Hi guys! So here we go – the start of my fifth Green Arrow story. It picks up two months after the events of "Consequences," when Chloe and Oliver were forced into a game of life and death by Winslow Schott, aka Toyman. Don't worry if you haven't read my other stories, as this one is self-contained; however, it will make more sense if you remember the following:
Chloe and Oliver are now engaged, their relationship having developed over my previous four stories.
Lex is now locked up in a secret Queen Industries facility, having discovered Oliver's identity as the Green Arrow.
Jimmy's love for Chloe has made him deeply jealous of Oliver. This jealously has turned more and more sinister in recent stories, with him secretly trying to engineer Oliver's death.
This story is going to build on the idea of Jimmy trying to break Chloe and Oliver apart. There are going to be some surprises along the way (including the set-up for another possible story), and, me being me, lots of angst – well, you wouldn't expect anything else, would you?
Chapter One: To spoil a perfect day
Could it get any better than this?
It was a question Chloe had asked herself a lot in recent weeks. Now, as she sat outside her favorite coffee shop in the heart of Metropolis, bathed in the sunlight that beamed down from a crystal clear sky, the answer seemed never clearer. Two months had passed since her ordeal at the hands of Winslow Schott, and at last the memory of those terrible days was fading. More importantly, Oliver too seemed to be putting his experiences at the hands of the madman behind him; in fact, he appeared to be putting all the traumas of the past months firmly to the back of his sub-consciousness. The physical scars had healed, and if anything he now seemed stronger than ever, in both mind and body. It was as if he had been given a new lease of life, as if his brush with death had left him rejuvenated. This had proved to be bad news for the criminals of the city, of course; like a one-man army, Oliver's Green Arrow alter ego had cut a swathe of destruction through the Metropolis underworld since he had recovered from the wounds that Schott had inflicted upon him. The Syndicate that had controlled the city's supply of drugs had been forced to abandon its operation, its local leaders captured by the Archer and delivered, bound and humiliated, to the central police station. Chloe smiled as she recalled the sensation that Oliver's actions had caused; five of the city's most wanted crime bosses, lying trussed up and helpless outside the rear entrance to the station house, each with an arrow tied in his mouth. Oliver had an eye for the theatrical, but that day took the reputation of the Arrow to an entirely new level. Now the media couldn't get enough of the mysterious vigilante who had achieved in the space of a few weeks what the combined efforts of the various law enforcement agencies had failed to do in years; destroy organised crime in Metropolis. The Arrow was now more than a man – he was fast becoming a legend.
Yet, despite all of that, it was not Oliver's achievements as the Green Arrow that gave her a feeling of warmth inside to match the warmth of the sun that now fell across her face. It was something far simpler, something unconnected with secret double lives or acts of heroism on the streets of Metropolis.
Love.
It was love that explained the smile that was never far from her lips these days, love that filled her with a strange mixture of excitement and deep inner contentment. She still had to pinch herself every now and again, to convince herself that it really was all true; she really was engaged to one of the country's most eligible bachelors, a man who just months earlier had literally had scores of women throwing themselves at his feet. But that was all part of the past; now Oliver Queen only had eyes for her. And he did love her – she could see it in the way he looked at her, the way he kissed her, the way he held her so tenderly after they made love to each other. His love for her was as deep as her love for him, the connection they shared with each other perhaps impossible for anyone who has not experienced true love to ever fully understand. They were perfect for each other, and soon the miracle that was their finding each other would be complete, and she would become Mrs Oliver Queen.
Mrs Oliver Queen. Who would have thought a year ago that soon she would be married to her very own knight in green leather, a man whose gorgeousness was only surpassed by the beauty of his personality? There could be no doubt about it – she really was the luckiest woman alive.
The roar of a motorcycle's engine sounded above the usual din of the passing traffic. A number of heads turned, to be joined by still more as the red Ducati glided to a halt in front of Chloe's table. Sitting astride the powerful machine was the tall figure of a man, clad head to toe in black leather. The sun glinting on the highly polished chrome and paintwork of the bike, coupled with the lean, well muscled figure of the mysterious biker, was an arresting site, and not a few of those sitting out enjoying their morning latte found themselves looking longer than was normal at the new arrival. Chloe smiled; only she knew the identity of the young biker who was now reaching to take off his helmet, and it was so typical of him to make himself the center of attention, almost without trying...
