Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Roswell or anybody to do with Smallville. All funds raised through this work were voluntary contributions to the Support Stacie fund, and do not imply any ownership of Fox/Warner Brothers/DC Comics intellectual property.
Pairings/Couples/Category: Roswell/Smallville crossover, with emphasis on a Maria DeLuca/Oliver Queen romance and suspense.
Rating: TEEN
Summary: Maria was so excited to get a chance to go to Metropolis to record an album of her own music - with all expenses paid by a label connected to the Luthercorp empire. But when she gets attacked in a dark alley, she finds out that she still has to get rescued by arrogant and attractive guys - and that she's stuck in the middle of a plot to expose the Roswell secret from an unexpected direction.
Author's Note: This is, of course, dedicated to Ella1022/fehrfan76, who was high bidder on my Roswell/Crossover auction, and asked me before bidding if I would do crossover UC, because she had her heart set on a Maria/Oliver fic. I said of course I would, and started to get an idea for the plot that would bring those two together before the auction was even finished, and Ella told me to go ahead with it. So...
This is set in early season 8 of Smallville, and many years after graduation in Roswell terms, in an alt timeline where Alex is still alive and nobody had to go on the run to escape the special unit. I've attempted to fit all elements of Smallville continuity into the Roswell world, but established them as 'far away' (as far away as Kansas at least,) so that they've never really impinged on Maria's life until now.
Incidentally, I didn't realize before starting this story that New Mexico and Kansas are less than 100 miles away at their closest points!
I sighed softly to myself as I stepped through the doorway into the baggage pickup section of Metropolis International Airport. I'd pictured this moment, and in my imagination, I'd always either been already carrying my guitar slung over my back already or about to pick it up from one of the carousels. That's the way things are supposed to be - a small-town New Mexico singer-songwriter arriving in the big city to see if she could really make it as a big music star, right? But there are lots of things in this world that don't work out the way they're supposed to be. I've learned that over and over again. Heck, it's probably one of the recurring themes in my lyrics. So why should this one be any different?
It was a choice that I'd made myself, for all of the right reasons. The guitar, I mean. It was an instrument that meant a lot to me, and I'd heard too many stories about instruments getting damaged in a flight to actually trust it to that baggage carousel, no matter how iconic a scene it might be. (Even cliche, perhaps.) And as far as actually carrying it into the business-class section where the label had reserved a seat for me; well, maybe I could have done that. But no matter what Michael said about my chutzpah, I lost my nerve and had it shipped, insured, to the recording studio. Label picked up the tab for the shipping, too - which was generous enough to almost make me suspicious.
But anyway, there I was, so lost in thought that other, less sentimental travellers were bumping into me from behind, (and in one case, trying to grope my behind,) and push past. So I walked around, trying to figure out which carousel I should actually be trying to pick up my maximum of 2 suitcases from. Looked in the carry-on for my ticket, like they're going to print the carousel number on that, and finally twigged in that other people were staring up at the tv screens. There it was. Flight 0427 from Albuquerque, carousel thirteen. Just my luck.
But no obvious bad fortune befell me as I got my belongings together and emerged into Arrivals, pulling one wheeled case along with each hand because they refuse to fasten together the way they were supposed to. And then I saw my own name on one of those cards held up by waiting people. MARIA DeLUCA, with the lower-case e and all. I was somehow so surprised that I knocked my carryon off the suitcase it had been balanced on.
Somehow that maneuver was enough to draw the attention of the card carryer to me. She stood out among the others - a young woman, dressed in bright and bold colors instead of the dark long coats that the older male chauffeurs seemed to favor. "Hi, Maria?" she asked in a voice as bright as the purple of her sweater, coming up to me as I got the bags sorted out again. "Gina Matthews, LexRecords, A&R."
I looked over at her, smiled and nodded slightly. "Nice to meet you." That must have been enough to satisfy her that she hadn't gotten the wrong girl in a case of mistaken identity - and she reached out a hand to me. Though the angle seemed a bit odd, I shook it - and then when she shook back and left the arm in the same position after that was done, I clued in, and passed one of my wheeled suitcases over to her. She took it with a pleased smile.
"We've got the car waiting at the curb," she informed me casually. "How was the flight from Arizona?"
"New Mexico," I corrected her. Oh well, guess I can't expect that she'd know that much about my background, but still the mistake grated on me a little. "Not bad, no complaints in fact other than the fact that it was too short for me to finish the movie. Last time I flew they didn't have those private digital screen thingees."
"Well, we'll have to see if we can get you a chance to see the end," Gina answered with a generous laugh. "Which film was it?"
"The Dark Knight," I answered. "Low-budget thriller about a costumed vigilante teaming up with the police to deal with an anarchist crimelord in Gotham city."
