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, July 18, 2009

Signal Fire Chapter 12

Signal Fire
Chapter 12

Oliver didn’t waste time. The initial shock of darkness would wear off in moments once all eyes were adjusted, and he had to move quickly. The last remnants of daylight still faintly diffusing their way through clouded windows, would offer just enough light to make out various shapes.

He spun, heading back toward Philip, figuring his odds would be better attempting to slip past one person, rather than two. Chloe, to her credit, remained as silent as possible, for all the jostling endured as he whipped around, and moved through the corridor, squinting and focusing so as not to knock into anyone or anything.

Lex lost sight of them, and Philip heard the footfalls, sensed and felt the soft rush of air pass him, saw the hint of Chloe’s blond hair. “Freeze!” he called after them aiming his weapon in their general direction, but the shape kept moving.

“Shoot him!” Tess called, and when Philip hesitated, as the vague, fuzzy shadow of Oliver’s form carrying Chloe rounded the corner, she became livid, removing her own sidearm, in pursuit. “You idiot!” she screeched. “You could have had them!”

Even in the dark, Philip had the decency to look roundly chastised. “I couldn’t get a clear shot,” he defended.

Lex’s voice sounded from behind her, stopping her up short. “Tess, wait. They won’t escape, and if they do, we’ll find them, and if we don’t, they won’t survive the Montana wilderness for long. Either way, we win.” Lex took out the handset from his pocket, speaking into it as he stepped away, trying to survey the darkened area with minimal success. “Get this power back on, immediately!”

Tess shoved at Philip. “After them. Now! I’m holding you personally responsible for this mess!”

Philip did as she ordered. He could move faster, thanks to the gift of Luthorcorp legs and Project Ares. He tried to remind himself that he owed his life to Lex, but after all he’d witnessed here, he wasn’t certain gratitude was what he was feeling at the moment. This is my last mission, he vowed, thinking that whatever debt he may owe Luthor, should now be paid in full. And once again, his dream of moving back to Metropolis to settle down to a quiet, normal life resurfaced.

Chloe. She had fooled him, and he’d allowed himself to believe her, his judgment clouded by his feelings for her. Oddly enough, he felt no anger or resentment toward her over it. Oliver Queen was the man she loved. How could he blame her for using his own lust against him, employing the weapons in her feminine arsenal if she thought it would save the man she loved? Philip felt a twinge of envy as he ran, rounding a corner and entering a new corridor, searching for where they might have gone through the darkened facility. He’d give anything to have a woman love him as much as Chloe loved Oliver Queen. A woman willing to put herself in danger for him, devote herself to him. He’d seen them together. He’d seen the deep love between them; before, during and after the tortures they’d endured. He should have known. He could never come between them.

Lex thought he’d won. He thought he was the ultimate puppet master. Thought he knew all about the deception of war, and maybe that was true. But Lex knew nothing about the power of love, and that would be his eventual downfall. Even if he succeeded in killing both of them, he’d still never be victorious. For all Lex had orchestrated to separate Queen from the woman he loved, all he’d achieved was to further cement their bond.

Philip rounded another corner, and just as he’d once surprised the Green Arrow in an abandoned home, he’d found that he’d run right smack into a shocking, sudden fisted bomb to the face. Philip staggered backward, starbursts appearing before him, his eyes watering, nose stinging horribly; he felt the warmth of blood filling his nostrils and flowing down over his mouth.

“That’s for touching her,” he heard Oliver’s low growl as he attempted to recover from the blow, shaking it off. As he righted himself, Oliver spun, and Philip was met with a booted foot to the midsection, causing the air to whoosh out of him with a grunt of pain, his body lurching backward from the impact, slamming against a wall. “That’s for your little scheme with Adriana,” Oliver slugged him again, grunting. “And your damned article.” Oliver’s voice was hushed and raspy, yet filled with rage.

