Inadvertent Flirting through Shakespeare
Title: Inadvertant Flirting through Shakespeare
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Chloe Sullivan/Oliver Queen (Chlollie)
Rating: G
Summary: Chloe spends the afternoon studying at Oliver's penthouse while he gets ready to leave for a misson back in Star City
Warning: AU
Disclaimer: I take ownership of nothing
A/N: A plot bunny attacked while my mind was on Shakespeare, and I spit out this one-shot. *sigh* I have no idea what this really is, but Chloe’s there and Oliver’s there, so that should be enough to suffice anyone. And as for Shakespeare’s explanation…I have no excuse…those chemicals from my lab internship must really be going to my head. Enjoy Reading.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even Act I Scene I of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Inadvertent Flirting through Shakespeare
Grimacing as the words before her blurred, Chloe tore her eyes away from the page she’d been reading for what felt like the umpteenth time. Suppressing the yawn that was about to escape, she turned her watery green eyes towards the tall man currently pacing around his penthouse apartment. “Your socks rolled under the couch two minutes ago,” she stated, dropping the side of her head into the palm of her hand and giving her shoulder length blonde hair a messing.
Pacing ceased, he stopped his frantic searches for that particular article of clothing and turned to face her. Hands stuffed into the pocket of his pants, he let out a snort. “Are you studying or keeping an eye on my things?”
With a frown gracing her lips, she shot him a withering stare. “Most people would be happy to know where their things are.” Lips twitching, Chloe watched as the side of his mouth curved upwards to give off that signature smile that held the ability to inadvertently melt her insides, a fact she’d never divulge.
“And as for the studying?”
Glancing down at the text in front of her, she abruptly turned a page before releasing a disgruntled sigh. “Male fairies are so passé.”
“Hey, Puck is a shrewd and knavish sprite called Robin Goodfellow.”
“Why does Shakespeare sound hot when it comes out of your mouth?”
Brows shooting to his hairline, Oliver couldn’t help the mild chuckle. “Okay, I think someone’s been studying too long.”
Frowning, Chloe nodded at her little slipup and covered her face from the humiliation that tainted her cheeks rosy. “Break,” she squeaked, “I need a break.”
“How about you switch to botany,” he offered, turning back to the task of packing. Lifting a tie, he carefully laid it across the crisp button downs he had just folded.
“No,” she muttered as she continually shook her head, “none of that xylem and phloem, I can’t take it anymore.”
“You know, Chloe, most people become frantic with a load of caffeine in their veins, you on the other hand…”
“My caffeine kick has depleted,” she added in sorrowful tones, glancing at the empty ceramic mug that still lingered with the aroma of her favorite beverage, “How about you make me some?”
Looking up at him through her wide green orbs, Oliver couldn’t help but be persuaded to take her up on her offer. There was something about the way she gazed back at him with that childish spark that had him giving in. “Just don’t overdo the cute.”
“I wasn’t aware that I held that capability.”
“You have a lot of potential, Sidekick. Why do you think I hired you?”
Brows wrinkling, she recapped her highlighter and dropped it into the crevice of her textbook as she thought back to Oliver’s offer of joining up with the League on a more permanent base. “I thought I came willingly.”
“Are you questioning your acceptance?” he asked with a fold of the arms, crooked smile still intact.
“Well now that I don’t know if I was coerced into this or not…” Chancing a glance at him, she watched how his chilled-out demeanor didn’t alter, and thus she frowned. Instead, Oliver kept up that stupid smile she loved so much. “Oh, of course I came willingly.”
“Thank you,” was all he said before bending down to retrieve the pair of socks he had originally been seeking.
“My coffee, Queen,” she reminded him sourly before turning back to the chore of studying Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Frowning, he stood up, glancing at her as he mumbled, “demanding.” However, Chloe was no longer paying attention to him, and instead had engrossed herself in silent reading. He smiled again, watching the way the sun streamed through the open terrace doors and captivated her face in a fresh glow. A cup of coffee would only give the setting a homier vibe, which was not what this once empty flat held. With the League, however, he felt at home now, and that included Chloe’s unprecedented visits. “Are you going to help me with that Black Creek facility?”
Instead of answering, she waved her hand.
Shaking his head, Oliver walked into the kitchen to brew her highness’s wish.
xoxoxox
Setting the cup of coffee beside her upon the tabletop scattered with textbooks and pages of notes, he peered over the blonde’s shoulders. Glancing at the page she had been reading, Oliver leaned towards her and whispered Lysander’s lines,
There, gentle, Hermia, may I marry thee; and to that place sharp Athenian law cannot pursue us. If thou lovest me then, steal forth my father’s house tomorrow night; and in the wood, a league without a town, where I did once meet Helena, to do the observance to morn of May, there will I stay for thee, (160-168).
