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, July 16, 2009

Signal Fire Chapter 11

Signal Fire

Chapter 11

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“I’ve got it,” Victor announced triumphantly, lifting his eyes to his friends. “That was too easy.”

Bart danced around with his usual impatience. “Got what? They’re at Black Creek?”

“Yup. Black Creek.”

“You’re sure?” A.C. asked, leaning a hip against a nearby desk in the dimmed Green Arrow sub-basement.

“Checked flight records, and then there’s this. Binary Code. Oliver sent it. See that?” He gestured toward the computer monitor. The boys merely stared at what seemed a haphazard pattern of zeros and ones. “When I finally deciphered his last mysterious text message, it led me to a file he’d sent. Opened the file and there it was, written in beautiful Binary Code. Black Creek. That’s where they are. This message and the flight records I found of the Queen Industry’s jet he took, prove it. We don’t have much time to waste. Let’s move out. We should make it there by dusk.” Victor nodded to Bart in unspoken communication, sending the young man on ahead. He’d know what to do.

* * * * *

Oliver checked Philip’s pulse, assuring himself that the man was merely unconscious. He retrieved the key ring on Philip’s belt, pocketed it, then stepped over to the sink, setting the gun down on the ledge, grabbing up soap, and quickly washing away the blood from his face and torso, then drying himself with a nearby towel. There were no signs of injury. She’d healed him again. His gut twisted as he lifted his head, turning to look back at her lying on her side, her arm extended, her small hand hung limply over the edge of the bed. No more, he thought. No more. And suddenly he remembered from some clouded, distant corner of his mind, that she’d uttered those same words to him as she wept over his dying body the first time she’d healed him from the wrath of Tess’s blade. A wave of anguish swept over him, and he’d have wept right then and there recalling Chloe’s pain, but he couldn’t. He had to get them out of here. Oliver swallowed down his emotions, past the gnawing ache in his throat, and breathed deeply, steeling himself, hardening himself for their escape. Judging from the thin stream of light that filtered through the dark curtains, he guessed there was probably an hour or so of daylight left. It was up to him now, to get them out.

He slipped on the boots they’d given him, and moved to Chloe’s side, his movement causing her eyes to flutter open. She smiled weakly. “Hey,” she whispered, her eyes sliding closed briefly. “Nice work, Arrow.”

“Hey.” Oliver stroked her cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing over her bottom lip, his eyes drifting over her face lovingly. Oliver didn’t think it was possible to love anyone more than he loved her. “Ready, Mistress Watchtower?”

Before she could answer, he reached for her, sitting her up, and slinging her arm around his neck holding it there as he gripped her waist with his other hand, and stood, lifting her, allowing her to lean against him, steadying her on her feet.

“You go,” she breathed faintly. Her legs felt like jelly, and she nearly sunk to the ground. Were it not for his arm around her, she’d have crumbled. “Get out while you can.”

“No chance in hell I’m leaving you here, Sidekick.”

“I can’t walk, Ollie.”

“I’ll carry you.”

“No. Just go, Ollie. I’ll only slow you down.” Her head fell forward against his bare chest, too heavy in her weakened state to hold up any longer.

The cruel menace of Lex’s words floated, unbidden, seeping into Oliver’s brain. “I’m keeping her around for her abilities, and Philip Cook gets to fuck her anytime he wants…She’ll scream for him in a way she’s never screamed for you.”

Suddenly he gripped her chin, cupping her cheek to lift her face to his. This was no time to argue, Oliver’s fear, and sense of urgency growing by the moment. “You listen to me.” His demand was a soft growl. He shook her gently in his arms, and she lifted droopy eyelids to find his gaze filled with determination, desperation, and fear, willing her to understand. “I’m not leaving you here, do you understand?” he ground out harshly, unable to keep the hint of rising panic and anger at Lex’s threat from his voice. His jaw clenched, clamping down his fear for her, and the thought of what they’d do to her if he simply left her, or they were separated in any way. Neither was an option. She didn’t understand. She didn’t know the next part of Lex’s game. Oliver wouldn’t tell her, but he had to make her understand somehow. And now that he’d witnessed Philip Cook’s reaction to her, seen Philip put his hands on her, he knew Lex wasn’t lying. Cook was like a dog in heat around her, and would do exactly as Lex predicted. “You’re coming with me. Now. You’re not leaving my side, do you hear? I don’t care what happens.” It was an order.

