pacing as though not knowing what to do with himself. Tess had Chloe’s cell phone, it was proof enough for him that she was there. Forgetting all about the mission at Apollo Alliance and the rest of the team, Oliver went into the changing area of the command center to gather up his gear, and choose his weaponry.

Though it was too early, he left, knowing he couldn’t tell the team where he’d gone, calling for the private jet. He knew they’d be angry that he hadn’t thought this through, hadn’t consulted with them, but he couldn’t risk Chloe’s life. Tess was ruthless enough to kill Chloe in cold blood, and Oliver couldn’t take that chance. He slept fitfully on the flight to Montana, the pain in his side now a dull ache, waking him. He ignored it. Once landed, he had plenty of time before midnight to retrieve the building plans. He received calls from Victor, but he didn’t answer them, letting them go to voicemail. They wanted to know where he was, what had happened, what he was doing. He sent Victor a text message, then turned off his phone. When the hour grew near, he suited up in his green leathers, retrieved his motorcycle from the jet, and rode the darkened highway to the Black Creek facility. Oliver knew he was walking right into a trap, but he could think of no other way to barter with Tess for Chloe’s release. He’d offered to exchange his life for hers once before, and he’d do it again.

They were waiting for him.

Several well-armed guards were at the gate. They divested him of his bow and searched him for other weapons. Once satisfied that he posed no threat, they led him at gunpoint to the main entrance.

The double doors opened wide on the main corridor of the Black Creek facility. Oliver remembered it well; dim hallways that led to cell-like rooms for its various occupants. It was nearly empty now, but for the guards escorting him, their footsteps echoing in his ears. As they walked further, he saw her, standing with her arms folded over her chest, dressed in black, similar to that of the black fatigues the guards surrounding him wore. They stopped mere feet in front of her.

“Welcome back.”

“You’ve got what you want,” his synthesized voice responded, his face an emotionless mask behind the glasses and hood. “Let me see her, make sure she’s all right. And then you’ll let her go.”

Tess’s lips curved in a smirk. “You’ve only just arrived. This party hasn’t started yet.” She stepped closer, peering up into his face. “We should get reacquainted, don’t you think? Lots to catch up on.” She turned away from him, rounding a corner, continuing to saunter down another hallway. The guards shoved Arrow forward, following her. Tess looked over her shoulder at him, a wicked gleam in her eye. “Don’t worry, Archer. You’ll see her. I promise.”

They entered a large room, and Oliver balked upon seeing the interior; heavy chains on the cement wall opposite, various torture devices, knives and odd looking equipment nearby. Throwing himself at the nearest guard, Oliver landed several punches and well-placed kicks at anyone dressed in black. He’d started a melee in the room, pieces of equipment crashing to the floor, shouts reverberating throughout. Oliver took several severe hits as well, and already hurting from his prior injury, he was no match for them. They’d finally subdued him, the ache in his side from two nights ago became stabbing as they continued to beat and kick him, even as they tied his hands behind his back. Tess said something, taunting him once more, but it didn’t register, and he didn’t respond. One of the guards forced him up onto his knees, the cold, hard metal of a pistol pressed to his temple in warning.

And then he heard a voice he'd been longing to hear echoing from the hall, or he thought he did, he couldn’t be sure, his head mired in a fog. “Get your paws off of me! I can walk. Let me go!”

Catching his breath, Oliver lifted his head with great effort. He needed to see her. And when his eyes came into focus he saw Chloe struggling against the grasp of two men, one on either side of her. Recognition slammed him like a gale force wind at the sight of the men leading her. Philip Cook, and Lex Luthor.

They shoved her into the room. She cried out upon seeing him, and throwing her body forward in an attempt to run to him, she was caught up short as they held her back. Someone removed his hood and dark glasses, leaving him exposed.

Guards hoisted Oliver to his feet as Lex approached. The two men eyed each other. Oliver was unwilling to show any hint of the pain he was feeling, desperately trying to regain his senses, his stare remained cold. In the background, Chloe continued to struggle and shout, until Philip grasped her from behind.

“Hello Oliver. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Not long enough,” Oliver’s voice came, sounding like gravel, his breath hitching at the pain in his side and everywhere else, he wondered how he was able to stand by sheer will alone, refusing to show Lex any weakness. His eyes flitted briefly to Chloe, her petite form dressed in a dark brown jumpsuit. Still struggling weakly, she was pulled back against Philip Cook, his hand over her mouth, an arm around her waist. A renewed rage kindled at the sight. He didn’t want Philip touching her.

Lex’s response was a barely visible, but triumphant smile. He couldn’t help it. Before him stood an enemy, weakened both physically and mentally; his life in Lex’s hands. It was too sweet, made only sweeter by the knowledge that the Green Arrow was none other than Excelsior Academy bully and tormentor, Oliver Queen. Lex had the upper hand now, and he would enjoy every moment of the show he and Tess had in store. He thought it was too good to be true, when Tess had told him the identity of the Green Arrow. But now, seeing Oliver Queen with his own eyes, dressed in green leather he felt a sense of victory. “The Green Arrow. Who’d have thought it? I’ll admit the playboy billionaire act is quite the façade for a double life.”

“You should know.”

“Wealth does have its advantages, doesn’t it? But there are some things money just can’t buy, and this moment is one of them.”

“You’ve got what you want,” Oliver breathed. “Let Chloe go.”

“You don’t think that’s it, do you? She’s just as important to this play as you are. Quite necessary in fact. If it weren’t for her abilities, we wouldn’t have the privilege of repeat performances. ” Lex cast a glance over his shoulder at Chloe. Her eyes were wide with fear and anger. His gaze returned to Oliver. “I pull the strings now. You’ve both been terrorizing me for far too long. It’s my turn now. The Green Arrow is no more.” Lex nodded to someone behind Oliver, and he struggled as they pulled him away. Someone unzipped his green leather vest, hands removing it. Another pulled out a knife, slitting the black sleeveless t-shirt he wore beneath it, up the front; ripping the material from his body. Oliver found some strength from somewhere, lashing out as they shoved him against the cement wall attempting to fit his wrists into the cold steel manacles that hung from short, thick chains. His protests were met with a blow to the head with the butt of a guard’s pistol. Another tore the wrap of bandages from his torso, revealing a bruised area along his side. Oliver felt the warm trickle of blood down his temple, his head bobbing as they chained him against the wall, arms spread out just above shoulder height. Chloe shouted from somewhere far away, and he heard them scrambling for her as she broke Philip’s hold.

“Not yet, Chloe,” he heard Lex's smooth voice. “This isn’t where you make an entrance yet. Don’t worry though; your part in this show is coming up soon. I’m sure neither of you will disappoint us with your performances.”

End Chapter 7

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