Chlollie Fanfic: Misdirection, Chapter 7

[babydee1]

Hi, everyone!

Okay, so here's the deal.

I was at the point in the story where  could have said: sod it, I'll give Chlollie their happy ending, and we can all go home with big smiles on our faces, or: throw in some angst and drag out the drama just a little bit more.  Or a lot more.

For the first time, I can understand why TPTB love to stall, stall and stall some more: it gives them more time to weave a story.  As long as its done right, it can be a brilliant masterpiece, and that is what I'm aiming for.

So I decided to throw in an angsty roadblock in the name of one Clark Kent.  Please don't hate me.  The good news is that not only do I still get to expand Siren, I also now have to add another book to the series, so there'll be six stories instead of five.  How's that for compensation?

So, without further ado, here's chapter 7 of Misdirection.  Enjoy!

Lovely banner by kc_2009 .  You rock, Sweetie!

Title:              Misdirection

Author:          BabyDee
Pairing:          Chlollie

Rating:           R (this chapter PG)

Warnings:     None for this chapter

Timeline:      Season 7 (Siren) with references to Season 6’s Justice

Disclaimer:   All characters belong to the CW & DC comics. 

Summary:     Sparks begin to fly between our high-achieving couple.  Sequel to Trajectory.

Feedback:      Ooh, yah. J

 

 

Read previous chapter here.

Read story from the beginning here.

 

 

 

Chapter 7

 

 

Chloe clicked idly from one mugshot to the next, listlessly scanning the images for one that might resemble the blonde from the rooftop.  She tried her best to focus on the photographs, but the only blond on her mind was a six foot two inch archer with eyes like melted chocolate and a chin dimple to die for.

 

Ah, the dimple.  The things she wanted to do to that enticing little dot…

 

“Looking for a new hairdo?”

 

Chloe jumped and turned, fixing a smile on her face as Clark appeared beside her and dropped a brown paper bag on the desk.  She took a tentative sniff of the bag and sighed.  He’d done it again.

 

“Let me guess,” she asked dryly.  “Ham and Swiss?”

 

He nodded.  “Your favourite.”

 

“No actually, not at all,” she said, bemused.  “Which I believe I’ve mentioned three times this week.”

 

Clark’s face fell.  “I just can’t stay in that house,” he blurted out, “knowing that that phantom was living my life for a whole month.  And Lana didn’t have a clue.  I mean, I know we looked alike, but…”

 

Blah, blah, blah she thought disinterestedly as she stood up and headed to the copy room.  Had Clark and Lana still not resolved this? 

 

He followed her through the bullpen, droning on and on about Lana and Bizarro.  She managed to filter out his vocal content while she thought about when best to head to the Clocktower apartment.  Would Oliver have anything planned for her?  Would he expect them to pick up where they left off?  And what did she really, truly want out of all this?

 

“…and what if Lana doesn’t feel that way about me anymore?” she heard Clark finish plaintively. 

 

Chloe blinked and dragged her mind back on topic. 

 

Wait, what was the topic again?

 

“Well…Lana’s changed a lot since high school,” she said lightly, hoping her words had some relevance to his ramblings.

 

Clark made a pouty face and thrust his hands in his pockets.  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” he mumbled.

 

Thank God.  “Right.  I’m sorry I brought it up,” she said, rolling her eyes and picking up her Xerox copies. 

 

“Have you had any luck finding Brainiac?” he asked, following her out of the copy room.

 

Sheesh, does my life revolve around you this much? “Not since you asked yesterday, no,” she said with a chirpy smile.

 

Suddenly Clark stopped and stood in front of her.  “What happened to your face?” he asked, staring aghast at the scrape on her cheek.

 

Unbelievable.  “Okay, did you seriously not notice this until now?” she asked incredulously.  Goodness, how much more self-absorbed could Clark possibly be?

 

“What happened?” he asked, folding his arms and looking ready to do some damage.

 

She turned away and sorted out the papers on her desk.  “Well, don’t freak out…but I’ve been doing a little sidekicking for Oliver.”

 

“What?!” he said loud enough for several people to turn in their direction. 

 

She lifted her hands to shush him and lowered her voice.  “Hey a girl has to pay her bills, and…let’s face it, Clark, you pretty much fill my pro bono quota.”

 

Clark frowned and cast a quick glance at her clearly expensive handbag, then looked back at her with a frown.  “I know there must be some fringe benefits to this gig, but Oliver’s missions are dangerous,” he said darkly.

 

She shrugged.  “It was just a little internet interception, only this time it led to some ninja lady almost beheading me.  But Oliver had it under control,” she hurriedly added with a grin as Clark’s face darkened like thunder.  “He showed up and saved me, and this girl splintered his arrows with some sonic soundwaves or something.” 

