Cure: Chapter Five (5/?)
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Summary: Chloe is trying to find a doctor to help her with her meteor infection and a playboy-like Oliver Queen is trying to find a a physician for his Green Arrow wounds. They begin a sexual relationship, which becomes a problem once Ollie's softer side develops.
Chapter Five
Oliver watched Emil working away in his office, flipping through a file as he sat down at the chair across from him. He pulled out one of the Styrofoam cups, and placed it on the file that Emil was working on before taking a sip from his own cup.
"How morally wrong would it be if I slept with one of your patients?" He asked, cutting right to the chase.
"It wasn't the 78 year old Alzheimer's patient you saw me with a couple of weeks ago, is it? Because then, we have to discuss your coming out party on top of the normal old morality issues."
Oliver rolled his eyes. "Very funny. It was Chloe Sullivan."
"The woman with tremors?"
The tremors? That's what he remembered?
"The woman with the amazing breasts", he corrected.
"You need to be careful", Emil said, reaching for another file and opening it up. "Meteor patients aren't exactly ideal for your usual escape act." He picked up his pen and flipped up a page. "On the other hand, you could just zip-line off of the roof, couldn't you?"
"I don't know, man. I think you might be wrong about her. She's a lot tougher than she looks. Won't hesitate to kick a guy in the balls."
"Before, after, or during?"
Oliver drank from the coffee cup as he thought of when on earth Chloe Sullivan would kick him in the balls during sex. He couldn't remember if she took off her shoes at all in that hotel room. He cringed at the thought of those heels, sexy as they were, damaging his boys.
"The day we met her, in the parking lot on my way out. So before", he answered.
"And you still went after her? Sure you don't have more stitches that I should examine? In your head, perhaps?"
"That's very funny", Oliver said, "See, it's weird. I wasn't really offended when she did that. Just in pain. I wasn't even too bothered when she tried to take the lead during sex, I just remedied the situation"
"-I know that I'm your primary physician, but still, too much."
Oliver didn't pay attention, just kept going. "It's not so much that she left my ass at the hotel right after it was over, it's the fact that she called me Danny on the way out. What the hell is up with that?"
Emil tossed the file to the side in silence and looked up at Oliver, examining him closely before taking a long drink from his coffee cup and setting it down.
He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair slightly. "She really got to you."
"No she didn't", Oliver said automatically. "I just don't get it, that's all."
"Because it's never happened before."
"What?" Oliver asked
Emil pointed the pen at him. "She rejected you. That's why it bothers you. You're going to try and find her again, aren't you?"
Oliver didn't say anything. Because he really wanted to find her, wanted to throw her onto his bed and make her scream his name over and over again. It was probably the only way that he would right this horrible wrong.
It was really a crime that she had forgotten his name.
"Of course you are", Emil answered his own question. "I know that we agreed not to judge each other's social lives, and this isn't judging per se, but I feel like I need to warn you."
"What, is she going to try and kill me as well as take her anger out on my nuts? Cause I'll wear a bulletproof vest and a cup. Problem solved."
"She seems a little bit...textbook."
"How so?" Oliver asked
"She has this remarkable ability that is probably unique to just her. And by her behavior in the exam room the other day, the two of us are most likely the only people in the world who know about it. Even if she's the most sociable person in the world and has people who love and care about her, she's kept this private."
"You think that I'm going to crack her open and leave her", Oliver finished.
Emil nodded. "If you do, it'll destroy her. Don't."
Oliver wanted to be diplomatic about what to say next. But even though he spent his life lying, he didn't want to lie to Emil.
Truthfully, he was just willing to do whatever it took to get the stupid thought out of his head that maybe he should have been more chivalrous in bed.
If he didn't plan on carrying her over to the bed or cuddling after, then he certainly didn't have any plans on cracking open the shell and letting those messy emotions fall out.
Imagine a rotten egg. Does anyone really want that shell to crack? Stinks up the whole room.
"I think that she's stronger than you give her credit for. And that you overestimate me. I probably won't crack her open."
"If you're sure", Emil said before the phone went off.
"Dr. Emil, your 3:00 is here."
Emil pressed a button. "Thank you." He turned back to Oliver. "I've got to go", he said before standing up.
"Just make sure you know what you're doing."