"Oh, I must have missed hearing about that one, but I'll see what I can do." I didn't really care that much about the movie, but it would be interesting to see if Gina, and the label behind her, could deliver on a promise like that. Certainly LexRecords seemed to be taking good care of me so far, but how long would that last once I wasn't the assignment of the day?
The limo that was waiting at the curb was certainly elegant enough, all black and shiny just like they always were in the movies, and Gina got in across from me in the back once the driver had loaded all my luggage into the trunk. "Okay, so, I hope you're not feeling tired much," Gina said as the driver maneuvered confidently out of the airport complex. "The evening schedule allows you a short stop at the hotel to drop of your bags and freshen up, and then there's someone who wants very much to meet you."
"You mean, a lot of people who want very much to meet me," I said, having learned about what I could expect and prepare for it.
"Actually - yes, but most of them aren't going to have a chance tonight. The full VIP meet and greet has been arranged for - let's see, yes, that would be tomorrow night. But Miz Mercer wanted to have the privilege first, and rank does have its privileges. She's made a reservation for two, a late dinner and drinks at Metropolis' hottest spot, the Ace of Clubs."
"Mercer?" I asked, trying to place that among the research I'd done on personnel at the label.
"Tess Mercer, the current CEO of LutherCorp." Oh, right. LexRecords was just a very small subsidiary, really, of the enormous corporate empire founded by the Luthor family. I'd found out that much in my fact-finding, but hadn't bothered cramming on key LuthorCorp personnel. The notion that the head of such a huge corporation would be interested in me was unexpected and a bit disquieting. "But what about - oh, right, I remember now. Lionel Luthor fell from his office window, and Lex Luthor is missing. The family has had some bad luck lately, I suppose." Gina didn't answer or even show much expression - maybe she thought I was being indelicate to refer to any of that, but wouldn't show obvious disapproval. "Alright, um - is there anything I need to know about Miz Mercer before we meet?" Just great, another Tess making her presence felt in my life - though Tess Harding and I have mostly come to terms over the years since West Roswell High. "She must be a very busy lady - any idea why she's making a point out of dinner with an unknown singer who's signed with a small label in the LutherCorp portfolio, on my first night in town?"
"I don't know that much about Miz Mercer," Gina told me, and I realized that she presumably hadn't been told anything about the reasons for the Big Boss lady's decisions either. "She was a scientist in one of our chemical or pharmaceutical research subsidiaries a few years ago, and Lex discovered her, mentored her, promoted her to a management position, and then to make her the Director of that entire company. He left sealed instructions to the Board for what was to be done in the event of his death, incapacitance, or disappearance - and named Mercer as his successor in those papers."
"Ah, I see," I muttered, though I wasn't quite so sure I was getting it all. "That probably ruffled a few feathers - guys who figured they had a shot at the big chair."
"Yes, I suppose so. Miz Mercer is relatively young for the position she holds - but then, so was Lex. In terms of why she's showing an interest in you, Maria - if you're that interested, you might consider asking her that yourself. She has a reputation for appreciating forthright behaviour most of the time, so I doubt she'll get upset with you just for asking."
"Okay, I'll keep that in mind." Easy to say, though, for a girl who I assumed wouldn't even be there at dinner. Would I actually have the nerve to ask? Trying to change the subject, I went back to something else that Gina had mentioned. "So, the label's putting me up at a hotel?"
"Yes, the Metropolis Grand." Once again, they seemed to be sparing no expense on me - was this also an aspect of the attention that Tess Mercer was paying to me? "An excellent suite, I believe, which will be yours to use until you arrange something you can feel more at home with - and that's suitable to the image we insist on projecting with all our artists." Hmm - there was something about that line which felt a bit off to me, but I never really minded being spoiled rotten, so I decided not to worry about it.
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The hotel suite was definitely spoiler stuff in the very best way - elegant in a way that didn't eliminate a slight touch of homeyness, spacious without feeling too big - and the room service menu was almost forty pages long! I'd gladly have stayed in there all night, but Gina knocked on the door as soon as I was out of the shower, so I pulled a nice dress out of my bag and got ready to meet the boss lady.
A bouncer showed me to Tess Mercer's table in the dimly lit club, which was up on the top floor of a Metropolis skyscraper, so in the dim light my first impression wasn't much more than a model-pretty face framed by waves of auburn-red hair. But when I slid into the booth, one of the candles on the table illuminated her a bit more fully, and I realized that there was also strength in the set of her jaw, and iron determination in the stare of her blue-green eyes. I was envious of the combination of beauty and strength that Miss Tess Mercer radiated, but I wasn't sure if I liked her.
"Hello, Miss DeLuca," she said with a nod, and offering her hand. "I'm glad that you were able to come on such short notice. Do you mind if I skip straight to the first-name basis?"