 

“Sonic soundwaves?” he echoed.

 

She nodded.  “Sounded like a whale with a bad toothache.  Anyhew, she snagged my disk, and then ran to the edge of the roof and rappelled over the side of the building, which, I have to admit, was pretty smoking cool.” 

 

Clark looked horrified, but she grinned widely.  “I think I have a girlcrush.”

 

He wasn’t amused.  He turned away and glared at no-one in particular.  A vein was throbbing in his jaw with such force she was worried it might burst, and was surprised to see that Clark cared this much about her getting hurt.  Ironic, considering he’d barely glanced at her when he’d walked in.

 

He grimaced as he turned back to face her.  “Who was she?” he growled.

 

She grinned and pointed to the blonde felon on her computer.  “Which brings us back to the present,” she said with flourish. “I’m still trying to track her down.” 

 

“Well, what’s Oliver doing to find her?” he insisted.

 

“He’s on the case, Clark.  Don’t worry about it.” 

 

“Like hell I won’t.”  He turned around and stalked off, heading for the exit. 

 

“Don’t forget your sandwiches!” she called cheerily.

 

Clark’s reply to her parting shot was pretty much unprintable.

 

*** 

 

The elevator grate opened with a crash, and Oliver swore he saw some cement crumble from the hinges.

 

“You put Chloe in danger!” Clark shouted as he advanced, his teeth bared like a hungry wolf. 

 

“I see we’re skipping past the whole ‘Hi Oliver, good to see ya!’ phase and going straight for the good stuff,” Oliver observed dryly. 

 

His apparent lack of concern angered Clark even more.  “If you and your team want to put your own lives on the line day after day, that’s fine,” he growled.  “But not Chloe!”

 

Oliver blinked at the force in Clark’s words.  Was it possible…?

 

“Chloe is member of my team, and a valued one at that,” Oliver replied evenly.  “Her smarts certainly come in handy.”

 

“Sure, Chloe’s smart,” Clark hissed, “but ‘smart’ doesn’t do squat when you’re being chased on a rooftop!”  

 

Oliver shrugged.  “Well, I don’t think leather-fetish mystery woman was trying to kill Chloe,” he replied lamely.

 

“She should never have been in danger in the first place!” he bellowed, his face mottling with rage.  “The only reason she got hurt is because she was with you!”

 

Oliver’s patience rapidly dissipated.  “Oh, sure.  Like she isn’t in danger every other week when she’s with you!” he shot back, enraged. 

 

“I can protect her!” Clark replied harshly.  “Clearly you can’t, but you’re just too selfish and proud to admit it!”

 

Oliver gaped.  “Whoa, whoa whoa…I’m selfish?” he echoed.  “With all the special gifts you have, I don’t see you getting off your ass to try and make a difference in this city!  Nah, you just sit around in domestic bliss while a world of trouble spins outside your door!” 

 

Clark clenched his fists and ground his jaw as they stared each other down, breathing hard.  After a while he sighed, dug his hand in his pockets and trudged out onto the balcony, probably to calm himself down some. 

 

“So what have you found out about this blonde would-be assassin with sound waves?” he eventually asked, his voice much quieter than it had been moments earlier.  “Chloe said she shattered your arrows.” 

 

Oliver grimaced.  “Not my finest moment,” he admitted grimly.  “She wanted the files that we uploaded.” 

 

“What exactly was it that you had Chloe steal for you?” Clark asked pointedly.  “Maybe that’ll give us a lead.”

 

Oliver shot him a filthy look before replying.  “Just some images we’ve intercepted from Lex’s latest project.”

 

Clark turned to face him, his expression wary.  “Lex?”

 

Oliver smiled wryly.  “Looks like Lex Luthor may have a blonde sidekick of his own, Clark.”  He walked over to Chloe’s Watchtower computer and pulled out a sketch of a woman. 

 

“Victor came up with this based on Chloe’s description of her assailant,” he said, handing it to Clark.  “Everyone on the team’s working hard trying to get a positive ID on her.” 

 

“I’ll see what I can do to track her down,” Clark replied as he headed towards the exit.  As he reached the elevator, he paused with his hand on the grate and turned to face him with stern eyes. 

 

“You should have called me, Ollie,” he said softly.  “I’d never have let her get hurt.”

 

Oliver clenched his jaw but refrained from replying.  He watched as Clark stepped into the elevator and began his descent to the ground floor.  As soon as the other man was out of sight, he turned and sank into the nearest chair, breathing heavily. 

 

Clark was in love with Chloe.  It was as plain as the nose on his face. 

 

The fool just didn’t realise it yet.

 

***

 

Chapter 8…