Of Love and Friendship - NC17 - Chloe/Oliver - Part Twenty-Three
Title: Of Love and Friendship
Category: Smallville
Genre: Friendship/Romance/Humor/Action/Drama
Ship: Chloe/Oliver
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 6,503
Summary: (AU) Chloe Sullivan grew up in Star City, California with high hopes of becoming a Pulitzer Prize winning reporter, but destiny has other plans. Finding a best friend in billionaire Oliver Queen, their lives intersect and take them on a journey neither of them ever expected.
Previous: Prologue, Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part XIV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII, Part XVIII, Part XIX, Part XX, Part XXI, Part XXII,
dhfreak
XXIII. Of Spa Days and Feminine Wiles
"Don't get me wrong, but I thought life was supposed to get easier after you accomplished something like this," Oliver argued, frowning as he sat perched in a chair across from her desk. While he was the epitome of calm, sprawled back with his hands in his lap, dressed down in a pair of casual jeans and an Excelsior sweater, his right ankle tossed over his left knee, she was in the center of a mess. The phone had been ringing non-stop, her desktop was covered in stacks of files, and she'd been typing wildly at her computer while simultaneously holding a conversation with him and answering the phone when the ringing began to irritate her.
"What? This doesn't look easy?" she snarked, rolling her eyes.
He half-smiled. "You worked your ass off for this… You think maybe you could take five minutes out to enjoy it?"
Her hands paused, poised above the keyboard, and she turned to stare at him. "So I won a Pulitzer, apparently that means more work, more opportunities, and very little time to breathe…" She shrugged. "Can't say I regret it."
"You've been working non-stop since you found out you won… I don't even think you've had time to rub it in Lois' face…" He grinned. "Hit the pause button, Chloe, or you'll run yourself into the ground."
She sighed, shoulders slumping. "I promise that as soon as this day ends, I will sleep away my entire Saturday and Sunday will be reserved solely for you. But I have to finish what's on my plate, all right?"
"It's overflowing! Isn't there anybody else who could investigate the…" He reached over, grabbed a random file and read the name, "Okay, so a follow-up on the security situation in Iraq and insurgent attacks on our troops is kind of big, but… I mean, Pluto's planet status coming into question? Somebody else has got to be around to write that one for you."
She chuckled under her breath, smiling. "Not all of these are mine. The best part of being a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist is that I get to pick which articles I want to write…" She smirked at him. "Especially since Jim thinks if he doesn't keep me happy, I'll run off to the DP at any second."
"All right, so delegate the whole load to, uh…" He looked around the room, spotted a bored-looking desk-sitter a few rows over and nodded at him. "That guy."
"Ollie…" she sighed, amused. "That's the copy-boy; he's just taking a coffee break."
He frowned. "At somebody's desk?"
"It's his older brother's. I don't think he'll mind."
"All right, where's his older brother then?" He looked around curiously. "Maybe he needs a week's worth of work."
She shook her head. "This argument is only going to prolong my day. I have a ton of writing to do, as you can see… And shouldn't you be off settling world issues with your billion-dollar smile and tech company?"
He shrugged. "Unlike you, I know how to delegate work to others. I have somebody on it."
She cocked a brow. "Really? So if I turn on the news right now, some little worker bee will be your spokesperson?"
His eyes darted to the side. "Not… exactly…"
Gaze narrowed, she pulled up a news channel online and typed in Queen Industries. Quickly, her expression melted. "You have Victor on television?" She shook her head incredulously. "How'd you convince him?"
"He wanted to!" Grinning, he leaned back in his seat. "He was adamant that we get computers and a web-cam school set up in a few friendly foreign countries and when I agreed, he said he wanted to be as big a part of it as he could get… So I made him the face of it."
"Literally," she murmured, smiling at her friend as he spoke strong and proud of the latest Queen program, providing schooling for children that once seemed out of reach. "Nice work… Maybe you can hang your Nobel Peace Prize next to my Pulitzer," she teased.
"This was all Victor, I'm just funding it."