"Umm - I'm not sure," I said, taking her hand, and then taking a drink from the water glass that was nearest me. Ooh - NOT just water - I couldn't identify exactly what was there, maybe just vodka and water, but the swallow that I'd already taken was hitting my stomach, and it did make me feel a bit more at ease. "You - you can call me Maria if you like, sure, but..."
"But you're not sure if you're comfortable calling your bosses' boss Tess?"
"It's partly that," I said, and decided that if I overstated the case a bit, it might sound more reasonable. "I have a good friend back in Roswell, named Tess, so it just feels a bit strange..."
"Oh, of course, I understand," Miss Mercer insisted.
"And since you bring up - just what is my bosses's boss... why are you bothering to meet me like this, Miss Mercer? Frankly, I expected that there'd at least be another level of management between us, and that's why you're paying those executives - to take care of little details so that you don't have to."
"Well, yes." Mercer took a drink from a glass of her own - that one looked nothing like water, maybe red wine. "Actually, LuthorCorp is paying them, but that's nearly as important to me. And the company pays ME to attend personally to the cases that I believe are important enough to deserve such care, and I do believe that you qualify on that basis, Maria. Lex trained me personally, you know..." She paused for a moment. "Yes, you knew that already, I see. Well, Lex was very excited about your contract, my dear, and I think it's a shame that he didn't have the chance to - to see it come to fruition himself."
"Really?" I took another drink from the vodka water and fumbled for a menu to look at. "I guess that surprises me, considering the tack that LexRecords took with me. Signing the recording deal, and then leaving me in college for nearly two and a half years. I mean, to a certain extent I'm glad that nobody whisked me off to Metropolis earlier, but..."
"Timing is important in everything, Maria," Mercer replied, "and the importance or profitability of a project doesn't always mean you need to accelerate it. Lex understood that much, that you had a lot to learn in Albuquerque before you came to Metropolis - learning from your classes at the University of New Mexico, from playing in local clubs, and from practicing the songwriter's craft by yourself and in teams with other fresh local artists."
"You know a lot about my life," I told her, hoping that it was true only up to a point.
"Yes, I suppose I do," Mercer agreed. "The parts of it that relate to the business venture we're in together. I'd like to learn a bit more."
"You mean, vet me to make sure I don't have a scandal lurking that will embarass LuthorCorp?"
"Oh, haven't you heard, Maria? By now, LuthorCorp has acquired a strong resistance to scandal and other bad publicity." I giggled uncertainly at the way she put that. "I'd just need to know the details so I can figure out a way to manage it." No more giggles, back to feeling vaguely uncomfortable. "And since you're staring so intently at the menu, can I reccomend the peppersauce-grilled chicken and spaghettini marinara? Or are you of the vegetarian persuasion? One more detail I don't know about you yet."
"Umm - no, I'll eat beast or fowl if you skin, butcher, or cook it," I rhymed off, which was my mom's stock answer to questions of that sort. "Not - not you personally, I suppose..."
"Don't count me out just yet," Mercer told me with a little smile. "I'm a woman of many unexpected talents."
That set me off giggling nervously again.
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I ended up going for the ribeye steak and garlic mashed potatoes, out of an impulse to throw Mercer off guard more than anything else, but she didn't seem to be phased as she placed her own order for a salmon loaf and tossed salad. And the alcohol just kept on coming...
Just at the time that our food arrived, she started to bring up the subject of my home. (Note, for obvious reasons I'm less than usually confident about the veracity of this specific dialog, but I'm pretty sure this was more or less the sense of it.)
"So, just what do you have waiting for you to come back to New Mexico, aside from an great friend who happens to have an amazing first name?" Mercer laughed merrily at her own joke here.
"Umm - let's see. You're probably fishing for information about my small-town boy - the guy who I might leave all of this behind for if I start to miss him too much?"
"Well, yes, I suppose so. Would be only natural to be concerned at this point, I suppose. LexRecords has big plans for you, Maria DeLuca, plans that can make you big too, but only if you're willing to see things through and put in the time here, maybe travel around on tour after we've got your first album recorded."
"Okay, well... the guy from my past is - is Michael, and there's a lot to say about him, but... but I'm afraid he's just the past. We, umm - well, we didn't part on the best of terms."
"Would it sound too hypocritical to say that I'm sorry to hear that?"
I ignored that, took a bite of steak and one of potatoes, washed them both down liberally, and continued. "Let's see - I met Michael years ago, back in high school - through friends of friends, wasn't wild about him at first, then the sparks started to fly - he kissed me the first time 'to shut me up' during an argument." That was my standard intro to Michael for new people, carefully worked out to eliminate any reference to alien stuff, and it was probably good that I had it down pat enough that I could manage the recitation without any extras even as I was getting drunk. "But when we graduated high school and I got into the state school in Albuquerque, well, Michael couldn't stay in lock step with my life through that, but overall we kept our relationship working. He was able to finish high school with half-decent grades, working hard at it, but when he tried the junior college he just couldn't stick with it. Working was better for him - he did security guarding for a while, and then got a chance to start in a restaurant kitchen. Or go back, I suppose, he was working in the Crashdown cafe as a fry cook during high school - I waitressed there, and so did my best friend Liz, her parents ran the diner."
