Action Time (Chapter Eighteen)

And here I am, finishing with Hostage. Two chapters this week. I'm on a roll! Love when that happens.

Chapter 18

She just sat, staring at a blank laptop screen. There were things to do, mostly cosmetic, with all the dangerously exposed wires. She'd been up since dawn, after a very fitful sleep, rousted by the very idea of the very many things there were to do. So why wasn't she doing them? Maybe because she just didn't want to just now. She'd built Watchtower once. Why did she have to do it again? She could build this place up again and... what? Maybe they'd defeat Zod. Then... what? Repeat the last year? Maybe with new big bads and a slightly less abrasive Clark, but how happy would she be? A few bright spots aside, how happy had she been here?

Maybe that was part of her penance, doing things she didn't want to. Over and over. Maybe it would never be done. She'd been back and forth on this all month. She wasn't happy here. Outside of a few bright spots, she hadn't been happy for more than a year, not since that dark, scary, dream... or nightmarish night in the hospital. Wasn't that enough? Maybe not. She needed to pay. And maybe for the rest of her life. And that was what this felt like, more and more. Trapped in a tower, unable to be part of the world outside. All work and no glory. For all the attention that mysterious Blur or The Green Arrow got, there was never front-page headline about the woman who lost countless nights of sleep, working beside them every step of the way, sometimes long after they'd metaphorically hung up their capes. And maybe she wasn't in it for the glory, but shouldn't there be something about her work that made her smile, really smile? 

Obviously, there was Oliver for that. He almost made her feel... like a human being again. But that was the problem. The more she unplugged, the more she let Oliver take her out of this tower, the more she saw that night as something she didn't do, would never do. She couldn't reconcile the person she was for all these years, the person she was slowly finding again, with someone who coldly took a life. If Brainiac had never come into her, if he hadn't been taking more and more control, she would have never...never...

No. She couldn't go back to that. She could go around in circles forever about how Sebastian Kane died. The bottom line was that he had and that she was the only one with him. The only possible reason why. Brainiac aside, she needed to pay. Even if everything in her was screaming no, the bottom line is it happened and she would never stop feeling the pain of it. 

But did she have to feel it here? 

She looked around at the exposed wires, then turned her eyes back to the blank screen, hugging herself. Now she knew why air traffic controllers had such high salaries and the heaviest anti-depressants. It wasn't just the pressure of lives in their hands, the stress, the long nights. It was lonely, always being the voice in someone's ear.

"Chloe?"

She glanced up, tried to look alert as Clark moved in. 

"Any sign of Tess Mercer? Her reign as the Red Queen is about to end."

"While you were being kryptonited by our mystery majesty," she said, standing and handing him the file she'd started. "Tess Mercer was being treated for cracked ribs at Met Gen."

He read it, moving around her desk. "Then we still have to find the Red Queen. When will Watchtower be up and running?"

She shoved her hands in her pockets, felt her fingers bump against her one-touch remote. It was reprogrammed now, but damned if her fingers didn't recoil from it. These little gadgets and gizmos had sucked her in before. "Well, I can't exactly call the geek squad, Clark. And I haven't really had much time to..."

Clark turned to her. "Well, I've seen you overhaul Watchtower in one night, Chloe. What's the holdup?"

And why the hell not? Why couldn't she just say it? She was tired of giving everyone the answers they seemed to need. Maybe she could try for the damned truth this time. After all she said last night to Oliver, she could at least try it with Clark. "Watchtower's ready to go. I'm not," she said steadily. "Clark, I found that footage of Jor-El and the Book of Rao months ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry. You know, I got tangled in my own little world-wide web, and I just lost track of what was important." That and he'd been so uneven all year, but that was another matter. "Clark, when you disappeared from my life, I retracted into Watchtower." She moved to the shielded window. "And as I became Big Brother... I guess more like Big Sister... It's easy to think that having all the information is the same as having all the answers." She felt tears and nearly rolled her eyes at them. Hadn't she cried enough? "But I can't be the eye in the sky anymore, Clark," she went on. "And now that I have Ollie, I... I want to plug in to the real world," she choked out. "Virtual reality bites."

