Whirlwind (1/3)

Title: Whirlwind
Rating: PG-13
Author: Sxymami0909
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Chloe-Centric (Oliver/Chloe implied)
Word Count: 500
Prompt: Chloe's reaction to Oliver going off grid



She was in the middle of taking a sip from her third cup of coffee when it happened. One minute she was glancing at the flat screen, a black and white video feed of Oliver, arrow poised and ready to shoot the man in front of him when everything went blank.

For about thirty seconds Chloe was frozen, startled. She figured something had malfunctioned and so she walked over to the mainframe computer to fiddle around and hack into a different stream from a surrounding camera.

After sixty seconds white noise appeared on every screen before changing into a mass of scrambled colors. She could feel her heart start to hammer in her chest as she redirected the signals and still no image appeared.

She pressed her ear piece turning it on, lips clenched and voice tight as she spoke into the mic, reminding herself to keep calm.

“Green Arrow…come in Green Arrow.”

When all she got was static she tore the earpiece from her ear and threw it in front of her, frustration evident in her every move as she frantically tapped at keys. Oliver was gone. The thought made the muscles in her stomach clench as panic and fear rose inside of her.

She closed her eyes briefly before running over to her desk, grabbing her cell phone and texting Clark. If he was patrolling maybe he could check on the situation. Be her eyes and ears. After pressing send, she moved back over to the monitors and attempted to hijack other feeds, but nothing was working.

Within the next ten minutes her worry for Oliver’s safety was amped up to code red levels as she attempted to locate him, failing miserably. She’d already sent Clark five messages and he hadn’t returned any of them. Why she thought she could count on his was beyond her.

What if she couldn’t find him? What if he was hurt and trying to get a message to Watchtower, but couldn’t? A million and one thoughts raced through her head and in that moment something clicked inside of her.

Somewhere during their playful banter and late night activities, she’d managed to fall for their resident Merry Archer in tights…hard. She was terrified that she’d be too late to find him. That his callused finger tips would never send trails of goose bumps down her flesh again.

Finger’s pausing over the keys; mouth slightly ajar, she pictured her world without Oliver Queen in it and the whirlwind of emotions that flew through her almost knocked her off her feet. Hands grasped the edge of the stand, knuckles white.

No, she wouldn’t accept that. Chloe breathed in deep, took control of her emotions, opened her eyes, and started typing again, a new fervor behind her frenzied fingers. She didn’t care what was going on or who was doing it.

She would find Oliver and when she did, the people who kidnapped him would be sorry. Nobody took her man and got away with it.