"Not an easy feat to convince the board, I bet," she said thoughtfully.
He grinned. "Who said I liked doing anything the easy way?"
With a roll of her eyes, she closed the window. "Okay, okay, you've distracted me enough."
He pursed his lips. "Really? I thought I was just getting started…"
"Ollie…" she sighed, looking at him pleadingly. "I have the weekend off, all right? So that break you're pushing will be very much had… I just need to get this out of the way first."
With a loud and heavy sigh, he nodded, standing from his seat. "Fine… But if you think you're getting anywhere near your laptop this weekend, you're sadly mistaken, Sunshine." Grinning, he leaned across the desk to kiss her forehead sweetly. "Get all your typing in now, because as soon as your work day is over you're officially banned from journalism until Tuesday."
"Tuesday?" she repeated, eyes narrowing. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe Monday might object."
"Then he can take it up with my people," he returned, walking away from her desk, tossing a smile over his shoulder. "Long weekend, no arguments."
"Tell that to my boss!" she exclaimed after him.
He smirked. "I already did."
Sighing, she sat back in her chair and shook her head. Wondering, not for the first time, how he did that.
…
"Lane," she barked into the phone. Now was so not the time; she'd been heavily ensconced in finding her favorite red pumps and only found one so far. It didn't help that she was on the wrong end of a time crunch and too stubborn to wear any other shoes.
"Bad time?" Oliver replied smoothly.
Lois rolled her eyes. "Unless Chloe is in the hospital or recently won another award, I really don't have time to banter with you… I'm late for work and already on suspension."
"Not surprising. How about a holiday to make up for the inconvenience?"
Blinking, she paused in her search. Eyes narrowed, she cocked her head. "Explain."
She could hear him smirking through the phone.
…
Despite being exhausted, over-informed, and ready to pass-out should she blink too long, Chloe left the Gazette feeling like a billion bucks. Her hands hurt, her head was swimming, and her eyes stung with overuse, but she was a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist and nothing could ruin the high for her.
"You know your apartment's in the other direction, right?" a familiar voice interrupted her musings.
Chloe looked up, surprised to see Oliver leaning back against one of his prized cars. No driver meant he was planning on being out for awhile and it wasn't CEO related. Hands tucked in her pockets, she walked toward him, work bag bouncing against her hip. "And what are you doing here at this late hour?" she wondered. "I thought you'd be patrolling by now."
"Already done," he said, smiling. "And I seem to remember a certain best friend promising her weekend to me."
She cocked her head suspiciously. "My Sunday, actually. Saturday was definitely reserved for copious amounts of sleep."
Standing from his position against the car, he shrugged, walking around her and saying over her shoulder, "So sleep on the plane."
She looked at him quickly. "Plane? Did you just…?" Sighing, she frowned. "What did you do?"
He grinned. "Get in and find out." Climbing into the driver's seat of his car, he pressed the button to turn it on and revved the engine. "Come on, Chloe; let your curious nature take over."
Tossing her head back to glare at the star-littered night sky, she knew she wasn't going home to her incredible apartment or comfy bed anytime soon. Reaching behind her, she yanked the car door open and jumped inside. "This better be good," she grumbled.
With a laugh, he raced down the empty street. "Trust me."
Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the airstrip where the Queen jet was sitting lit up and ready. The pilot passed her the usual look of slight disdain and then nodded to Oliver. "We're refueled and your passenger has been asking for you."
"Passenger?" Chloe queried.
"Hey, does this thing come with any of those little bags of peanuts?" Lois' voice rang out as she stepped through the doorway to stand atop the steps.
"Lo!" Chloe cried excitedly, face lighting up.
Soon, the two cousins were hugging tightly, talking at the same time, and generally ignoring everybody else.
With a light laugh, Oliver climbed the stairs behind them and ushered them into the jet.
Confused, Chloe turned to look at him. "I thought she was my surprise."
"Part of," he allowed, leading them to their seats.
Her eyes narrowed. "What's up your sleeve?"