"Okay, I think I follow you so far," Mercer agreed. "Get to the bad parting?"
"Hang on, I'm laying groundwork," I insisted. "So, for a lot of the time when I was in Albuquerque, Michael was able to find work too, but then he got an offer to run the kitchen for a Texan grill back in Roswell, and we agreed that he should take it. I only had one more semester to go before I graduated, and I told him that I'd go back to Roswell then - though I didn't say for how long, and he thought... well anyway, a few days before I finished my last exam, I got the call from that LexRecords executive, saying that you wanted to start on recording my album in October, and we - I hadn't forgotten signing the deal, but after two and a half years, it was just something I was used to being in the background."
"What did Michael think about the LexRecords deal when you signed it in the first place?" Tess probed. "Did you ask him about it when you were first scouted?"
"Yeah, of course - but we'd been in a different place back then. He sort of expected that I'd probably be going on tour in a few months, as soon as the classes that I was taking then were done. I did to, though the record hadn't said anything about a timeframe. So..."
And then I broke off, because someone was stepping up to the table with a big friendly grin on his -- very handsome face. "Hey, Mercy, how's the deal coming?" He was a friendly, buff, frat-boy type, dark blonde hair sticking up in tips that were highlighted a brighter gold, and somehow for all the casualness of his appearance the guy seemed very comfortable in the black tuxedo that he was wearing.
Mercy - hey, I suddenly liked that nickname for her in my head, even if I might not ever have the nerve to use it to her face - turned a slightly scornful look on the newcomer. "What deal, Oliver?"
"Umm - I assumed that you were here to negotiate some multi-million deal," the Oliver guy said, favoring us both with a bright smile. "Who's your charming and talkative friend?"
"Maria DeLuca," I introduced myself, offering Oliver a handshake too. "Actually, the deal's already been signed, years ago. LexRecords is going to make me a worldwide rock star!"
"Really?" Oliver lifted his eyebrows in an overdone look of wide shock. "But if they've already had years to get started, then why haven't I..."
"No, not really. They scouted my talent back then, but - but I wasn't ready back then. Wanted to finish college, and pay my dues locally."
"Remember that the next time you accuse the LuthorCorp empire of being impatient and just out to make a quick buck," Mercy told Oliver frostily.
"Why, Miss Mercer, I've never said such a thing, and never will," Oliver protested. "The Luthors have always been masters of patience - they're out to grab money and power whenever they can, but when the objective is worth the wait, they're capable of sticking to a plan for - oh, for decades at least." He let that ominous directive hang in the air for a moment. "So I'll leave you two ladies to your own planning. Good night." And with a tip of an imaginary hat, he moved on. I couldn't tell whether he had courtesy calls to pay at other tables or was on his way out of the club. As far as that, maybe he had his own dinner engagement.
Unable to restrain my curiousity, I turned to Mercy. "So, just who was that?"
"Oh - have you heard of Oliver Queen, the young CEO of Queen Industries?"
"Umm, only vaguely."
"That's good enough for him." Oh, well - I was more comfortable with looking up dirt on my own with the netbook in my hotel room than pumping Mercy for her point of view. "Now, I think you were in the middle of telling me about your friends back in Roswell - who was this girl who you waitressed with?"
I sighed and gave her the very brief, safe version of Liz and my history.
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After that somewhat rocky start, (and the hung-over morning that came after my meeting with Tess,) I settled into life in Metropolis working with LexRecords fairly well over the course of the next week and a half. We started laying down two different songs in the studio which the label people thought had good radio single potential, and I played a few venues in Metropolis, trying to build buzz. I even went back to the Ace of Clubs as a performer and sang a set there, which was definitely fun. And there was the 'full VIP meet and greet' to be gotten through, and several other fancy parties that I was invited to, and though I didn't enjoy them much and stopped looking forward to them, I understood enough of the deal to not put up much of a fuss - the label wanted to get some publicity for its newest 'rising star', and I certainly wasn't in a good position to complain, considering how well they were treating me otherwise.
I tried to look for an apartment of my own, but there wasn't much time to put into that, so I sort of got used to living in that fabulous hotel suite. Called back home to Liz, and spoke with Alex a lot - they're interning up in Seattle now, him with a software company, and Isabel in a hospital. By now it was completely normal to not talk with either of them about - about the secret stuff, and refer to it vaguely in code whenever it did need to be mentioned. We were always careful about phone calls, in case some nut in the FBI or whatever is tapping our lines. Wrote Michael an email, but he didn't get back to me, which was about what I had expected.
