I Don't Mind A Little Trouble, Part 7
Title: I Don't Mind A Little Trouble
Author: FlyingHigh / latetothpartyhp
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama / Adventure
Pairings: Chloe/Oliver, back-ground Lollie
Spoilers: for Luthor
Warnings: For language, since all these characters have potty-mouths when I write them. Also, this is un-beta'd.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, and I am receiving no money for this story.
Summary: Sequel to Of All The Towns in All the Worlds in All the Parallel Universes, You Had to Walk Into Mine. After Lionel's disappearance, alt-universe Oliver is suspected of his murder. Fortunately someone pays a call to help clear his name.
Author's Note: With regards to this ending, I wanted to leave myself a little wiggle room. There is a possible sequel planned. I'm still waiting to see what our Fearless Leaders have in store for Chlollie.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7
She turned a little pink reading his note, but did not reach for the stylus to write anything herself. Instead she gave the door in front of them a glassy stare for a few seconds, then bent her head and nodded a thank-you. The awkwardness of the gesture made her look younger, like a kid burdened with public and unexpected attention. She was focused entirely now on the scene on screen, her head still bent. Avoiding him again, amateurishly this time, and he wondered if it was because she couldn't talk away what she preferred to keep hidden. Not facts in this case, but herself. It was like an instinct with her, he saw. Like an animal hiding weakness to avoid attack, she hid information so she could hide herself with it.
He squelched the urge to lift his hand and push back the short fall of hair on her cheek, pull back her notice to him. Before, when he had chased her into the dressing room, it was because she had planted herself in the food court on purpose, like a grouse-cock diverting a predator from the nest. Now however she was more like the hen, silent and still and alone and she would never draw attention to herself as long as she thought he was watching.
He pulled his pupils out of the corners of his sockets, where they had been studying the curve of her neck and the point of her chin and moved them to the iPad. Through the feed he saw the suave president of LuthorCorp, who only allowed his self-control to lapse when he chose to let it lapse, had become bleary-eyed and gracelessly handsy. Standing, he felt his jacket pulled across his shoulders as Chloe grabbed at it from behind. He glared down at her, hard enough to provoke an actual whisper: “Martha's got it.”
“I don't think Lionel knows that,” he whispered back.
In response, she raised the iPad and flipped it up toward him. Onscreen Martha was now standing and Lionel was attempting to join her. Attempting being the operative word: on his first try he lost his balance before fully vertical and ended up splayed out over the couch. On his second he managed to stand, carefully, and wagged his finger at Martha. Breath held Oliver waited for him to lunge. Instead, by a miracle, Lionel Luthor did exactly as was desired of him and collapsed between the couch and the coffee table, his head bouncing off the cushions and his left wrist off the table corner.
His first thought as he gawked at the screen was that video would go viral if it was ever released to the public. His second was that Chloe had let go of his jacket. Freed, he flung open the bedroom door to find a harassed-looking Martha blinking at him from the other side of the doorway.
“Well, that's done,” she sighed.
“Are you alright?”
Her lips rounded into a small “o” before relaxing into her slow smile. “I'm fine. It was actually quite entertaining. I haven't heard some of those jokes he told in thirty years.”
A small hand alighted on his shoulder and he looked down to see Chloe's big grin, the one he couldn't help himself from returning in the dressing room. “This,” she said, patting him, “is the part where we could really use your help.”
!@#$%^&*()_+!@#$%^&*()_+!@#$%^&*()_+
The light faded and Oliver opened his eyes. They were in a familiar-looking alley beside an overflowing dumpster and an equally overflowing coffee can of cigarette butts. It appeared that garbage collection schedules were one of the many differences between his world and hers.
“So the plan is to throw him away?” he asked. “I'm on board with that.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head against the smile that threatened to pop out. “The plan is to prop him up down there.” She pointed to the corner where the alley met the street. “Then you go back to your office and I call 911 and pretend I saw him while passing by.”
He shrugged, or would have if most of Lionel's weight hadn't been bearing down on his left shoulder. “You sure? A night of the dumpster lifestyle might be a learning moment for him.”
“I'm pretty sure Lionel knows exactly how the other half lives. He just doesn't give a crap.”
“Yeah, no arguments there.” He squatted, making sure the fortunately-but-sadly not-dead weight of the man was secure, and hobbled down the alley. “Is it clear?”
“It should be. There's 'Road Blocked' signs at both corners.”
Wondering who had taken care of that, he swung his burden down. “How's this?”
“Can you maybe pull out his feet? It's supposed to look like I saw him from the sidewalk.”
“So you really did drag me out of the universe and back just so I could schlepp this guy around, didn't you?”
“That's so not true. Like Martha said, we needed someone around who could knock him out in case the roofie didn't.”
Squatting back down, he hoisted Lionel back up on to his shoulder. “Somewhere out there there's gotta be a woman who'll appreciate me for my mind.”
“You could try Dinah,” she suggested.
“Dinah told me I should get tested for learning disorders,” he grunted as he stood. With another grunt, he went into another half-squat and used the momentum from straightening to propel the unconscious billionaire a little further down the alley. He landed with what Oliver thought was a satisfying thump, but behind him Chloe squeaked.