***
Oliver was searching through the Human Resources files in the basement of the Daily Planet in his gear, wondering if this was somewhere in the stalking area. He tried to get an address from Chloe's phone number, but when he called, all he got was a tired voice on the phone, insisting that there was no Chloe Sullivan living in Metropolis.
He knew that this was an impossibility. And even though he wanted to charm the pants off of the annoying receptionist at the clinic again to get an address, he knew that he would only get a mouthful for standing her up a couple of nights ago.
He was almost disappointed in himself for respecting Emil too much to break into his doctor friend's records, but only because this night was a bit too much. Not only did he nearly get shot at, helping a little boy who was getting mugged in the middle of the night (where the kid's parents were, Oliver had no idea) on his way over here, but he landed on the roof of the Daily Planet, absolutely clueless to how he was going to get in without someone spotting him.
He deactivated all of the security cameras with a handy device that he switched on. And Oliver got down to the basement by zipping down the stairwell. All he needed to do now was find the last name.
Strouse, Suderman, Sturkey. God, he knew what he was getting for A. Sturkey for thanksgiving. C. Sullivan.
There it was. Oliver pulled out the file and saw the first page.
Instead of finding a real address, he found the address of some place called the Talon in Smallville.
Chick lied on her human resources form. So much for finding her. Oliver doubted that there was even such a place as Smallville, Kansas. These people obviously didn't know her at all- she didn't look like the type from hillbilly land, Kansas. At least, she didn't have a weird accent.
Oliver couldn't imagine her making homemade jam. But he could imagine her wearing stilettos and an apron. And nothing else.
He took a picture of the address with his sunglasses just for kicks, and put the file back in the cabinet, pushing it shut and heading on out.
He walked out of the dusty room and was about to head back over to the stairwell where he fully planned on riding his own personal elevator up the stairs and getting back to his apartment when he saw one of the computers with the screensaver still on.
By the looks of the rest of the computers, the reporters were fairly religious about shutting down their computers, or at least turning the screens off. But this one still had the screensaver running. Curious.
Oliver crept over to the computer and was about to shut it off when he saw that there was someone still sitting at the desk. He peered at the head resting on the stack of pages and spotted the familiar blonde that he had been looking for.
He looked at the rough draft. It was titled The Aftermath of Dark Thursday, and it read well. There was a little note that she had jotted down on the post-it. Oliver examined it: no satellite pictures found. It was in capital letters and underlined angrily.
He was about to read more of her notes when a screen lit up on the desk. Her cell phone was on silent, but the light might do enough to wake her up. He stepped back from her desk and turned around, diving head first down the stairwell, pulling out an arrow and turning around, shooting the zip-line directly at the ceiling before it latched on, the rope pulling him directly upwards, left arm holding on before reaching the top.
He pressed a button, releasing the cable as he started falling down, landing on his feet in front of the door to the roof, pulling the door open and switching off the camera bug that he activated earlier before disappearing completely.
***
He carried huge bags in both arms as he pulled open the door and walked up to the counter, setting them down on a nearby table.
He ran a Google search of the Talon when he got back to his apartment, and was surprised to see that it was a real place. The Talon was some sort of coffee shop, and Smallville was an honest to goodness town.
Seriously, who names these things?
He looked up at the barista. Oh, good. It was a woman. No use going to the guy in the back. He'd just look at him funny, steaming milk in the corner. Unless the guy was gay, but since Oliver wasn’t, it would just cause problems.
"Hi", he started, giving her a wide smile. "This is going to sound incredibly stupid, but does a woman named Chloe Sullivan live here?"
The woman smiled. "Not a stupid question. Her apartment's just up the stairs. And your timing's good too. She went up ten minutes ago."
"She doesn't have a roommate, does she?" He asked
"Not at the moment."
Oh, thank god. "Thanks so much." He picked up the bags and headed up the stairs, pausing just for a moment before knocking.
No answer.
He knocked again.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming", a voice grumbled.
She opened the door in a robe and gave him a shocked expression. "What are you doing here?" she asked
"Hungry?" He asked
For a split second, he thought that she was going to yell at him, or at the very least, make him explain. But she just opened the door, gave him a small smile, and said, "Come on in."
