For Richer or Poorer - NC17 - Chloe/Oliver - Part Four
Title: For Richer or Poorer
Category: Smallville
Genre: Romance/Drama/Humor/Action
Ship: Chloe/Oliver
Rating: NC17
Spoiler(s): Season 6 - Arrow
Word Count: 7,288
Summary: (AU) Oliver Queen, former journalist and current computer specialist, has met his match in Chloe Sullivan, billionaire CEO and secret leather-wearing vigilante.
Previous: Part One, Part Two, Part Three,
dhfreak
IV.
Chloe stared at the print-out with furrowed brows. "What am I looking at here boys?" she asked, raising her eyes to the widescreen installed in her apartment precisely for these conference calls.
Victor and AC stared back at her, stony-faced, while Bart was jumping up and down in the background, trying to get some screen-time.
"A Luthor special… Seems he's just another name to add to the list of billionaires who love their black-market trinkets," Victor told her, half-rolling his eyes. "This diamond beauty was hard to track, but we finally got a decent lead and it led us straight back here."
"Where is it?" she wondered, peering down at the intricate design of silver and diamonds with seven figure-eight clusters that drew the eye.
"Luthorcorp vault, far as we can tell," AC replied. "The security there is high." He raised his brows seriously. "Like off-the-charts, don't go in unless you have to, high."
She smirked back at him. "That's the kind of security I live for…"
Suddenly, Bart popped up in front of the two men, almost too close to the camera. "Hey Chiquita!" He winked. "Listen, I was thinking… Me and you could do this job with our hands tied behind our backs…" He rubbed his palms together excitedly. "I run you in, you do your badass break in, I run you out, and we get Chinese after. My treat!"
Hand on top of Bart's head, Victor shoved him out of the picture. "If she signs your checks, it's her treat…" He frowned, looking back at Chloe. "And I'd prefer if we waited for somewhere that didn't have Safetex guards walking the perimeter night and day…" He raised a brow. "We want the necklace, but the last thing we need is you getting caught."
She nodded, lips pursed. "So what's your plan?"
AC grinned. "Luthor Senior is having that bash for Senator Kent in a few days… Most of Safetex is going to be there, keeping an eye on him and everybody else…" He shrugged. "We go in, get the necklace, and they're too far away to get to us in time… Perfect window of opportunity."
She nodded. "I would agree if I wasn't personally invited by the senator herself," she sighed.
"So skip it," Bart scoffed. "Or make an appearance after the heist."
"No, that's… It's too suspicious," she denied, shaking her head.
"Or maybe there's somebody at this fancy shindig that you're hoping to run into…" Victor speculated.
Chloe glared back. "My personal business will never interfere with this, and you know that…" She stared at him seriously. "Look, you and Bart can pull this off. If anything, it only adds to my alibi if I'm seen canoodling with Metropolis' richest while this is happening halfway across the city…"
AC crossed his arms, nodding thoughtfully. "No, that makes sense… People are going to start drawing parallels. This string of robberies only started happening after you showed up in town and they might start looking back to Star City for clues…" He looked back at the others and then to the screen. "Bart's your height and with a little padding, he might even pull of looking like a very feminine vigilante…" He grinned widely.
"Padding? Why would I need-" The short speedster looked down at himself and scowled. "Man…"
Chloe chuckled. "I believe in you, Impulse. I'm sure you'll represent me accordingly."
With a shrug, he replied, "Babe, I'll make you look good!"
Victor snorted. "Now that we have that all worked out…" He quirked a brow back at the camera. "How's Metropolis?"
"Fine… Busy…" She frowned. "I'll be happy to get back to Star City."
"Really?" he asked, skeptical.
She rolled her eyes. "Really…"
"We heard you might have a new guy in your life, boss," AC interrupted, looking too innocent. "Bart's been moping ever since."
Chloe glared at Victor and then looked back at AC. "I do not have a new man in my life. I think my life has proven to be a testosterone overload as it is," she assured, rising from her seat at the edge of her desk. "Now if we could please stop discussing my nonexistent love life…" She waved the picture of the necklace at them. "I want blueprints of Luthorcorp, the safe and everything you can get me on Safetex. I don't want you guys going in there blind and if I'm not going to be there with you, I really don't want to have to worry all night…"
Returning to work mode, the three men nodded. "On it," they agreed.
"I'm thinking pizza will really get us in a snooping mood," Bart decided. "Anybody else?"
Victor sighed, rolling his eyes. "You just ate!"
