Yin and Yang: Chloe and Oliver Oneshot

Title: Yin and Yang
Pairing: Chloe/Oliver
Author: Genevieve
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Oliver decides to train Chloe
A/N: This little ficlet was inspired by manips made by kc_2009 of LiveJournal, aka Kryptochloe at Ksite , and used with her permission, cuz we make a great team like that. This is written a little differently, a bit quirky, but I hope you enjoy.

Yin and Yang

Day 1

She waits for him impatiently, not really wanting to do this. She doesn’t see a reason. When he enters the makeshift gym, wearing nothing but black sweat pants, she swallows. She wants to tell him to put a shirt on, then thinks better of it. She folds her arms over her chest and scowls instead to show her displeasure.

“Ready?” he asks with his charming grin, somehow knowing she’s not entirely displeased.

“I still don’t see why I have to do this.”

“I think the shiner you’re wearing is proof enough.”

She juts her chin out defiantly, well, as defiantly as she can with a black eye. “I handled it.”

“Right,’ he says, lifting her chin with his fingertips, inspecting her slightly fading injury, his brows knitting with concern she doesn’t want to see.

He tapes up her knuckles, his touch almost too gentle, and she notices for the first time how large his hands are in comparison to hers. He fits her with red boxing gloves. She feels ridiculous.

Until he stands behind her, and grasps her elbows. He’s only showing her the correct fighting stance after all. But his body is too close, and she’s eyeing the heavy bag warily. Good thing he can’t see her face, because she’s not sure if the uneasy expression is for the bag in front of her or the man behind her. Does it matter?



Day 5

They’ve been at this for five mornings now. In a row. Five mornings of torture. Stretches, yoga, meditation, Tai chi, mock duels. It’s not so bad really, and sometimes she enjoys it, more than she thought she would. Especially the first time she actually takes him down. She can’t help but gloat and smile. He laughs good-naturedly. Secretly, he’s proud of her. She’s sassy. He likes it.

Day 10

Maybe he can do handstands, but she can’t, and no matter how many times he’s grasped her ankles and held her up, her body eventually starts leaning in one direction or another as soon as he lets go. There’s a moment though, when she can hold herself up, and then she comes tumbling down like Humpty Dumpty, his hands grasp her upturned thighs in an effort to catch her, and he comes tumbling after, and somehow they’re laughing on the floor, and suddenly his face becomes serious and his eyes darken, and he’s looking at her with that look. Her heart flutters.

He clears his throat, blinks, looks away. “Maybe that’s enough for today, Sidekick.” He mutters, and leaves the room, heading for the shower.

Day 15

She’s sure she’s got this whole tai chi, fighting thing down by now, only now she’s fighting herself. He stands beside her in all his shirtless glory as they ease into the next position like a dance, and she wonders how she’s supposed to concentrate.

She doesn’t notice that he’s fighting too.

Focusing the mind on movements of the body is supposed to bring about mental peace and clarity.

Neither of them is feeling peaceful.

But maybe there’s clarity. Just a little.

She beats the crap out of the heavy bag later. He’s thoroughly impressed. But not enough to end their training sessions. Not yet.

She smiles at his praise. He melts a just little.



Day 20

“It’s called pushing hands,” he explains close to her ear behind her. His voice makes her entire body tingle. She closes her eyes, relishing the sound of it, the feel of his body at her back. Concentrate.

Pushing hands works to undo a person’s natural instinct to resist force with force, teaching the body to yield to force and redirect it. She’s wearing this skintight black workout outfit. It’s torture. And he wonders vaguely why he’s resisting, why he doesn’t yield and redirect the force of energy she has over him. His hands linger a little too long at her waist as he positions her. He pulls her just a little too closely against his body. If his hands had a mind of their own, they’d be going places he didn’t want to think about right now. His breathing is heavier, and he almost groans out loud. And worse, she notices.

She has to notice. But she’s not protesting, and he realizes that she hasn’t protested anything in at least a week.

Day 25

Training with a partner allows a student to develop ting jing (listening power), the sensitivity to feel the direction and strength of a partner's intention.

His intentions are not good. Well, they are, but.. not. He’s sure she knows. She doesn’t seem to mind though. She flirts with him over the comm later during a mission. He eats it up. And right there in the middle of a mission he thinks he just might have fallen.

Day 30

They are getting good at this. Yin and Yang. Male and female. She anticipates his movement, and redirects him. He knows her too, senses her now before she even begins to move. He knows her in a way he’s never known anyone else.

She saves his life. He saves hers. She guides him. He listens. She heals him. He protects her. Watchtower and Green Arrow. Oliver and Chloe. Man and Woman. Yin and Yang.

He stands behind her, arms coming around her, it’s almost an embrace, his hands gently push against hers. Eyes closed, mental peace, and then clarity. And it’s all so clear now, so loud in the silence, it makes them both wonder why they hadn’t seen it before. Why they resisted.

Yin and Yang. Female and Male. Watchtower and Green Arrow. Chloe and Oliver. She’s become the other part of him somehow.

Chloe knows him. So well it doesn’t even scare her anymore. When he moves again, she's right there, he redirects her, she moves with him then redirects him. Male and female. Green Arrow and Watchtower. Oliver and Chloe. He’s become the other part of her somehow.

He moves, she follows. She moves, he follows.

They’re standing face to face, bodies brushing from breast to hip. They become still, as still as the silence between them. He’s giving her that look. And this time she’s returning it.

Yielding to the force, he moves. She follows. And when their lips touch, meeting breathlessly for the first time, there’s clarity. There’s peace. Yin and Yang. The perfect balance. Oliver and Chloe. Chloe and Oliver. Friends. Lovers.



End Oneshot

Signal Fire chapter 15

Signal Fire

Chapter 15

In a span of two weeks, there were three more murders with all indications pointing to the Green Arrow. Someone claiming to be the Green Arrow called in a bomb threat to the mayor’s office that had all of Star City at a standstill for an entire day, a bank robbery. Terrified bank tellers and patrons said a man wielding a crossbow, dressed in a hooded, green leather costume along with several accomplices dressed in black fatigues, their faces covered with ski-masks had demanded the money.

Lex noted that Queen had been silent and nearly invisible through these incidents. Chloe Sullivan continued her defense of the Green Arrow, through continued editorials and articles. She’d been making a name for herself in Star City over the past weeks with well-written rebuttals to criticism of the Emerald Archer, proving the crimes to be the work of an impostor and creating doubt among the citizens of Star City, rallying many of them behind the true Emerald Archer. But the public wanted to know where the real Green Arrow was hiding, and why he’d remain silent over an impostor hell bent on ruining him. A call rose up for him to defend himself publicly. Little did they know, he already was, through Chloe’s written words.

Philip entered Lex’s hidden Star City office, removing the dark glasses, and pulling the green hood down as he tossed the fresh copy of the Star City Gazette on top of Lex’s mahogany desk, over some building blueprints he’d been studying and marking up with red ink.

“Is it over now?”

Lex’s eyes swept over the headlines and fuzzy video camera photos from the bank heist. When his gaze lifted to Philip, still dressed in the Green Arrow’s costume, his blue eyes turned hard and cold. Philip had been out making mischief tonight. “Hardly. Queen is trying to ruin me. They’re finalizing the takeover of LexCorp.” Lex pushed himself up from his chair and stood, rounding his desk. “And preparing to celebrate my demise with a big party in Gotham,” he said, stepping over to the mini-bar in his office.

“Tess ruined you. Not Queen.”

Lex grasped the nearest bottle, smirking lightly. “Yes. And she’s dead.”

“When will this stop?”

“When I’ve achieved the complete and utter downfall of Oliver Queen,” Lex retorted, as if that were obvious.

“Mr. Luthor.”

“No one is indestructible, Philip.”

“Including yourself.”