"Now, I wasn't sure about any allergies or preferences", he said, planting the bags down. "So I got a little bit of everything."
He was just waiting on her to use his name. And she must have known, because she didn't use it. She just shut the door and locked it, walked over to the kitchen, and pulled out some plates.
"Define everything", she said, closing the cabinet door.
She was wearing a robe.
"Food from around the world", he said, pulling out some dishes and setting them down. "Italian", he started, pulling open a dish to reveal some fried calamari. "Chinese", he said, pulling out cartons. "Thai", he set down another dish. "Swedish, if you're into that kind of thing", he said, pulling out some pea soup. "Armenian, just for kicks", he continued, pulling out some grape leaves, "And French as a final touch", he finished, pulling out some éclairs.
"No need to pull out the big guns", she said, picking up a carton of Chinese food and opening it. "We've already slept together, you know."
"Yeah, well, I'm hungry", he said, munching on some calamari. "Sight-seeing takes a lot out of a person, you know."
She stopped for a second. "So instead of touring the city, you figured that you would take a look at Smallville?"
"I saw Grandville too", he told her, even if he really did just drive past it. "Strangely, I don't see the hype."
"Well then, you'll be happy to know that this town lives up to its name."
He wanted her to say his name, even if it was to prove that she remembered him. That she didn't just let any person into her apartment.
"I don't know", he said. "I'm new. Could get lost without a tour guide."
"I'm sure you'll do just fine", she said, giving him a small pat on the leg.
All he had to do was give her robe a little tug and there would be nothing there.
He cleared his throat a little bit. "I almost forgot", he said, reaching for his briefcase and pulling out an envelope and handing it to her.
She looked at him curiously. "Property of Queen Industries." She read before opening it and pulling out the pages and flipping through them.
She still didn't say his name. Last name, yes. But for all he knew, she thought that his name was Danny Queen.
And really, what kind of a name was that?
"These are satellite images from Dark Thursday." She looked up at him. "How did you get these?"
"You said that you have real work to do. Figured this would be it." He took the images away. "If I was wrong, then I apologize."
He was about to put the pictures back in the envelope.
"No!" she stopped him. "You weren't wrong, it's just that..."
He smiled triumphantly and handed the envelope back to her. "Just what?"
"I don't want you to do me any favors."
"Are there any other reporters covering the story?" He asked "Want me to print images for them? Because I can, if it would make it fair."
She shook her head. "No, right now, it's just me. As a test run. But I don't want the images if it's just a perk to sleeping with you."
"I get the feeling that you would be able to write a hard-hitting piece even without the images", he said. But for some reason, it just didn't feel like some line to him.
He didn't know if it was her own insecurity or if it was because the line worked really well. But it had to be something to explain what she said next. "You know, I'm kind of glad that we're in the kitchen and not eating on the bed."
She stood up and walked over to him, pushing the dish away from him and putting one leg on either side of him. She sat down, put a hand around his neck, and pulled him in for a kiss.
He was surprised that she was forcing her tongue in his mouth so quickly. Strange- that was usually his job when it came to women.
"I don't know", he said as smoothly as he could muster. "I think it would be the only way to have sex in different countries at the same time."
He kissed her back forcefully, trying to state some sort of sense of power between the two of them, fingers playing with the knot on her robe as the fabric slipped a little bit. He pulled back when he felt lace.
Black lace. Oh, hello.
"How about I get this shirt off of you", she said, as he felt her rotating her hips in his lap slowly, grabbing the bottom of his top, "And maybe these jeans", she made a circle again. "And I'll play catch up?"
"Oh, well", he said, trying to make clear thoughts happen. What was going on with him? This wasn't his first time having sex, and it wasn't his first time with her either. "Whatever makes you comfortable."
She gently took a hold of his wrists and brought his arms upward before pulling his shirt up and throwing it on the ground. "We might have to go somewhere else to get these off", she said, trailing a hand down his chest and resting it right above the button of his pants.
“In that case”, he breathed before placing a hand on her ass firmly and lifting her up off of the ground as he stood up. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and kissed him for a second before he pulled away.
Oliver looked around the apartment, trying to give himself some sort of refresher course on where the beds were. He swore he just saw them.
