For Richer or Poorer - NC17 - Chloe/Oliver - Part Six
Title: For Richer or Poorer
Category: Smallville
Genre: Romance/Drama/Humor/Action
Ship: Chloe/Oliver
Rating: NC17
Spoiler(s): Season 6 - Arrow
Word Count: 5,271
Summary: (AU) Oliver Queen, former journalist and current computer specialist, has met his match in Chloe Sullivan, billionaire CEO and secret leather-wearing vigilante.
Previous: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five,
dhfreak
VI.
Oliver woke the next morning with a grin on his face. It was way too early, he was out of coffee, and he had six messages from people angry that he hadn't finished the work he promised, but he was on cloud nine. And then his cousin came barging into his room looking like the cat that ate the canary. "Nice bed-head, Cuz. I need a favor."
He snorted, rolling out of his bed and raising a brow at her. "Good morning to you too, Lo."
"Yeah, yeah, look - I need your fancy-schmancy computers." She was practically vibrating with excitement. "I was over at the Kent farm and Mrs. K gave me the scoop… Since the Inquisitor's search engine consists of a highlighter and the yellow pages, I thought my darling geek cousin could give me a little help."
He rolled his eyes. "Hey, does Mrs. K know you're moonlighting on her?"
"Are you kidding me?" she scoffed. "I've got this double-identity thing down." At his unconvinced expression, she added, "And besides, I told her all about it this morning."
He laughed lightly. "Good… I suppose you're talking about the recent theft last night? With Martha the unfortunate victim?"
Hands on her hips, Lois nodded. "Yeah, and lemme tell you… when I get my hands on this leather-wearing Amazon woman, she is going to be sorry… Nobody messes with my future mother-in-law."
Oliver choked on a snort. "Does Clark know you're already planning your wedding?"
She waved a dismissive hand. "As if he sits still long enough to scare him with monogamy."
"I don't know if I should be worried for my best friend or congratulating him," he muttered, before walking across to sit at his computers. "So what exactly are you planning for the Green Arrow anyway?"
"Besides a good ass-kicking?" She shrugged. "I just want to do some digging around… See where last she struck and try to put some pieces together…"
Oliver stared at her speculatively. He loved his cousin, he really did, but leaving his top-of-the-line computers in her hands and letting her loose on the Green Arrow mystery was like playing with fire. He didn't want the woman who couldn't even manage spell check to touch his babies and he also didn't want to see if she might be able to figure this out. While it'd taken him only a day to put together the Chloe is Green Arrow puzzle, Lois didn't have all the pieces and he really didn't want her to. It was clear she already disliked the vigilante because of what happened with Mrs. K and though he couldn't blame her, he at least knew the motive behind it.
"What's with the indecision?" Lois scoffed. "Look, I won't bring anything liquid near the computer and I won't get any crumbs in between the buttons…" At his glare, she added, "Again."
He sighed. "Just… be careful." He rose from his seat. "And I'll be here to monitor everything you do."
Stomping over to his seat, she muttered, "Like I need a babysitter."
An hour later, he was sighing. While Lois' spelling abilities hadn't approved, she was still a capable reporter. "The Green Arrow Bandit?" He shook his head. "Doesn't really roll of the tongue."
"Green Arrow, green eggs and ham - it doesn't really matter what I call this girl. I'm gonna have her face plastered all over the front page soon enough."
He blinked at her. "Aside from the fact that you know she stole Martha's necklace, you have nothing else to work with…" His eyes widened as he reminded, "None of the other robberies here in Metropolis have any eye witnesses to link the Green Arrow to them."
"So I might've bent the truth a little," she muttered.
"I know I'm a little rusty in the reporter gig, but I'm starting to think it's a good thing the Inquisitor doesn't pride itself on integrity." Frowning, he knelt next to her, staring up in concern. "But I really don't like the idea of you dangling yourself out as bait in your paper. I mean, anyone after the Green Arrow's gonna come after you if you do this…"
"Anyone after the Green Arrow is a friend of mine," she argued, "And I will be sitting front and center with them when they lock this chick up."
He frowned, worrying now. "What happened to innocent until proven guilty? We don't even know why she's stealing these things. And I did a little fact-checking myself, Lo. That necklace was stolen… Long before Green Arrow came along." He stared at her searchingly. "I know you're looking at this like it's your big break, but I need you to reconsider… Putting this out there means putting your neck on the line and are you really sure you want to do that?"