Lex poured amber liquid into a glass. “I like that about you. You’re not afraid to speak your mind.”

“When,” Philip demanded.

“There’s one more thing I have in mind,” he gestured toward his desk, where he’d been working on the newest plan.

Philip’s eyes flicked briefly toward the building schematics on the desk; half covered by the newspaper he’d just tossed there. He waited. “Attack them at the party?”

A short haughty laugh escaped the back of Lex’s throat. “Come now, Philip. Wouldn’t that be too obvious?” Lex took a seat behind his desk once more; drink in hand. He swirled it around, gazing into the liquid as though it held all the answers. “How do you feel about visiting your old place of employment?” Lex lifted his eyes then, gauging Philip’s response.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, all those editorials in praise of the Green Arrow. Every time the he commits a crime, she seems to find all the inconsistencies in the evidence, all the mistakes, and she turns them around, thwarting our efforts, turning them into one big conspiracy theory against the Green Arrow. People believe what she writes. It’s a bit annoying, don’t you think?” Lex leaned back in his chair, lifting the glass to his lips, sipping quietly as he eyed Philip over the rim.

For all he’d turned completely to the side of darkness, Philip’s heart wrenched at Lex’s implication. Chloe was the only secret light that remained inside of him. Something precious he kept hidden away from the world, most times even from himself. Gone were dreams of a home and family and a quiet life as a reporter in Metropolis. He’d become someone else now. Someone he didn’t care to know, or consider too closely. “You want Queen, fine. Go after him. You don’t need Chloe Sullivan.”

“I do want Queen, I am going after him, and Chloe Sullivan is the best way to achieve my goal. You know that as well as I do, maybe better,” he intoned meaningfully. “Let’s give her one last thing to write about, shall we?”

“What are you planning?”

“Next week. Monday morning, the Green Arrow will call in a bomb threat from the Star City Gazette building.”

“Another bomb threat?”

“This one’s real.”

“Mr. Luthor…”

“You’ll need all the men we can round up. Rig the entire building with explosives, then swarm it, holding hostages, releasing them gradually over a period of time of course, with the exception of one; Ms. Sullivan. And then we barter for her life. Queen would pay whatever price the ‘Green Arrow’ demanded, I’m sure,” Lex nearly smiled at the twisted irony of it all, his eyes glazing over briefly, as he imagined the scene and how it would all unfold. “What do you think, ten million? That would be nothing to Queen, especially to save the woman he loved.” Lex took another sip of his drink, relishing the burn as the liquid warmed his throat.

“Mr. Luthor…”

“Once the drop is made,” Lex put his now empty glass down on the desk with finality. “You’ll have to kill her,” he went on unaffected, rising once more from his chair, and moving closer, stepping around Philip. “The ‘Green Arrow’ kills the one person who’s been his staunchest public supporter. I think that would put an end to the debate, don’t you?”

Philip’s lips pressed together, thinning in an anguished grimace; every part of his body and soul screaming to be released from this dark, inescapable prison. He’d gone too far, was in too deep, and now there seemed to be no way out. He shook his head, one simple word leaving him in a fervent rush, his voice deepening like gravel. “No.”

“Your concern for Ms. Sullivan is noted, and oddly, quite touching. But if you don’t kill her, one of my other men will,” Lex threatened smoothly, circling Philip, coming to stand behind him as Philip turned his gaze to the floor between his feet, his breath becoming erratic, the heat of the form-fitting, green leather costume suffocating him.

He continued to shake his head. “No,” he ground out with rough anxiety.

“Kill her. Kill her and get her out of your blood once and for all.” Lex lowered his voice meaningfully, taunting quietly close behind. “She’ll never be yours Philip. Not now. Not ever. You’ll never have her. How does it feel knowing that? Having to live with that knowledge?” Lex lowered his head, stopping momentarily, his voice hard and resentful. “I know what it’s like to love a woman you can never have. It’s not fair that a man like Oliver Queen has a woman like Chloe by his side. He doesn’t deserve her love. Not the way you do. But there is something you can do about the injustice.”

At this Philip turned around, anguished eyes staring at the man in front of him in disbelief. Killing Chloe would be killing the last decent part of himself that remained. “I can’t.”

Lex returned Philip’s gaze. “Take from Oliver Queen what you’ve been denied,” he urged, his voice was velvet, yet edged with steel. “Destroy that which you can never have; finally be rid of her. It’s the only way to keep her from haunting you forever, and wondering ‘what if’. You owe me Philip. You owe me your life, twice over. I own you. Chloe Sullivan dies on Monday. Would you rather she die by someone else’s hand, or yours?”

* * * * *

Every day he read the papers, news feeds, the Internet articles about the latest crimes the Green Arrow had committed. And every time, Chloe was right behind the scenes, getting information from police sources, the coroner’s office, investigators; completing her own research. She’d written some of the most amazing work he’d ever read, and though he anguished over the horrible things done by someone using one of his costumes and his gear, he couldn’t come out publicly and simply proclaim himself as the Green Arrow; he couldn’t defend himself. Chloe was his best chance of fighting back right now.

She’d watch him silently as he read the latest. Watched his face. The sadness, the anger, the frustration that crossed his features, feeling helpless to do much more than use the power of the pen to fight back. She’d go to him silently, and gently lay her hands on his shoulders, and he’d reach for her, accepting her comfort, and offering his own.

Until Lex made a grave mistake, until he made a move, it seemed there was nothing more they could do. They didn’t know where he was, or how he’d been orchestrating events, or where he’d strike next. They didn’t know who had been posing as the Green Arrow. Was it Philip? Chloe had her suspicions. Philip and Oliver were of similar build and height. The suit would probably fit him. She tried to remember any other guards who might be able to don the green leather, but they were a blur in her mind. She hadn’t paid close enough attention in the sea of nameless, faceless guards in black fatigues in their time at Black Creek.

It weighed heavily on both of them, but Chloe wasn’t going to give up. So when the final merger was completed, and Bruce had invited them to celebrate the takeover of LexCorp with a gala, meant mainly to create public spectacle as an insult to Lex, Chloe insisted that they go. Since they’d returned from Black Creek, they’d remained somewhat secluded in the manor. They had to put on a show, for the public, and most of all to show Lex that no matter what he did, he wouldn’t stop them. Besides, she’d said, as she’d wrapped her arms around his neck; it would be the first time they’d been out at such a swanky event in awhile, and it was a good excuse to enjoy themselves for the first time in weeks. Oliver’s answering smile, and the soft kiss pressed to her forehead lightened her heart.

Despite the recent turmoil, Chloe couldn’t help but be a bit excited. She’d never been to Gotham City before. The city was a mix of old and new, brick and glass, gothic and modern structures that said eclectic, if not confused. Somehow it worked, and Chloe found herself quite intrigued and fascinated by it all.

As soon as Oliver exited the limo in front of the Gotham Arts Centre, the camera flashes erupted, interspersed with those calling his name, and asking who accompanied him. Was there someone new? Had Ms. Sullivan left him after the rumors of his infidelity were published weeks ago? They quieted somewhat as he reached for her, waiting. Oliver winked at her as they shared a smile, then took her hand in his, giving her an affectionate squeeze. At once, a deluge of lights flashed rapidly, and the sounds of voices, whistles, catcalls, and a few cheers rose up at the sight of Ms. Sullivan dressed in a white halter gown. She was beautiful. Oliver’s eyes danced with amusement as he looked at her, and then he turned, presenting her proudly. Oliver stopped on the red carpet, pulling her close to his side, and they wrapped their arms around one another, Oliver leaning in, smiling for yet another photographer. A few paparazzi shouted out questions, which Oliver politely ignored, merely waving at the crowd, his smile genuine. He then whisked her away toward the entrance of the Gotham Arts Centre.