"Ready?" said Oliver, finally revealing himself to the assembled onlookers, a broad grin on his face.
Was that a gasp that Chloe heard from the young woman sitting at the next table? It might well have been, because Oliver's effortless good looks had rarely seemed so stunning; the shock of blond hair, slightly dampened by sweat, sitting atop that incredible, flawless face, glistening with the moisture of perspiration in the bright morning sun. For a split second she was reminded of her first meeting with Oliver, when his appearance had left her breathless; that had been her "wow" moment, and she never ceased to get a child-like thrill when others experienced the same reaction over a man who now only had eyes for her.
She reached across for her helmet, which sat on an empty chair to her left. As she took her position behind Oliver on the bike, pulling on her helmet and wrapping her arms around his body, she was aware of a dozen pairs of eyes watching her. Were they jealous? Probably – hell, she'd be jealous if she was them. But she didn't care – this was her fantasy, her perfect dream, and she was living it.
Another roar of the Ducati's engine and the two of them sped off, Chloe holding on to Oliver as he expertly weaved his way through the busy mid-morning traffic. The conversations of the other customers at the coffee shop resumed, the brief drama of Oliver's appearance no longer commanding their attention. Only one pair of eyes continued to watch as the Ducati disappeared into the distance, a pair of eyes that had been watching and waiting from a doorway on the other side of the street ever since Chloe had arrived there thirty or so minutes earlier.
The man pulled his cell from the pocket of his jacket, and swiftly placed a call. It only rang once, before a voice could be heard on the other end of the line; it was as if the call was expected.
"Yes?"
"Make the call."
And with that the man hung up. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, before turning and walking purposefully off in the opposite direction to that taken by the bike and its riders. Outwardly the man appeared calm, but inside his heart was beating furiously. Two months of careful planning were now coming to a head, and he was acutely aware that the call he had just made had started a process that would soon gather an unstoppable momentum of its own. The prize was great – the love of the woman who he desired more than anything else in the world. Would that be worth it? Was the love of Chloe Sullivan worth a man's life? Worth committing murder for?
Yes – yes was the answer he had arrived at long before this moment.
He could not live without Chloe – he could not bear to see her in the arms of another. If that meant he had to kill, then so be it – nothing else mattered anymore.
But that was in the future. For now Jimmy Olsen took satisfaction in the thought of what lay ahead for his rival as he sped out of the city.
Enjoy the ride while you can, Oliver – because I don't think you're going to like how it ends.
The city was behind them now, and at last the Ducati was able to show what it could do. The open road lay before them, and as Oliver accelerated away Chloe felt exhilarated, even euphoric. The roar of the air rushing past filled her ears, and as she crouched in behind Oliver's reassuring figure she could sense the speed of the machine as it cut its path along the highway. There was something thrilling, something profoundly elemental about the experience; she loved it, and never failed to jump at the chance to join Oliver when he said he was going to give one of his bikes a run out. Perhaps it was because in some way the bike represented freedom, an escape from the pressures and commitments of life as Metropolis's most talked about couple. Here, hurtling down an almost empty road, they were free to be themselves, shorn of the complications that his double life as a billionaire businessman and costumed vigilante brought with it. They were just two young lovers, enjoying being together behind the anonymity of their tinted visors; for Chloe, that was as close to perfect as it was possible to be.
As Oliver negotiated a curve in the road the bike banked slightly to the left, and Chloe found herself gripping her lover that little bit more tightly. He felt good, his tight abs well defined beneath the smooth leather of his biker jacket. Chloe smiled to herself, once more feeling the thrill of a teenager as she delighted in the fact that this most handsome, this most masculine of men was hers, and hers alone.
Suddenly the wail of a police siren cut through the by now familiar sound of the wind rushing past. Chloe was aware of Oliver glancing in his mirror, before starting to slow the bike down; within a few seconds he'd brought the Ducati to a halt by the side of the road. Uncertain what was going on, Chloe glanced behind, to find that a police car had pulled up just a few yards behind them.