Philip, for all his training, gun still in hand; didn’t have the heart to fight back this time. And when Oliver began methodically pumping brutal fists, pummeling into his face and torso, like a prizefighter who had his opponent against the ropes, Philip’s legs gave way, causing him to slide down the wall, landing on his bottom in a heap. Pain thundered through him as he sensed another strike aimed at his head, fogging his brain as dizziness overcame him and he thought he’d lose consciousness at any moment.

“Ollie! You’ll kill him!” came Chloe’s panicked voice pleading from some nearby corner.
Moments before, Oliver had placed her gently along the corridor wall, when they’d heard someone’s footfalls close behind them. He’d handed her the gun, and readied himself for the surprise attack, not knowing whom to expect. That it was Philip somehow made his rage sweeter. Once again her voice had stopped him, and now she stood on shaky legs approaching them. Oliver stood panting, a faint sheen of sweat glimmered over his chest in the dimness like violence radiating from his skin, his knuckles bruised, fists clenched out at his sides, still in a fighting stance over the fallen body of Philip seated limply against the wall. He gazed down, eyes burning with fury at the man who’d played a major role in Lex’s orchestrated drama, daring him to make a move.

Chloe moved to Oliver’s side, and raised the Desert Eagle, her hand trembling with the effort, and pointed it at Philip, his breathing labored. “You did that?” she asked in disbelief, and he could hear the hurt and dismay in her voice. “Why?” She’d known he had been behind her abduction, but hadn’t known the extent of it.

Philip didn’t answer, only lifted swollen eyes to her, trying to discern her features in the darkness.

“You wrote that article? You put it on my desk, didn’t you? You had Adriana go to Del Monaco’s. That’s why you wanted me to meet Oliver there. There was no political source named Mr. Ambrose, was there?” Philip heard the click of the pistol as she cocked it. “Why?” she demanded. Her tear-laced voice cut through his heart. “How much did Lex pay you?” she asked, sniffling back the tears, her voice now hardened. “Was it enough? Enough to be bought and sold, and used?”

Philip struggled to catch his breath. He couldn’t explain to her why he’d done it. At one time he felt he owed Lex his life, but he couldn’t explain. Not now, when his reasons for helping Luthor no longer seemed to exist. She was right; he had merely been another puppet for Lex to use. Philip shifted his head against the wall to find Oliver’s shadowed form still in the same position, ready to strike him again at any moment. “Take her,” he breathed through parted lips, licking away the blood. “Take her and go,” he paused to swallow down the blood and saliva that had begun to fill his mouth and throat. “I’ll do what I can to hold them off. Just… get out of here.” And to prove his sincerity he added, “Take my gun. You’ll need it.” He turned the pistol in his hand, raising it so that Oliver could grasp the handle. “It’s fully loaded.”

Oliver’s body relaxed somewhat, and he took the proffered weapon cautiously. Chloe never took her eyes from Philip, her gun still aimed at him, shaky and unsteady in her grasp. She had regained some strength, but was not completely restored.

“Take care of her,” he indicated Chloe with a movement of his head. “Now go,” he urged softly, and watched as Oliver gently touched her arm, sliding his hand toward her wrist, easing it down.
Even in the dimness, he could see her expression soften, and for that Philip was grateful. Somehow he knew it would be the last time he’d ever see her, and he couldn’t bear to have her last gaze upon him, be one of disdain.

Oliver took the gun from her hand, un-cocked it, slipping it into the waistband of his black B.D.U. pants, and put an arm around her, turning her. As they made their way down the darkened hallway, she looked back over her shoulder, trying to discern the shape of Philip against the concrete wall. His black uniform made it difficult, but she knew he was still there.

He was letting them go. She didn’t know why, and maybe she shouldn’t ponder it. The sound of approaching voices and the echo of running feet had Oliver grabbing her up once more, pulling her along at a faster pace. He knew another exit had to be nearby, and he’d hoped they’d not find much resistance once they got there.

