Good Fences - Chapter Five
Today, Oliver gets his CEO groove on... I do love a man in a suit.
Chapter Five
The change in Oliver as the elevator rose was subtle. Oliver was always so… Oliver. He was confidence and swagger, always fearless, yet charming with a definite twinkle in his eye. Even when he was suited up as Green Arrow, he was still pretty much Oliver with a voice modulator, just more edge to him, a forewarning of danger behind the humor that he used like armor.
Now she saw him changing again. The confidence was still there, but it was a more serious Oliver who emerged from the elevator. There was no danger, but much of the playfulness was gone and she supposed this was his business face.
When the elevator opened there was a corridor full of people waiting for them. Every head turned, every worried, expectant face looking to Oliver for answers even though he had only just arrived. Several of them cast speculative glances in her direction, but then were right back to Oliver.
"All right, people," Oliver said loudly, even though he already had their attention. "I need Joseph, David, Joan and Mark in my office. Wes," he pointed to a middle-aged man on his left, "I need you to contact our security specialists. Meg, coordinate with Wes. Your people will probably be the most vulnerable. I don't care what it costs. I want everyone covered from level eight up, twenty-four hours a day until this is resolved. That includes everyone's families. I don't want someone's kid getting snatched because that's all these people can get to."
Oliver stopped and let his gaze pass over the small crowd. "The rest of you, I want back at your desks, business as usual. I need Debra's projects covered until we get her back. Mike, you coordinate that." His expression became stern. "I want a total media blackout on this. If Debra gets hurt because someone couldn't keep their mouth shut, that person will have to deal with me. Is that understood?"
There was a series of nods from everyone, as well as a chorus of, "Yes, sir" from several of them.
"Good." Oliver then strode into his office as if he hadn't been nearly cut to pieces the night before. Honestly, Chloe didn't know how he was still standing. She also had to wonder how often his top management had seen Oliver in this state. It couldn't be the first time Oliver had been forced to work injured. He was only human and his night job wasn't exactly easy.
The people Oliver had designated were following him into his office by the time Chloe realized she was being left behind and she hustled into the office after them. By then, she saw that Oliver was already behind his desk. He sat down heavily and promptly lost most of the color he'd gained during his rally-the-troops speech. She saw the muscles in his jaw clench, and mentally kicked herself for not finding him some sort of pain medication before they'd embarked on this little venture. She didn't know how long what they'd given him at the hospital would last.
"Do we have video of the kidnapping?" Oliver asked.
"Yes, sir," one of the men said, a younger executive wearing an expensive suit. Not as expensive as what Oliver was wearing, but definitely not off the rack from Penney's. "Everything we have should have been e-mailed to you."
"Chloe?"
She startled at being singled out, and then flushed as every single eye in the room zeroed in on her. She really needed to get out more. She was losing the knack of dealing with people in person. These days, human contact was a little disconcerting, especially when the contact was served up, as in this case, with a definite side of anger and suspicion.
Oliver waved her closer, then again for her to come around his desk when she stopped too far away. "Pull up what they've sent. See if you can find anything that will help us."
She nodded and pulled out her touchpad, quickly hacking Oliver's account and pulling up the files. She set Watchtower to work, running facial recognition software, then setting it to track the vehicle that had been used to kidnap the woman using traffic cams, security footage, etc.
"Mr. Queen?"
Chloe looked up to see one of the other execs watching her. He was an older man, balding, more sure of himself than the younger man, or at least he was a great believer in his own importance.
"Yes?"
"May we ask who this person is?" He definitely managed to make it sound insulting.
"I have a team on the ground that specializes in corporate kidnappings. This person is an information specialist who has worked with them before. She will liaise with them, passing on anything pertinent that will help them. She came highly qualified and highly recommended. Is that all right with you, Mark?" Oliver's tone was light, but there was steel behind it, and the other man quickly understood that his boss was not in the mood and not happy at being questioned.
"Of course," he said quickly.
"Good." Oliver's eyes swept over the small group. "Now who wants to tell me why the security protocols we already put in place weren't followed?"
The group of people shuffled, and Chloe had the distinct feeling she was looking at a bunch of kids who'd been called into the principal's office. Several glances passed between them, followed by more shuffling and some throat clearing.
"I'm waiting," Oliver snapped. "Because I distinctly remember our agreeing that until we had this situation handled, no one, and I mean no one was supposed to be alone. Why wasn't Debra met at the airport? Security should have been waiting at the gate. She was specifically threatened before."
That got Chloe's attention. Oliver had given her a thumbnail sketch of what had been happening, but she wondered just how long Oliver had been dealing with this and not told her.
"It's my fault, Mr. Queen."