She stared back at him, frowning. "Why do I get the feeling you know more about this than you should?"
"I was there," he reminded, eyes darting away. "Look, she could've seriously hurt people for that necklace, but she didn't. There was some theatrics and then a clean break away… And I'm not so sure Mrs. K or even Lionel Luthor was the victim. That necklace belongs in a museum and I'm sure it'll show up in one any day now…"
She shook her head, staring at him seriously before she reached out to poke him in the chest, demanding, "Oliver Queen, you need to tell me what it is you know."
Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm just saying I think you're judging this Green Arrow too quickly…"
"Well I'm not… And this scoop is going to get me a front-page headline." Hitting the send button on her email, she stood up from his chair. "Besides, if you think she's such a good person, she'll redeem herself in no time… But for now, I have a story to get out there and you're not giving me any hard evidence to write it differently." Turning away from him, she bee-lined it for the door. "You know, maybe you should stop by the Kent farm, Ollie… and see what your so called vigilante hero has done for your best friend and his mom." With that, she left, slamming the door behind her.
Sighing, Oliver sank down into an arm chair and shook his head. Things just got a hell of a lot more complicated and he wasn't sure what to do anymore.
...
"You look happy," Victor commented, brow raised as he stared at her via her big screen.
"I am happy," she agreed, unable to help her grin.
"Is this because you're pulling off another heist tonight or…?" His eyes narrowed knowingly. "Did Prince Charming make another appearance?"
Her smile lengthened. "Not long after you left, actually."
His brows raised. "Ballsy."
She laughed. "That's not all he is… Apparently, he figured out about my nightlife." Her eyes widened significantly. "And he knows you're in on it somehow. We didn't really get into details." Her nose scrunched up. "But we have tentative plans for twenty questions later."
"He knows." He stared at her. "And you're okay with that?"
"I'm…" She took a deep breath, eyes darting away. "I'm relieved." She shrugged. "I know I have you, AC, and Bart, but sometimes it feels like you're all I have in the world and I guess…" She shook her head thoughtfully. "I guess I didn't know how much I wanted something more until it was staring me point-blank in the face."
He nodded, sitting back in his chair. "I'm guessing he took it well."
"Yeah, he… He seems to support what I'm doing. Or…" Her brows furrowed. "What he knows of it, anyway." She shook her head. "Like I said, we still have some things to figure out and then I can fill you in."
"Okay." He pursed his lips. "You trust this guy, right?" He stared at her seriously, brows furrowed. "You don't expect to see a write-up listing your recent burglaries anytime soon with a very definitive finger pointed in your direction?"
"I…" She looked up at him, stubborn trust filling her face. "I honestly think we can trust him… That's not just my feelings for him talking, either. My gut is telling me that we can trust him."
Victor smirked slowly. "All right, Gibbs."
She laughed. "I really need to check my TiVo." She frowned, joking, "If I knew all this life saving was going to get in the way of my NCIS, I might've rethought things…"
He snorted, rolling his eyes. "You get the print-out yet?" he wondered.
"Yes!" She reached back and pulled the picture from her printer, holding it up to look at. Simon Westcott, a man she'd been hobnobbing with just last night, was the last on the list of Metropolis' wealthy to be hit by her and her merry men. The stolen necklace he had in his possession was Egyptian in origin. Large blue and tiny gold beads made up the band, with a heavy-looking pendant adorned in a blue scarab beetle in the center and green, red, black and yellow detailing all around it. "How long has he had it?" she wondered, frowning.
"Too long," he answered, his fingers working quickly over an unseen keyboard. "I've got the blueprints for Westcott Tower for you to look over. He has a room filled with artifacts, most of which aren't anything too exciting… The only one worth pursuing is the necklace otherwise I'd suggest the whole team case the joint."
She turned her eyes up in though. "I know the place. It's on Fifth Avenue, isn't it?"
He nodded. "The best time to go is tonight. They won't be expecting you since the heists have all been spread out over the last few weeks…" He looked up at her, brow raised. "But if that's too soon-"
"No." She shook her head. "No, I can do it tonight…" She leaned back. "I'll go over the blueprints myself, but where do you think the best point of entry is?"
