Recovery and Anticipation 14/? (Part 2)
A/N: Sorry about the abrupt cut in CH. I was given that message that I hate, 'post too large,' UGH
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“Oliver,” Chloe started. She was looking at him in an odd way.
“No, Chloe, let me talk,” he interrupted harshly, “I'm asking you to have mercy on me and tell me what that fuckin’ bastard did to you because what I'm imagining is pretty hideous.”
She snapped free from his grasp.
"He exposed himself, OK," she shouted, thrusting both hands in the air angrily, "he exposed himself and he touched himself and he jerked off."
Her voice was shaking so bad that she had to stop and take a deep breath.
Oliver backed away as If she had just kicked him in the gut.
"Chloe, Jesus, I'm so sorry," Oliver said, working hard to keep his voice level. He should have been there. He couldn't even kill Knox, Peter had been the one to defeat him. He had failed Chloe miserably. No wonder she wanted to leave. He could taste bile in his throat and he realized that he was close to throwing up, "sick fuck," he cursed under his breath, turning away from her and blinking back tears.
"There, now you know," she said, her voice emotionless, "and so do you," she said, turning to the silent Peter, "now we can all just move on and go about our lives. Is that what you wanted from me,” she asked accusingly, her eyes misting again.
Oliver shook his head, finding it hard to speak. “What I want is for you to stay right here, with me. I don't want you to go."
Oliver felt as if his heart were being ripped from his chest and it was all he could do not to drop himself at Chloe’s feet and beg.
“What’s next,” Chloe asked with a limp shrug. Her voice was defeated, her features crestfallen, “Am I going to find out that Lois is dead? Or worse, am I going to read about it in the paper?”
“No,” Oliver stated, his voice strong and convincing, “you won’t, I promise.” And even if it meant summoning the legion and traveling hundreds of years into the future, he would do it if it meant keeping his promise to her.
“What is there now,” Chloe asked again, as if she were having a silent conversation with herself.
“There’s the here and now,” Oliver said quickly, grabbing her by the arms once again and pulling her closer to him, “C’mon Chloe, look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t have feelings for me. Look at me,” Oliver insisted when she looked away.
“You know I do,” Chloe admitted quietly, gazing at a spot above his shoulder.
“Then,” Oliver said with a gentle shake, “is that not good enough? Is that not something to look forward to?” Because it was something for him…
“It’s not enough,” Chloe protested, “it won’t work out.”
“Why not?” It had to work out because he wouldn’t allow it not to.
“Because,” Chloe huffed angrily, “good things just don’t happen to me. You know that,” she said, shoving at him angrily. Her fingers jabbed forcefully against his chest and he winced slightly from the unfortunate truth of her words.
“And that isn’t going to go away because you have a crush on me,” she added.
“It’s not a crush,” Oliver said tightly. A crush was something school kids got. What he had was maddening and passionate and chest tightening, he was so in love with his Watchtower that he would willingly let her go if it meant her happiness. Except that there was just the tiniest hint, the tiniest hope, that he might be her happiness.
“Chloe,” he took a step towards her, watching as she flattened herself against the wall. He placed both hands against either side of her head and leaned in slowly.
“Oliver, if you’re going to kiss me just do it,” she said impatiently. He noticed that the anger was suddenly gone from her face and had been replaced by something dark and lustful. Those green eyes were too open and honest to lie. She wanted him. If nothing else she wanted him and that was good enough for him.
“Do you want me to kiss you,” he asked, his voice a long drawl.
“What I want,” Chloe stammered, “is a good memory. I want to close my eyes and remember your lips on mine, the way they were at the Kent farm.”
“I want good memories too,” Oliver groaned and leaned in closer.
Chloe’s lips parted in welcome. A soft sigh escaped her lips.
The trance between the both of them was so strong that they were both unaware that Peter was watching them with genuine interest, maybe even amusement. They were also unaware when Bart and Claire arrived, sweeping into the penthouse with mischievous grins.
“I have Blueberry chocolate from Cape Cod,” Bart announced cheerfully as he walked into the penthouse, followed by the petite Claire. And then, noticing Chloe pinned against the wall, he pushed past Oliver and rushed towards Chloe, twirling her around, “Chloelicious,” he exclaimed, enveloping her in a bear hug.
"Perfect timing as usual," Oliver mumbled under his breath feeling shaken by the loss of Chloe’s heat. Her breath still lingered on his lips and Oliver struggled to hold on to that feeling.
"You were in Cape Cod," Peter exclaimed, "Claire, I told you to stay in Metropolis."
Claire waved away her Uncle’s delayed reaction with a flick of her wrist, "It was in and out, excuse the Freudian slip," she said, her grin widening as she caught sight of Chloe. Peter glowered, Oliver scowled and Bart continued to hug Chloe until she managed to pull herself free.
"It's good to see you too, Bart," she said, managing to give him a bright smile.
