It'll Give Us Something To Talk About The Next Time We Meet, Part 6
Title: It'll Give Us Something To Talk About The Next Time We Meet
Author: Flying High / latetothpartyhp
Pairing: Chloe/Oliver, Clark/Tess, ex-Lois/Oliver
Rating: Teen / PG-13
Warnings: Coarse language, violence, brief nudity
Spoilers: For Luthor and Hex
Summary: Oliver has problems. Lois wants out, Tess wants Clark and Clark wants his powers back. If only Oliver could have what he wants... Set in the Luthor-verse about a month after the Finale.
Sequel to Of All The Towns In All The Worlds In All The Parallel Universes, You Had To Walk Into Mine and I Don't Mind A Little Trouble.
Author's Note (and some additional warnings): Many, many thanks to
iluvaqt for beta'ing this and giving me the confidence to keep writing it. This is a JLA-centered story with a Chlollie twist that ya'll should see coming from a mile away (which I write to persuade anyone put off by the lack of Chloe in the first few chapters). Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!
Bonus points for spotting all the SV character walk-ons and mentions in this chapter.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7a / Part 7b
Seven-thirty. It had been a long day and would be an even longer night, but for once Dinah felt as if she'd accomplished something. In one corner, the preliminary numbers from the conference had come in and giving was up over last year, proof, she hoped, that she'd been a draw for the right demo. In the other, work on the Watchtower was almost complete; all they had to do now was post their “Members Only” signs and they were done. In her view this should have been the part of the process they'd done first, but Oliver and Victor had thought a state-of-the-art security system for their digital art studio, or whatever it was they had told the contractors they were working on, would have raised too many suspicions - as if a room lined entirely in lead wouldn't do that all by itself. Andrea in this case had deferred to Oliver as the voice of experience, and Bart's only concern had been when the sound-system would be installed. So, she'd lost that round, but she knew she'd win others.
And she had, she thought. Maybe not by the rules, but why should she be the only one who had to follow them?
Seven thirty-two. Oliver arrived, looking like the long-lost gay Blues Brother in his white sunglasses and suit. She took a couple of deep breaths and mostly succeeded in not laughing at him. The shiner he sported under the glasses was another matter.
“What happened to you?”
“Suicide Slums,” he grunted.
“You went out last night.”
“I did. Sue me. You said you had some pictures to take?”
Dinah didn't sigh. She wanted to, but the situation had gone beyond that. It was getting to the intervention stage, which meant she'd probably need to go out to lunch with Lois or do something equally awkward to plan it. On the other hand, none of them had the time to help pull him out of the gutter until this Clark situation resolved itself. She gave in and sighed.
“And recordings to make,” she told him. She tapped the retina scanner. “Pictures first. Align your eye here and hold still.”
For once doing as he was told, Oliver bent forward a little and stared into the round little box Victor'd dropped by earlier. “I've never seen one that looked like this,” he said.
“Hold still,” she repeated, re-starting the scan. “Victor built it. Off-the-shelf doesn't adapt as well to non-human anatomical variations.”
“And this does?” he asked when the scan had completed.
“I guess. We haven't had a chance to test it yet.”
“Huh.” Dinah noticed he eyed the device with a little more respect. Maybe “huh” really was high praise coming from him. “Hey, where did you find this?” he asked.
Of course, it might be all he was capable of articulating before fluttering to the next topic. She glanced at the arrowhead he was holding.
“That? Stuart found it. He left a note.” She pointed to a Post-it half-hidden under Victor's hardware, from where Oliver rescued it.
“'Tripped on this. Exclamation point. Please clean up after yourselves. Your mother doesn't work here.' Hah. Funny.” He crumpled the note and pocketed the point. “Now what?”
“Now, read this,” she said, handing him the script, “into this.” She indicated the microphone next to the scanner.
“These are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot - wait, The Crisis? Are you kidding? Every Tea Partier in the country will be able to break in here.”
Why, she wondered, did he have to make every little thing about politics? “Not if they can't say it in your dulcet tones, they won't. Start over.”
Oliver rolled his eyes but he read it. He'd have a decent radio voice if he worked on his enunciation, she thought. As it was he sounded a little mush-mouthed. Could be the childhood in California, she thought; after decades in Metropolis he still sounded like some kind of pot-head surfer to her.
“Well, that's done,” he said. “I'd better - ”
Wait - he was leaving. She sucked in a breath.
“Dinah?”
“Bart stopped by while Victor was here,” she said quickly.
“Oh?”
“He confirmed the lab location,” she continued. Just stick to the facts and you'll be fine, Dinah. “All the equipment Victor thought would be there was, and it looks as if he was siphoning power off one of the lines coming off the dam. However, there is an occupant. Bart said she'd be date-able if she showered and shaved.”