"What's happening? What do they want?" she asked, having followed Oliver's example and removed her helmet.
"It's probably nothing – relax," replied Oliver, sensing her concern. He stepped off the bike, before turning and walking towards the car and the two officers who had got out to meet them.
"Hi guys! Hey, I'm sorry about the speed back there – guess I still haven't got used to what this little baby can do," said Oliver, an easy grin on his face. If he was hoping the famous Queen charm was going to work its usual magic, it was immediately clear he was going to be disappointed; the two officers returned his gaze stony-faced.
"Mr Queen – Mr Oliver Queen?" asked one of the officers, viewing Oliver suspiciously.
"Yeah...that's me," said Oliver, his tone less certain now; he hadn't expected them to know his name.
"Mr Queen, we have information that leads us to believe that you are carrying illegal drugs on your person."
There was silence for a moment, Oliver not quite believing what he'd just heard.
"Really? This is some sort of joke, right?" he said finally, a half smile on his lips; the accusation was so incredible he suspected that the two officers who stood in front of him were not officers at all, but part of some sort of elaborate wind-up organised by Bart or one of the others.
"No joke, sir. Now, if you'd just like to raise your arms to your sides, my colleague here needs to search you."
Again Oliver looked at the two men, as if he were waiting for them to burst out laughing and reveal it was all a gag after all.
"No – sorry guys, but I'm not buying it. Who put you up to this? Bart, right? I must admit, the squad car is a nice touch. Tell him I'm impressed – I really am. But Chloe and me, we're out of here."
With that he turned and started to walk back towards Chloe. Her ashen face told him immediately that something was wrong, and the words that followed confirmed it.
"Stop right there!" demanded the officer. Even before Oliver turned to face him, he knew that the man had pulled a gun; the sight of it being aimed straight at his head at last convinced him that this was no practical joke.
"Davis, search him!" ordered the officer with the gun. The other man stepped forward, and began to frisk Oliver, who never once took his eyes from the man who continued to train his weapon at him.
"This is all some big mistake," he said, trying to remain calm. "I don't know who told you I was carrying drugs, but it's crazy, I'm..."
"Found something!" interrupted the officer who was searching Oliver. He reached inside one of the front pockets of Oliver's jacket, and pulled out a small plastic bag, inside which could be seen a dozen or so light green pills.
"It's Zed, Cal, I'm sure of it!" he exclaimed breathlessly, clearly excited that his search had brought dividends.
Zed was one of the new designer drugs that had hit Metropolis in the last year. Highly addictive, it had fuelled a mini crime wave as addicts resorted to anything to get the money for their next fix. The activities of the Green Arrow had all but destroyed the supply of Zed to the city over the previous two months, an irony not lost on the young man who now stared incredulously at the small bag being held up next to him.
"No, no, that's not right – it can't be," said Oliver, reaching instinctively for the bag. This was a mistake; nimbly the officer side-stepped Oliver, before grabbing the young hero and slamming him hard down on to the front of his patrol car.
"Looks like we've bagged ourselves a celebrity, Cal!" gloated the officer as he roughly pulled Oliver's arms behind his back, before placing him in handcuffs. "Oliver Queen, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent..."
Oliver didn't hear any more. It had all happened so quickly; he felt confused, disorientated. Where had the pills come from? How did these guys know they were there? So many unanswered questions, his brain was spinning. He glanced to his side, and caught a glimpse of Chloe, her face as white as a sheet. What was she thinking? Surely she wouldn't believe any of this, would she? He needed to talk to her, to reassure her...
But that was for later. For now he had to deal with the crisis at hand, a crisis he never thought he'd have to face.
He, Oliver Queen, was under arrest.
So there you go, guys – what did you think? Evil Jimmy is back with a vengeance – and his wicked scheme has only just begun! I've appreciated all the support I've had with my other stories, and I hope that you will be as generous with this one. Please, please, please leave a review if you can – they mean so much, and without feedback it is so difficult to keep the writing going.
Chlollie for Season Ten!