"Chloe, what you've created here," she heard behind her, "it's bigger than both of us. It'll go on to serve future generations."

She turned. "I'm not the hero here." So why did she have to be? Why couldn't it end? Sure, it would never truly end. But for her...

"You may not be saving people from train wrecks, Chloe, or shootouts." He gripped her shoulders. "But you are just as much of a hero as the rest of us." It felt strange, being touched by him. It was something she'd been used to once - Clark's hands, Clark's hugs, Clark's presence. All this year, he'd recoiled from her as if she were made of kryptonite, only touching her in anger or exasperation. "We're on the brink of war, Chloe," he said, his voice softening, "and the world needs you." She was ready to give all this a clear "no, thanks." For years, words like this would have her doing any damned thing he wanted, being whatever he needed. Then he said it. "I need you."

And she wanted to kick herself or, better yet, him. Because he knew. She didn't have to say a word for the both of them to know he had her. Even now, even the way things stood, even if their relationship would never be the same again, she was a damned sucker for being needed by Clark Kent. 

She sighed and pulled the remote out of her pocket. The first thing she saw was the sun, then she heard the metallic buzzing and soft digital snicks around her. She turned to the room as her screens lost the Red Queen's stamp and came to life, she stepped into her creation, remembered that first moment when Emil had surprised her with all this. Yet she didn't feel the wonder of that moment. Maybe because she knew what this place held now. 

But she'd step back into that, too. Just for a little while more, just so she could know that she'd paid enough. She felt Clark's presence, still behind her and thought about what he did to her, of all he did this year. She knew now that those things, not just the loneliness of this life, were a large part of her wanting to quit. And maybe a gentle touch and soft words telling her he needed her didn't wipe all that away, but it did give her some perspective. 

Maybe they'd never be the same, but they could go on. She'd done things, too, things she had no intention of telling him, Sebastian Kane being the biggest one. And why? Because she'd lose him for good. And she didn't want that. Maybe that was why he never did and never would tell her.

She turned to him, thinking she'd tell him one truth she could. "Clark, I, I just want you to know that even when I hurt you, I was trying to protect you."

"Protect me," Clark repeated. 

Then he was gone.

She leaned against her desk. He'd had that look about him, that wide-eyed look that said he had something. Normally, she'd be miffed he ran off without sharing the whys, whats, or whos. Right now, she was just spent. She'd just signed up for another stint of God-knows-how-long in air traffic, after all. She let herself feel it, all the fear of this next year, all the exhaustion of this one and, damn it, started crying again.

She jumped at a banging sound, wondering if something on the upper levels had fallen, when it happened again... and again... and again. It was coming from outside. She frantically wondered where the hell she'd put the gun and if it was loaded. But if Zod and company were bashing at the walls, then it wouldn't do much goo...

"Chloe?"

She rushed to the doors, still open from Clark's hasty exit and looked to the left. She could see Oliver through the wired glass of the stairwell door. "Oliver..." She rushed to the door and he kind of poured himself out of it and into her. "What the hell are you doing, taking the stairs."

"Couldn't get in," he gasped. "Elevator won't... go up. Wouldn't even scan me. Then it claimed it was out of order..."

"Did you put in the new sequence?"

"Must've forgot about that one."

She led him in as he leaned heavily on her. "Well, we can't have civilians stumbling onto the security scan." She pulled him in. "Why didn't you call me?"

"I did." He held up his phone, still panting. "Right to voicemail."

"I'm sorry." She dropped him on the couch and moved to get him a bottle of water. "Must have forgot to charge it with all the..."

"It's fine," he said, gulping in breaths. "You're only doing a billion other things."