I hadn't been graced with Mercy's presence again, (I still liked that nickname for her,) but Oliver Queen kept popping up - he was at the VIP party, think that he crashed it - he probably qualifies as a VIP under most circumstances, but wasn't one of the ones that the label specifically invited. And I'm sure I saw near the front of the crowd when I played Ace of Clubs. Apparently he had a 'wild playboy' rep in the tabloids - maybe if I did make it as the music scene's next it girl he was planning to sweep me off for a torrid and extremely brief, passionate affair. Whatever.
But one night - well, I was playing at a rootsy club in Southside, which was a neighborhood that Liz and Max had both told me to be careful of, but it didn't look too bad when I first got there. The show was great - by this time I was really getting to know the band that LexRecords had paired me up with for public shows - they were local boys who were happy to be getting more money coming in and some good exposure, and the lead guitarist mentioned that if they got a chance to make an album themselves, he'd love for me to come in and sing for at least a few of their tracks.
The crowd seemed to really love us and demanded two encores, and once I'd changed and packed up, I was very stunned to realize that the limo that I'd arrived in just wasn't waiting outside any more. For a moment I couldn't think what to do - just stand there looking stupid? Go back inside and see if the guys in the band were still around, and if they had room in their ride? Try to call a cab - did I still have that emergency cash in my purse??
I decided, for whatever reason, to walk around the area and see if the driver was waiting for me a little bit further away. Maybe he hadn't known exactly when I'd be finished inside. I hadn't gotten to the end of the alley that I'd been expecting my ride to be waiting in when THEY stepped out of a shadow. Three big guys, dressed in dark colors and with mean looks on their faces. One held a gun, not pointing it but letting it hang at his side, the second was fiddling with a nasty looking knife, and their friend just grabbed my arm. I tried to pull away or toss him with a judo throw or something, but he was too big and those lessons I took were too long ago. "What, what do you..." Suddenly desperate, I tried to shrug my purse into my free hand, meaning to throw it to the guy with the gun and hope that they'd be satisfied with that.
He caught it in his off hand, but scowled and seemed to still be dissatisfied. "This ISN'T about your purse, or anything in it, or money," the guy who was still holding me tight growled threateningly.
"Then - then what do you want?" I asked, seriously freaking out. Possible answers flashed through my head - had they come to gangbang-rape me? Kill me for no particular reason? Maim, scar, and disfigure me and leave me howling in pain just because that was how they got their kicks? Torture me out of a mistaken impression that I was Jack Bauer's latest cryptography specialist??
"Yeah, that's right." Knife-boy seemed to sense that I was dwelling on the worst possibilities that could occur to me. "Just keep thinking like that for a while, and eventually you'll hit on it. Be afraid, pretty girl - be very afraid, because we're your worst night..."
WHIZZWHAM! Something flew through the air, that I couldn't quite see, and the gunman's arm jerked, the one that was holding the gun - the pistol flew loose across the asphalt surface. There was a moment of panic among all three criminals - the gunman dropped my purse and struggled to do something with his affected arm that I couldn't quite see. The one who had grabbed me took another hold on my shoulder and pulled me tighter. It took a second to realize that this wasn't a prelude to rape or any other kind of sexual assault - he was trying to get me into a position where I would shield his body from something. I tried to turn around to see who else had appeared on the scene, or what was going on, but was being held hard enough that I couldn't turn around and see behind me, which was where they were all focused. I saw mister Knife wind up and throw his weapon with every ounce of desperate strength that he could manage, but didn't see what happened in result.
I did see the arrow, striking 'Mac the knife' so quickly that it seemed to have just appeared there, a straight shaft pointing straight into his chest below his shoulder - probably not fatal, but the guy looked like he was in shock and losing some blood. The other guy must have been shot by an arrow too, I realized - I hadn't seen it, but the sound had been right.
A dim recollection of something I'd read about in the Metropolis tabloids occured to me, and I took action, ducking down as best I could and, more successfully, throwing me head to one side.
The third arrow struck straight into my captor's nose, burying deep into what was behind his face in that region. THAT was possibly fatal, and definitely gross, but I was so glad to be able to push him away from me that I didn't care. Looked around, and sure enough, I could just catch a glimpse of a figure on a second-story balcony across the alleyway, in the right spot to have shot those arrows from. I couldn't make out much, but he was carrying a long bow, (at least four and a half feet,) and was wearing a green hood.
