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, January 24, 2009

Signal Fire Chapter 9

Signal Fire
Chapter 9

Sunlight had begun to filter through the spaces between the dark curtains covering the window, when the descent began. Plummeting, down, down, back into her body, her sharp, lung-filling breath startling him awake. He held her close, soothing her until she regained her senses, his eyelids closed over with relief, grateful for her every breath. Suddenly she seemed to remember everything that happened, because all at once he was being affectionately assaulted, her hands moving over his chest and torso as though to be certain she’d healed every part of him, his name whispered fervently from her lips, the kisses she’d wanted to give him days ago when she’d decided to return home, raining down on his face with such joy, that he didn’t want to set her apart, but he had to. He needed to talk to her, push her away, and it was killing him.

Chloe felt him tense beneath her touch. Oliver cupped her shoulders, nudging her away gently. “Chloe...” he whispered. “We’re not alone.” He motioned with his head toward the sleeping figure slouched in a chair across the room. Chloe followed his gaze to find Philip Cook nodding off in a sitting position, arms folded over his chest, her green eyes thinning at the sight of him.

She turned her gaze back to Oliver, eyes earnest now, her voice low. “We can take his gun, get out of here…”


“What? Why not?”

Oliver placed a finger over her lips, then traced them gently, as his eyes drifted over her face with an expression akin to longing. “Listen to me,” he murmured, reversing their positions so that she lay tucked beneath his side, his leg thrown over her hips.

Something wasn’t right, Chloe sensed it in his eyes, in the way he touched her. Before she could ask what was wrong, he spoke.

“I’m going to send him out for some food, you need to eat. We’ll talk more when he’s gone.” Oliver rose up from the bed, walking toward the sink, leaving Chloe both bewildered by his emotional distance and bereft of his warmth. He filled a plastic cup with water and brought it to her.

The movement in the room roused Philip, and he watched them for a moment as Chloe sat up on the bed and drank greedily from the cup Oliver had given her. He stood up, running a hand over his face, anxious, uncertain of what to do or say. She’d been dead, and now was alive again. He was witnessing the impossible.

“Relax, soldier,” Oliver looked at Philip over his shoulder as he stood in front of Chloe. “She needs food. Does this place have anything like a five star restaurant next to the lobby?”

Philip was struck mute, watching her in disbelief. She downed the last of the water, whispered her thanks to Oliver and handed him the cup. He placed it on the nightstand.

“Tell Tess there won’t be anymore entertainment for her unless Chloe eats. She’s hungry.”

He blinked. “Uh… hungry?”

“Bringing people back from the dead takes a lot out of her.”

Philip cast about for something to say. “Right. I’ll get her something.”

After he left, Chloe reached for Oliver’s hand pulling him down next to her on the bed. “Oliver, what is it, what’s happening?”

He scooted, leaning back against the wall. “They’ll come back for us,” he said quietly.

“Not if we get out of her first…”

He shook his head, gazing down at his hands resting on his thighs. “And when they do, you have to promise me that you won’t heal me again, and try to convince Philip to get you out.”

Chloe couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and moved to straddle him, taking his face in her hands, her eyes probing his. “Philip is the one that got me in here, and I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Promise me.”

His expression was resolute, the import of his words sinking in. He meant what he was saying, the realization striking her like a blow to the gut. He wanted her to let him die, to leave without him. Her lips began to tremble, the heat of tears threatening. “I will not.”

“He cares for you. He’ll help you.”

She threw her arms around him, burying her face against his neck. “No!” The sound of her voice coming from a sob. “I’m not leaving you here.”

He was quiet for a moment, letting her cry, her warm wet tears falling upon his skin. He’d made her cry enough, and couldn’t bear to be the cause of her tears anymore. “Shhh…” he soothed. “It’ll be all right. Just promise me that you won’t heal me again. Philip will get you out.” He tried not to touch her, but he couldn’t keep his hands from her and they moved over her back and over the curve of her waist to clutch her hips, of their own accord, pulling her closer. “Don’t you see? It’s what they want, Chloe. They want you to heal me… so they can kill me again. But we can stop this. It can end. You have to refuse… let me go.”