Across from her, he settled comfortably in his chair. "You've got about four hours to try and figure it out."
She pursed her lips. "Ollie."
He grinned. "I'm not going to tell you. You'll just have to wait and see."
Curiously, she turned to Lois.
"Hey, don't look at me, cuz! I was promised a weekend vacay and picked up in the jet… He seems to think I can't keep a secret!" she scoffed.
Chloe didn't argue that point. "Four hours, huh?" she said instead.
"Yeah." Mockingly, he teased, "Don't you wish you could use your laptop to try and figure it out?"
She frowned. "Where's my workbag?"
He smirked. "Safely forgotten in my car."
"Oliver!"
"You promised no work until Tuesday… I'm only making sure."
Sighing, she slumped back in her seat. "I don't know whether to hug you or kick you."
Lois suddenly extended her leg and gave Oliver a kick to his shin.
When they turned to look at her wonderingly, she replied, "Just helping her make up her mind."
With a snort, Chloe shook her head, smiling. Despite her protests, it felt good to be with her two favorite people, no work in sight. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what Oliver had in store for them upon landing.
…
When the jet set down, she was still too excited and curious to sleep; it didn't help that Lois had conked out and her snoring could wake the dead. Oliver was a carefully guarded safe that wasn't about to let her in on anything that might give away his plans. A town car picked them up as the jet landed and before she knew it, they were driving through Scranton, Pennsylvania, and up into the Poconos mountains for nearly an hour until they arrived at their destination. Morning light spilled over the wood and stone building; looking much like a beautiful estate with lush green lawns, towering trees, and lights that lit the whole place up in a hauntingly beautiful way. The Lodge at Woodloch, a destination spa and resort, was stunning.
"You didn't…" she murmured.
He smiled as she leaned across him to stare in wonder at the building as they drove closer. "Did."
Shaking her head, eyes wide and mind boggled, she turned to look at him. "You're crazy."
He laughed lightly. "I'm taking care of you… since you don't seem to be doing it yourself."
She rolled her eyes. "So I've been working more than usual…"
"You're overworked and exhausted," he argued seriously.
"Maybe, but Oliver… as incredible as this and as much as I appreciate it, it's not needed."
Reaching for her, he tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. "You're the hardest working woman I know; you juggle two jobs, four demanding men, and a best friend with his own various scheduling issues… You need a little down time, Sunshine." He stared at her earnestly and her shoulders eventually slumped in defeat.
Moments later, he had her hand in his and was leading her and Lois up to the main desk while a few bellboys grabbed the bags from the town car. Brows furrowed, she looked back at him. "You packed my things again, didn't you?"
He grinned. "Couldn't ruin the surprise."
"I just threw whatever was closest to me into my suitcase… so I hope this place provides more than a robe," Lois added.
Chloe snorted.
A woman dressed in a burnt orange sweater stood smiling at the concierge desk. "Welcome to the Lodge! Reservations for…?"
"Two, under Queen."
"Ah, Mr. Queen," she replied, nodding. "We've been expecting you."
"Just two?" Chloe turned to look at him. "You're not staying?"
He half-smiled. "I booked this specifically so you could have some time to just yourself and Lois… Consider it a girl's weekend."
"Do they have margaritas here?" Lois wondered, looking at the front-desk woman hopefully.
She smiled. "We have beers, wines, and cocktails, served after 11:30am."
Rubbing her hands together, Lois nodded. "Cocktails it is!"
"Ollie," Chloe sighed, frowning. "I promised my Sunday to you… What happened to you making sure I keep my word?"
"So we'll make it Monday instead; I'll drop in early Monday morning and we can spend it together." He stared at her searchingly. "I want you to enjoy yourself. No work, no internet connection, just you, Lois, and apparently too many cocktails." He grinned.
She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. "This is too much, you know that, right?"
He hugged her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You won a Pulitzer, I have never been more proud of someone in my life, and I don't want you to work yourself to the bone proving to yourself or anybody else that you deserve it."
Eyes closed, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her face in his chest. "You know me entirely too well."