“Is she some kind of prisoner?”
Dinah shrugged. “Prisoner of her own addiction maybe. Bart said the place was surrounded by camo-covered pot plants. He thinks she's growing it.”
“Why would Clark put an Evil Lab of Evil in the middle of a marijuana plantation?”
“Cover,” she said. “Literally and figuratively. The lab's in what used to be a root cellar and the plants provide a story for the energy theft and equipment deliveries, if anyone should take an interest.”
Oliver looked thoughtful. “That might give us a way out. Make a call to the coppers and let them do the dirty work.”
“Yeah, that's what Victor thought, but I think it might take more embarrassment than an anonymous tip might provide,” she said glumly. “I talked to my dad. Conventional wisdom says law enforcement in that part of the state has been looking the other way for awhile when it comes to propagation.”
“So we go up the chain of command and contact the feds. They've fielded operations without notifying local law enforcement in the past.”
“Andrea mentioned that.”
“What, did you guys have some big conference call about this?”
Yes. We're getting to that part, Oliver. “Timing's still a factor with the feds. The DEA doesn't like to look bad - they're going to want to check things out, build a case before they go in guns blazing. That could take a couple of days. Our thought was to tip them but alert the media too; that way we keep attention on the area and any comings and goings. That should be enough to keep him away and in the meantime the sheriff's office will need to be seen as doing something. You think Lois would be up for some free-lancing? The Journal'd love to have a scoop on the Planet, and once they run the story I can follow up on the show.”
“That … would be a change of pace for you.”
“Anything can be spun,” she shrugged. “In this case, I'd say the recession has led to underfunding of basic services in the area. The sheriff's department was overwhelmed and clearly the legislature needs to re-think their priorities and allocate some additional dollars to the counties for law enforcement.”
He gave her a small round of applause. “That's impressive. Cynical, but impressive.”
“It'll keep it topical,” she said airily. “Besides, I can always riff on how, if there weren't so many environmentalists freaking out about the idea of building a modern coal-gasification plant to replace that ancient dam, the people in that community would have better employment options and wouldn't need to grow pot to feed their families.”
“Yeah, that's what'll sell it, I'm sure. How do you plan to spin the lab?”
“Ms. Needs-to-Shower-and-Shave was looking to expand into meth.”
“DEA's going to know the difference between Clark's set-up and a meth lab.”
“Yeah, and they'll report it to DDS and DDS will or won't decide to announce they've foiled a terrorist plot to blow up Nowheresville, Kansas. If the media speculates beyond what the government is willing to admit to, there will be some explaining to be done, and not by the government.”
“So you don't plan to expose Clark.”
“I don't see how we can. Victor says he owns the land, but you have to trace the ownership back through so many trusts and holding companies it'll be hard to pin operational knowledge of the growing on him, and it's not as if the tenant'll make a credible witness. Not to mention that without the data all we, or the government, for that matter, have is a bunch of equipment and some building code violations.”
“Why wouldn't we have the data?”
Dinah braced herself. “Because we decided Victor should wipe it. Completely. He wouldn't make a copy. We conferenced Andrea in and we voted, three to two.”
“If I'm counting correctly, you only had four people present at this shining example of democracy.”
“We assumed you would want to keep it.” She wrapped her hand around her ergonomic mouse, squeezing tightly.
“Oh gee thanks. I guess. Why the hell was I not invited to participate?”
“Victor hacked into Gina's schedule, it said you were meeting with some Chinese trade official.”
“And you couldn't have waited two hours?!?” He was starting to look angry. She squeezed the mouse tighter. They had made the right decision, she told herself. They had.
“Time is of the essence. It's a two-hour drive out to this place, plus he has to create some kind of diversion to get our resident Nancy Botwhin out of the picture. Plus,” she added quickly as he opened his mouth again to interrupt, “I can't do this unless we respect the laws we're able to. I spent my entire childhood - my entire life - watching my father break rules in order to bring the bad guys in. He was comfortable with that and I am too. Of course I am, I'm a freaking vigilante. What he wasn't comfortable with, what gave him the ulcer and the heart-attacks wasn't the bad guys, it was the guys who were supposed to be good and were really only in it for themselves. The politics and the graft and the corruption; that's why he had to retire. I can't be one of those guys. We cannot be those guys. We can't profit from this.”
He didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at her hard, his jaw tight, his eyes unblinking. “What about Victor?” he asked at last. “Don't you think he's earned the right to that research? I'm assuming that his was the other vote to keep the data.”
“His was,” she nodded.
“Do you blame him?”
“No. But even he admitted that he'd rather the data was destroyed than that it might be stolen from us someday. No system is invulnerable.”