“Should they be so surprised?” she asked, as Oliver took her hand, tucking it beneath his arm, holding her close.

“We’ve laid low recently. I’m sure they were wondering.”

“I’m glad that’s over with,” she sighed, as they entered the building.

Oliver chuckled lightly. “Me too.” He looked down at her, mischief lighting his eyes. “They’re obviously happy that I haven’t traded you in yet.”

“Or that I haven’t dumped your rich, worthless behind.”

This time a genuine laugh erupted, causing Chloe to realize that it was a sound she’d missed lately. He stopped just inside the closed entrance doorway, reaching for her other hand and pulling her up against him, not caring who might be watching them. “How’d I get so lucky, Mistress Watchtower?” he whispered.

“Queen charm.”

Oliver kissed the smile from her lips. He’d have continued kissing her if a host hadn’t cleared his throat, welcoming them, and ushering them into the large reception room.

Chloe met Bruce Wayne once, when he’d come to Queen Manor to offer suggestions on the building of the Green Arrow room. That was months ago, and since that time, her curiosity had been piqued. She wondered aloud, “Are you going to ask him?”

“Maybe,” Oliver answered, covering her hand with his, absently stroking her fingers.

“I think he’d be a great asset,” she said, taking in the sight of the huge banquet hall, and the various occupants, all dressed for the lavish occasion. An orchestra played soft dinner music at the far end of the room. Waiters meandered about in white jackets serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres.

“I think he prefers flying solo.”

A passing waiter offered them champagne in gold-tipped fluted glasses. Oliver passed one to Chloe. “What should we toast to?” she asked feeling giddy just being out somewhere with him. She held her drink aloft.

He smiled at her, his brown eyes like warm chocolate as he regarded her. He raised his own glass. “To mergers. And I don’t mean the business kind.”

“The pleasurable kind?”

“The spend the rest of your life with me, kind.”

Chloe’s smile softened as his eyes searched hers, waiting, expectant, hopeful. Suddenly speechless, her heart fluttering wildly, she could barely breathe. She hadn’t expected him to… to….

He hadn’t expected it either. For a while now, he’d been waiting for the right time to ask her in the proper way. But there never seemed to be a right time. And now, the words simply left his lips without conscious thought, surprising even himself. He’d always been able to read her eyes. They betrayed her every emotion. He’d always known, since the first time he’d ever kissed her that cool, crisp night on the balcony of his Metropolis penthouse almost a year ago. He knew he would kiss her then, even as she sputtered her protests over why they’d never work; her eyes told him her true feelings. Her stunned silence now didn’t worry him. It was there in beautiful green eyes that gazed up at him. He knew what her answer would be.

A voice interrupted the moment. “Oliver.”

It took a few long seconds for the couple to tear their eyes from one another.

Oliver recovered first, turning to the man who’d approached. “Bruce. Good to see you again.” He shifted the champagne from one hand to the other and the two men shook in greeting. Oliver gestured toward the woman beside him. “You remember Chloe.”

Chloe blinked, regaining her senses, and lifted her own hand toward the dark haired man before her. “Mr. Wayne,” she smiled at him, and Oliver could see that even the brooding Batman was enchanted. Chloe’s smile did that to everyone.

Bruce took her hand, holding it in his. “Please, call me Bruce,” he answered, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. “No need for formalities here.” Bruce squeezed her hand gently before releasing it. “I’ve been reading your editorials and articles in the Star City Gazette, Chloe.” He turned to Oliver. “You’ve got an amazing woman here, Queen.”


“I know,” Oliver grinned, slipping a hand at her waist.

Chloe felt the heat rushing to her cheeks at the compliments. Bruce was no doubt a charmer in his way as well. She wondered if it was a trait of all handsome billionaire crime fighters with secret identities.

Oliver lowered his voice. “We don’t know where he his, or who’s impersonating the Green Arrow.”

Bruce stepped closer to the couple, closing the gap in order to speak more privately. He cast a furtive glance around before speaking. “This takeover is hurting him more than we thought it would. He’s desperate. He’ll make a mistake, and when he does, we’ll be there.” He looked as though he wanted to say more, but cast a quick glance at Chloe, recovering a look of concern with a quick smile. He’d speak to Oliver later in private. “Enjoy the evening,” was all he said, before silently walking away.

After dinner, Oliver led her to the dance floor, where other couples whirled around them, as they seemed to stand still in comparison, bodies gently swaying in unison. Neither of them mentioned the earlier toast and talk of mergers, but each of them thinking of it. After their dance, one of the hosts came to ask Oliver to meet with Mr. Wayne. Oliver followed the gentleman out onto a veranda where Bruce waited.

After the host left, and Bruce was certain they were alone, he spoke, staring out onto the darkened gardens below. “She’s important to you,” he said without preamble.

“Very.”

Bruce nodded, then lifted his eyes to Oliver. “She’s a target.”

“She and I both know this. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“But it could be the last. Are you prepared for that?”

Oliver’s heart skipped a beat at the words, and he wondered what Bruce knew, but wasn’t revealing.

“He’s ruined. He’ll do anything now,” Bruce continued. “I’ve dealt with his brand of evil before.”

“So has Chloe.”

“She knows who you are, she knows who I am…”

“She’d never reveal that to anyone. She’s part of what I do, what my team does.”

“That makes her more valuable to him.”

“No different than any other member of the team.”

“You love her.”

“Yes.”

“That’s the difference.” Bruce turned as if to walk away, then stopped, speaking over his shoulder. “Keep her safe. If you need me, let me know.”

End Chapter 15

Click Here For Chapter 16

Signal Fire Chapter 14

Signal Fire

Chapter 14

“Ollie! Holy shit! Come look at this! Quick!” Bart’s agitated voice sounded loudly from the conference room in the Arrow command center. He rose from the overstuffed chair, remote control in hand raising the volume as Chloe, Oliver, Victor and A.C. trotted into the open space, eyes wide at the images appearing on the screen. The words, Breaking News: GREEN ARROW MURDERS? Emblazoned beneath the newscaster in large white letters.

“Oh my God,” Chloe gasped softly, reaching up to grip Oliver’s arm in shock.

The blonde anchorwoman spoke as they watched taped footage of emergency personnel wheeling a covered body from an abandoned warehouse. “It appears that Star City’s most famous vigilante may have inexplicably traded sides, as evidence implicates that either the Green Arrow, or a copycat may have committed more than one murder. The body of Adriana Spencer, ex-wife of former Star City Sanitation Commissioner, James Spencer was found last night in the warehouse district near the Oceanside Docks….”

“What?” Oliver’s astonished voice cut through the newscast, as gooseflesh raised the hairs on his arms.

“…. Preliminary evidence suggests an arrow, similar to those used by the Emerald Archer, was shot through the woman’s heart, killing her instantly. Police are conducting forensics, as well as trying to determine if there is any connection to another murder; the body discovered only this morning, identified an hour ago as Tess Mercer.

The image cut to that of a police official addressing the media. He spoke amid intermittent camera flashes, and reporters shouting questions. “The bodies of two women were found within a mile of each other in the Oceanside Docks area, each with similar injuries. Custom-made arrows, like those we’ve seen before, used by the Green Arrow were found at both crime scenes. We don’t know at this time, if this is the work of the Green Arrow, or someone attempting to implicate him….”

“Someone attempting to implicate him, you dumb-asses!” Bart shouted at the television.

“And we know who that someone is…” Victor murmured.

“Tess is dead?” Chloe could barely speak, unable to take her widened eyes from the screen as an image of Tess appeared behind the newscaster, before cutting to the next top story. “Adriana too?” Chloe gazed up at him worriedly. “Oh, Oliver!”