“You want it to look like he got dumped, right?”
“Yeah...”
“You think it matters to your mythical bad guys whether he hit his head on the way down?”
“No, but we need him to stay not dead and wake up in a few hours.”
“You mean I need him to stay not-dead and wake up in a few hours, and since I'm the one who's future depends on this, I'm gonna insist on a little authenticity.” Because seriously, he owed the guy a head-smack or three. As did his mother, and Patricia, and that even that magnificent little prick Lex, who, God help him, had at the least deserved not to be murdered by the monster for whom his father had tossed him aside.
“Just, be careful.”
“Don't worry. I decided earlier today I wasn't going to continue the proud family tradition of having everyone in my gene pool whacked. Mostly because my old man here already took care of that for me.”
She was giving him a funny look, he saw, as if she didn't know whether to be afraid or solicitous. It was gone as soon as she realized he was watching, replaced by determination. “Don't call him that,” she said. “He's not your family, and you're giving him way more importance in your life than he deserves, saying that.”
“Yeah? What would you know about it?” It was a stupid, stupid thing to say, he knew that, but it was off his tongue and in her wince even before he even realized he'd said it. He saw the shudders in her eyes come down and her face go blank in the second it would have taken him to open his mouth if he could have. His throat had welded itself shut, though, and all he could do was kick himself for a goddamn idiot.
“I need to make the call,” she said after a moment. “You shouldn't be around when they arrive.”
He nodded. Jesus. It wasn't as if Lionel hadn't ruined every life he'd ever touched. Even when he was out cold he managed to kill everything good around him.
“Please... “ He jerked his head up just as she paused. “Please be careful. I doubt he'll try to target you legally - “
He laughed. “No, I'm not worried about that. I'll just need to make sure someone else starts Lois' car for the rest of her life.”
She gave him that in-between look again, half scared and half pitying. Her phone was in hand but she didn't move to dial it. “Please don't do anything impulsive,” she said.
He looked up, stared hard at the slanting light fighting to make it through the cloud cover. It was over. He knew that in his gut. He should say he was sorry. He should say thank you. He should walk over to her and -
No. He wouldn't do anything impulsive. She was gone and he should leave too. He stuck his hands in his pockets, tilted his forehead in her general direction and turned on his heel. “No sweat. See you around.” He walked out of the alley. It was getting late, and cold. He headed for the corner. If he was where he thought he was there'd be a cab stand a few blocks over. He could catch one and be at the Ace of Clubs by the time she was gone.
Author: FlyingHigh / latetothpartyhp
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama / Adventure
Pairings: Chloe/Oliver, back-ground Lollie
Spoilers: for Luthor
Warnings: For language, since all these characters have potty-mouths when I write them. Also, this is un-beta'd.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, and I am receiving no money for this story.
Summary: Sequel to Of All The Towns in All the Worlds in All the Parallel Universes, You Had to Walk Into Mine. After Lionel's disappearance, alt-universe Oliver is suspected of his murder. Fortunately someone pays a call to help clear his name.
Author's Note: With regards to this ending, I wanted to leave myself a little wiggle room. There is a possible sequel planned. I'm still waiting to see what our Fearless Leaders have in store for Chlollie.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7
She turned a little pink reading his note, but did not reach for the stylus to write anything herself. Instead she gave the door in front of them a glassy stare for a few seconds, then bent her head and nodded a thank-you. The awkwardness of the gesture made her look younger, like a kid burdened with public and unexpected attention. She was focused entirely now on the scene on screen, her head still bent. Avoiding him again, amateurishly this time, and he wondered if it was because she couldn't talk away what she preferred to keep hidden. Not facts in this case, but herself. It was like an instinct with her, he saw. Like an animal hiding weakness to avoid attack, she hid information so she could hide herself with it.
He squelched the urge to lift his hand and push back the short fall of hair on her cheek, pull back her notice to him. Before, when he had chased her into the dressing room, it was because she had planted herself in the food court on purpose, like a grouse-cock diverting a predator from the nest. Now however she was more like the hen, silent and still and alone and she would never draw attention to herself as long as she thought he was watching.
He pulled his pupils out of the corners of his sockets, where they had been studying the curve of her neck and the point of her chin and moved them to the iPad. Through the feed he saw the suave president of LuthorCorp, who only allowed his self-control to lapse when he chose to let it lapse, had become bleary-eyed and gracelessly handsy. Standing, he felt his jacket pulled across his shoulders as Chloe grabbed at it from behind. He glared down at her, hard enough to provoke an actual whisper: “Martha's got it.”
“I don't think Lionel knows that,” he whispered back.
In response, she raised the iPad and flipped it up toward him. Onscreen Martha was now standing and Lionel was attempting to join her. Attempting being the operative word: on his first try he lost his balance before fully vertical and ended up splayed out over the couch. On his second he managed to stand, carefully, and wagged his finger at Martha. Breath held Oliver waited for him to lunge. Instead, by a miracle, Lionel Luthor did exactly as was desired of him and collapsed between the couch and the coffee table, his head bouncing off the cushions and his left wrist off the table corner.