She knew him well, and something in his expression, the firm set of his jaw, the finality and urgency of commanding tone in his voice, and the tension in his body pressed against her, told her more than his words ever could. She had to go with him, or face something worse to come. He meant it, and there was no arguing with him this time. She’d slow him down; they could get caught. Hell, there were probably hidden cameras in the room, that revealed their every movement, and either Tess or Lex and their men were on their way now. She was wasting time. Chloe glanced down at Philip Cook’s unconscious body sprawled on the floor not two feet away from her.

Oliver’s dark eyes pleaded for her understanding. “Do you trust me?”

Chloe lifted drowsy, green eyes to his. “With my life,” she whispered.

Oliver kissed her in answer then, planting his lips firmly, hard against hers. It was quick and frantic and a seal of her trust in him. He then grabbed her up more securely and headed toward the door. Chloe could do no more than gaze down at Philip as Oliver half-carried, half-dragged her away, past his prone form.

The door opened easily with the key he’d taken, much to Oliver’s surprise. Philip must not have secured it from the inside. Leery that at any moment they’d be caught, Oliver crept stealthily, flattened against the dimly lit corridor walls, keeping Chloe upright and on her feet with one arm, as he wielded Philip’s Desert Eagle in the other.

Chloe silently cursed the effects of her ability, willing herself to regain full strength to no avail. She wanted to protest. She wanted to tell him to leave her there, but she meant what she’d said. She trusted him with her life, and if anyone could get them out, Oliver could.

They neared a corner, and Oliver moved her behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist as she wilted gratefully against him, her cheek pressed against the smooth skin of his back. He peered around the edge. “Two guards,” he whispered, vaguely wondering why no one seemed to notice their escape thus far. He watched one guard stretch his legs out in front of him as he sat in a folding chair, while another paced restlessly nearby.

They waited. Oliver felt her begin to slide down the wall, and turning sideways, he promptly lifted her, holding her against him.

Just then, the corridor lights flickered, and then went out, leaving all in darkness for a moment, before secondary emergency lights came to life, offering minimal illumination.

“Shit,” Oliver mumbled.

“What are they doing?” she whispered.

“Not sure, but one of them is on the walkie-talkie. And they’re leaving now. I don’t like it.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Not when they’re supposed to be guarding an exit. Something’s not right. The power’s down. They’re running on a generator.”

“A changing of the guard,” she offered. “Power failure?”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed as the guards in their black fatigues trotted away. “I don’t think so.”

And then his heart sank. They knew. It was a trap. Leaving an exit unguarded, so that he and Chloe would be caught in an attempt to make their escape. What to do? This was the closest way out, and Oliver wasn’t certain Chloe could make it to the opposite side of the building, and chances of getting caught while traipsing through the compound would only increase. Having made a decision, he turned to her abruptly. “Come here,” he murmured, lifting her arms above her head, and crouching down low enough, he hoisted her effortlessly over his shoulder.

Chloe stifled the squeak that threatened to escape her throat as he lifted her. “Caveman,” she playfully accused in a hushed voice over her shoulder. She felt like a sack of potatoes, and just about as useful at the moment.

“You love it, babe,” he countered, palming her bottom affectionately. “Ready?”

“Go, before all the blood rushes to my head.”

Oliver smirked lightly, and moved toward the door; Chloe slung over his shoulder, Desert Eagle at the ready. If this were a trap, he’d find out soon enough. It was crazy, and dangerous. Oliver didn’t know what would await them outside. No doubt there would be guards there too, but the desire for freedom was too great, the need to get Chloe to safety too overwhelming to stop now.