Oliver had left an arrow embedded in Adriana’s dressing table mirror. And later, when he’d gone to Black Creek to trade himself for Chloe, they’d divested him of his weapons. They had his arrows, his compound bow, his costume, voice distorter, everything he’d brought with him; they’d taken. It would be easy to use them to fabricate a crime scene. His fingerprints would no doubt be on everything, his bow gloves allowing thumb and forefinger to be exposed.

Oliver ran a frustrated hand through his hair, still shocked at what he’d just seen and heard. “Lex can’t expose me. Not publicly. He has no proof, but he can try to ruin the Green Arrow… and me, in the process.”

“But why would they kill Adriana?” Chloe wondered, still in shock, unable to help but feel a bit sorry for the poor woman who’d simply gotten in over her head in her attempt at getting back at Oliver over a failed affair. She’d paid the ultimate price for it; unaware of the true evil she was dealing with.

“Maybe they were afraid of leaving loose ends; afraid she’d talk. I don’t know…” Oliver’s voice trailed off as he moved to sink into the place Bart had vacated. He was weary of a sudden, and rubbed his eyes, resting an elbow on the cushioned arm of the chair, his forehead in his hand.

“We can’t let him get away with this!” Bart’s voice again, shrill and defiant.

“Have you heard from Bruce?” Victor asked calmly, seemingly out of the blue, causing Chloe to glance from him to Oliver in confusion. Why he’d bring up Bruce Wayne at a time like this was a mystery.

Oliver sighed wearily, lifting his head toward Victor, nodding. “It’s going down.”

“What’s going down?” Chloe’s curiosity demanded that she have answers now, especially with the events they’d just seen on the television. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Oliver took a deep breath. He had intended to tell her, but with everything that had happened, and nothing finalized he wanted to wait. “Lex gave Tess control of Luthorcorp in his absence.”

“Yes, I know that, go on.”

Oliver’s palms fell to his knees. “Lex was gone, presumed dead, Tess missing...”

“I know that too. What are you talking about, Oliver?”

“Remember the meeting I had in Gotham?”

Chloe nodded, recalling the hand-written note Adriana left in his pocket about the phony tryst she and Oliver had. “Yeah.”

“It was all about luring board members into a deal with Wayne Enterprises. LexCorp and the subsidiary Wayne Tech have long been rivals. Bruce and I have been buying major shares on the open market. An easy thing to do when both heads of the company are unaccounted for. Bruce got a few of his own people on the board. Luscius Fox helped convince the rest of the members that a merger would be beneficial. When Tess suddenly reappeared, she thought she’d be able to maintain control, and make major decisions, even with Lex around; when in reality, she’d have none. What neither of them suspected was a complete takeover by Wayne Tech. It’s in motion. We’re taking over a subsidiary of Luthorcorp.”

“And now she’s dead.” Chloe pointed out. “Lex saw her as competition.”

“No doubt,” Oliver agreed.

“Yeah, but now Baldy is framing you for her murder,” Bart interjected. “And that other chick too. Who was she?”

“She unknowingly had a small part in Chloe’s abduction,” was all Oliver said, not wanting to go into all the details.

Bart was insistent. “How can we clear the Green Arrow’s name?”

Everyone was silent at that.

Chloe thought for a moment. “Maybe we shouldn’t try,” She spoke softly, taking a seat across from Oliver.

He looked up at her, surprised.

“What do you mean?’ A.C. asked.

“I mean, no matter what we try, it will only bring more unwanted attention to the Green Arrow. Even if Oliver goes off on some saving the citizens of Star City spree, it won’t change the fact that two women are dead, and he’s a possible suspect. Anything he does now will only call more attention to him.”

“What about fingerprints and DNA evidence they might find? If they have my gear, and they’re planting evidence…” Oliver wondered aloud, leaving the rest unsaid.

“Still untraceable to you,” Chloe interrupted. “But if you go out patrolling, there’s a chance they’ll be looking for you, and not only the police, but the average Joe on the street might try having his fifteen minutes of fame by catching the Green Arrow. Besides, you do have a few other enemies aside from Lex, you know.”

Oliver rose from his chair, stuffed his hands into his pockets and began to pace. “We can’t wait until Lex ups the body count. How many will be killed with evidence conveniently implicating the Green Arrow before he stops? Who will be next?”

“You can’t go out, Oliver. You can’t possibly be everywhere at once. And they could catch you.”

“I can’t let more people die either Chloe.”

Chloe stood up and moved toward him, placing a hand on his bicep, soft fingers absently stroking his arm, her expression pleading. “Don’t do anything yet. Let me do some digging. Contact a few of my connections in law enforcement for more information.”

Oliver gazed down at her for long moments, uncertainty and worry in his eyes. This was a new kind of torture Lex had orchestrated. Oliver nodded finally in agreement.

Chloe immediately took up her place at the computer console of the command center. Oliver knew well enough to stay out of her way unless she needed him, and trusted her to do her job. She was good at this. If anyone could get to the bottom of this, and find information that would exonerate the Green Arrow, Chloe could.

A few days later, Chloe entered the Star City Gazette offices for the first time since her abduction, slowing in her steps as she reached Philip’s desk. It was empty. It appeared as though someone had cleared it out. Chloe couldn’t help the prickle that crept up her spine as she stood in front of the desk, staring at it. A copyboy passed by her, and Chloe turned abruptly, stopping him up short. “Tommy, what happened to Philip?”

The young man simply shrugged. “Don’t know, I think he just quit. Came in yesterday and got all his stuff.”

Anxiety crossed her features. Philip had been here only yesterday. Some nerve he had showing up here in the first place. She was silently grateful that she’d taken a few extra days off. She couldn’t face him again. Did he kill Adriana? Tess? Chloe couldn’t be sure, but it was a possibility she couldn’t deny and another shiver coursed through her. Yes, he’d let them go, but Philip was no better than Lex’s dog. One that could seem tame in one moment, and attack you without warning in the next.

Whatever stares and gossip she’d endured the week before over the article about Oliver’s love life had died down, replaced by the latest new shiny story. The public’s attention span could be short, she’d discovered. The newsroom was abuzz with the latest Green Arrow stories. People claimed to have seen him as recently as last night, something Chloe knew was not true; it wasn’t Oliver dressed in green leather. But if someone had his costume they could use it. And a debate began rising among the citizens of Star City over his guilt or innocence. Some were staunch supporters, others condemning him.

Chloe had discovered through her connections at the coroner’s office that Tess Mercer’s body had apparently been moved after death, and that the fatal wound she received was inflicted by a sharp knife, not an arrow. Yet an arrow had been shoved into her body, post mortem. When this information was released it fueled the debate, some claming the arrow placed after death proved that the Green Arrow was indeed being framed. Others claimed he must have stabbed her, then moved her body and shot her as a way of leaving his calling card.

Adriana Spencer however was a different story. She had apparently been bound and gagged, taken to the Oceanside Docks and was killed at the scene; a custom-made arrow piercing her heart.

Chloe’s lips thinned in a grim line as she sat at her desk, brow furrowed, eyes scanning the coroner’s report on her screen. Various fingerprints had been found as well as other DNA evidence, but thus far all untraceable. Still the Green Arrow was considered a person of interest in both deaths. Chloe blew hair out of her eyes and cleared her screen. Maybe she was wrong about not trying to do anything to exonerate the Green Arrow.

She squared her shoulders. “Time to fight fire with fire,” she murmured to herself, opening a new document; the blank page staring back at her. She’d play Lex’s game, and fight back the only way she could. It seemed fitting. She began to type:

“WHY THE WORLD NEEDS HEROES”

Her editorial began by cataloging the major good deeds of the Green Arrow that had been reported and documented in the past year alone. She compared him to every day heroes; police, firefighters, EMTs, teachers, caregivers, any person who worked for the greater good or helped to better their community in any way. She compared him to Batman, and the Red Blue Blur. She rounded out the editorial by stating that we all needed heroes, and people to look up to, people who give us hope, and that the Green Arrow was just one of many. It was unfair to label him a murderer, and the evidence showed obviously, that the crimes committed were the work of some deranged mind seeking to destroy a true hero of Star City.