"Roof," he answered confidently. "Anywhere else is mission suicide. He's got guards walking halls and even standing right outside the front door." He smirked. "Like you'll walk up and ring the doorbell."
"Certainly an element of shock value," she admitted, lips curled.
"Without a doubt…" he mused. "But if we want to actually accomplish anything, I say go in high, land on the roof, get around the security lock on the access door and make your way down to the safe room…" He shook his head. "It sounds complicated, but you've got fewer guards to work through and you don't have to worry about the window alarms. The roof access door runs on another security system than the rest, so you don't have to worry about setting off anything else…" He quirked a brow. "What d'you think?"
"I think…" She smiled up at him. "That later tonight, we'll have ourselves a necklace worthy of Cleopatra herself." She flicked the paper with her finger and smiled. "Nice work, Cyborg."
He smirked. "Save the praise for when you get yourself out of there in one piece."
"Piece of cake," she promised, a thrum of excitement already running through her. There were definitely perks to her alter-ego and stealing from Simon Westcott was one of them.
…
Feeling guilty, Oliver called Mrs. Kent to check in on how she was holding up, pacing his apartment as they spoke.
"To be honest, I'm glad it's you," she sighed into the phone. "I can't even count how many reporters have been hounding me all morning for an exclusive… never-mind Lois."
He chuckled shortly. "Hey, Mrs. K, what happened last night… I mean, I know it was probably kind of scary for you…" He rubbed the back of his neck; it had all happened so fast and he'd been more interested in seeing Chloe in her Green Arrow get-up than reacting to the crime presently happening.
"It was… a shock," she admitted. "It was over so quick though, Oliver, I hardly had time to really fear for my life… She seemed to have her sights on one thing only and hurting me or anybody else didn't seem part of the plan. I've tried to tell Lionel this, but he's just so upset about the interruption itself and how we had to end the party early…"
He frowned, kneading his brow with his knuckles. "He can have another benefit though, right? I mean, you're not completely shot out of the water with this… One little burglary…" he worried.
She laughed lightly. "Of course. I'm sure with a little smooth-talking I'll be able to get just the support I was looking for. Lionel's already coming up with another way to introduce me and hopefully find some more backers… We're not out of this yet, Oliver."
"Good." He sighed in relief. "Can I-Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"If you knew somebody was doing something that seemed wrong… but you knew it was for a good reason, like extenuating circumstances that made it less wrong… What-What do you do with that information?"
She was quiet a long moment. "I think there are lines, Oliver. Lines that each and every person has… What might seem right or wrong to one person is just the tip of the iceberg for another… I think you have to follow your instincts in those moments and if they're screaming at you that no matter that that person says is okay or right, if you know deep inside that it's wrong, then you do what you have to…" She sighed. "Clark went through this a lot, I think. Should he or shouldn't he use his powers? Was it fair, was it right? Like in football for instance. He didn't want to hurt others, but he wanted to be accepted and appreciated for his talents. But he knew that he was cheating in a way and so he couldn't keep doing it..."
He quirked a brow, remembering how his best friend seemed untouchable on the field, too fast and too strong for any regular player to take on. "Not to mention people were probably going to start getting suspicious..."
"That too," she agreed, sounding a little more light-hearted. "What's this about then?"
He frowned. Telling her he knew who Green Arrow was or who took the necklace felt like it was betraying Chloe. Not telling her was like lying to his only mother-figure. "I've just got a lot on my mind…" He blew out a long breath. "A lot of complications I wasn't anticipating."
"You know what's not complicated?"
"What?"
"Having coffee with a pretty and smart CEO," she told him.
He grinned widely. "Subtle, Mrs. K."
"Sweetheart, until I see you two make it official, I'm only going to get less and less subtle."
He chuckled. "Noted."
"Oh! Looks like the reporters have given up calling and congregated on the farm… I better go. But Oliver?"
"Yeah?"
"I trust you, you know? To make the right decision when you have to… You'll know when it happens."
He nodded to himself. "Thanks Mrs. K."
"Sure. See you later."
"Bye." Hanging up, he took a seat back down at his computer and buried his face in hands to let out a long, suffering sigh. He really hoped she was right.