* * * * *

Bart had gotten there first, and done recon with a quick, whirling sweep of the exterior of the Black Creek compound, giving Victor necessary basic information. The sun was setting by the time the rest of the team arrived, and once there, Victor had disabled the electrical, and the security systems. The place was crawling with guards and the team had no idea where Chloe and Oliver might be hidden.

The power outage had guards scurrying about, communicating with one another over walkie-talkie handsets; some giving, some receiving orders.

Victor and A.C. took care of the guards outside, one by one, two by two, stealthily dispatching them, and hiding unconscious bodies.

Bart watched from a discreet location at the approach of a black sedan. He tapped his comlink. “Boris and Natasha, right on time.”

“Aren’t you too young for Rocky and Bullwinkle?” Victor asked, watching from his hidden post as Lex and Tess exited the vehicle, and made their way toward the main entrance of the facility.

“He spends too much time watching old cartoons.” A.C. chimed in, taking a long swig from a water bottle.

“They’re awesome, what can I say?” Bart defended.

“Go find that generator and disable it, Impulse,” Victor ordered.

Bart shook his head, grinning. “On it, Mr. Wizard,” he said, before zooming off once more.

Tess glanced around, noting the lack of guards, and dimmed backup lights around the exterior. “Something’s wrong,” she said, and rushed to the entrance, Lex following behind. The door was unlocked, a dead giveaway that the security systems had been tampered with.

When she entered, what she saw stopped her in her tracks. A shirtless Oliver Queen stood mere feet away from her, a pistol aimed at her head, Chloe Sullivan slung over his shoulder.

“Sorry Tess, this reunion is over.” Oliver cocked the weapon, his expression stony and determined; deadly. “Get out of my way.”

Lex entered then, his own pistol drawn, aimed at Oliver. “I don’t think so.”

And then the voice of another from behind him somewhere, and Chloe’s soft gasp of recognition. “Put her down, Queen.”

It was Philip’s voice, and now Oliver, surrounded on both sides, defeated, yet refusing to relinquish neither gun nor the woman he carried, stood motionless; his aim at Tess’s head never wavering. He could do it. Shoot her right now. He watched her eyes, still widened at the sight of him. He should kill her now, for everything she’d done to him and to Chloe. He wondered how he could ever have been taken in by her, those many years ago on the island. Kill her, and end this. It would be so easy.

The tension grew thicker, as Lex watched Oliver’s murderous expression, almost delighting in it. He cocked his own pistol, his lips turning up slightly at the corners. “You shoot her, and then I shoot you. Remember what happens to Chloe when you’re dead?” he reminded.

“You son of a bitch,” Oliver spat venomously, still keeping his aim, his dark eyes never leaving his target.

The sudden sound of a click from behind him, let him know that Philip was also armed.

“Ollie,” Chloe whispered, pleading. She seemed to see no way out. Philip held the gun steady at Oliver’s back, Lex at his front. They were trapped, and the only end to the standoff seemed to be their surrender. As much as she hated to admit defeat, she knew it must be killing Oliver to be in this position at this moment. She had no idea what Lex’s taunting words meant. What would happen to her if Oliver were dead? Wouldn’t that be horrendous enough? Wouldn’t that be painful enough? What else could he possibly do to her that would hurt any more than the death of the man she loved? Chloe could think of nothing. Nothing in life would matter to her if he were dead.

It was her voice that broke the vengeful spell in Oliver’s soul, and his hand lowered a fraction. If Philip took a shot, he could possibly hit Chloe instead.

“That’s it,” Lex crooned, taking a measured step closer. “Drop the gun, and put Chloe down.”

It was then that the secondary lights went out, leaving them all in a sudden shroud of black darkness.

End Chapter 11

A/N: I am so, so, so sorry for the huge delay in this story. I confess that work, and life in general has been keeping me busy with no time for writing. I’ll also add here, that the show itself has been a downer for me, and taken away some of my joy in writing about it. I’m already working on the next chapter, and things will be wrapping up shortly. I’m hoping to work on more Chlollie stories as well. Thanks to everyone for your patience! Love to all. :)

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