He laughed lowly, the vibrations sending a shiver down her back she couldn't comprehend. When he drew back, he was smiling at her. "You have your choice of anything you want… It's snowing out, so fishing and canoeing might be off the list, but get in as many spa treatments as you can… Spoil yourself!" he ordered. "I'm leaving my platinum card and I expect it to be overused and worn thin by the time I get back."
"No arguments here," Lois piped up.
He tossed her an amused look. "Just keep your end of the deal and make sure she enjoys herself."
With a quirky grin, Lois saluted him cheekily.
Sighing, Chloe relented. "All right, okay, arm officially twisted."
Sliding an arm around her waist, Oliver stepped in between her and Lois and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as well. Checking the nametag on the front-desk woman, he grinned at her widely, "Claire, these are my two favorite ladies, I expect they'll be given the best experience possible here."
She grinned back, a flush of awareness to her cheeks. "Of course, Mr. Queen." She glanced at either woman. "They'll be treated to the highest standards offered."
"Thank you." Turning his attention back to them, he leaned down to kiss Chloe's temple and then over to Lois' cheek where she tapped expectantly. "Be good," he said, more to Lois than Chloe, and stared a moment longer before finally turning to leave, returning to the town car.
Chloe watched him go, before letting her attention be drawn by the immaculate and beautiful surroundings of the Lodge.
"If either of you are hungry, breakfast is still being served."
"Thank God, I am starved!" Lois groaned.
Chloe chuckled. After breakfast, she was taking a long nap, and then she was going to see just what was offered and have herself pampered to the extreme. She couldn't help a dig of helplessness and even regret that it was all on Oliver's dime, but she also knew that her best friend wouldn't have it any other way. While Lois seemed to be taking to it as if it were easy, even expected, Chloe still had trouble remembering some days that Oliver was a billionaire and willing to spend every last cent to make her happy. She wondered briefly what that really meant, but then the aroma of fresh fruits, scones and every pastry under the sun had caught her nose and it was time for breakfast rather than delving into their relationship.
…
"Have you seen this brochure?" Lois asked, perched in the center of Chloe's king sized bed. Outside, snow fell lightly, highlighted by the lights of the veranda. "It's like heaven on paper…" She looked up, excited. "Manicures, pedicures, facials, a to z massages, do you realize just what's going to happen here? We're going to be beyond relaxed. I won't even want to go home after this!"
She chuckled. "I'm sure if you ask nicely, Oliver will let you stay."
She brightened for a moment. "He probably would…"
"Lo-is!" she laughed. "I was kidding!"
She rolled her eyes. "Please, what's a few years paying for me to stay at a spa compared to his billions of dollars?"
Her eyes widened. "Years?"
"You're right; I should test-drive the place first… Could be all for show and I won't like any of it." She hugged her arms around herself. "Except the robe. I really like this robe." She cocked her head, looking up at her cousin wonderingly. "You think they'll let me keep it?"
Reaching out, Chloe grabbed a pillow and socked Lois over the head with it. "I'm taking a nap… You can either do the same or go exploring. Just stay out of trouble, please!"
Rolling her eyes, Lois hopped off the bed. "You know, I'm always blamed for this so-called trouble, but you have your own magnet, cuz!"
"Goodbye, Lois!" she sighed, rolling into the middle of the bed and resting her head on the big, fluffy pillows.
"All right, all right, I'm going… But I'm coming back and you and me are doing this place up Sullivan-Lane style!"
She waved absently, smiling to herself.
This was going to be an awesome weekend!
…
Chloe had never been more at ease in her life. Reclined in the most comfortable chair known to man, her feet were being treated expertly while she listened to the faint music that lulled her into a sense of complete serenity. Lois sat next to her, gaining the same treatment, and almost too content to voice her appreciation. After waking to find an impatient Lois shaking her out of her mini-coma, they went downstairs to enjoy the first bout of spa luxuries in the form of a Lotus Cleansing, which involved a mud wrap, mineral bath and hot stone massage. A hundred minutes later and Chloe was a puddle of awesome; which made it even easier for Lois to convince her facials were next. Enjoying a Golden Flame Hydrating Mask that boasted it calmed and hydrated, Chloe let it all happened and was simultaneously pampered with a scalp and hair treatment of botanical oils and massages. By the time she and Lois found the salon, she was starting to think her cousin had the right idea when she said moving in for a few years was the way to go.