Deciding to take his mind off of it, he spent the morning trying to catch up on his backlogged work. But hacking into so-called secure computers wasn't half as enjoyable as it used to be. It didn't matter that he now knew a very wealthy businessman in Metropolis had a pregnant mistress or that one of his employers liked gay porn a little too much, his mind kept wandering back to the situation at hand. He liked Chloe, a lot, and he was almost certain that what she was doing was right. But it didn't stop him from having some doubts about the way she went about it. While Robin Hood was good in theory, knowing that a woman who had treated him like her own son felt indebted to Lionel Luthor because of Chloe's actions made him sick to his stomach.
His phone beeped, drawing his attention, and when he looked down to find a text from said vigilante, he opened it with some hesitancy.
I'm at that coffee shop we reconnected in… Almond mocha, right?
He couldn't help his smile. With extra whip, he texted back.
Right! I almost forgot… A second text from her arrived a minute later. I'm busy tonight, but we should get together tomorrow… I think you still have some questions and I feel like I should do some more explaining… 7 all right?
He breathed a sigh of relief, nodding to himself. 7's great... He considered what else to add before finally typing out, How's the second business going?
He wasn't sure she'd respond and he knew this wasn't the place to discuss it, but he was a little worried and he couldn't quite get her nightly habits off his mind.
I have a new business deal in the works. We'll see how things go…
He frowned. He was almost sure that meant she was going to hit another member of Metropolis' own Fortune 500 club and the worst part was that it didn't nag at his conscience any, not like Martha's robbery had. Instead, he worried for Chloe's safety. The leather suit might do her justice, but it didn't look like it could fend of much attack. Stay safe, he wrote to her.
Always do.
Frowning, he ran a hand down his face and turned back to his computers. When did his life become more than ones and zeroes?
He stared a long moment at his cell wallpaper, at the image of Chloe Sullivan, her lips tilted in a smile as she stared up at him, and he thought computers had very little on the woman who'd gathered all his attention. He only hoped he was doing the right thing.
…
The city shrouded in night, Chloe stood atop a ledge, her bow slung over her shoulder. Through her high-tech sunglasses, she peered down at Westcott Tower, starting at the bottom where an American flag flapped in the wind atop the archway where a SafeTex employee stood guard. She raised her chin, eyeing the balcony behind the flag where an older, portly man stood angrily shouting into his phone, waving a cigar around him. Simon Westcott, she recognized, reaching back into her quiver for an arrow. With all his wealth and the pretty, young, if insipid, wife of his, he should be fast asleep and living the life. Instead, he was wasting his time over one little piece of jewelry; something that neither belonged to him nor anybody else. Sliding her arrow in place, she drew back on the string, her sights set on Westcott darkly before she raised her arm fluidly until she was level with the ball at the end of another, if larger, American flag, high atop the building. Taking a deep breath, she held steady before finally releasing both the air in her lungs and the arrow in her notch.
It cut through the air with beauty; the silver tip slicing through the night sky toward its intended target with nary a thing to stop it. The zip-line drew taught as it planted deep in the flagpole, giving her a vertical decline to slide down as the end of the line was already hooked in the wall behind her. Lowering her bow, she felt as it remodeled itself to hook around the zip-line and carry her down. Taking an easy jump off the ledge she let the slope and her weight propel her forward until she was close enough to let go and barrel role across the building roof, returning to her feet. She scanned the surface for hidden SafeTex guards but nobody came out and she smirked; easier every time. Turning, she jogged silently across the roof, stopping at the access door to disable the alarm.
It was a matter of minutes before she was standing in Westcott's secure gallery. Clay statues seemed the overall décor choice and not one she appreciated. But there in the center of the room was what she was looking for; the necklace. And it was surrounded by bright green motion sensors. She eyed the head and shoulder piece that wore her target and quirked her head. Victor had already told her all about the system Westcott had in place and now that it was in front of her, she was even more confident that she could beat it. Notching a specialty made arrow, she raised her bow to the sensor on the roof and drew back, listening to the protest of the string. When she was sure the angle was right, she released and watched as the crystal tip sent the lasers away from her, spiraling out and leaving a direct opening before her.