“No!” She cried harder, pressing her body against him.

“You deserve better than this, Chloe….” He whispered. “Better than what I’ve given you.” And though his heart ached to reveal his truth, he continued. “Better than me.”

She became silent; slowly lifting her head from his shoulder, finding his dark eyes glistening with mute wretchedness, knowing that his attempt to push her away was killing him. “You can’t mean that. Better than you?” she whispered, a hint of disbelief in her tone. “This is me you’re talking to. Chloe Sullivan, remember? The sidekick? The one always under the radar.” Her eyes flitted away. “I’m supposed to be the one who thinks she’s not deserving…of you… and…”

“Hey,” he admonished softly, lifting her chin, bringing her eyes back to his, not allowing her to finish her thought. He’d just realized what the issue had been all along, what her going on about debutantes and supermodels was all about just days before. The odd thing was; it had never occurred to him that she’d feel this way, because to him, there was no woman who came close enough to compare to her. But he should have known, somehow. It was her way not to give herself enough credit, and a small part of him wished he’d seen her, really seen her for all of her beauty long before. But he hadn’t, and both of them had been carrying around these crazy notions of true self-worth for different reasons. He cupped her cheek in his palm. “Do you know, that every day I look at you, and I wonder how the hell I was ever lucky enough to convince you to come to Star City and share your life with me? And then that article… and everything that made me feel unworthy of you was staring at me in black and white on the front pages of the gossip column. And here we are both feeling the same self-doubt, when the truth is, there will never be anyone more right for me than you. You’re everything to me. But the past… it’s never really far behind, it haunts us, and I’m afraid I’ll lose you because of it.”

“And do you know… that I was on my way back home when Philip called and asked me to meet him with some information, and that’s when I was abducted? I was on my way to the airport, and I turned around, because I couldn’t be away from you. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was wrong, because being with you has never felt more right. Ollie… I don’t care about the past anymore. Not yours, not mine. I think it’s time we both left it behind us, and didn’t look back. I want a future, and I can’t have the one I want if you’re gone. I’m not leaving you here, and we’re not letting them hurt us again.”

He touched his forehead to hers. “I’ve put your life in danger… more times than I care to count.”

“It’s what we chose to do, Oliver. Both of us. Together. I knew that when I signed up.”

He lifted his head, gazing into her eyes for a long silent moment, wondering whatever possessed him to think he could ever give her up, or live without her even for a moment. He couldn’t. Oliver released a long breath, as he pulled her head down against his chest. “What does this future you envision with me look like?” He wondered, tucking her head beneath his chin, and closing his eyes, relief flooding him now that he’d come to his senses, made the right decision, the only decision he could ever make where Chloe was concerned. She was his, and he wasn’t letting her go.

“It’s the same as yours.”

He needed to know, needed some sense of hope now, when at any moment Tess or Lex would come bursting into the room to take them. “Tell me, Chloe,” he whispered.

“Why did you ask me to move into the manor house, when we could live anywhere in Star City?” Chloe asked, pressing her cheek against his bare chest. “That huge warm place, with all those rooms. Did you think they’d stay empty forever?”

“You figure out all my secrets, don’t you?”

“Of course. I knew when you told me stories of growing up there, what your vision of the future was. We don’t have to fill all those empty rooms, maybe just a few of them…” her voice trailed off dreamily. “Oh, and we need a dog. Our children should have a dog.”

Children. He tried to imagine what they’d look like; images of a brood of little blondes running through the halls of the manor house, flitting through his mind. “Anything for you, Mistress Watchtower,” he murmured, the huskiness lingering in his tone.

“So we have to get out of here together, because you mentioned something about fifty years…”

“I did, didn’t I?”


They held each other for an interminable time in the silence of the room, each of them lost in their own reveries. Finally, Oliver spoke softly. “Philip.”

