TITLE: "Archer"

PG-13

The usual disclaimers apply.

BACKGROUND: Oliver Queen disappeared in the South Pacific during a solo yachting race. One year has passed: he has returned from his watery grave. Back from the dead. During his absence, Lionel Luthor has seized much of his family's fortunes. The Star City industrialist has arrived in Smallville to take back what belongs to him. Lex values him as an old friend, but is he willing to challenge Lionel once more to recapture Oliver's inheritance? The shadow of the bat lingers still, and Clark learns of a rift between Bruce and the future Green Arrow. Old demons awake ... can Clark grapple with the fallout?

Chapter 1

[The Talon, Smallville]

Lex strolled into the coffeehouse, with one ear to a cellphone and his eyes focused on the headline of the Daily Planet's early edition rolled in his hand:

'STAR CITY INDUSTRIALIST FOUND! Queen rescued from tropical island'

"Good morning, Lex," Lana beamed. "The usual?"

Lex, preoccupied with his phone call, nodded. He placed the paper on the counter, as he struggled to pull out a five-dollar bill.

"I hold the majority of LexCorp.'s voting shares," Lex argued on the cellphone, "so what I'm saying is we don't proceed on the deal until I have a chance to address the shareholders!" He clicked off his phone, visibly frustrated with whoever was on the other line.

Lana glanced at the Planet headline as she served Lex's cup of coffee. "I see you've heard about the big news today."

Lex unfurled the paper. Oliver Queen, with his close-cropped blond hair and steely green eyes, stared out at him from the front page. To Lex, it was like he was staring at a ghost. Ollie was known as an adventurer: expert horseman, sailor, outdoorsman, archer, pilot, parachute jumper. He did it all. Lived life to the fullest.

Lived on the edge.

He was the heir of Queen Enterprises, one of the world's leading mining operations – and specializing in precious metals and diamonds. The world was his playground ... and did he play! Whether it was the opening of a new mine in Asia or a branch plant opening, Queen always did something flamboyant – arriving on an elephant, or sky diving to the press conference – to sell it to the media. And, not surprisingly, he'd have either an up- and-coming starlet or model on his arm.

That life disappeared one year ago. Queen had joined a round-the-world yachting competition. The winning purse was $1 million, but he could care less about the money. He wanted to push his limits, as he sailed solo from New York City, beyond South America and into the South Pacific. His last online journal reported he was about 100 nautical miles southwest of French Polynesia.

"I never knew you were a friend of Oliver Queen?" Lana inquired.

"We traveled in similar circles," Lex admitted. "During my misspent youth, Ollie was my partner-in-crime. From Star City to New York to Venice – and all points in-between – we caused quite a stir. I can't recall how many boarding school headmasters we terrified back then."

"And you miss those times?" Lana grinned.

"No, I don't," Lex stated, "because of what I was then. I like who I am now. But ... I do miss Oliver. He was one of the few friends I had when I was younger. When his yacht vanished in the South Seas during tropical storm Gayle, I realized that I might never have a friend like him again: someone who shared my own flaws and grappled with them. LuthorCorp., under my father's direction, launched a hostile takeover of Queen Enterprises soon after Oliver's disappearance and broke it into pieces. A century of Queen tradition smashed to turn a quick profit! Ollie's coming home to a weakened family company, one a mere shadow of its former glory. Lionel Luthor mercifully left him the diamond-mining operation, but he took everything else. 'Stole' would be more appropriate. Now that Oliver Queen has risen from the dead, perhaps we can have a reunion. And, hopefully, we can reclaim what he has lost. Maybe I'll throw him a party in Metropolis."

Lana gazed at the front page. Queen, as described by Lex, was a larger-than- life figure. Full of confidence. But the picture didn't reflect that. His green eyes seemed pained. Troubled. One year in isolation on a deserted island would do that to you, she mused.

"That would be quite a party," Lana noted, as Lex finished off his cup of coffee.

"You can find out for yourself," Lex smiled, "because you'll be invited. I'd better book Luthor Hall at the museum today. There's catering, press conference details ..." He gathered his briefcase and picked up the paper. "Thanks for the coffee."