A sound distracted my attention from the mysterious stranger - the gunman was still moving, and that might he might still be a danger. I turned to look for him - he wasn't far from where I'd last seen him, and he hadn't gotten the gun back in his hands yet, but he'd pulled the arrow out and was clutching the shaft in his left hand like a weapon. He didn't seem too steady, though, and something occured to me - maybe from a tv show, or those long-ago self defense lessons. I carefully reached out to hold the arrow shaft myself, thus temporarily minimizing the danger from it, and let fly with as powerful a kick to the guy's head as I could manage. My outfit for the night's set had included boots with sharp toes.
And just before I made contact, there was another WHIZZ sound, and a shooting pain - the hooded freak had shot me in the calf!
There's an unclear transition, but the next thing I really remember was sitting on a concrete ledge, (it wasn't really deep enough to sit on and the corner was poking into my backside,) as the green-robed figure dressed and bandaged my wound silently. I looked around for the three attackers - they were all sprawled on the surface of the alley, the one who had grabbed me probably dead by now. And looking at my rescuer, I saw that underneath the hood he wore a green mask that covered his nose and obscured his eyes. Again, that image was familiar from a 'genuine' picture in the tabloids, and this time I actually let myself think the name, to whisper it out loud. "The Green Arrow," I muttered, awed and bemused.
He looked up as his alias was mentioned. "I'm terribly sorry about this," he muttered, with a voice that seemed unnaturally deep and resonant. "Normally I'd never hit the wrong thing, no matter what was going on, but I guess I was distracted and..."
"What?" I shot back, unable to keep back a smirk. "You had no way of anticipating that a woman might try to get a solid shot in herself, that I wouldn't just stand back and let the masked vigilante come to my rescue like a good damsel in distress?"
After a moment, he chuckled softly. "No, I guess that did come as a surprise, though maybe it shouldn't. I know another young lady with that much spirit and determination, so it shouldn't be a surprise that she's not one of a kind." The Green Arrow sighed. "Maybe it's for the best that I had an excuse to come down and meet you in person, though - because now that I think about it, this whole scene is bothering me. It wasn't just some random mugging or attacking on the South Side."
I had to agree with that much, now that he'd said it. "Okay, what do you think was so strange about it?"
"I trailed those three - hoodlums, I guess- here from downtown this evening," he explained. "They knew exactly where to go and where to wait. And I recognize at least two of them as muscle that LuthorCorp has used to get dirty work done in the past."
"LuthorCorp?" I repeated, uncertain now. "But - but I'm working for a LuthorCorp subsidiary - I have a recording deal with LexRecords."
"Right, Maria!" I blinked at him, wondering how the Green Arrow knew my name in that context, but didn't pursue it. He seemed to shake his head slightly, as if that were a slip on his part, and continued. "Maybe a publicity stunt, a brutal attack that can get into the papers, so that the CD buying public hears about Maria DeLuca in a way that gets you sympathy?"
I thought about that. "I don't know about that. You don't have a high opinion of anything to do with the Luthors, now do you?" He let out a sound that was somewhere between a bark and a snarl. "Well, if that's it, my driver or somebody will probably be along soon to - well, to chase off the hoodlums I guess." I chuckled wryly at that.
"Well, I think we have company already, but I'm not sure it's your driver." Green Arrow had finished bandaging my leg by this point, and when I looked at him in some confusion, he nodded over to the other end of the alley, opposite the hoodlums. Sure enough, there were new strangers come upon us.
There were three of them this time as well - dressed in tight back uniforms with some kind of insignia on them - I couldn't tell what the clothes were made of, but the impression was slightly fetishy - leather, spandex, even rubber, something along those lines. From their faces, I guessed that the strangers were slightly younger than me, only around twenty or so - two girls, one with long and very dark hair, the other much lighter, a dark blonde. The young man was dark too, but not as deep a brown as his friend, and trimmed very short.
Green Arrow didn't seem sure how to handle this development, though I could sense somehow that he didn't really trust these black-uniform kids, and they weren't quite sure how to deal with the situation now that he was in it either. "I... I didn't hurt her - well, not on purpose anyway," Green Arrow started, speaking loudly but keeping his tone unthreatening. "And the gentlemen over there, well, they were in the middle of..."
He didn't get any further than that, partly on account of me. I noticed the dark-haired girl's face set in an angry look that told me she had figured out how to deal. Green Arrow dived close to me, instinctively wanting to protect me, and a half-second later a chunk of loose asphalt that had been about a foot behind where he was standing exploded into an impressive column of flame and sparks. If Greenie had been standing where he was when the explosion happened, he would certainly have been badly burned, but now we were both just out of range. I did my best to stare through those holes in the mask, but could still only catch a glimpse of the eyes of the man behind the mask. One thing seemed to be clear, though - he was worried. This might be a vigilante capable of dealing with most of what he could encounter on the streets of Metropolis, but if the other black-clad kids had abilities to match Miss Explosive, then he was probably outgunned.