Feet soaking in "natural healing waters," Chloe glanced at her cousin, who was smiling widely. "Oliver rocks," she murmured.
Chloe chuckled. "I'll be sure to tell him that."
Peeking an eye open, Lois turned her head toward her. "Seriously, we're sitting in a five-star spa resort, a place we could never afford on our own… How incredible is that?"
Her smile lengthened. "He likes his surprises."
Uncharacteristically serious, Lois argued, "He likes knowing you're taken care of."
She nodded slightly. "That too."
"He said you'd been working a lot lately…" she needled.
Sighing, Chloe looked over at her cousin. "And that's different how?"
"When Oliver calls me up because he's worried you're on your way to an early grave due to stress, it's different." She pursed her lips. "Don't get me wrong; I'm ecstatic that we get this weekend away, but… It takes a lot to worry him and when it comes to you, he goes into overdrive."
Her brows furrowed. "Is it me or has his worry-wart status skyrocketed of late?"
Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "It boggles my mind that you can be so smart and so oblivious at the same time."
Chloe scoffed. "I'm not getting into this again with you."
"Good. Because I've had it up to here trying to make you see the light," she said lifting a hand up to her eyebrows. "One of these days it's going to hit you like a Mac truck and I'm just going to gloat!"
Laughing lightly, she shook her head. "Thank you, Lo, you're full of endless wisdom and unusual tactics."
She shrugged, not willing to argue.
Not ten minutes later, as their feet were being pumiced, two more women joined the salon, taking a couple seats a few chairs down to allow for privacy and comfort. Chloe eavesdropped more out of nature than an interest of what they were saying, smiling to herself lightly as she overheard bits and pieces of gossip, of opinions on the latest spring fashions, and of the hot or not hairdo's they'd seen lately.
It was amusing, at least, if not what Chloe talked about. When with her friends, usually just the team and/or Lois, the conversations were much more global, unless she and Lois had seen the latest episode of Supernatural and then it was arguing over which was better looking, Dean or Sam. Pro-Dean all the way, she argued Lois only liked her men tall, broody and geeky, and that's why she had a thing for Sam.
With the guys, she had a different way with each. She and Victor loved computers; they could talk ones and zeroes for hours on end and still find something new to discuss each time. She and AC could talk rallies and environmental protests; he liked to keep her updated on his latest try at peace between water and land and she welcomed both his and his fish-friends' view on the matters plaguing the sea. While she and Bart were much more lighthearted, enjoying video games and take-out, and really, she couldn't help but get some enjoyment from his endless flirting. And she and Oliver could talk about anything, any subject under the sun; it was something she valued most. She imagined if she brought up spring fashions he'd get her a pass to some Parisian fashion show and introduce her to rail-thin models. And if she practiced her Blue Steel behind their backs, she knew he'd laugh with her while still putting on the Queen charm and getting his foot through doors not usually open to the public.
As if merely thinking of Oliver encouraged him into their conversation, her attention was grabbed when one of the ladies said his name clear as day.
"You'll never guess whose girlfriend is in this same room as us… Oliver Queen's!"
The woman opposite to her literally gasped. "Where? Wait, how do you know this? If this is more gossip from the maid…" she sighed.
"I saw him myself! He walked in with two women on his arm; one was that reporter he's been dating for years… You know the one! She was on G! magazine's cover last week; something about how the billionaire fell for a smart one. She won like a peace prize or something."
Chloe had to bite her tongue so not to correct her; it was the fact that she wanted to say Pulitzer rather than I'm his friend, not his girlfriend that caused her to pause, however.