When Lex left, Lana turned up the television volume. All the networks had covered Oliver Queen's triumphant arrival yesterday at Seattle International Airport. In one report, Oliver carefully held the stair railings as he slowly stepped off the airplane. He didn't seem confident at all. Would he even be the same man that Lex remembered, she wondered, after what he's been through?

[Wayne Enterprises Building – Metropolis]

Lucius Fox stacked the pile of speeches atop the table. Mr. Fox was Wayne Enterprises' chief operating officer: the engine behind one of America's dominant corporations. He was a stickler for details, deadlines and returns on investment.

Clark shuddered at the growing tower of paper. He was glad to help out Bruce, who had become a close friend over the past two years. Bruce had been involved in a car accident on a lonely Smallville road, and Clark had rescued him. No one knew that he had used his special abilities to save Gotham's favourite son.

Yet.

But he couldn't help but wonder if Bruce knew more than he was letting on. Lex had attended boarding schools with Wayne, but Clark could never tell if they were still pals or rivals. Their world – one of glittering galas, corporate takeovers and paparazzi – seemed distant and alien.

Lucius laughed. "You sure you can handle all those speeches, Clark? Bruce is speaking at Metropolis U., there's the Board of Trade meeting, a half dozen press releases ..."

I could proofread and edit those documents in 5-10 minutes, Clark thought. But Lucius Fox doesn't need to know that. "I'll just prioritize them. Fit in the work in between my chores, schoolwork, Torch articles ... I'll have them done, Mr. Fox. By Friday."

"Now that's the can-do attitude I wanted to hear!" Lucius exclaimed. When Clark stuffed the documents into his backpack, he opened the door. There, on the floor, he picked up the morning editions of the Gotham Times and the Daily Planet.

"Extra, extra," Clark mumbled, as he read the front page:

"QUEEN ALIVE! - HEIR TO MINING EMPIRE FOUND ON DESERTED ISLE"

"So, he's alive after all," Lucius muttered.

"I guess Bruce will be glad to hear that his old friend is alive," Clark added, but Lucius' glare quickly silenced him.

"I guess Bruce didn't tell you," Lucius frowned, as he skimmed the front page of the Planet.

"Tell me about what?" Clark wondered.

"I probably shouldn't get into much detail," Lucius hesitated, "but you're his friend. You should know. No need for you to get blind-sided. In some ways, Oliver Queen, Lex Luthor and Bruce Wayne are cut from the same cloth. Born into a life of privilege, but raised to understand that such status comes at a price. Bruce knew that price all too well ..."

Clark paused. "I ... didn't mean to pry into Bruce's past ..."

"No, it's nothing you couldn't find out by reading the papers," Lucius remarked. "I guess Bruce grew up quickly because of the tragic loss of his parents. He took that responsibility – to uphold the family's honour – seriously. Oliver Queen, in contrast, was reckless: an adventurer, a playboy. He lived for the moment ... and to hell with how it reflected on his family. He had much more in common with your buddy, Lex, than you'd realize. No one believed he could run a multinational corporation, least of all the Queens. Anyhow, three months before Oliver joined that yachting race, he had a falling out with Bruce. Words were exchanged ... and Queen vowed never to speak to Bruce again."

"But I thought they were close?" Clark wondered.

"So did I," Lucius replied. "But you know Bruce ... he refused to say anything more about it. 'It was a private matter', he'd say. Typical. When Oliver's yacht disappeared, Bruce pulled all the strings he had at the State Department. Obliged by some familial duty he felt he owed to the Queen family. When the navy called off the search after three weeks, we all assumed Oliver Queen was a goner. And now he's back from the dead. I don't know how Bruce will react, to be honest with you."

With a slap on the shoulder, Lucius sent Wayne Enterprises' freelance editor off into the morning rush hour. Clark was troubled that Bruce hadn't mentioned this fallout with Oliver, mere months before the yacht's disappearance.

Yet another skeleton in Bruce's dark closet, he thought. Perhaps Lex knew more about this alleged rift between Bruce and Oliver.