Oliver couldn’t help but notice that Chloe wasn’t looking at him purposefully.
He locked his jaw tightly and crossed his arms over his chest. Maybe if he cleared his throat loud enough she would acknowledge him.
He cleared his throat.
Nope.
She just continued to ignore him.
He went to grab her by the elbow but she sidestepped him easily. The look she gave him warned, not now.
Not now? As in, don’t kiss me now? But maybe later?
Yes! Because if kissing her at Boy Scout’s house had been a mistake then trying to kiss her now, in his home, in front of Peter, after what she had just confessed to him, he shuddered, was a mistake times a thousand.
But she had wanted it. He had seen that in her face. She had pleaded for him to kiss her, maybe in an effort to help her forget. Give me a good memory, she had beckoned. Who could resist that? Hell if he could!
He opened his mouth to say something and closed it again. He wouldn’t give Chloe the satisfaction of another confrontation. He wouldn’t plead for her either. Who was he kidding? He was Oliver Queen… handsome, rich, charming and so desperately in love with Chloe Sullivan that he was willing to grovel at her feet in front of Bart, Claire and Peter. He shook his head shamefully, casting a quick look in Chloe’s direction to see if she had caught anything.
Of course she hadn’t.
He stood up straighter and made his way to the bar. He needed a strong drink.
When Chloe announced that she was leaving a second time Oliver didn’t make an attempt to stop her. He was on his third glass of whiskey and with not having eaten anything since Chloe’s death, the alcohol had overpowered his system immediately. Besides, with Tess in the hospital Chloe was no longer in any immediate danger, he reminded himself. She could handle the paparazzi.
She’d be in more danger if she stayed with him because Oliver wasn’t so sure that he could keep away from her for much longer.
*****
“Wait up, will you!”
It was Peter who’d come after her, not Oliver, Chloe realized in blunt disappointment. She might have expected Bart or maybe Claire but definitely not Peter. They hadn’t even exchanged more than a couple of words, although he had been there when she had confessed to Oliver how Dr. Knox had accosted her. So maybe he was feeling sorry for her and wanted to buy her a cup of coffee. Or worse, maybe Oliver had sent him after her.
Chloe spun around and gave him a questioning look. She was quick to hide her disappointment.
“What is it,” she asked once he had caught up to her.
He wasn’t even out of breath, she noted, even though she sure was.
“Listen,” he said, “Claire gave me a run through of what has been going on with your cousin and everything.”
He waited for her response. She nodded for him to continue.
“I think I might be able to help you with the Lois situation.”
_____________
“Oliver,” Chloe started. She was looking at him in an odd way.
“No, Chloe, let me talk,” he interrupted harshly, “I'm asking you to have mercy on me and tell me what that fuckin’ bastard did to you because what I'm imagining is pretty hideous.”
She snapped free from his grasp.
"He exposed himself, OK," she shouted, thrusting both hands in the air angrily, "he exposed himself and he touched himself and he jerked off."
Her voice was shaking so bad that she had to stop and take a deep breath.
Oliver backed away as If she had just kicked him in the gut.
"Chloe, Jesus, I'm so sorry," Oliver said, working hard to keep his voice level. He should have been there. He couldn't even kill Knox, Peter had been the one to defeat him. He had failed Chloe miserably. No wonder she wanted to leave. He could taste bile in his throat and he realized that he was close to throwing up, "sick fuck," he cursed under his breath, turning away from her and blinking back tears.
"There, now you know," she said, her voice emotionless, "and so do you," she said, turning to the silent Peter, "now we can all just move on and go about our lives. Is that what you wanted from me,” she asked accusingly, her eyes misting again.
Oliver shook his head, finding it hard to speak. “What I want is for you to stay right here, with me. I don't want you to go."
Oliver felt as if his heart were being ripped from his chest and it was all he could do not to drop himself at Chloe’s feet and beg.
“What’s next,” Chloe asked with a limp shrug. Her voice was defeated, her features crestfallen, “Am I going to find out that Lois is dead? Or worse, am I going to read about it in the paper?”
“No,” Oliver stated, his voice strong and convincing, “you won’t, I promise.” And even if it meant summoning the legion and traveling hundreds of years into the future, he would do it if it meant keeping his promise to her.
“What is there now,” Chloe asked again, as if she were having a silent conversation with herself.
“There’s the here and now,” Oliver said quickly, grabbing her by the arms once again and pulling her closer to him, “C’mon Chloe, look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t have feelings for me. Look at me,” Oliver insisted when she looked away.
“You know I do,” Chloe admitted quietly, gazing at a spot above his shoulder.
“Then,” Oliver said with a gentle shake, “is that not good enough? Is that not something to look forward to?” Because it was something for him…
“It’s not enough,” Chloe protested, “it won’t work out.”
“Why not?” It had to work out because he wouldn’t allow it not to.