His first thought as he gawked at the screen was that video would go viral if it was ever released to the public. His second was that Chloe had let go of his jacket. Freed, he flung open the bedroom door to find a harassed-looking Martha blinking at him from the other side of the doorway.
“Well, that's done,” she sighed.
“Are you alright?”
Her lips rounded into a small “o” before relaxing into her slow smile. “I'm fine. It was actually quite entertaining. I haven't heard some of those jokes he told in thirty years.”
A small hand alighted on his shoulder and he looked down to see Chloe's big grin, the one he couldn't help himself from returning in the dressing room. “This,” she said, patting him, “is the part where we could really use your help.”
!@#$%^&*()_+!@#$%^&*()_+!@#$%^&*()_+
The light faded and Oliver opened his eyes. They were in a familiar-looking alley beside an overflowing dumpster and an equally overflowing coffee can of cigarette butts. It appeared that garbage collection schedules were one of the many differences between his world and hers.
“So the plan is to throw him away?” he asked. “I'm on board with that.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head against the smile that threatened to pop out. “The plan is to prop him up down there.” She pointed to the corner where the alley met the street. “Then you go back to your office and I call 911 and pretend I saw him while passing by.”
He shrugged, or would have if most of Lionel's weight hadn't been bearing down on his left shoulder. “You sure? A night of the dumpster lifestyle might be a learning moment for him.”
“I'm pretty sure Lionel knows exactly how the other half lives. He just doesn't give a crap.”
“Yeah, no arguments there.” He squatted, making sure the fortunately-but-sadly not-dead weight of the man was secure, and hobbled down the alley. “Is it clear?”
“It should be. There's 'Road Blocked' signs at both corners.”
Wondering who had taken care of that, he swung his burden down. “How's this?”
“Can you maybe pull out his feet? It's supposed to look like I saw him from the sidewalk.”
“So you really did drag me out of the universe and back just so I could schlepp this guy around, didn't you?”
“That's so not true. Like Martha said, we needed someone around who could knock him out in case the roofie didn't.”
Squatting back down, he hoisted Lionel back up on to his shoulder. “Somewhere out there there's gotta be a woman who'll appreciate me for my mind.”
“You could try Dinah,” she suggested.
“Dinah told me I should get tested for learning disorders,” he grunted as he stood. With another grunt, he went into another half-squat and used the momentum from straightening to propel the unconscious billionaire a little further down the alley. He landed with what Oliver thought was a satisfying thump, but behind him Chloe squeaked.
“You want it to look like he got dumped, right?”
“Yeah...”
“You think it matters to your mythical bad guys whether he hit his head on the way down?”
“No, but we need him to stay not dead and wake up in a few hours.”
“You mean I need him to stay not-dead and wake up in a few hours, and since I'm the one who's future depends on this, I'm gonna insist on a little authenticity.” Because seriously, he owed the guy a head-smack or three. As did his mother, and Patricia, and that even that magnificent little prick Lex, who, God help him, had at the least deserved not to be murdered by the monster for whom his father had tossed him aside.
“Just, be careful.”
“Don't worry. I decided earlier today I wasn't going to continue the proud family tradition of having everyone in my gene pool whacked. Mostly because my old man here already took care of that for me.”
She was giving him a funny look, he saw, as if she didn't know whether to be afraid or solicitous. It was gone as soon as she realized he was watching, replaced by determination. “Don't call him that,” she said. “He's not your family, and you're giving him way more importance in your life than he deserves, saying that.”
“Yeah? What would you know about it?” It was a stupid, stupid thing to say, he knew that, but it was off his tongue and in her wince even before he even realized he'd said it. He saw the shudders in her eyes come down and her face go blank in the second it would have taken him to open his mouth if he could have. His throat had welded itself shut, though, and all he could do was kick himself for a goddamn idiot.
“I need to make the call,” she said after a moment. “You shouldn't be around when they arrive.”
He nodded. Jesus. It wasn't as if Lionel hadn't ruined every life he'd ever touched. Even when he was out cold he managed to kill everything good around him.
“Please... “ He jerked his head up just as she paused. “Please be careful. I doubt he'll try to target you legally - “
He laughed. “No, I'm not worried about that. I'll just need to make sure someone else starts Lois' car for the rest of her life.”
She gave him that in-between look again, half scared and half pitying. Her phone was in hand but she didn't move to dial it. “Please don't do anything impulsive,” she said.
He looked up, stared hard at the slanting light fighting to make it through the cloud cover. It was over. He knew that in his gut. He should say he was sorry. He should say thank you. He should walk over to her and -
No. He wouldn't do anything impulsive. She was gone and he should leave too. He stuck his hands in his pockets, tilted his forehead in her general direction and turned on his heel. “No sweat. See you around.” He walked out of the alley. It was getting late, and cold. He headed for the corner. If he was where he thought he was there'd be a cab stand a few blocks over. He could catch one and be at the Ace of Clubs by the time she was gone.