Pressing a button on her bow, she felt it twist and turn until it was compact enough to fit in a hip holster. Satisfied, she jogged toward the statue head, coming to a stop just in front of it. "Hey beautiful," she murmured, before reaching out and plucking it from its place. "You are far too pretty to be locked up in this musty old place." Folding it in a leather case, she slid it carefully into her pocket and grinned, patting it. Turning around, happy her job was finished, she came to a startled stop as a shadow appeared at the end of the darkened room. All she could see was a red jacket and stocky frame, so she wasn't about to lay odds that this was just any SafeTex guard.
"Who are you?" the man demanded, walking toward her slowly.
"According to the Inquisitor, I'm your average weather-toting Bandit." She cheekily curtsied. "Nice to make your acquaintance, but I'm not taking autograph requests tonight, maybe later."
As he stepped into the light, he frowned. "Well… I hope you enjoyed your cult-status while it lasted."
Her head quirked; he looked really familiar… "Look, Tall, Dark and Broody, I'm sure Westcott appreciates your gumption, but why not just step out of the way and we'll just pretend this never happened, okay?"
He stuffed his hands on his hips and shook his head. "I can't let you take that necklace."
She scoffed, amused. "Letting implies you have a choice here, and buddy… you don't!" She walked toward him, hips swaying to and fro, drawing his eyes and a startled expression from him. She chuckled under her breath. "Move aside, Hero… I'll even wipe the security feed so your boss doesn't know this ever happened…" She moved to circle him, frowning when he stepped in her way, his hands up as if to stop her. She sighed. "I may be small, but I pack a punch, Big Guy."
Though uncertain, he glared at her. "If forced to, I will fight you."
She smiled. "Look at that, Hero's got morals… Unfortunately, that's really not going to help you." She wound her fist back but when he moved to block it, she kicked her leg out, effectively tripping him. He'd put so much focus on blocking her punch, that he left his legs wide open and as he toppled, she stepped over him. But just as quickly, he recovered and reached out to wrap a large hand around her booted foot. Sighing with exasperation, she moved to kick him, but he tripped her and sent her flying to the ground. Throwing her hand behind her shoulders, she pushed and threw her legs up and over her head until she was standing once more, her shoulders hunched and her hands lifted for hand-to-hand combat.
He too stood and eyed her curiously. "Just give me the necklace back…" His jaw ticked. "I'll take you to the authorities myself."
She snorted. "Don't tell me that's all you got…" She quirked her head. "It was just starting to get interesting." She rushed him, leaping when she was just a few feet away, and willing to just knock him back and out before fleeing. But when she was nearly atop him he moved, so quickly she could've misjudged him for Bart. Unable to stop her fall, she fell into an awkward roll, knocking over the head statue in the process. Immediately, alarms were set off and she hurried to her feet, staring back at him with narrowed eyes.
"That was fun," she muttered. "Looks like you've got a secret of your own there, Mr. Quick." She brushed her knees off and shook her head. "Hate to break it to you, but you're on the wrong side."
Unamused, he shook his head. "I'm not sure the police would agree."
She sighed. "Unfortunately, we'll never be able to test that theory." Before he could argue, she drew out her handheld crossbow and aimed, pursing her lips. "It's been interesting." She fired, but as quick as the arrow split through air, quicker was the hand that caught it, not even wincing as the electric tip sent out a charge. Instead, the man held it up and peered at it with furrowed brows.
Chloe stared, slack-jawed. Looked like boy-scout had a few more tricks up his sleeve. He looked back at her, brows furrowed, but before either of them could say anymore, a door was thrown open and a SafeTex guard stepped through, gun lifted. Chloe fired a second stunning arrow directly at boy-scout's chest, but he sped out of the way and it continued past before planting in the arm of the guard. She'd take what luck she could get. As the red and blue man of morals went running over to check on the SafeTex lackey, she made her breakaway, necklace in tow.
Adrenaline pumping, she made her way back to Sullivan Tower, thankfully avoiding the SafeTex guards that all swarmed toward the alarms. Chest pumping and lungs burning with each gulp of air, she stood in the center of her apartment, throwing back her hood and frowning. Crossing the room at a jog, she made her way to her computers and started searching. She knew that face from somewhere. She-It hit her like a brick wall, nearly sending her tripping backwards as her eyes widened with realization. Clark Kent. Senator Kent's son. Oliver's best friend. Blowing out a breath of exasperation, she linked up with Victor in Star City, hoping he was close to the computer base and would pick up. She shouldn't have been surprised since he always waited up for her when she went out to pull a job.