Stiffening from the sudden closeness, Chloe felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up as his whispers of warm breath struck her ear. Just what was Oliver Queen playing at? “How much of this play do you have memorized?”
Chuckling, he stood up, taking his woodsy scent with him. “Why don’t you read the next line, and I’ll continue packing.”
Shifting her torso in the chair she had been ensconced in for the past two hours, Chloe glanced up at the tall blonde. There was something about the way his spiky blonde hair filled his head in an unruly mess that had her insides pleasantly squirming. There was something about the way his tie loosely dangled around his neck and the way the first few buttons of his shirt were undone that had her mentally gushing like a love stricken school girl. Exuding a breath, she released a mental laugh. She was nothing more than a school girl, a student of Metropolis University that had a bit too many secrets on her plate, so why would a handsome man with a hero complex see this girl as anything more than his low-key off the grid sidekick? “Just where are you going?” she asked, wondering what the League’s current mission entailed.
“From Athens is her house remote seven leagues; There, gentle, Hermia, may I marry thee.”
Face scrunching unpleasantly, she picked up the highlighter and threw it at him. “Projectile motion at its best,” Chloe uttered in her rage as the marker secured its target, “bull’s eye.”
“Funny,” he frowned, turning to head back to the chore of packing. Picking up a t-shirt, he stuffed it along the line of neatly folded clothes. “I’m heading to Star City. There’s a 33.1 facility there that has just popped up.”
“You’re going home?” she questioned, looking up from the text she had been reading as she absently reached for her cup of coffee. With a forlorn glance dancing across her usually cheery irises, Chloe thought about the city back in California: how the salty air would sting her nostrils, and how the pounding sun would tickle her face pleasantly. It beat sitting here and studying for something that seemed to pale in comparison to the world that was in need of saving.
“Home is where the heart is,” he mumbled the cheesy cliché.
“I’m guessing you need me to fill my Watchtower duties as you invade the warehouse.” Her eyes shot to the nearby wooden box where Oliver kept the com links that were used during League operations. He nodded absently, but Chloe couldn’t help but think there was more to it. “You know I can’t be out on the battlefront.” Sigh escaping, she thought back to the less than happy conversation she’d had with Clark about her role in the League.
“Thanks for the reminder, Professor.”
“Spring break is coming up,” she confessed, twisting so she was facing the littered mess on the desk once more.
“Shouldn’t you get the prize for altering conversations faster than a speeding bullet?”
“Now who’s being funny,” went her retort.
“What are you insinuating?” Oliver asked as he zipped up the suitcase he had finished packing. Turning to her in curiosity, he watched her for some sort of answer.
It was simple. Chloe wanted to go to Star City. She couldn’t raid the warehouse like her secret desires requested, but she could play nursemaid should anything go wrong. Besides, the warm weather and the sound of flapping seagull wings were becoming more tempting. A change in scenery might be nice for a week. Glancing down at the text, she looked up with an intake of breath before sliding off her chair. Walking towards him, she opened her mouth, releasing the lines as best as she could.
My good Lysander! I swear thee, by Cupid’s strongest arrow with the golden head, by the simplicity of Venus’ doves, by that which knitteth souls and prospers loves, and by fire which burn’d the Carthage queen, when false Troyan under sail was seen, by all vows that ever men have broke, in a number more than ever women spoke, in that place thou has appointed me, tomorrow truly will I meet thee, (168-178).
Brown eyes widening, he stared back at the girl standing before him with a stunned expression. “I guess you’re all prepared for your exam.”
“And come tomorrow I’m hopping on your private jet with a ticket to your hometown.”
“I never invited you.”
“But you want to, and I want to be there. I just reiterated that in Shakespeare.”
Reaching forward, he ruffled her hair. “You did good, Sidekick.”
“Sidekick, right,” she muttered, turning to head back to her bookish ways of hording information when he latched onto her wrist. Staring at the hand he had secured around her wrist, she gazed back at him in confusion.
“You mean more to me than a sidekick, Chloe, and I want you to know that. I also want you to come to Star City.”
Smiling, she flushed under his gaze, imagining Oliver in all his tanned glory as the League basked in the sun for a well deserved break. “In that place thou has appointed me, tomorrow truly will I meet thee,” she repeated.
Lifting her chin, he leaned towards her and planted a soft chaste kiss to her lips. “Keep promise, love.”