My face must have been much easier to read than his, even looking out of the mask as he had to do. He made a tiny little shake of his head over the way that the bodies of the first three guys were still lying, and I nodded, understanding what he had in mind, or at least I hoped that I did. I took a split second to catch a breath, put my hand into the Green Arrow's, and we ran like hell. I didn't look back, but hopefully the kids in black hadn't been expecting this.
As we ran, Green reached into the quiver on his back and pulled out an arrow - he didn't fit it into his bow this time, but just swung the shaft behind his back, and I realized that it was rigged to flash an extremely bright light. Just as we reached the end of the alley and were about to dash down the street, I stopped for a moment to catch my breath - I know that it was the worst time to stop, while the black suit kids still had a line of sight on both of us, but I'm not really in shape for the four hundred yard dash and I *couldn't* keep running at that moment.
Green Arrow hung back too, not wanting to leave me in danger, and a streak of bright blue electrical energy caught up to us at high speed and enveloped him, like he was trapped in a bottle full of lightning. Now I took one look behind and saw the girl with the paler hair in a dramatic pose, one palm pointed toward us like Michael when he shoots an alien energy bolt, and a gust of wind still blowing her hair back dramatically. Were these kids aliens too? Then I thought of the Green Arrow and turned back to him - already the electrical arcs had died away, and he didn't seem to be badly hurt, just slightly stunned. When I resumed the running away, he followed along right behind me.
I hesitated for only a fraction of a second at the corner, but Green was able to pass me in that instant, crossing the street while the only cars were several blocks away, and I followed - he might not be able to wipe the floor with everybody, but in desperate circumstances I'll take the only friendly masked avenger who showed up for me, thanks. At the middle of the new block he waited for me to catch up and notched a new arrow onto his bow, looking up at the building that he'd stopped under - it wasn't one of the famous Manhattan skyscrapers, but at a guess it was six stories, which was higher than a lot of the buildings in this part of Southside, like the club, wherever it was, probably a few blocks away by now. As I puffed up to him, Green told me "hold on tight" and then looked like he was surprised at the sound of his own voice.
He wasn't the only one. Instead of the impressive, deep, resonating tones that I'd heard back in the alley, even when he was brainstorming about what the first trio of lowlifes had been up to, now his voice was a charming tenor that seemed somehow familiar. I was just wondering what I was supposed to hold on to when I found out. He shot the arrow nearly straight up, slightly toward the building, and wrapped an arm around me, pulling uncomfortably tight while I was noticing that the arrow was trailing a length of line behind it, and the line appeared to be wrapped around the bow or something like that. "What the heck?" I complained about the over-tight embrace, and then suddenly both of us were shooting up into the air. That arrow must have been rigged up as a grappling hook or something similar, with an auto-winding motor in the bow.
It was still tougher than it looks like in the movies. I wasn't worried about the social implications of the two of us holding each other tight anymore - I was clinging to Green Arrow for my dear life, and I could sense that he was in at least as strenuous straits, because he had to hold me tight with one arm and support the full weight of both of us on the other as it gripped the bow. My body was pressed tight against his, one boob nearly squashed against his side, and a part of my mind couldn't help but notice how strong and toned his muscles were - not obviously ripped but impressive in a subtler way - and that the sweat of his exertion smelled nice in a manly kind of way.
He smashed in a window on the top floor of the building, obviously meaning to swing us both inside, but a security alarm went off, so he hastily decided on a plan B and retracted the grappling line up until I could scramble on to the roof, and then he followed me. With Green leading the way again, we jumped across a small gap to another roof that was about the same height, and down a stairway and inside this new building, which apparently didn't have the same kind of security system, or it didn't cover the stairwells. (Green Arrow used a lock pick on the door, and I expected that to be built into an arrow as well, but it wasn't - looked like one that I'd seen Cousin Sean use once. Guess Green understands about taking a shtick so far that it becomes camp.)
Once we were both waiting in the hallway of that low-rent office building, until the heat of pursuit died down, I turned to Green Arrow. "Your voice - it changed," I said. "Sounded sort of familiar back there. What's going on?" He just shrugged, obviously not feeling the need to explain much to a girl like me - and I realized that maybe I shouldn't have given away that I recognized the second voice. He might be trying to protect his secret identity.
With my typical mix of stubbornness and curiosity, I pushed the case further. "The change - it was after you got an electric shock," I told him. "Maybe something electronic got shorted out - something in that big hood that you use to disguise your voice. And since I recognize your voice, and you knew your name - I've met you before, since coming to Metropolis. Isn't that right - Oliver?"