"You look… off," he said in greeting, eyes narrowing. "What happened?"
She rolled her eyes. "Let's just say the Senator's son doesn't like robbery but seems to have a fondness for trespassing."
Victor's brows lifted. "You ran into Clark?"
"Yes," she breathed, shaking her head. "And he was pretty adamant that I turn myself in and give up my life of crime." She rolled her eyes.
"Are you okay?" he worried.
She clenched her teeth and looked away. "I'm fine… A little bruising to my ego, but other than that…" She shook her head, returning narrowed eyes to peer back at him. "Something tells me you knew Clark Kent wasn't your average human."
Frowning, his eyes fell. "It wasn't my secret to tell."
She half-smiled, her ire slipping away quickly. "I know. And I don't expect you to tell me about every hero or meta or what-have-you that you run into… But a little head's up might've been nice." She laughed shortly. "He moves like Bart…" Eyes wide, she added, "And he caught my arrow…" Amused, she shook her head. "If I didn't find his wayward need to help a little annoying, I might actually like this guy."
"Isn't he Oliver's friend?" he asked, brows raised significantly.
"Yes…" She frowned. "And I'm getting the feeling I might just become Yoko-Ono if he and I don't square some things…" Sighing, her shoulders slumped. "Why does this have to be so hard?"
"You mean why does this guy you like have to be friends with a guy whose mother you stole a necklace from and who has an honor code that makes him look like Beaver Cleaver?"
"Yes!" she cried, chuckling.
He shrugged, half-smiling. "Because life is complicated, Chlo… And everything you do has repercussions."
"Why couldn't they be good ones?" she wondered, pouting.
He shook his head. "You got the necklace, didn't you?"
Digging in her pocket, she pullet out the brown leather fabric and unrolled it, letting the necklace fall into her palm before she held it up for him to see. "I was surprised," she admitted. "But I always get the job done."
"Good." He nodded. "You know… That's the last one, Chloe…" He cocked a brow. "Meaning your work in Metropolis is over."
She looked away, her good mood fading. "I have a few more loose ties, business-wise."
"Nothing you couldn't handle through a conference call," he reminded.
She looked back at him. "I miss you guys and I miss Star City…"
"But?"
"But I'm finally following my heart here, Vic…" She threw her hands up helplessly. "And I'm taking your advice and giving Oliver a try."
His lips twitched, knowingly. "Even if it's messy and complicated and might not turn out the way you want it to on the first try?"
She smiled. "Even if."
He nodded. "Okay… Good." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. "Clark's not a bad guy, Chloe… He's just very set in his ways and you have to admit that from his angle, what you're doing probably looks pretty bad."
She snorted. "Yeah, I know… I read Miss. Lane's engaging piece in the Inquisitor too. Although…" She quirked a brow. "I like Oliver's version better. Somehow adding 'Bandit' to the end just doesn't fit right."
He laughed shortly. "All right, Green Arrow, it's late… I'll let the guys know mission accomplished…" He grinned at her. "Get some sleep… You've got a rousing game of Twenty Questions ahead of you and soon… Maybe if you can explain a few things to your new boyfriend, his best friend will stop trying to stop you."
"Maybe." She shrugged. "Night Vic."
"Night Arrow." He winked before turning off the camera.
Sitting back on her desk, Chloe blew out a sigh before looking down at the necklace in her hand. "So how do you feel about the Louvre?" she asked it, hopping down to climb the stairs to her secret gear room. "It's either that or the Tate, it's not the right continent but at least it's closer than North America, leaving the Met out of the question…"
Stripping her gear off and placing the necklace somewhere safe for the night, she walked from her gear room, the green-lit doors closing behind her, through to her kitchen in nothing but her bikini-cut black panties and her cotton camisole. Her shoulders were already aching from where she hit the head-statue stand and a hot shower was on the menu, but not until she'd had a little cold Chinese to stave off hunger. Ah, the life of a billionaire vigilante… If Clark Kent and all his morals could see her now. Scratch that... If she wanted anybody seeing her in this little clothing it was his best friend. Grinning, she couldn't wait to share her latest exploit with Oliver. And the fact that she could only made her happier.
[Next: Part VII.]