While Lex barked orders into his handset, Tess grew impatient with waiting. She wanted to find Chloe and Oliver; refused to allow them to escape. The games were over. There’d be no more torture, now all she wanted was death for them, and nothing else would do. Finally, she’d put her loathing and her rage against Oliver to an end. His end. She’d be rid of a man she could never control, and never have. She and Lex would finally be rid of the terrorist who’d attempted to destroy them. They could continue their work unmolested, studying and recruiting meta-humans to fight against the coming invasion. Chloe’s ability would be a loss, but it was a loss Tess could live with.

She glanced back at Lex, still attempting to communicate to his men, but most of them seemed to have disappeared during the power outage. It was no matter. She’d handle this, and settle the score once and for all.

While Lex’s attention was diverted, she trotted in the direction Philip had headed. Moving carefully, pistol drawn, her eyes searched the dimness, growing ever darker now with the onset of nightfall. Lex called after her, but she was too far now. She’d take care of everything for him. He had entrusted her with Luthorcorp after all; surely she could handle this.

Tess followed the path toward the opposite exit. That’s probably where they were headed. As she moved through the corridor nearing an intersection, something or someone appeared to be slumped against the wall. Raising her pistol, she stepped toward him. Lex called for her again, his voice sounding much closer now. She ignored him.

The dark object on the floor turned out to be Philip. From what she could see of him, he’d been badly beaten. She raised her weapon, directing at him. “Where are they? What happened?” she demanded.

Philip shifted on the floor. “He caught me by surprise. I lost them.”

“You fool. Get up.”

“I can’t."

“Don’t tell me Queen did this. I though you were… special. Did your added strength suddenly disappear?”

“I told you. He caught me by surprise. I didn’t know he was there.”

Tess didn’t believe him. She knew that Philip was one of the first Project Ares prototypes. She knew more about him than he thought. “I think you let them go,” she accused. “Too soft on Ms. Sullivan, perhaps?” She nudged him with her foot. “You’ve gone soft. You’re no soldier,” she taunted, her voice laced with bitterness. “Get up,” she ordered. “Help me find them.”


Tess was becoming more livid with each passing moment. This was her chance to get them back, to finally kill Oliver, to make Lex proud. She moved the pistol menacingly, cocking it. “You can’t, or you won’t?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t matter. Not anymore,” she whispered between clenched teeth, and fired.

Philip, already hurting, felt the impact of the bullet enter his chest. She’d kill him, he knew, but before she fired another shot, before he died here, he’d show her how much of a soldier he truly was. She’d said he wasn’t a soldier, she knew nothing of what she spoke. He’d endured much worse than this, seen things she’d never imagine, and with the last bit of strength he had, he reached for the blade hidden in his boot, grasped the handle, and flung it in her direction. And though split seconds passed between her first shot, and his throwing of the blade, it seemed to travel in slow motion, end-over-end as he watched it embed itself perfectly, exactly where he wanted it. He was a soldier. Philip felt his shirt becoming soaked with the warmth of his blood as he watched her, felt the life ebbing from his body. He still had it, and despite his pain, a small grin curved his lips.

Tess’s eyes widened, her mouth agape as she gasped for breath at the sudden, searing pain emanating from her chest. She lowered her head to find a knife plunged to the hilt into her breast, a numbness engulfing her; she could do no more than stare at it in disbelief, as though some oddity had suddenly grown from her. She couldn’t breath. Sinking to her knees, the gun falling from her hand, she thought she heard Lex calling her name once more.
Lex caught her up, before she fell sideways.

“Philip,” she gasped, and then said no more. She wilted, her eyes suddenly turning cold and lifeless.

Lex lowered her to the floor gently, and approached Philip. He crouched next to him. “I’ll get you out of here, Philip. We’ll fix you up. You’ll be better soon. Better than you’ve ever been before. We still have serum from Ms. Sullivan’s blood.”

Philip attempted to shake his head. If Lex fixed him, he’d only be further indebted to him, and Philip thought he’d rather die, than owe his life to Luthor. He’d never be free. “Tess,” Philip gasped, coughing up blood, unable to breath, barely able to speak. “I killed her.”

Lex lifted his head, his eyes narrowed, searching the darkness for her body, lying in a fetal position on the floor. A brief smile flitted to his lips. “Yes. Collateral damage. An unfortunate accident,” was all he said, then reached once more for his handset, calling for men to help carry Philip to the infirmary.