Oliver's steely gaze turned on the remaining male exec. "What happened?"
The man, a dark-haired thirty-something suit cleared his throat nervously. "Our meeting went long, and Debra's flight was changed. I was supposed to notify the security people, and… and we just got our wires crossed."
Oliver rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. "Ok. This isn't helping." He sat back in his chair and shook his head. "Joan?"
"Yes, sir?" Joan was a graying blonde woman in her fifties, who looked like she took no guff from anyone. It was actually a bit odd to see someone like her calling Oliver "sir," but Chloe could tell that she seemed to respect him.
"Can you tell me whether Debra's trip was successful?"
"Yes, sir. The acquisition papers have been signed and turned over to legal. The preliminaries still look good and we believe we can make it viable within twelve months. My team will be ready to go in and start an evaluation next week. We hope to have recommendations for you the week after that."
Oliver nodded and then looked up at her, startling her yet again. "Anything?" he asked, and Chloe realized that despite the shop talk Oliver had never stopped concentrating on the most pressing matter which was his missing employee.
"Give me a few more minutes and I may." She had a definite route for the van the woman had been dragged into, but she hadn't tracked it to its destination yet.
"All right." Oliver stood up from his chair, covering the pain he was in by lowering his head and straightening his suit coat and tie. "The same rules go for you as for everyone else. Media blackout and no one tells the Feds, at least not until my team," he nodded toward Chloe, "has done its work. You focus on business as usual. I will handle this. Are we clear?"
Once again, he was met by a chorus of "yes, sir's." Oliver was so in his element, that Chloe was tempted to nod her agreement as well.
For a moment, Chloe simply looked at Oliver, and it was almost like looking at him for the first time. She was acquainted with Oliver, playboy billionaire. She knew Oliver, guilt-ridden, issue-laden, suicidal alcoholic. She knew Green Arrow and plain, confident Oliver who she dealt with day in and day out. Very rarely, she met Ollie, an orphaned boy who loved to play with toys and just wanted to make the planet safer for other children to grow up.
Looking at him now, however, standing behind his desk and speaking to his employees who were high-powered businesspeople in their own right, Chloe realized that she'd never actually seen this part of his life. He'd said she knew everything about him, but this man, Oliver Queen CEO, she'd never really taken the time to consider. She'd never appreciated the dedication and obvious business acumen it required to manage such an empire or the absolute power he wielded, and how naturally it seemed to come to him.
Oliver had been born into wealth and power, but this… No one had been there to teach him this. His father had been long dead when Oliver had taken the reins of Queen Industries. Time he should have spent learning the ropes, he had instead spent on a desert island just trying to stay alive. And yet here he was, completely at home, fully in charge of all he surveyed.
"Ok, guys. Go on," he said more gently. "If everything goes as planned we'll have Debra back before quitting time."
Chloe looked at the time on her computer. It was nearly quitting time already. It had been just after noon when she'd found Oliver and then they'd spent a few hours at the hospital. They'd barely been at the penthouse, however, before they'd been forced back into action. Now that she thought of it, Chloe's head was spinning at how quickly the situation had turned into this mess of an afternoon.
"It's going to be ok," he assured them again. "Just stick with the security protocols until this is over."
His team, looking properly chastened, quickly exited the room. Before the door had even closed behind them, he'd sat back down and picked up the phone. Chloe simply waited, watching him and watching her screen as Watchtower did its work.
After what seemed like several long moments, someone finally picked up the call on the other end and Oliver said, "Mr. Moretti, please. Tell him Oliver Queen is calling."
"Are you crazy?" Chloe hissed.
Oliver just grinned. "It's part of my charm."
"What's the other part?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Brilliance? Nerve? Superior planning?"
Chloe made a huffing noise, letting him know just what she thought of his charm. She was far more interested, however, to know what Oliver was actually up to. There was a definite twinkle in his eye.
Oliver straightened slightly and Chloe guessed someone had come on the line. She also saw Oliver flinch at the movement, and close his eyes briefly.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Moretti. This is Oliver Queen." He waited for a response, and Chloe saw his jaw clench in anger, although his tone was perfectly even when he responded. "I'm feeling fine. Thank you for asking." There was a pause and then he said, "I'm actually calling for a reason. I believe you have something that belongs to me." Once again, he listened for a few seconds, then said, "We should meet. In person. We have a few things we need to discuss." He nodded even though his opponent couldn't see him. "Yes, that's fine. I'll have my assistant make the arrangements."