It was when he saw two beds that the confusion started. He thought that she didn’t have a roommate. “So, should I be expecting visitors in the future, or can I look forward to you greeting me in a robe?”
She looked over her shoulder to where the bed was made, and took a little breath. “Well, since I was about to change my clothes to go eat when you showed up, that would be a no.” She kissed him again, trying to distract him.
But he wasn’t going to go for it again. This was the same woman who called him Danny, and damn it, it ends now! It was time for him to take control.
“Chloe, do you have a roommate?” he asked
“My…friend”, she started, “doesn’t live here anymore. Moved in with someone, but I keep her sheets around in case she decides to crash one day.”
He shrugged and redirected her to the other bed, bringing her down. He could have sworn that he saw a flicker of sadness in her eyes before her head shook a little bit. “Right”, she let out a breath, focusing on removing his pants before turning back to him. “Said I’d play catch-up, didn’t I?”
She put a hand on her robe, about to unfasten it, when Oliver stopped her. “Let me”, he said, undoing to knot with one hand and parting the fabric, watching Chloe’s body revealing itself to him slowly at first, and then faster as he got impatient and removed the fabric before throwing it to the other side of the room.
Before this moment, he would have sworn up and down that it was solely a breast appreciator, but now he wasn’t sure. Because as he was unfastening her bra clasp with one hand, he could stop thinking about how hard she had gotten him on the way to the bedroom when his hand was on her ass.
She grabbed his hands and placed them around the sides of her panties before putting her own hands on the elastic of his boxers. “Just to be fair”, she said before fixing it so that they were both naked at the same time.
“Now, I forget”, he said as he pushed her down and got on top of her. “How would we settle a tie?”
He was anxious- anxious enough for the condom to pull on and for him to slip inside of her before she could even blink. If she didn’t want foreplay, then that was fine with him for now. It only meant that he needed to make sure that the finale was acceptable.
He didn’t wait for her to adjust to his length this time. He heard her gasp at the contact, but it wasn’t good enough for him. He was on a mission now. He thrust into her roughly, biting back the moan before it escaped from his lips.
There wasn’t a woman alive who believed that they could experience sex in quite the same way once he was through with them. He left them- that was how it worked. They didn’t forget his name, and he wasn’t going to let that start now.
He continued to move in and out of her, up until he felt that she was about to reach her climax. It was difficult for him to stop, but Oliver took a deep breath, and remained completely still, hands holding her down so that she couldn’t take initiative and finish the job.
“What are you doing?” She asked
“What’s my name, Chloe?”
“What?”
He licked his lips and stared in her eyes as fiercely as he could muster. “What is my name?”
“Sure, like you could forget. Really funny”, she said, pushing her body upwards and kissing him.
He pulled away. “I’m not kidding. I can stay here for hours”, he said, kissing her neck and travelling downwards, stopping at one of her breasts. “The question is, can you?”
He fit the breast in his mouth, and started making wide circles with the tip of his tongue, narrowing the circles to the target of her areola.
It didn’t matter if it was a target or a woman, he was going to make sure that he reached his goal.
“This”, she said before letting out a shudder. “Shouldn’t be…personal.”
He withdrew his mouth before his tongue could strike the areola.
So much for not wanting foreplay. She wasn’t pushing him away this time. Maybe she was too distracted.
This was ridiculous. How difficult was it for someone to say his name? He was giving himself blue-balls here. And seriously bordering on his actual capability to stay perfectly still inside of her.
“More like a common courtesy. And I’m telling you this as a person who has probably had more sex than you. It’s in the rule book.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “What makes you say that?”
“I haven’t seen you at the club meetings”, he joked. “Chloe”, he added before turning his attention to the other breast, repeating the process.
“It’ll get complicated.” Her breath was hitched. Good, she was as frustrated as he was.
He trailed his index finger down her body and lightly brushed it against her clit and bringing the finger back up before she could. “But less frustrating. Trust me, I have never felt compelled to go down on one knee.”
“Ollie, can we please not have this conversation right now?” she grumbled
Ollie. And there it was.
Thank God.
He pulled out of her almost entirely before driving back in. “Who am I?” He asked as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
Even though she had screamed his name out loud and he felt a sense of accomplishment in that, Oliver couldn’t help from wondering if he knew the answer to that question himself.