"Oh, that's right!" she exclaimed jubilantly. "Uh, Claire or Carrie or something."
"Chloe! Yeah! She's here!"
"Where? And don't point, just, I dunno, nod or something…"
Chloe rolled her eyes, hearing a snort escape Lois next to her.
"There's only four of us in here. She's the blonde right over there, next to the super-tall brunette."
"Oh, oh, I see her… Wait, I thought they were just friends?"
"Oh please, have you seen some of the pictures?"
"Pictures can be taken out of context, Nina."
"Who's that touchy-feely with an opposite-sex best friend?" Nina scoffed. "Unless one of them is gay, there's some serious chemistry going on there!"
"So there's no actual proof though, right? I mean, they aren't big on PDA or they haven't admitted it or something?"
"Well… no… but come on, Jen! Oh!" She cried gleefully, "I have a G! with me! You'll see! There's a ton of pictures of them…" Rifling through her bag, she came out with a stack of five or six G! magazines and plopped them down on Jen's lap. "There! Judge for yourself!"
With a sigh, she opened the magazine and after a short argument over whether she should just flip through or read the table of contents, they apparently found the latest pictures of Chloe and Oliver.
"Okay, so-Ooh… You're right." She flipped through a few more and tisked. "Some of me and my exes didn't hold each other this much! Aww…" she gushed. "Look at how he smiles at her." With a blown out sigh, she admitted, "I wish a man would look at me like that…"
"Don't get so down on yourself, Jen. We specifically came here so you could stop worrying about your love life!"
"Then why are we dissecting somebody else's?" she wondered, no doubt with a roll of her eyes.
"Because these aren't just regular people! I mean, come on, our boyfriends, nonexistent though they are, couldn't just send us off on a random spa weekend that you and I practically had to take a bank loan out for!"
"She might've saved up; she's not a billionaire!" she argued.
"Hah! I so heard him tell the concierge to spoil them and he said something about a platinum card… It's all on him! Whose best friend even does that!"
"I wouldn't complain if you anted up for this," Jen said lightly.
"Yeah, if you have the space on your couch for me after I've been kicked out of my apartment for not making rent, then I'll pay for you on top on my tab… As it is, I should really lay off the room service."
Jen snorted.
"Look, all I'm saying is that the Chloe Sullivan's of the world are a whole other breed than us. I mean, yeah, sure, she's just a reporter who probably brings in the same as us at the end of the day, but… I read somewhere she met him when she was just starting her career… She must be so used to this by now. All the money and glamour and fame… Can you even imagine?"
"I'd like to…"
"I know!" She laughed. "She has to have feminine wiles coming out of her pores… I read somewhere that before her he was like the biggest playboy ever known! But he met her at some charity thing and it was like love at first sight!" Sighing wistfully, she mused, "How are some women so lucky?"
"You could always ask her," Jen teased.
Nina scoffed. "Because she's going to just give up her tactics…"
"For all you know, they happen to have a lot in common and it was just great timing."
"Yeah, maybe. Unlikely, but maybe… Hey, you think it'd be weird if I got her autograph?"
Jen laughed. "I don't want to burst your bubble, Ni, but what exactly are you going to say? 'Hi, I'm a big fan of how lucky you are to have that hunk in your bed and paying for whatever you want and I wish had your life, can you please sign this G! for me?" Amused, she shook her head. "She'll probably call security and have you kicked out… Hell, her boyfriend could buy this place and have you banned!"
As they giggled over their ridiculousness, Chloe sighed to herself. Turning back to her pedicurist, she happened to catch Lois' expression. "What?"
Smirking, she glanced at her younger cousin. "Looks like I'm not the only one seeing the obvious."
Rolling her eyes, she returned, "Shut up."
Playing it off as nothing, she relaxed into her pedicure and chose to ignore her cousin and the still chatting women across the room. But when her feet were nice and pretty and Lois was complaining about how hungry she was, she followed her cousin out of the salon, pausing once to grab up the forgotten stack of G! magazines and hid them inside her robe. If she wanted to do a little research and try and see what the two women had, that was completely normal. She was sure they were reading too far into an innocent picture.