After hanging up with Moretti and then spending several moments speaking with his assistant, Oliver set his phone down, and promptly wilted back against the chair. He looked tired, so, so tired, and part of Chloe wanted to go to him and soothe him somehow, assure him it would all be ok. Another part of her, the part of her that was in iron control of her actions, kept her firmly where she was. They were friends, colleagues. Coworkers didn't soothe, or even touch. Granted they didn't sleep together either. Chloe's job was to find the kidnapped woman. It wasn't to look after Oliver's welfare, not anymore than she did for the other members of the league. She certainly didn't feel like wrapping her arms around Victor, or Bart when they looked like the job was taking a toll on them.
"So what was that about?" Chloe demanded.
"I have a dinner date with Anthony Moretti."
"And?" Normal dinner time for the rich and shameless was only a few hours away.
"And we'd better have Debra back in safe hands by then or this plan is going to go south."
"What plan?"
Oliver looked at her straightly. "Do you have something or not? We're kind of under a time crunch here."
"Oliver, you can't…"
"Do you have something?" he said, his tone no-nonsense.
"Maybe," she said. "Probably." Oliver made a waving motion, telling her to go on. "I tracked the van they took her in. It went into a building not far from the airport. There are a couple of vehicles parked there now that are registered to one of the businesses Moretti's been linked to, but the van is gone."
"Does Moretti own the building?"
She shrugged. "It's a holding company, but give me some time I'm sure I could tie it to him."
"Don't bother. Just send the address to my phone." Oliver stood, bracing his hands on his desk. "Let's go."
"Go where?"
Oliver just walked around the desk, picking up his discarded cell phone from the table where he'd left it the night before. He led her into what proved to be an executive size washroom, complete with shower, dressing room and closet. Chloe was almost certain it was bigger than her apartment at the Talon. Oliver didn't pause, however. He walked straight to the back, flipped open a hidden panel and punched a series of numbers into a keypad.
A much larger panel in the wall slid open, revealing a small space that bore no resemblance to the sleek office they'd come from. This small space was serviceable, but Spartan, almost like a utility closet. To one side, there was a locker that appeared to be the twin of the locker Oliver had at Watchtower for a set of spare gear. On the other side she saw what looked to be a small elevator.
"Lex had it installed. I think it was so he could come and go with no one any the wiser."
"Or in case there was some sort of attack," Chloe suggested. "Paranoia is a mild word for what the Luthors were."
Oliver nodded at her assessment. "Maybe." He smirked. "Of course, I've had it modified a bit."
Chloe rolled her eyes. "Billionaires and their toys." She turned back to Oliver and realized that while she was distracted taking in Oliver's mini secret lair, Oliver had begun undressing. "What are you doing?"
"Here." Oliver handed her his phone. He groaned as he pulled off his shirt and threw it to one side, then reached for his belt. Chloe immediately placed her hands over his, the backs of her fingers pressed against his abdomen inside his waistband.
"Chloe, if you wanted to get in my pants-"
"Knock it off, Romeo," she ordered flatly. "If you think I'm about to let you go out there and get yourself killed-"
Oliver's eyes narrowed and he turned his hands, grasping hers and lifting them away. "Let me?" For a moment, she saw a dangerous glint in his eye, and had she been a lesser woman, she'd have backed away. It was a reminder, however, that this wasn't a boy she was dealing with. This was a man, and not one to be trifled with. He wasn't Jimmy who had still been a boy when he died, a boy finally coming into his own, but still a boy. Nor was he Clark with all of his insecurities, and worries. Oliver was a man who was confident of his place in the world.
"Chloe," he frowned, "I can do this job on my own. I was doing it long before you were ever Watchtower. I was going out every night, by myself. I don't have to have a guardian angel whispering in my ear at every turn. What do you think I've been doing this past week?"
Chloe's eyes widened. She hadn't considered that while she and Oliver were on the outs, he was still going out and patrolling. He just hadn't been speaking to her on the comms. He'd gone back to doing it how he'd done it for years before he even met her. He'd done it on his own, and for some reason that hurt as much as anything else.
He must have seen something on her face because his tone softened. "I like having my guardian angel, I do. But part of why we get along so well is that we're so much alike. You like being in control of what's going on. Well, guess what. So do I. I don't like being backed into a corner and I don't like being told what I can and cannot do. Call me a spoiled brat, but that's the way it is."
"So what does that mean?"
"It means this isn't the first time I've worked injured. My employee is in danger because of my choices and I am going to get her back, whether you are prepared to help me or not."
"You're right," she said, pursing her lips. Oliver raised an eyebrow. "You are a spoiled brat."
There was a pause and then abruptly, Oliver laughed. He followed that up by gasping loudly and doubling over.
Chloe immediately stepped up and put her arm around him, an electric shock of awareness zinging through her at the touch of his bare skin to hers. "Oliver," she whispered. "This is insane."
He shook his head. "Maybe. But also necessary."