“What about him? He was behind this.”

“He cares for you.”

“Anyone who cared for me wouldn’t do this.”

“Trust me, Chloe. He may have been hired to do a job, but he’s fallen for you.”

Chloe lifted her head to look at him. “What do you want me to do?” she asked, determined now.

“Something you won’t like doing.”

“Go on…” she urged warily.

“Seduce him.”


“Tell him we’re through. Seduce him… not too much,” he added, unable to keep the bit of jealousy from rising in him. Oliver had no doubt of Chloe’s devotion and love for him. It was Philip who might take it too far, and he knew what he was asking would not be easy for her to do. “But enough to get him to take you out of here.”

“You mean both of us.”

“You can’t heal me again.”

“What makes you think they won’t just use the serum they’ve created from my blood to bring you back, and kill you over again anyway?”

“Because they want us to watch each other die. Using the serum would take the enjoyment of their game away.”

“Then we escape before that happens.”

“They know you’re awake now. There’s no time.”


“You need to get Philip to believe you, Chloe. Right now, he’s our only way out of here.” She opened her mouth to protest, when he silenced her, taking her mouth with his, kissing her thoroughly.

“Kissing… me… won’t… shut me… up,” she breathed against his lips between kisses.

The corners of his luscious mouth turned up slightly. “It does work sometimes. Can’t blame me for trying.” Oliver smoothed the hair back from her face, his expression growing serious once more. “You have to do it, Chloe.”

“Too many things can go wrong. I don’t like it, Ollie.”

“Once you’re out, contact the team, call Clark.”

Anxiety crossed her features. “I don’t think I can do it. I can’t deny you, they’ll see it in my face.”

“I have faith in you. And if it means life or death, you can do it.”

“I can’t watch them torture you again…” she whispered, her stomach churning at the thought.

“And I can’t have you die for me again, simply for their entertainment. It has to stop, and only you can stop them now.”

Chloe swallowed harshly. “What if the team is too late? There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t. Promise me, Chloe.”

Chloe nodded in reluctant agreement, still unsure of the entire plan. She rose from her position on his lap, and moved to occupy the chair on the opposite wall that Philip had vacated. They stared at one another in silent communication, until Oliver steeled his emotions, his expression becoming unreadable. Chloe looked down at her hands folded in her lap.

Moment’s later; Philip entered the room carrying a white paper bag and two Styrofoam cups of coffee. He stopped, his eyes moving from Chloe to Oliver, wondering why they weren’t sitting together.

“Tess is on her way,” he said, handing one of the cups to Chloe, and moving to place the bag on the night table. She looked up at him sadly, accepting the coffee. Chloe’s stomach growled at the faint scent of warm, freshly baked goods, but she didn’t speak.

“Give it to her,” Oliver spoke coldly, indicating Chloe with a movement of his head. Philip stopped, still uncertain, as the atmosphere in the room seemed almost hostile, yet it wasn’t directed at him. He turned, handing the bag to Chloe. She was hungry, as Oliver had said she would be, and she tore into the bag, finding muffins and bagels inside. Philip watched her devour two large muffins, washing them down with coffee.

He recalled the earlier conversation he’d had with Queen, and wondered if he’d already spoken to her, told her it was over between them. That had to be it, otherwise they’d be sitting together, probably feeding each other in a nauseating display of affection. His eyes never left Chloe who remained quiet, seemingly resigned over what was to come.

The door opened, and Tess swept inside with her entourage of guards, her reaction to finding Chloe and Oliver on opposite sides of the room, similar to Philip’s, as her eyes moved from one to the other. “Welcome back, Ms. Sullivan,” she said with more confidence than she felt. Seeing someone who’d just come back from the dead was a bit disconcerting, after all. Tess pushed her fear of the unknown aside. “I trust you’re ready?”

Chloe rose from the chair numbly, careful not to look back at Oliver as Philip grasped her arm, and escorted her out, knowing that if she looked at him, she’d break down. She didn’t think she could do this.