Oliver stepped back a few paces, shoved his hands in his pockets and stared up the rosettes. She stared at him until that became awkward, then played with some of the icons on her screen for a minute or two. That, however, grew old quickly. It wasn't as if this was a difficult decision. Either you were ok with re-selling stolen property or you weren't. And yes, this was the Green Arrow: selling stolen property was what he did. They, the team, were more than that though. They were … an example. She'd never thought of it that was before, but that was what they needed to be. Uncorruptible. Unwavering. But proportionate, as well. It was why they didn't just go out and shoot all the muggers and purse-snatchers of the city. They weren't Ultraman. They were something better than that.
“So, does that I mean I can't torrent any more episodes of Game of Thrones using the team's OC3 line?”
Lost in her thought, Dinah jumped.
“'Cuz I gotta say, I really hate the way cable is sold in this country, and HBO is so stuck in the nineties when it comes to distributing their product,” he continued.
Was he serious? He couldn't be serious. Could he?
“Hey, don't look at me that way,” he said. “Lena Headey is smokin' as a blonde.”
Dinah absorbed that piece of information. He was making a joke. Well, as much of a joke as a man who could afford pay people to laugh at his jokes probably knew how to make. “When do you even have time to watch t.v.?” she asked.
“I don't. I'm planning a marathon for a rainy weekend.”
“How … I … “ She trailed off, shaking her head. “Trust you to fall for the villain.”
“Cersei's not the villain. She's just a woman trying to survive in a man's world.”
“No she's not. She's a power-hungry bitch. And she's sleeping with her brother.”
“Hey, watch the spoilers!” he said, as from his jacket pocket Sister Sledge began proclaiming: We are family! I got all my - “Tess?”
Tess? Tess Luthor? Tess Luthor was calling him here? In the Watchtower? No. No, she wasn't. Not anymore. She waved like a crazy person to stop, hang the hell up, destroy that phone, but he ignored her. “What happened?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes mid-wave. Apparently “huh” wasn't his only catch-phrase. She froze at his next question though: “Did he hurt you?” He stood a little straighter as he asked it. Evidently just hearing of a damsel-in-distress was enough to switch him into hero mode. One of these days, she thought, she was going to meet another woman who hadn't played that card. There had to be -
“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” Oliver interrupted. “So your problem is what, exactly? … Yeah, I guess I'd be worried too. … Well, Lois'll be there. Wait, hold on - “ he covered the phone with his hand. “Do you think Tess could spend the night with you?” he whispered to Dinah.
“No!”
“Clark's after her,” he hissed.
“We're not supposed to know each other!” she hissed back.
“Shit.” As if he'd forgotten. He uncovered his phone. “I'm back. … I'm at the office right now. I can meet you in fifteen.... No, I'll talk to Lois. … Sure. Bye.”
“Why would Clark be after Tess?” she asked. “She's a Luthor.”
He shook his head though, already dialing.
“Lo - yeah. I'll be home in fifteen. There's a catch though. Tess is gonna show up at the apartment in a few minutes,” he said quickly. “For one,” he added after a long pause, “she's in trouble … Yes, I believe her. For two,” he droned on, “she's got some information I need and I can't exactly debrief her at the tower, and for three, she's my sister, it's my apartment, and you broke up with me, so - “
He broke off and pocketed the phone, eyes hard.
“You and Lois broke up?” she asked after a few seconds of working her mouth dumbly.
“Yes, and if you don't mind, I don't need any crap about that right now.”
“I wasn't going to give you any crap,” she said quietly. She wasn't. She wasn't going to say anything, because she had no idea what to say. “I'm sorry?”
“Thanks.” He pulled out his phone again and scrolled over the screen. “We're not making an announcement until she's got her own place and I can get some security installed.”
“Oh. That makes sense.” It did, in an ass-backwards, Oliver Queen sort of way.
“I don't want Lionel thinking she's a viable target just because we're not engaged any more,” he added, still poking at the phone.
“Totally,” she replied.
“So Victor's on his way to the pot farm?”
“Yeah.”
“And you're on patrol with Bart tonight?”
“I … yeah - “
“Get Bart over to the LuthorCorp Tower or their building a few times. Make it obvious Bart's watching for Clark. Hopefully that'll keep him in the city tonight.”
“Okay, but is - ”
“We'll touch base in the morning when Victor gets back,” he said, and with that he walked out the door.
She stared after him, snapping her mouth shut when she realized it was hanging open. She couldn't believe it. He'd done it again. Turned the conversation into some kind of assignment meeting. It had to be a Luthor thing. It had to. Not that she'd know from experience, but she'd lay money they all did it. Ever single last bushy-maned one of 'em.