Finally, Chloe came to a decision. She knew how much independence Oliver gave her, and she knew it was done purposely. He never pulled rank, even though he was definitely the leader who'd allowed her into his world. He recognized Watchtower as her domain, and let her run it how she saw fit, even thought he was the one pouring millions into it. He never crowded. Even now, with their arrangement, when many other men would have announced to the world that she was taken, or somehow marked their territory, Oliver hadn't. He let her march at her pace. He respected how she wanted what was going on between them to proceed. While he claimed he like being in control, in essence, he had allowed her to take the lead. He pressed sometimes, but as soon as she got uncomfortable, he backed off.
The only exception was this last little blip on their radar when he'd learned about the missing money. Then he'd pushed. Then he'd crowded. When he thought she'd betrayed his trust and the independence he'd given her. Yet, he'd accepted her explanation. She'd hurt him badly, and he'd forgiven her. It was why she was here with him now. She was the only one he trusted this close to him for something that wasn't a League-level disaster. He was trusting her with a personal disaster.
He respected her that much. She could do the same.
Chloe nodded, coming to a decision. "What do you want me to do?"
"I need to wrap my chest. I can do it myself, but it's easier with some help."
Chloe nodded, and waited while Oliver produced something from within the case. It wasn't an ace wrap, but it was something akin to it, only if Chloe had to guess, it was custom fitted to Oliver. Apparently, he'd worked hurt often enough that he'd had a support made.
Oliver pulled his normal sleeveless black t-shirt on over his bandaged chest, then let Chloe help him into the wrap that fit snuggly around his chest and even over his shoulders, offering sturdy support. The result looked like a cross between a tight, elastic wet suit and a thin bulletproof vest.
After that, she helped him pull on his leather pants, followed by his leather tunic. It was more awkward than it had been helping him dress in his apartment. Oliver's uniform was skin tight, and while she'd taken great pleasure in exploring his body on other occasions, this was different. Her mind wasn't clouded by lust. She was conscious of every single move she made, every touch, every brush of his skin against hers, his weight when he put a hand on her shoulder for balance.
Next she moved around him, helping him with his gear, and the tension between them seemed to grow higher and higher. For all the times that she'd been with Oliver, in his arms, in his bed, as physically close as it was possible for a man and a women to be, this was somehow more intimate. Sliding her hands around his waist, making sure everything was in place, weapons Oliver would need to keep him alive, weapons he had personally designed and that he'd never let anyone else near, let alone touch. She slid his gloved wrist guards over his hands, securing them carefully, his hand in hers, their breaths mingling as she stood so close.
Finally, Chloe stepped back and brought out a pair of his glasses and held them out to him. Rather than taking them, however, Oliver suddenly reached out, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her to him. He kissed her roughly, almost desperately, and Chloe was suddenly afraid, both at the intimacy and at the knowledge that Oliver was saying goodbye, just in case.
"Ollie," she said breathlessly when he'd pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, his arms still wrapped around her.
"Go to Watchtower." His voice was ragged. "I may need an eye in the sky."
"All right. But if you get in trouble, I'm calling Clark." She had to verbally place some distance between them, because as much as she wanted to, she couldn't seem to get any other kind of distance at the moment. She was too worried for him. It was hard to be confident, business-like Chloe when she was sending him out to get hurt again. "Don't think I won't call him."
"This is my shindig," he replied. "I'm not up to being lectured by Clark 'where's the party so I can poop on it' Kent."
Chloe mustered her courage, putting on her game face. She stepped back and once again handed him his glasses as well as his phone. "Be careful," she ordered. If he got in trouble, she would call Clark whether he liked it or not and they both knew it.
"Don't look so worried." He slipped the glasses on, pulled his hood up and grinned. If she hadn't known he was ready to keel over, she never would have guessed. "I have to get back in one piece." Oliver clicked on the voice modulator and headed for the secret elevator. "I've got a hot date tonight."
"You do?" Chloe couldn't help it. She wanted to grin. There was a reason Oliver never had trouble getting women. He was disgustingly charming.
Oliver's grin broadened. "My doctor says I'm injured. Pretty sure I need someone to kiss it. Make it all better."
The voice modulator lowered his voice, and it was enough to send a frisson of pleasure skittering across her skin. "And you think that someone is me?"
Chloe couldn't see his eyes behind the glasses, but suddenly she could feel every bit of his attention focused on her with laser-like precision. She'd never understood how one man could manage to seem perfectly normal one second and radiate sex the next. "I'll see you tonight, Sullivan," he said, and Chloe wasn't sure if it was a warning or a promise.
Then he was gone. The door on the little elevator closed and Chloe was suddenly alone. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
Heroes. They were all insane.
More soon…
Chapter Six