…
By Monday morning, Chloe was spa'd out. She was relaxed, rejuvenated and appreciative; her cousin was still sampling everything, twice, and Chloe was sprawled on her bed, perusing the magazines she'd snagged off the two unsuspecting spa-goers from Saturday evening. Taking out only the pictures of her and Oliver, she tossed away the rest of the gossip magazines and carefully took apart each and every picture, from expressions to body language to trying to remember what was happening or what was said that allowed them to have been snapped in that position.
The first three were a few months old; she and Oliver were out for dinner at a new Greek restaurant. The candle on the tabletop had lit them up in a way that was entirely too romantic for a meal between friends, but she was sure that was more the camera's filter, because she sure hadn't noticed it the night of. In the first photo, they were holding their wine glasses up to each other in cheers, laughing, with huge smiles between them.
She remembered Oliver saying, "To us, a bad internet connection, and the C-note that got us in here on short-notice." Originally, they'd planned on spending the night in, on their laptops, catching up on work. On rare occasions when they were both bogged down with work and didn't want to spend their night at Queen Industries or the Gazette, they'd meet up at his place or hers, sit side by side on the couch, legs propped on the coffee table, and spend hours just working. Sometimes Oliver would ask her opinion on his latest business deal and alternately, she'd get his view on what was making headlines. But that night the internet was down and neither of them could get their work done without it. Giving in, they decided they might as well enjoy their evening together and found themselves at the booming new restaurant. Oliver slipped the lady with the reservation book a hundred and she had them seated before he could even drop his name.
Out of context, she decided. The picture was of just two friends, laughing, enjoying a good time.
The second photo was with their food in front of them; she had a plate of lemon, garlic lamb chops while he had a mousaka, both of their mouth-watering meals coming with roasted potatoes, vegetables and a Greek salad. Because sharing was just something they'd always done with food, the picture was that of her holding a slice of her lamp chop out for him, his mouth surrounding the fork as he leaned across the table just enough. Eyes half-closed and a smile drawing his mouth at the corners, he'd given her a thumbs up on her meal choice and she'd grinned back at him.
Out of context again. What was wrong with a couple of friends sharing a bite of their food? Nothing.
The third, she could see why some people might see something more, even if it wasn't really there.
They were on their way out, pausing at the check coat. With Oliver's coat already on, he was helping her with hers, and just as the material was halfway across her shoulders, he'd bent to kiss her temple. She couldn't remember what was said or what had encouraged him to do so, she wasn't surprised though. He'd always been affectionate with her. Eyes at half-mass, gaze on the floor, her lips were upturned in a smile, and the photographer had gotten a snapshot that said more than it was meant to.
In fact, it would seem from the many pictures taken of them through various G! magazines, photographers had found a great many chances to grab a picture of the two of them in a position that might be more intimate than friendly. On their way to lunch one blustery afternoon, with Oliver's arm slung around her shoulders and hers around his waist, their heads bent together; that picture had made the list of cutest couples in their Winter Edition. One of them at the beach the summer before, Oliver showing off in a pair of green shorts while she sported a modest white bikini, the two of them not the least bit conscious of attention as they ran through the water and he tossed her over his shoulder or into the oncoming waves, had made the top five Beach Babes collection G! magazine had the previous August. Picture after picture, old and new, people had seen them together, on vacation, at work, enjoying an evening out together, and labeled them as a couple, disregarding their arguments.
It was ridiculous, Chloe decided. And she was over fighting it.
When a knock came at the door, she shoved the magazines off her bed and into the waste basket. She was tired of fighting the media, strangers and even her cousin; they were free to think what they wanted. So what if Oliver paid for her to go on a spa weekend because he thought she worked too hard? He was just being a great friend, one who just so happened to have the ability to pay for something so extravagant. And so what if he was affectionate? Kissing her cheek or her temple or holding her hand? She liked that. She liked that he was so comfortable with her. In fact, if he ever stopped, she might actually wonder what was wrong! So they could question it all they wanted and they could see things that weren't there, but Chloe knew the truth. She and Oliver were best friends and they would remain that way. Forever.