[Torch office, Smallville High]

"Remember, Pete," Chloe said, "I want that interview with the basketball coach. It's his third straight loss!"

"I know," Pete replied. "Who'd have thought we'd have to face off against Fawcett City to stay in the playoff round?" He brushed past Clark as he left the office. "Clark Kent, you finally decided to show up. What happened – they were serving caviar at Wayne Enterprises?"

"Funny, Pete," Clark grinned. "I got some proofreading assignments from Bruce."

"Maybe so, Clark," Chloe stated, concentrating on the computer monitor. "But I still need 500 words on the school recycling project by Thursday." Clark seemed like he was overworked. First Lex, now Bruce. She often wondered how Clark managed to gather millionaire friends the way some people gathered spare change.

Clark studied the dog-eared copy of the Planet on Chloe's desk. She had already devoured its contents this morning. "Chloe, what do you know of mining magnate Oliver Queen?" he wondered.

"Oliver Queen, eh," Chloe replied. "Son and heir to the Queen family's mining fortunes, based in Star City and Seattle. They're like the Rockefellers of the west coast. Though his empire is much smaller than when he disappeared around French Polynesia a year ago. Not surprisingly, Lionel seized upon his yachting mishap to launch a hostile takeover of Queen Enterprises' manufacturing and research divisions. I think the NAFTA review board is examining if he violated any competition guidelines, but I gather it's just a formality. Most of Queen's corporate assets will belong to LuthorCorp. by the beginning of summer. The Queen clan managed to hang on to their mining operations, since that was how they built their fortune in the first place. I've heard he's an accomplished triathlete and an Olympic- level archer – which might explain how he survived one year in the South Pacific on manta rays and wild boars."

Clark still looked puzzled. "Why the interest in 'Survivor' Queen?" she wondered.

Clark didn't answer right away. He studied the photograph of Oliver Queen, whose green eyes seemed haunted by some hidden pain.

"Oh, it's something Mr. Fox – Bruce's friend – told me," Clark finally answered. "He said they had a falling-out a few months before Queen sailed off on that solo yachting race."

"Well, Oliver was Lex's party-mate when he was breaking all the rules, not to mention more than one luxury sports car," Chloe added. "Bruce never acted reckless like that. At least not in public! He seems to be more guarded, but you know that, Clark. You're one of his closest friends."

Clark folded up the paper as he left the Torch office. "I am his friend. So why hasn't he told me about this rift with Oliver?"

He stopped at a convenience store to pick up some gum. When he left, a taxi was parked along the curb. A tall man, with a wide-brimmed panama hat, left the cab and paid the driver the fare. The stranger wasn't from around here, Clark thought. The man had a few days' growth on his beard and moustache. His face was bronzed by the sun.

When the man lifted his head, Clark saw them. Those emerald green eyes – the same haunted eyes that stared back at him from the Planet's front page a few minutes ago.

Clark gasped. "You're – you're ..."

"Yes, you're right," the man replied, as he extended his hand to greet Clark. "I'm Oliver Queen. The reports are true. I'm back from my subtropical grave."

Clark was still stunned. "Hi, I'm Clark Kent." He couldn't believe that the infamous adventurer from Star City was in his home town. "Do you know where you're going, Mr. Queen?"

"The Luthor estate," Oliver replied.

"I'm a friend of Lex Luthor's," Clark added. "I'll give you a lift to the estate."

"Lex is here!" Oliver exclaimed. "Just like old times. I'm here to raise a little hell ... and to take back what's rightfully mine. So, you're a buddy of Lex, eh? Has he told you about all the havoc we caused when we were freshman at Metropolis U.?"

"No," Clark grinned sheepishly, "but I guess I'm going to hear about them soon enough!"

Oliver laughed as he stepped into Clark's truck. "And hear about them, you will! Any friend of Alexander Luthor's gotta be a stand-up guy in my book."

On the drive to the Luthor estate, Clark thought of asking Queen about his relationship with Bruce, but decided against it. It's none of my business, he concluded.

Bruce valued his privacy. It was his refuge, and he deserved to keep it – even if someone like Oliver Queen had risen from the dead to raise hell in Smallville.

And awaken past demons.