An hour passed, maybe two. Chloe lost track of time. Satisfied with her work, she printed up the rough draft, and headed toward the floor editor’s office. They gray-haired Mr. Byrne pushed his glasses back up as he talked on the phone, and gestured for her to hand him the paper she held, then waving her away. Leaving his office, knowing it was better not to press him, since he was more agreeable that way; she sat at her desk once more.

She busied herself with other things, stories she’d been working on. She waited.

And waited.

Two hours later the floor editor approached her desk. “What’s the meaning of this Sullivan?”

“I wrote the truth. Facts checked and all,” she defended simply.

“Do you know Adriana Spencer’s funeral is tomorrow?” When she didn’t answer, he crossed his arms over his chest as though considering this fact. A slow smile spread on his face. This would be perfect timing. “I like it. Best work you’ve done yet, Sullivan!” He walked away from her, paper in hand, waving it around, and tossing words over his shoulder, a grin so wide she thought his face would split. “It goes in tomorrow’s editorial column! As is!”

Chloe sank back into her chair, relief flooding her. She picked up her cell phone, excited to share her news with Oliver.

The following day, as promised, her editorial appeared. The paper received hundreds of calls regarding it; most of them positive, and Chloe was quite pleased with herself. Oliver was proud of her too, and appreciated her efforts to gain public support for the Green Arrow. Maybe they could fight this after all. In the mean time, they’d have to try to be one step ahead of Lex, yet he was a master at disappearing at will, and his whereabouts were unknown to the team, making surveillance impossible. Just one false move. He needed to make one move, one mistake and maybe then they’d be able to stop him.

Her desk phone rang the following morning.

“Sullivan speaking, how can I help you?” she answered, her voice cheerful.

“A deranged mind. Interesting choice of words, Chloe.”

Chloe’s blood ran cold.

“Do you really think your insignificant editorial is of any consequence to me? People will have forgotten it by tomorrow.”

She swallowed harshly. “Lex.”

“I’m not finished yet. But by the time I am, the Green Arrow’s name will be synonymous with terror. The murder of two women?” He made a sound of derision in the back of his throat. “This is only the beginning.”

End Chapter 14

Click Here For Chapter 15

Signal Fire Chapter 13

Signal Fire
Chapter 13

Somehow, though he knew she was long gone, she was still there. He felt her deep in his bones. It was inexplicable, but there she was, seeped within him. And he wondered if she would always haunt him, or if this was merely an after effect of the serum they’d given him. He couldn’t believe it. The serum had worked, just as it had on Tess, and several times during his shower, he’d had to examine himself searching for signs of a bullet hole. Each time he checked the spot on his chest, there was nothing. It was as though he’d never been shot. And the swollen features from Oliver’s fists. Gone, as though he’d never been beaten.

Philip, freshly showered and dressed in black fatigues once more sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over, tying up a bootlace as Lex stepped into the infirmary room. He sat up straightening, lifting his head in acknowledgement at the man who probably now owned his soul. The knowledge was not comforting, not like the comfort of Chloe’s presence that still seemed to flow in his veins, but was fading gradually with every new beat of his heart. It was useless to hold onto it and he vaguely wondered how many times Chloe had healed Oliver Queen of injuries, and if that had anything to do with their connection. No, that wasn’t entirely it. She was in Queen’s blood, in his soul, and probably always would be, never to fade.

Philip felt no dread as Lex stepped into the room, eyeing him. It was more like resignation. Facing your lot, and living with it, even if it wasn’t what you wanted. Acceptance of something you had no control over.

“I’m glad to see you’re well,” was all Lex said as he scrutinized Philip with an expression that dared him to defy. Lex knew he had Philip exactly where he wanted him.

“Better than ever.”

“This isn’t over, you know.”

Whether Lex meant for Philip, or for Chloe and Oliver, he wasn’t certain. Either way, it didn’t matter.

“What about Tess?”

Lex’s eyes turned steely blue, narrowing, his shoulders lifting in a near shrug as though she were of no consequence. “You did me a favor. I returned it.”

“You could have saved her instead of me.”

“Let’s just say, you’re more valuable.”

“How so? This entire scheme was orchestrated for her.” Philip rose from the edge of the bed now, his frustration evident. Chloe’s kidnapping was designed in part, to restore Tess to health, and yet, Lex had ultimately allowed her to die. It made no sense, and seemed a waste of resources and time.

Lex turned away from him, to stare through the opened doorway of the infirmary, his gaze not particularly focused on anything. “Tess forgot her place among the ranks,” he spoke with a quiet coldness. “She didn’t know the meaning of discipline. Tess was power hungry. Thought she could control me.” He turned his head in Philip’s direction, speaking over his shoulder. “She’d been making decisions about Luthorcorp in my absence that were contrary to my wishes, behind my back. She wanted it all for herself.” Lex turned fully to face Philip once more. “And now I have to clean up her mess.”

“By getting rid of her.” Philip never liked Tess, but taking her life was not what he’d planned, and that he’d unwittingly done Lex’s bidding by disposing of her, did not sit well with him. Had he once again been Lex’s puppet, controlled by invisible strings?

“It’s a start. Unfortunate, but necessary.”

Somehow Philip didn’t believe Lex thought it unfortunate at all. He swallowed visibly, wondering if Lex knew he was the one to let Chloe and Oliver go. “So now what?”

“We carry on,” Lex stated matter-of-factly. “We know the true identity of the Green Arrow. That’s a victory in and of itself.”

“'He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight,'” Philip retorted. “'If your enemy is in superior strength, evade him,'” he continued, quoting the passage from memory.

The corners of Lex’s mouth curled up slightly at the reference as he took a step closer. “Sun Tzu also said, ‘The good fighters of old first put themselves beyond the possibility of defeat, and then waited for an opportunity of defeating the enemy.’”

“I’ve seen them together; I’ve had a chance to observe them more closely than you have. Their bond is stronger than you think.”

“There will be another opportunity, Philip. I’m not worried.” And he wasn’t. He knew despite whatever misgivings Philip might have over the entire situation, that Philip would follow him. He owned Philip body and soul as surely as he owned Luthorcorp down to the last brick.

Philip knew it too. And as this realization dawned, the reluctant acquiescence that appeared on his face spoke volumes, as he watched Lex turn away, leaving the room, victorious even in this.

* * * * *

They slept the entire night through, too exhausted to do much else once they reached the manor house. Light filtering into their bedroom caused them both to awaken moments apart from one another, and though each knew the other was awake, neither of them spoke, simply holding one another, eyes closed, unwilling to leave their bed. They shifted, Chloe lay her head, cheek pressed against his chest, as strong arms moved to cradle her.

They lay there naked together, each of them lost in their own thoughts as the dreamy, comforting fog of sleep lifted, and they had to face the harsh reality of the events of the past few days. Chloe didn’t think the visions of Oliver’s mutilated body strung up before her, would ever leave her for as long as she lived, and her hand rose once more to caress the smooth skin of his chest, over the hard contours to trail down his sculpted torso, as though to reassure herself for the umpteenth time, that there were no marks or injuries.

Oliver divined her thoughts, taking her hand and pressing it against his ribs, holding it there, his hand large and warm covering hers. She had checked him over a least a dozen times, running her hands over him, making him turn around for her inspection. She’d even healed his bruised knuckles against his wishes. He wouldn’t fight her over it, knowing how tortured she’d been after she bore witness to what was done to him. But he had endured it too, and thoughts of Tess tormenting him with words, the slice of the blade, against his flesh, the plunging of her knife into his gut and then his chest, made him grimace at the thought of it. And Lex. His face swam before Oliver’s closed eyelids, taunting him with threats against Chloe, lashing him with the whip so that his entire body was flooded, engulfed in a shock of pain. Oliver pressed his lips to Chloe’s hair, nuzzling her in an effort to rid himself of the visions.