Tess remained behind. “What happened?” she asked, her voice laced with mock sympathy. “Lover’s quarrel?”

Oliver scooted from the bed, standing to his full height, causing Tess to take a step back. “You’re wasting time,” he answered.

“Not at all,” she responded, “It’s part of the process, Oliver.”

“Where’s Lex? Or do you always do his dirty work, like the obedient female dog you are to him?”

She turned her head, motioning to the three guards behind her. “You know what to do. Bring him to me after you’ve prepped him,” she ordered before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

It was then that Oliver noticed two of the guards carrying standard issue police batons, and another with a set of nunchucks, and he understood what prepping meant. He should simply let them take him, but every cell in his body urged him to fight back with everything he had as they closed in, attacking him from all sides.

Chloe wondered why they were keeping her in a different holding room. This one was smaller and dimly lit. It reminded her of a large, empty storage closet. They were waiting, alone. For what, she didn’t know. Why not just get it over with? She stood as a statue in the small, darkened room keeping her eyes downcast, remaining silent, afraid she’d give too much of herself away, or break down at any moment. Philip was at her side. This was her chance to get to him, and her insides quaked at the thought of what she’d have to do.

“Chloe…” he began, not really knowing what to say, but uncomfortable with the silence. “Look… it’s nothing personal, you know?”

Chloe lifted her large green eyes to his, her expression so desolate that his heart wrenched, and he lifted his hand to move the hair that had fallen over her face.

Chloe managed not to flinch away at his touch. “It’s just a job to you, isn’t it?” she whispered, her voice filling the empty space.

Philip lowered his hand, dropping it at his side.

“It’s over… Lex gets what he wants after all,” she whispered, staring off into the dimness. “And Tess gets to enjoy it.” She turned to him once more. “You’re quite the actor. I thought… I guess I thought you and I were friends. But you’re pretty good at your job, aren’t you?” Her voice was soft, not accusatory, as though she were simply making a non-committal observation. “And now… now I’m just a resource. I’m not even human to them; I’m just something they can use.”

Chloe turned away from him then, and he moved closer. She felt the warmth of his body behind her, and tried to keep her composure.

“What happened with Oliver?”

“It’s funny. Sometimes wrapped inside a lie, there’s some hidden truth.”

“What do you mean?”

Chloe wrapped her arms around herself before she spoke, in an effort to keep herself from shaking. Lowering her head once more, she kept her face hidden beneath her hair. “Adriana… it wasn’t her, but I’ve suspected that Oliver has been unfaithful for awhile now. It took all of this… happening to bring the truth out. Things haven’t been so good between us… and… it’s just… it’s over…” She didn’t finish; simply left her statement hanging in the stillness, hoping against hope that Philip would believe her lies. She sensed his movement as he came to stand in front of her, felt his tentative fingers slide up her arms and cup her shoulders.

Seduce him. She hoped Oliver was right about this.

Uncertain at first, he pulled her toward him in a gesture meant to comfort, and Chloe allowed it, burying her face against his chest. She wept silently, but not for the reasons Philip thought.

His arms tightened around her, surprised when he felt her grip him about the waist. “I’ve never felt so alone…” she sobbed, sensing his body’s response to her; the quickening of his heart, the heat of him through his black shirt. “I’m sorry,” she said, pulling away from him, taking a step back, and wiping her eyes hastily. He watched her as she regained her composure. “What are they doing? Why are they taking so long?” she sniffled.

“I don’t know,” he answered; the urge to take her in his arms once more overwhelming him.

“I don’t want this to be the rest of my life, Philip. I don’t want to be used by Luthorcorp as a miracle cure.”

Philip stepped closer. “I’m sure that’s not what they plan. They’ll let you go soon.”

Chloe lifted her eyes to his. “And what if they don’t? Do you know what it’s like to be ‘special’? To have people want to use you for their own gain?”

He was silent for a moment. “Actually, I do,” he murmured, cupping her cheek. “We’re not so different, Chloe.”