As she swung the door open, slightly angry and feeling all too righteous, she came face to face with the man in question. Grinning, Oliver held a yellow tulip out to her. And suddenly, she was drained. Her frown became a smile, her bunched up nerves relaxed, her shoulders slumped, and a large part of her simply wanted to hug the man in front of her. "I wasn't expecting you for a little while yet."
"The benefits of owning my own jet," he said simply. Looking her up and down, he cocked a brow. "Have you worn any regular clothes since arriving?"
She snorted. "If you knew how comfortable the provided robes and pajamas are, you wouldn't bother asking me that!"
Chuckling, he held a hand out. "Breakfast and then you can fill me in on how awesome I am for doing this for you."
Rolling her eyes, she stepped out of her room, closing the door behind her, and took his hand. Plucking the offered tulip from his fingers, she held it up to her nose and inhaled its sweet fragrance.
Clasped hands swinging between them as they walked down the hallway, he glanced at her impatiently. "So?"
She laughed. "I thought I was boosting your ego after?"
"All right, just a hint. Thumps up or thumbs way up?"
Shaking her head, she let go of his hand only to wrap her arm around his waist and hug him. "You're incredible, you spoil me too much, I love you, and please, please stop making me look like the bad best friend for not being able to do this for you in return!" Looking up at him, she offered, "FYI, I give a mean massage… but I can't afford to buy one for you!"
Grinning, he slid his arm around her shoulders. "I can take care of myself… Sometimes, I just want to do the same for you."
"Tea works," she argued. "Green tea, sleeping in Saturday and a certain best friend's ear to bemoan to is always welcome."
His brows quirked. "You know you're not going to convince me to stop doing these things for you, right?"
She pursed her lips. "Just like you know my knowing that won't stop me from trying to convince you I don't need anything expensive, right?"
He looked down at her, amused. "Did it work?"
Sighing, she had to admit, "I'm the epitome of relaxation."
He smirked proudly. "Good."
"I should warn you though…"
He looked down at her suspiciously.
"Lois wants to move here," she said, dead-serious. "Maybe not permanently, but a year or two, at least…"
"Is that right?"
Eyes wide, she sighed mockingly, "You brought this on yourself!"
With a laugh, he shrugged. "I dunno, might be worth it to send Lois off here for a year or two… It'll be like boarding school. I'll only have to see her when I stop in to pay for damages."
"Damages?" she repeated, brows furrowed.
"It's Lois," he said simply.
She couldn't argue.
On their way to the dining room, trading stories of their spent weekends, Chloe happened to spot the two women, Jen and Nina, from the other day in the salon. Loaded down with luggage and on their way out, they paused mid-step to stare, wide-eyed, as she and Oliver crossed the room to a table. Oblivious to their looks, Oliver grinned down at Chloe, dragging out her seat for her to take and helping her move in close to the table before circling to take his own across from her. She wondered briefly what they must look like, if this only fueled their suspicions, but then remembered that she didn't care. Couldn't care. Across from her was Oliver Queen, the best friend she could have ever asked for, and regardless of other people's opinions, she knew what he was to her.
As they picked up their menus, she was safely fooled in that knowledge. He reached out to take her hand, squeezing lightly, and caught her gaze. "I missed you," he said with the same sincerity as always.
Her heart jumped and her skin warmed.
Out of context, she decided. This was normal. She was allowed to feel humbled and flattered that her best friend would miss her. Besides… "I missed you too," she returned. And she had. Maybe it was only two days and she'd been busy with Lois and the spa, but he was always at the back of her mind. Him and his unending generosity, his care for her, his friendship that knew no bounds. She was lucky, she knew. Maybe not in the way those women had thought, but exceptionally lucky nonetheless. And that was good enough for her.
[Next: Part XXIV - Of Relocating and Double-Teaming Reporters.]