Tess. He should have killed her while he had the chance. After all she’d done to him and to Chloe, he’d have felt no remorse over it. Chloe moved against him in answer to his kisses, snuggling closer, her leg rubbing up and down over his. She made a sleepy sound of contentment. He could have killed Tess, but would Chloe have forgiven him for it? Maybe she would have, but Oliver couldn’t take that chance. She was always the voice of reason, whenever he’d acted impulsively, yet he knew that she had attacked Tess as well, and maybe she would have understood. She’d reminded him once that it wasn’t up to them, that it was what separated them from people like Lex. If he had killed Tess, he’d have become what she was.

Lex was alive. Where he’d been, and what he’d been doing for the past year was a complete mystery. They’d tried to find him, and even when Chloe had once possessed Brainiac’s intelligence, she could not locate him. Lex knew. He knew the identity of the Green Arrow. What would he do with this knowledge? Now more than ever, he and Chloe would be targets. Oliver didn’t think Lex would go public with the information. It would be too difficult to prove, and unless Lex was prepared for a lawsuit of libel or slander, he’d have to keep his knowledge of the Green Arrow’s true identity to himself. But that made him more dangerous.

Maybe there was a way out of this, a way to buy them some time, and lots of it.

“If your thoughts were any louder…” she murmured playfully against his skin.

“You woke me up with yours,” he teased softly.

There was a long pause before she spoke. “Ollie…I can’t… I can’t get it out of my head. I can’t stop picturing you…”

“Shhh…” he soothed, stroking her hair, pressing more soft kisses to the top of her head.

“Lex and Tess. They aren’t finished with us. You know that,” she whispered. “And the Green Arrow…. They know, and…” her voice began to rise in panic. “What should we do? We have to do something, Ollie…”

Oliver rolled them, effectively quieting her, moving her onto her back. Large hands encircled her wrists, holding them captive against the mattress near her head, he pinned her with his body. His head descended, pressing soft kisses to her cheek, lips trailing softly down over her jaw line and throat, where he stopped to nuzzle at the curve of her neck. He breathed more kisses there. Oliver didn’t want to think. Not right now. He wanted to forget Lex, Tess, Philip, his torture; Chloe’s tear streaked face as she wept over his broken body. She’d suffered, probably more than he had. She not only had to witness his torture, she’d endured his physical pain as well, upon healing him. And then there was Philip, with his hands all over her, creating a jealousy Oliver could no longer pretend he didn’t feel… and now all Oliver wanted was to make her feel good, make her forget for awhile, give her some pleasure in the only way he could at this moment.

They both needed to forget, right now. God, he needed her. It was an admission he could no longer cast away. She did things to him – made him feel things that he’d never felt for another woman, ever. Made him dream of a future he never thought he could have. A family. A home. Some semblance of a normal life. He needed her like he needed the air to breathe, and now his need to show her how much he loved her grew more desperate with every kiss he pressed to her warm skin.

“Ollie…” she whispered, vaguely wondering what had come over him.

“I love you, Chloe,” he breathed against her flesh. “Love you,” he whispered, over and over again, the words leaving him repeatedly between kisses as his mouth traveled, lips grazing her skin with heart-rending tenderness. He’d bare himself completely, without fear because right now, she was the only thing worth clinging to, worth having, ever his anchor, his signal fire.

Chloe was nearly surprised at his gentle assault. The air suddenly grew thick with emotion, and she found herself helplessly swept up in him. He’d told her he loved her before this, but Oliver could be quite stoic, and his actions spoke louder than his words. Something about him in this moment was different. He was humbled, exposed, raw, and open after all they’d endured. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t meant it those other times, but now the power and purity of his words, spoken softly and fervently, not once, not twice, but over and over again, whispered like a litany, tingling against her flesh seemed to hit home with new clarity and realization. The ache in his voice telling her all she needed to know.

“I love you…”

A knot rose in her throat, her heart swelling in her chest at the depth of feeling this man had for her, and she wondered how she could ever have doubted him. She shuddered beneath him; his voice and his lips sending a whirl of sensations as one lone tear escaped the outer corner of her eye. “I love you, Oliver,” she returned his words on a near sob, meaning them every bit as much as he did.

His body grew hard with wanting, pressed against her. “Mine… only mine,” he breathed the words harshly as his ardor increased, a low growl in his throat, and Chloe wondered if he’d been thinking of Philip, and what he’d done, how he had touched her. Oliver released her wrists; fingertips sliding down her arms, sending shivers through her. He moved over her, mouth grazing, breathing a path between her breasts, and over her belly, his hands following, caressing her body, until he reached the juncture of her thighs. Fingers spread folds of soft pink flesh as the first swipe of his tongue sent her senses reeling, her breath catching in her throat in a soft gasp. His tongue swirled around the sensitive nub before suckling it gently. She writhed against his mouth, tongue laving her with increasing intensity. Sweet-musky, feminine, he loved the way she tasted.

He shook her to the core. Her hands balled into fists gripping the sheets beneath her as her body arched. “Yes…,” she managed to hiss breathlessly. There were a thousand questions and concerns to worry over, but in this moment, Chloe didn’t care about any of them. She was with the man she loved, safe for now and his mouth was making incredible magic, making her forget the pain of the past few days. “Yours… only yours.”

A moan escaped her. Oliver felt her convulse with pleasure, listened as she cried out softly from the stroke of his fingers at the place he’d been kissing her.

She reached for him, desperate with need of him, an urgent groan of want passing her lips as he moved across her body. Oliver cupped his hands beneath her bottom, tilted her hips, and let her take hold of him, her small hand guiding him to her. The force of need pulsating through his blood urged him to take her, possess her, sink himself so deep inside her, and find the comfort and ease of his soul that only she had ever given him. A rush of air escaped him as he slipped past the folds of her slick entrance, impaling her. Her hands gripped him the way the tight heat of her body gripped him. His hips began to move in delicious rhythm. Familiar, comfortable, and nothing on earth could be more right than this. The past didn’t matter, there was only now, and whatever the future would bring. Each of them knowing that no matter what tomorrow held for them, they would face it together.

Sensations rolled over her like a tidal wave as he pushed her into rapture, immersing himself deeper and harder with every thrust. Shudders wracked her body, until he knew she was so far gone, the last vestiges of his control shattered, and sweet release flooded them both in prolonged ecstasy.

Oliver dropped soft kisses on her face and throat as each of them struggled for air. But he wouldn’t leave her body. Not yet. He sank down upon her gently, his heart hammering in his chest. It was her turn to cradle him, stroke his heated skin, caress him. After a time, he slipped out of her warmth, and she pulled him to her breast, closer. Oliver’s eyes closed over; languid as her comfort surrounded him like a warm blanket, and for a time at least, they let the world fall away.

There was hope. Maybe. The slightest bit of hope that they could stop Lex or in the very least, cripple Luthorcorp. It was something that had been in the works for weeks. He’d been waiting for the phone call that would confirm it. “I love you, Chloe,” he murmured sleepily against her breast one more time.

“I won’t ever doubt you again, Oliver,” she whispered softly into his hair, knowing now, that after all that had happened, they’d never be the same again, and that no matter what Tess or Lex or Philip or anyone could do to them, no one would ever tear them apart.

End Chapter 13

Click Here For Chapter 14

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.”

“No.”