He stayed quiet, trying to bluff me out, but I just scoffed at that tactic. "Who else knows that Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow? It makes sense that a big tech company is behind all of your specialized arrows and other gear - like that Dark Knight move." Maybe that was what had put the notion of secret identities into my head. "You know, you're going to have to talk to me before we both get out of this mess - you're in as much trouble as I am, now - maybe more. Those kids in black hate your guts, too, don't they. Do you supppose that they work for LuthorCorp too?
Oliver sighed, and shrugged back his hood, though he kept the mask on for now - it made me even more sure that this was really him, though. "Probably. I've heard rumors that Tess was assembling a team of super-powered people."
In this connection, it took me about a second to realize that he didn't mean my Tess. "You mean Mercy? Tess Mercer, I mean?" He shot me a look. "I've been calling her 'Mercy' in my head ever since I heard you do it - I already have a friend named Tess." Oliver nodded in weary acceptance of this explanation. And I'm not quite sure why I blurted this next bit out - maybe it was Tess coming to my mind, or just being tired or confused. "When you say super-powered people, do you mean - aliens or something like that?"
"Aliens?" The question seemed to be significant to Oliver Queen, but he shook his head. "Not aliens, by an large - meteor infected, mostly." My face must have looked absolutely blank to him. "We've had a few unusual meteor showers in this area - one over twenty years ago, another just a few years back." I nodded, because the more recent one, at least, I'd heard about. "The rocks that made it to earth were laced with a particular kind of mineral, that's radioactive in an unusual way - not dangerous to ordinary people in the short term, but people or creatures who are exposed over long periods can be changed - their DNA mutates, and the cell structure is infused with unusual energy... well, the explanations could go on, but people get unusual power. Lots of them also go at least a bit crazy."
"Hmm, okay." I sighed. "So, let's see - to figure out what we have to do next, we need to review what we're up against - and apparently, all the signs point back to LutherCorp. First, three ordinary muscle ruffians, who accosted me in the alleyway. When you rescued me from them, the meteor-infected kids showed up." I thought about that. "Is it possible that the whole thing was a trap for you? Nothing to do with me at all, I was just a convenient victim for you to rescue? Has the Green Arrow been causing LuthorCorp enough trouble, that they'd arrange all this?"
"Maybe," Oliver muttered, "except I can't see how they'd know that I'd find you. Yes, I was tracking the muscle, but I don't think that Tess was tracking me tracking them tonight. I still think that you're part of the motive..." He mulled over that. "And here's why - I don't believe that Mercy would have had dinner with a no-name artist on her label, unless you were part of a secret project of hers, a hidden agenda. What did she talk to you about when the two of you were alone together?"
I started to get some ideas, now that Oliver had connected that dinner with the events of tonight. "She - she was pumping me for information about my friends back in New Mexico," I whispered. "Getting me drunk in the hopes that I'd say more than I meant to, as well."
"And if I hadn't been here, and you'd been jumped by people like those goons, and got a chance to run away, would you have called one of those friends?" Oliver asked, and I had to nod. "Do any of them have - unusual abilities of their own?"
The implications of this were staggering. "Are you thinking that LuthorCorp has known something about - my friends, for years, since I was originally signed?"
"LexRecords approached you that long ago?" Oliver asked, and I nodded. "Then I guess Lex was suspicious enough to be patient."
"Ohboy," I muttered. "Okay, as much as I hate this, it'll do as a plausible theory. What does that mean for us?" I patted the pocket of my tight jeans that I'd sung in. My purse must have slipped off my shoulder around the time that Oliver shot me, but my new little cell phone was inside - the phone that had been a gift from Gina at the label. I brought it out to show Oliver. "So this is..."
He took it and casually tossed it a long way down the hallway. "Certainly bugged to record calls, and transmit its location to Mercy at LuthorCorp via the GPS. Might even be rigged to transmit sounds in its vicinity when it's not open," he recited in a low whisper, leaning close to my ear. "You're going to make one call, to throw her as far off the trail as you can think of, and then we have to get moving again. Soon."
I thought about it, and nodded. For a second I considered refusing to go with Oliver - but if Mercy wanted to find out about Michael, she might consider using tougher techniques when she found out that she couldn't trick me into giving him away. "Okay, if I'm going to lead her astray, I need to know which way we're going."
Oliver mulled that over for a moment. "We need to get well away, out of Metropolis if we can. I wish that girl hadn't managed to fry my comm link with the League." I wasn't sure what he meant, but didn't ask. "But there's one possibility we can try - we'll need to find a working phone booth first. Tell someone that you'll be heading further south, that you'll meet them as soon as they can get here at the Hobb's bay bus station."
"Okay," I agreed. "And where do we actually go from here."
"I'll tell you after we ditch the phone. Just to be safe."
I groaned softly and headed down the hallway to look for the fool thing.
TO BE CONTINUED...
But I've been having so much fun with this concept! I don't really want it to be over so soon.