She returned to him, uncapping the bottle and sitting next to him, ignoring his last as she had spent the better part of the last two hours doing nothing but staring in brooding misery around her. "Here."

"Thanks." He gulped down half the bottle, then gasped in more breaths. "Anyway, I thought I'd get in a workout and take the stairs."

"That's a hell of work-out. I mean, I gave Bart and Clark immediate scan access to the stairs, but mostly because they're the only one who can take them."

"I'd say to add me to the list, but I'm never looking at them again." He finished the bottle and leaned back. "Good to know you got the system back up. Anyway, it's good I got some exercise in. Gonna be stuck in the air on and off for the next few days, so..."

"In the air? I thought..."

"I need to get back to Queen Industries base."

"Oliver, meetings can wait, considering the world, including Queen Industries might..."

"This isn't company business. I think I might be able to get us a little insurance."

"What kind of..."

"Nope. Not saying. I don't want to jinx it." He stood and shucked off his jacket, fanning himself. "In keeping with the desperate times. I'm not flying commercial. Going to dust off every jet in my fleet. Victor's flying one from Star City and I'll take that one back while he helps you get this place cleaned up a little more, then I'll be sending one back to take him to Japan. Meanwhile, I'll get the rest of the troops rallied to distribute the weapons in new places. We'll have to go worldwide with the Kandorians flying now, get everyone stationed across the globe."

She stood, too. "I get it. I've got plenty to do here, so... Yeah." This was no time to even wish he would stay. They both had jobs to do. And separately.

"Before I go, I thought I might help you clean up one little thing around here." He grinned and moved to the kitchenette, opening a cabinet, then pulling out one of the many vitamin supplements he was always trying to get her to take. He opened it and shook out several pills... and a tiny camera.

She gasped. "So that's where you put it!"

"Had to go for the last place you'd look." He stared at it. "Might as well destroy it now. We don't want the Kandorians getting hold of this if everything goes south." He sighed. "Of course, we'll never know if I'm guilty now. Just going to have to let that hang in the air forever... Yeah. Shame."

"Fine," she groaned. She grabbed the cam and moved to her laptop. "We'll look at the evidence, but then I'm grabbing a hammer." She unearthed one of the many usb wires all over her desk and plugged in as he moved behind her, chuckling.

"Finally. Redemption."

"You mean proof of guilt. She pulled up the video and fast forwarded all the moving around and... other things, stopping when they were both stilled on the pullout bed. "Okay, any minute now, you are going to start pushing at me."

"Or not. Fast forward a little. Nobody's moving... including me, it seems. Hmmm."

She sped the video up, stopping at movement. "See? There you are. You're moving."

"Pffft. I'm very lightly rolling over. And away from you. But you... you're sitting up."

She was. She zoomed in, seeing that small Chloe on the screen throw off the covers and sit up. "What the hell am I doing?"

He leaned in. "It looks like you're... typing on nothing." 

It did, that other Chloe also seemed to be touching at the air around her. She recognized the motion, as if there was some invisible touch screen in front of her.

"I think you're... sleep-watchtowering."

"But that's insane."

"Well, you've been under a lot of pressure lately. Maybe your subconscious is trying to help out, get some imaginary work done, so it feels less guilty about sleeping." He pointed at the screen. "And there she goes."

Chloe watched herself collapse at the foot of the bed. arm hanging off it.

"I just want to point out that tiny Oliver has not moved. Yes, he may have all the blankets, but only because you tossed them on him,"

'Tiny Oliver? You really want those words out there?"

"Don't change the subject." He turned her to him. "What's the verdict?"

She sighed. "Not guilty."

"Yes! Redeemed! Free at last! I think I'll kiss a pretty girl. Come here." She tried not to smile as he laid one on her.

She pulled back. "Okay. Can we destroy this now?"

"Fine, fine. Get a hammer." He gestured to the screen. "And not a moment too soon. Looks like our small doppelgangers are waking up. And kissing. Who wants to see that?"