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

Click Here For Chapter 13

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

Click Here For Chapter 12

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. :)

Signal Fire Chapter 10

Signal Fire
Chapter 10

Tess slipped the bullwhip from the table and Chloe watched it uncoil like an endless snake onto the floor. She waved it around slowly, experimentally near her feet, as she strode about the room. She turned to smirk at Chloe in acknowledgement, then faced Oliver, lifting her arm, unfurling the whip completely.

“I won’t do it,” Chloe called out suddenly, her voice breaking the silence, causing Tess to stop in her tracks. “I won’t heal him again.” It took everything she had not to look at Oliver, strung up and broken some twenty feet away. Chloe did her best to keep the tears from falling, steeling her emotions, and keeping them in check.

Tess turned, lowering the whip. “Of course you will.”

If her statement delayed Oliver’s torture, Chloe would run with it. Tess just might be easier to manipulate than Chloe thought.

Chloe shook her head, feeling a bit more confident now. “I won’t.”

Tess moved closer, turning her back on Oliver, her attention now on Chloe. “You’ll heal him, willingly or not.”

Chloe’s eyes thinned. “You don’t get it, do you? I control my powers. You can’t force me use them.”

“We’ll just see about that, won’t we?” Tess spun around suddenly, unleashing the whip, the crack deafening as it struck Oliver’s midsection, and an instantaneous gash appeared across his torso. He cried out, white starbursts of pain shot through his entire body; stiffening at the painful shock, then convulsing briefly, before becoming slack once more, his head falling forward as he gasped for breath.

Chloe cried out with him, turning away, covering her face with her hands at the sight of his flesh ripped open; her own body trembling. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do what he asked. She couldn’t be strong for him, and watch them torture and maim his body for their enjoyment. There had to be another way out of here, but nothing came to her, utter despair settling around her sinking heart. Chloe refused to watch, and thankfully no one forced her this time. She waited for the sound of the whip once more, but instead, Oliver spoke.

“Three or maybe…. Four is good,” his voice, hoarse and weak sounded from where he hung. His cruelly marred body still swayed lightly from the blow. “Even… an even number. Robert… and Laura would have… would have spoiled them all,” Oliver panted, a near chuckle escaping his throat at the thought, his battered face attempting a lopsided grin. He lifted his head with great effort, searching for Chloe once more. Slowly her hands fell away from her face and she turned around to gaze up at him through tear-blurred vision. “Gabe… Moira… will be proud…. We’ll take them… to visit… we’ll all visit her.”

A strangled sob escaped her throat, yet through her tears a smile formed. Chloe understood him, if no one else in the room did.

Tess looked from one to the other in disbelief as they held each other’s gazes, not comprehending at all. They’d both gone completely mad.

“What seems to be the trouble here?” Lex spoke as he strode into the room, dressed in a dark suit and a deep purple dress shirt, opened at the collar. All heads turned in his direction.

Tess straightened upon seeing him. “She refuses to heal him, and Queen’s gone off the deep end, talking nonsense.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Lex wondered, first glancing at Chloe who stared with rapt attention at the broken man suspended from the ceiling before her, seemingly oblivious to Lex’s presence. He then turned his attention to Oliver, equally entranced in Chloe’s gaze. He moved closer to his captive, trussed up before him and spoke softly. “She heals you, or you both die.”

Oliver didn’t answer, nor acknowledge Lex’s presence. His good eye focused only on Chloe.

“Whatever scheme you’ve worked up will fail. She heals you, because if she doesn’t…” Lex moved intimately closer, reaching up and grasping Oliver’s chin, forcing him to look Lex in the eye. “You’ll die, and I let your friend Cook over there enjoy himself with her before he kills her.” Oliver’s jaw clenched beneath Lex’s fingers, prompting him to continue with more confidence. “That’s right.” Lex spoke menacingly low, so that only Oliver could hear. “Why do you think I allowed him to guard her? He’s wanted to fuck her every way imaginable for quite some time. There’s a lot of sexual frustration built up by now.” Lex smirked as a new thought occurred to him. “Perhaps I’ll let you watch him use her,” Lex nodded in approval of his own suggestion. “And then we’ll kill you. But know this; when you’re gone, I’m keeping her around for her abilities, and Philip Cook gets to fuck her anytime he wants. Don’t think he hasn’t had his hands on her already.”

Oliver’s blood-filled nostrils flared in anger as he attempted to breath with his mouth clamped shut, rage evident in his expression despite his current disfigurement. What to do? He couldn’t protect her if he were dead, and yet he saw no way out, unless Philip would take her away, so that she could contact the team. But the thought of Philip raping her was too much to bear. Lex wouldn’t allow that, would he? He may have begrudgingly respected Chloe at one time, but apparently any esteem he may have held for her was long gone. Lex had him where he wanted him. Chloe would have to heal him now, or risk being assaulted. Oliver couldn’t stop the raw fury that knotted his gut at the thought.

“Oh he hasn’t taken her yet,” Lex purred. “But I can arrange a secret viewing just for you, Oliver.” Lex gripped his chin more forcefully. “She’ll scream for him in a way she’s never screamed for you.” Lex released his chin thrusting Oliver’s head back. He reached into his suit coat pocket, pulling out a handkerchief, a smug look crossing his features as he wiped Oliver’s sticky, drying blood from his hand. She’d heal Oliver now, Lex was sure of it. Oliver wouldn’t allow Chloe to be sexually assaulted.

“Son of a bitch,” Oliver snarled, and with a feral growl, swung forward with as much strength as he could muster, using his body to shove Lex backward, causing him to stumble and nearly lose his footing. Lex only smiled indulgently. He then removed his suit coat, handing it to a nearby guard. “Stand back,” he said to the entire room, and no one in particular, motioning for the guards who had moved forward, to back away. He rolled up his shirtsleeves, then extended his hand to Tess, gesturing for the whip, his gaze never leaving Oliver, who despite his condition and circumstance, looked as though he’d kill Lex at this moment if he could.

No one knew what Lex had said to make Oliver lash out, but evidently Lex was about to have the last word.

“How does it feel to be powerless, Oliver? How does it feel to be taunted? I can’t wait to see your reaction to what’s coming up next for you and Ms. Sullivan.” Lex moved the whip around menacingly, watching it slither around on the floor. “You and Clark took away a chance for me to further my goals when you got rid of Davis Bloom. Protect humanity from alien worlds. Eventually, people will look to me. I’ll be the hero, won’t I?” He looked up at Oliver. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Ultimately? The fight between good and evil?” He raised the whip. “This time… I win.” The whip unfurled.

Chloe lowered her head, turning away and squeezing her eyes shut, waiting for the sound, and even when the loud crack came followed by Oliver’s cry of agony, Chloe’s entire body jolted from the shock of it, and trembled along with his, as though she felt the cruel bite of the whip, ripping her own flesh. She heard the whip a second time and then a third, the pain of each strike coursing through her, until she could no longer stand on her own, sinking to the floor to her knees. She could barely breathe. And then silence.

Lex handed the whip back to Tess. “Take him down. Put them together. She’ll heal him now.”

Chloe lifted her head at the sound of Lex’s voice to find Oliver’s body deeply gashed and bloodied from the whip. He appeared to be unconscious, his body unable to take any more punishment. She couldn’t cry. It seemed she had no more tears left, and instead her expression became vacant, distant. She could make no connection to the man she loved; handsome, confident, and golden, with the near slab of meat that hung suspended, still swaying from his wrists. Aside from the blonde shock of hair and overall physique, he was nearly unrecognizable. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t her Oliver. It couldn’t be. She refused to believe that Lex had won. Hatred and rage roiling inside her for everything Lex had ever done; to herself, to her mother, to Clark and nearly everyone else she knew, and now to Oliver. She refused to cry.

Philip looked at her worriedly. She remained motionless from her position on the floor. Her face had gone slack, expressionless as the hum of the pulley sounded, lowering Oliver. Her eyes followed the movement, but she said nothing, nor did she seem to hear Philip when he said her name.