* * * * *

Oliver shoved the exit door open as a shot rang out from somewhere behind them. The sound had them both stopping in their tracks briefly. They looked at one another, unspoken panic communicated between them. Oliver pulled her through the door, gun drawn, expecting guards to be surrounding them. There was no one. It had grown darker, shadowing the compound and the surrounding landscape in a deep blue haze. He didn’t know where they were going, as long as it was away from here. If they could make it to where vehicles were parked, perhaps they’d find a car, hell he’d be happy to find his motorcycle, but he didn’t want to stay near the compound for too long, fearing discovery.

Philip had given them this chance. Oliver didn’t know why. Maybe the man had a conscience after all. He wondered who’d fired the shot they’d heard, and then decided that it was probably for the best that he didn’t know.

Chloe seemed to read his mind as they picked their way over rocks and through shrubs, coming around to the front of the compound, where most of the cars and other vehicles were parked. “Who do you think that was? Why isn’t anyone around? Something’s not right, Ollie,” she whispered as she clung to his arm.

Oliver stopped for a moment, feeling light-headed, suddenly realizing he was unable to recall the last time he’d eaten. Before he could answer, there was a whirl of dust blowing around them, and when it stopped, Bart stood in front of them.

“About time you guys got here,” was all Oliver said, causing the wide smile on Bart’s face to fall. Oliver noted his friend’s expression, and immediately regretted his tone.

“Glad to see you too, amigo.”

“I’m sorry, Bart. I’m glad to see you too. It’s… it’s just a long story,” he placed an apologetic hand on Bart’s shoulder, and clasped his hand, shaking it in gratitude as they continued to walk in the direction the younger man indicated.

The smile returned to Bart’s face. “Yeah well, next time you decide to go off by yourself, don’t leave stupid binary code messages that no one but Victor can figure out. Took him forever to decipher your text message. He got the flight records though.”

“Wait. How long have you been here? Is that why there are no guards posted?” Chloe asked. “And the power?”

“Yup. We took care of all of it. In fact we were just about to bust into the place when we heard the gunshot, and then saw you two coming out. Looks like you handled it pretty well without us.”

“No. If it weren’t for you guys cutting the power, and taking care of the guards, we might not have made it out. It was a stupid idea, and I never should have left without the team,” Oliver said as they approached the League van used for missions, hidden behind an overgrowth of rock. “They threatened to hurt Chloe if I didn’t come alone.”

“You should know better than that,” Victor admonished, jumping out from the hold, as Bart hopped in. Vic clasped Oliver’s hand in greeting. “Team leader still needs a team.”

Oliver winced at Victor’s grip, his knuckles sore from having used Philip as a punching bag. He nodded his agreement sheepishly, glad that the ordeal was over for now. What would happen next, he didn’t know. Tess, Lex, and Philip were still inside the compound, still capable of their own brand of evil, and Oliver knew this wasn’t over yet. The team would come back and take care of this place, but neither he nor Chloe would be safe as long as Tess was hell bent on revenge. And Philip. He had let them go, but Oliver still didn’t trust the man. The return of Lex was another story entirely.

“How’s our Tower?” Victor asked, putting his arm around Chloe. She smiled up at him, grateful and relieved to be among her friends again. “I’m fine, thanks, and happy you’re all here. I just want to go home.”

“Your chariot awaits, milady,” he grinned, giving her shoulder a squeeze before turning back to the van and climbing in.

Oliver turned to her. “Home. Metropolis?” He wanted, needed her to be sure.

Chloe smiled up at him, placing her hands on the smooth skin of his chest. “No. Home is wherever you are.”

Oliver grinned, swept her up in his arms, and capturing her lips with his, he kissed her so thoroughly and possessively, that Chloe knew she’d lost herself in him.

A.C. popped his head out from the driver’s side of the van. “Hey, I’m kicking your ass later Queen, but right now we need to get the hell out of here.”

End Chapter 12

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