"We all know you do."

"Come on." He took the chair and pulled her to his lap. "Aren't you just a little curious?"

"No," she scoffed. But her hand didn't move to the laptop. Because she was. Damned curious, Most of the reason she'd been searching out the cam was to plug in and see this very thing. But she wasn't about to tell him that.

"Admit it." He leaned in, still holding her. "This might be kind of hot."

"Maybe a very little," she breathed as tiny Chloe moved over Oliver, kissing her way over his collarbones.

Oliver's hand moved from her waist to her hip, digging in lightly as that other Oliver rolled her over and the covers slid off them.

Then things got strange. I mean, there was something sexy about seeing a moment, remembering the feel of it, but her face... her thighs... the way everything bounced.

Oliver's hand stilled as they started to move. "Is that what my face looks like when we get going? I look creepy."

She turned to him. "You look good. It's me that's..."

"No, you look hot."

"But I'm... jiggling."

"I like that part."

She recoiled and moved off his lap as the both of them started grunting. "Okay. We're destroying it."

"Agreed,:" he said, standing stiffly. "Ugh." He shuddered. "That's the hardest part about sex tapes. Seeing yourself."

She was already getting a hammer. She yanked it out and gave it three good whacks for safety. "There!" She moved to him, lightly poking his chest with the hammer. "And you are never taping us again!"

"Hey, I didn't do it for that. I was only..."

"Oh!" She pulled the hammer back. "I'm so sorry. I forgot about your..."

"No. Don't worry about it. I'm not hurt."

She dropped the hammer with a clunk and pulled at his T-shirt. "I didn't even ask with all the jet talk and the tape..." She lifted it up to his chin and stared. "It's healed."

"Yeah. We're going to have to send that kid a muffin basket or... an ipad."

She ran her hands over where the burns had been. "It's just gone. Like it never was."

"Good as new," he said, sounding slightly choked. "I mean, plastic surgery can't even do that."

"I just can't believe it." She stroked over the smooth skin. "I mean, I've seen stuff like this before, done stuff, but nothing like..."

"Chloe, you keep that up and I'm going to have to get a good look at your chest."

She chuckled and gripped his shirt in both hands, pulling him down to her level. "How long till Victor gets here?"

"Hours," he said thickly.

She pulled him down further, getting rid of his shirt, then pulling off her shrug. "Well, I really don't want to start fixing this place without his input."

He moved in, toying with her top. "And I don't want to... Yeah. I got nothing to do but wait." He pulled it over her head and tossed it away. "Jesus. How long has it been?"

"About three weeks now. And it might be even longer before we get any time alone again."

"So this is necessary."

She nodded and pulled at his belt. "Work-related, even."

He chuckled and unclasped her bra. "It'll improve our job performance."

"Exactly." She opened his jeans and slid her hand inside.

"Mmmm. We should get that bed open before..."

"No time for that." She pulled him down to the floor with her.

"Insatiable woman," he said on a laugh. "I'm beginning to think..."

"You want to talk?" She slid her hand into his jockey shorts. "We've had three weeks of talking by now."

"Good point." He gasped and pulled her hand out. "That's a lot of not-sex to make up for. And only hours to do it in. So you better slow down, there, Missy. No time for down time."

"Missy? I thought I was Baby."

"What?"

"That's what you kept calling me when you were all drugged up."

"I did not."

"Oh, you did. Now I need a nickname for you. You brought up Tiny Oliver earlier, so I guess if you like that one..."

"Don't you dare." He pinned her to the floor. "Anyway, you know better."

"I don't know. It's been three weeks."

"Well, let's refresh your memory... Baby."

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CHAPTER NINETEEN

There! All done with Hostage. I'll be coming back with Salvation and with my final roadblock to looooove.

We're in the home stretch now. I'm thinking two more chapters and an epilogue!