She watched numbly as they lowered Oliver’s body to the floor, unhinging the manacles from his bloodied wrists, vaguely aware of Philip’s hand grasping her arm once more, lifting her to her feet, and guiding her back to the room. People spoke, but she didn’t hear them. Someone, Philip maybe, urged her down into the large reclining chair in the room as two guards hoisted Oliver’s broken body onto the bed, tossing him there carelessly.

Someone stood before her, a dark figure blocking her view of the man on the bed. “He’s still alive, but he won’t be for long.”

When she didn’t respond, masculine fingers lifted her chin. She gazed into blue eyes that mocked her, taunted her, but still she said nothing.

“You’ll heal him, and then perhaps we’ll find some other entertainment,” Lex’s silken voice drifted to her ears, but what he said seemed meaningless to her. “Something Oliver and I’ve just discussed. Something I’m sure he’d enjoy.” When she made no response, and his voice didn’t seem to register, he crouched before her, gripping her chin with just a bit more force. “Do you understand me, Chloe?”

Three or four he’d said. Chloe had been an only child, as was Oliver, and maybe that was the reason why he’d wanted more than one. Secretly, she did too. She’d always wondered what it would be like to have a sister or a brother growing up. The closest she’d ever had to a brother was Clark. Robert and Laura Queen would have spoiled their grandchildren. Oliver was telling her not to give up hope. Not to give up on the future she envisioned. Gabe and Moira Sullivan would be proud. And once again Chloe’s heart swelled with remembrance of what Oliver had done for her mother long ago; hiding her away and keeping her safe from the monster who now crouched before her, asking her if she understood. Even then, Oliver had been there for her, before she’d ever thought she’d fall in love with him, or that he’d be the father of her unborn children.

“Do you understand me, Chloe?” Lex repeated, this time his ire rising.

She didn’t. She’d never understand Lex Luthor, nor did she want to.

Lex jerked her face up harshly. “Answer me, damn it!”

“Mr. Luthor. It’ll be all right. I’ll talk to her.” Philip’s voice from somewhere in the room. “I’ll get her to heal him, sir.”

Lex relented, releasing her and rising up. “Let me know when they’re both capable again,” he said as he stared down at her. He turned his attention toward Philip. “After she heals him, we’ll separate them. You’re the only one I trust with her, Philip,” Lex placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll look after her while she recuperates.”

Philip nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Lex gave the still unconscious Oliver a final glance before exiting the room, followed by the other two guards. The heavy door closed and the lock clicked.

Philip knelt before her, once again blocking her view of Oliver. She felt him take her hands in his. “Chloe,” he began, his voice deeply male and laced with concern. “You have to heal him.” Philip reached up, threading his fingers through the golden strands of hair at the side of her face. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “After you’re better, I’ll get you out of here, but you have to heal him first.”

Philip had been in combat, and he’d seen hardened men crack under the constant threat of death and devastation around them. She was going inside of herself, turning inward. It was a survival tactic, a human coping mechanism he’d seen before. He needed to reach her before she shut down completely.

“Chloe,” he whispered, fingertips stroking her lips.

She blinked, her green eyes focusing in what he thought was recognition. “Philip,” she murmured.

“It’s all right. I’m going to get you out of here soon.”

Chloe smiled softly, lifting her hand to touch his cheek. Her fingers moved, spearing his short hair, grasping the dark strands, pulling him closer. She captured his lips with hers, leaning back into the large chair, satisfied at hearing his groan of approval as he followed her down.

“Not yet, Chloe,” he panted against her mouth, attempting to pull away, but she wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him on top of her. He allowed it, surrendering to her against his better judgment; her kisses becoming ever more frantic and frenzied.

God she was hot, so incredibly hot, rubbing her body against him, grinding her pelvic bone against his growing erection, moaning softly in his ear. Philip thought he’d lose his mind as heat and raging desire washed over him. It was another reaction to impending death and danger, this sudden urge of hers. He didn’t care. God he wanted her, it didn’t matter that Oliver Queen lay unconscious a mere ten feet away. He’d take her right now, and not regret it. His hands shoved her shirt up, baring her breasts for him to feast upon. He relished the sensation of her warm, small hands that were suddenly everywhere; under his shirt, around his back, grasping his butt through his pants, moving around the front to undo the button, she unzipped them and began shoving them out of her way. It didn’t take long before Philip was rock hard and mindless with need of her, his head spinning.

Suddenly and most unexpectedly, Philip felt an object, hard and cold poking him brutally in the stomach, shoving him away. “Get the fuck off of me,” she growled, the deadly calm menace in her voice, along with the realization of what she’d done, startling him. Philip, panting, his brain still fogged and lust-filled, looked down to find the barrel of his own Desert Eagle shoved against his gut.

Still stunned, Philip didn’t move. Chloe held the heavy gun with both hands, and cocked it, the click letting him know she wasn’t kidding.

“Get off,” she ground out between clenched teeth. “Or I blow a hole through you right now, you son of a bitch.”

Philip raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. He moved off of her and stood upright, his pants opened, erection still throbbing painfully beneath the fabric of his boxers. “Chloe… you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I know perfectly well what I’m doing,” she barked, rising up from the recliner, her shirt falling down, covering her. “Move back toward the wall,” she motioned with the gun. “On your knees, hands behind your head.”

Philip did as she asked, watching her move backward toward Oliver.

“I can still help you, Chloe…”

“On your stomach, now,” she ordered. “Place your hands, spread eagle above your head.” Chloe waited until he complied, lying on his stomach and spreading his arms out above him. She inched her way closer to Oliver. Holding the gun in her right hand, she glanced down at Oliver, reaching for him with her left hand. He must have just awoken. A crooked smile on his badly abused face appeared as the rising heat of embarrassment flooded her cheeks. He winced at the pain, and then saw the glimmer of light, felt her healing warmth entering him. “God, I hope you didn’t see that,” she whispered almost to herself. She continued to touch him gently, just enough to heal him at least partially for now. Chloe, weakened slightly, was unable to stand, the arm holding the gun falling to her side; she sank onto the edge of the bed, sitting heavily.

Oliver took the gun from her hand, keeping it trained on Philip. “I saw enough, Sidekick.” He sat up weakly next to her, dried blood covered his face and torso, but his eyes were clear, and they never left Philip sprawled out helplessly on the floor. Oliver pressed a kiss to her temple, letting her relax against him, holding her close with one arm. More glimmers of healing light passed between them at the contact. “You do know how to work it. I can’t say I blame him. But I’m still going to kick his ass.”

She hated this part. Hated being incapacitated and useless. Chloe smiled up at him weakly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, pressing her cheek against his throat.

“Don’t be sorry, angel,” he answered softly. “Thanks to you, we’ve got a weapon.”

“So much for your plan. I think it’s time you admit who’s the real brains behind this operation,” she quipped faintly.

Oliver smiled. “You know what they say. Behind every great man….”

“Is a woman rolling her eyes?”

Oliver chuckled. “Something like that.” He set her down gently on the bed.

“My brains, your brawn,” she sighed wearily, feeling more debilitated as he seemed to gain more strength.

“Exactly. It’s my turn now,” he whispered, brushing her cheek with gentle fingertips, telling her with his eyes and his touch of his love for her. He’d tell her with the rest of his body and with his words later, when they were away from this horrible place. But for now, he knew she heard his heart loud and clear. Oliver lifted his head, leaving her side and moving toward Philip. He raised the pistol. “Get up.”

“Look, Queen. She came onto me. I didn’t do anything to her.”

“Shut up. On your knees, face the door, away from me.”

Chloe lay on her side watching as Oliver brought the pistol down forcefully against the back of Philip’s head, effectively knocking him out.


End Chapter 10

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