Chloe watched his head descend, his mouth a whisper away from hers. Oh shit. He brushed his lips against hers, causing her to back away, but Philip was insistent, slipping a hand at her waist, and cupping the back of her head with the other, keeping her immobile. Seduce him. As he kissed her, more fervently now, thoughts ran rampant, panic rising within her. She couldn’t do this, it didn’t feel right.

She wasn’t wearing a bra and when his hand slid upward over her side, thumb passing over the outer curve of her breast through the fabric of her shirt, she pulled away, backing into a wall. Apparently she was a horrible seductress. Oliver’s words came back to her as she stared up at Philip wide-eyed. He cares for you. He’ll help you. He’ll get you out. I have faith in you. And if it means life or death, you can do it. Chloe bit back her disgust at the entire situation. At herself for what she had to do, at Philip for what he’d done, at Tess, Lex, at this place, and then she lunged toward him, pulling his head down, kissing him with everything she had.

“Chloe,” he whispered, his body nudging her against the wall. “He’s a fool. He’s nothing. Forget Queen.”

She gripped his shoulders as his hands roved her body, biting back the sob constricting her throat. She felt nothing, her mind taking her to another place as his lips traveled down the curve of her neck and he ground himself against her. She imagined the manor house filled with the laughter of children; their hair the color of the sun. She saw them running, chasing the dog through the corridors, and then scampering outside among the trees and green rolling hills. They were the perfect combination of herself and Oliver. She wondered how many would have green eyes, and how many would have eyes the color of warm, rich chocolate.

Not the sounds of running children, but rather the sound of steps echoing through the hall outside the room caused Philip to stop; quickly lowering a shirt she hadn’t realized he’d lifted when he exposed her breasts to knead them with eager hands. He was breathing erratically, attempting to calm himself before anyone entered. “Everything will be all right,” he whispered. “I’ll get you out of here.” He walked away from her to regain his composure, waiting for whoever was coming to open the door.

Chloe smoothed her hair down, then began shoving her shirt back inside the loose, black B.D.U. pants she wore, her hands trembling. She hoped that was the end of it, hoped she didn’t have to endure that again. But he was going to get her out, and that meant she could get Oliver out. And that’s all that mattered now. She wouldn’t let Philip touch her ever again.

The door opened, light from the hallway falling into the dim room. It was Tess. “We’re ready for you now, Ms. Sullivan,” she said, a light smirk on her lips, motioning for Chloe to exit the room. Tess didn’t seem to be aware of what had transpired, and Philip, ever the actor that he was, kept his cool, grasping Chloe by the arm once more, leading her through the hallway.

As they walked, she glanced at Philip stealthily out of the corner of her eye to find him staring straight ahead, his face an emotionless mask. Chloe straightened her spine. She’d do what Oliver asked. She’d be strong for him. She’d get him out of here no matter his condition. She told herself that this nightmare would be over soon.

The door opened upon Lex’s “dungeon”, and when she entered, her eyes widened in horror, a scream nearly escaping her throat. Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling the sound. There, suspended by his wrists from a pulley connected to the ceiling, a foot or so from the floor, hung a half-naked Oliver Queen. His body bore the marks of a brutal beating. His head hung forward, and he attempted to lift it at the sound of people entering the room. His head bobbed with the effort, but he was able to see out of one eye, and he searched for her.

Chloe kept her hands clamped over her mouth, simply trying to keep herself steady on her feet. His face was a bloodied mass of hamburger; one eye was swollen completely shut. Disoriented, he sought her out among the group and when he found her, he held her horrified gaze, hoping she could hear his silent plea. Finally, Oliver moved his head ever so slightly, in a gesture to remind her of her promise.

* * * * *

Oliver’s text message was odd; the answer received had nothing to do with the question asked, prompting Victor to do some digging. He checked flight records, and located the whereabouts of one of the Queen Industries jets. It seemed they were about to visit the Black Creek facility and get their friends out of trouble. He hoped they weren’t too late.

End Chapter 9

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