“Because,” Chloe huffed angrily, “good things just don’t happen to me. You know that,” she said, shoving at him angrily. Her fingers jabbed forcefully against his chest and he winced slightly from the unfortunate truth of her words.
“And that isn’t going to go away because you have a crush on me,” she added.
“It’s not a crush,” Oliver said tightly. A crush was something school kids got. What he had was maddening and passionate and chest tightening, he was so in love with his Watchtower that he would willingly let her go if it meant her happiness. Except that there was just the tiniest hint, the tiniest hope, that he might be her happiness.
“Chloe,” he took a step towards her, watching as she flattened herself against the wall. He placed both hands against either side of her head and leaned in slowly.
“Oliver, if you’re going to kiss me just do it,” she said impatiently. He noticed that the anger was suddenly gone from her face and had been replaced by something dark and lustful. Those green eyes were too open and honest to lie. She wanted him. If nothing else she wanted him and that was good enough for him.
“Do you want me to kiss you,” he asked, his voice a long drawl.
“What I want,” Chloe stammered, “is a good memory. I want to close my eyes and remember your lips on mine, the way they were at the Kent farm.”
“I want good memories too,” Oliver groaned and leaned in closer.
Chloe’s lips parted in welcome. A soft sigh escaped her lips.
The trance between the both of them was so strong that they were both unaware that Peter was watching them with genuine interest, maybe even amusement. They were also unaware when Bart and Claire arrived, sweeping into the penthouse with mischievous grins.
“I have Blueberry chocolate from Cape Cod,” Bart announced cheerfully as he walked into the penthouse, followed by the petite Claire. And then, noticing Chloe pinned against the wall, he pushed past Oliver and rushed towards Chloe, twirling her around, “Chloelicious,” he exclaimed, enveloping her in a bear hug.
"Perfect timing as usual," Oliver mumbled under his breath feeling shaken by the loss of Chloe’s heat. Her breath still lingered on his lips and Oliver struggled to hold on to that feeling.
"You were in Cape Cod," Peter exclaimed, "Claire, I told you to stay in Metropolis."
Claire waved away her Uncle’s delayed reaction with a flick of her wrist, "It was in and out, excuse the Freudian slip," she said, her grin widening as she caught sight of Chloe. Peter glowered, Oliver scowled and Bart continued to hug Chloe until she managed to pull herself free.
"It's good to see you too, Bart," she said, managing to give him a bright smile.
Oliver couldn’t help but notice that Chloe wasn’t looking at him purposefully.
He locked his jaw tightly and crossed his arms over his chest. Maybe if he cleared his throat loud enough she would acknowledge him.
He cleared his throat.
Nope.
She just continued to ignore him.
He went to grab her by the elbow but she sidestepped him easily. The look she gave him warned, not now.
Not now? As in, don’t kiss me now? But maybe later?
Yes! Because if kissing her at Boy Scout’s house had been a mistake then trying to kiss her now, in his home, in front of Peter, after what she had just confessed to him, he shuddered, was a mistake times a thousand.
But she had wanted it. He had seen that in her face. She had pleaded for him to kiss her, maybe in an effort to help her forget. Give me a good memory, she had beckoned. Who could resist that? Hell if he could!
He opened his mouth to say something and closed it again. He wouldn’t give Chloe the satisfaction of another confrontation. He wouldn’t plead for her either. Who was he kidding? He was Oliver Queen… handsome, rich, charming and so desperately in love with Chloe Sullivan that he was willing to grovel at her feet in front of Bart, Claire and Peter. He shook his head shamefully, casting a quick look in Chloe’s direction to see if she had caught anything.
Of course she hadn’t.
He stood up straighter and made his way to the bar. He needed a strong drink.
When Chloe announced that she was leaving a second time Oliver didn’t make an attempt to stop her. He was on his third glass of whiskey and with not having eaten anything since Chloe’s death, the alcohol had overpowered his system immediately. Besides, with Tess in the hospital Chloe was no longer in any immediate danger, he reminded himself. She could handle the paparazzi.
She’d be in more danger if she stayed with him because Oliver wasn’t so sure that he could keep away from her for much longer.
*****
“Wait up, will you!”
It was Peter who’d come after her, not Oliver, Chloe realized in blunt disappointment. She might have expected Bart or maybe Claire but definitely not Peter. They hadn’t even exchanged more than a couple of words, although he had been there when she had confessed to Oliver how Dr. Knox had accosted her. So maybe he was feeling sorry for her and wanted to buy her a cup of coffee. Or worse, maybe Oliver had sent him after her.
Chloe spun around and gave him a questioning look. She was quick to hide her disappointment.
“What is it,” she asked once he had caught up to her.
He wasn’t even out of breath, she noted, even though she sure was.
“Listen,” he said, “Claire gave me a run through of what has been going on with your cousin and everything.”
He waited for her response. She nodded for him to continue.
“I think I might be able to help you with the Lois situation.”