"Dude, that was like… forever ago."
"It was a half hour," he muttered through grit-teeth.
"Yeah…" Bart emphasized, nodding. "I'm starving!"
"You're-"
AC quirked a smile, watching as they started arguing in the background before looking to the camera once more. "You really sure you miss all this?"
Chloe smiled brightly back. "You have no idea."
He nodded. "You can come home anytime, you know? Or send the jet…" He shrugged. "I'm always up for a visit."
"Away from your ocean?" she wondered, a little surprised.
"They've got water in Metropolis, Chlo…" He smiled lightly. "And besides, I'm missing what little sanity there is in this group. If I'm left with them much longer, I might just convert and join in."
She laughed. "Please, don't. You're the only adult I have left."
He chuckled. "I gotta go break up that fight and apparently order pizza… Call us if you need us," he told her, raising a brow meaningfully.
She nodded. "I will."
He reached up to the camera, winked farewell, and disconnected.
Chloe stared back at the blue screen a moment and sighed. Somehow, chaos and pizza sounded a lot better than expensive Chinese take-out and a whole lot of paperwork. What an exciting life she lived, she thought derisively.
…
"I thought you were taking Lois," Oliver said through a mouthful of turkey sandwich. Having been called over to the Kent farm and only a stomach full of coffee to sustain him, his mouth had literally watered at the sight of Mrs. K's cooking. At Martha's frown, he smiled sheepishly, swallowed, and wiped his mouth with the provided napkin. "Sorry… But I thought Lois was getting excited to join you at that benefit thing… Something about charming the masses with her wit and style." He rolled his eyes. "Obviously Clark's not gonna be there, 'cause when he's around Lois gets even crazier." He even used the rolling finger next to his temple for emphasis.
Martha chuckled, waving a dishtowel at him admonishingly. "Well you seemed to enjoy yourself last time and to be honest, sometimes I feel like I have to babysit Lois… Make sure she isn't saying the worst thing to the worst person…" She shrugged. "I love her and I'll invite her into the family with open arms, but sometimes I really wish I had the ability to know what she was going to say before she said it."
He laughed deeply. "Ignoring the fact that I'm pretty sure you just admitted you think Lois is going to be your future daughter-in-law, I have to agree. That power would've definitely come in handy when we were growing up…"
"I can imagine," she agreed, reaching over to top off his glass of milk.
He eyed the plate in front of him, overflowing with a thick turkey sandwich with all the trimmings. "Are you trying to bribe me, Mrs. K?"
She grinned. "Is it working?"
"A little," he admitted playfully. "Not to burst the bubble, Lois can be a handful, but I'm not exactly the best person to introduce to a roomful of backers either… I was on my best behavior last time, but I think we both know I'm not a fan of the wealthy."
"Really? Because I was under the impression a certain young woman had changed your mind even a little," she reminded, eyes narrowed knowingly.
He sighed, resting his arms on the island tabletop. "You're meddling again, aren't you?" He shook his head. "I knew Clark was gonna take awhile to get it together with Lois, so when those two started dating I knew you had something to do with it… But this…" His gaze narrowed. "Tell me, did you look her up before that night or did inspiration strike then and there and you just had to get the ball rolling?"
Grinning happily, Martha shrugged. "I'd met Chloe before, briefly. She'd spoken to me about becoming a backer and I was honestly charmed by her… She's a sweetheart, Ollie, and you know, she… She reminded me of myself at that age in some ways… She certainly had a lot more opportunities and she's got a lot on her plate, but she pays attention to what's important." She stared at him searchingly. "That night, when we made that bet and I saw her, I just thought… It makes sense." She shrugged a shoulder. "And I stick by that. If you could've seen her face when we talked the other day at lunch… When I brought you up, she-" She smiled. "She lit right up."
"Yeah, I heard about that…" he scoffed. "Apparently you made me sound like a prepubescent boy who just figured out girls don't have cooties…"
Her eyes brightened, widening. "You've talked since?"
"Mrs. K…" he groaned, tossing his napkin aside. "Look, I'll be the first to admit that Chloe is… different… in a really great way. Even Lois says I need to get over this whole money-doesn't-make-a-person spiel. But she… I…" He sighed. "She's stockholders and fancy balls and I'm a one-man computer specialist who has to rent a suit when his best friend's mom needs a cheap date… That really doesn't speak equality to me." He frowned.
"Those are material things, Oliver," she sighed. "What matters is what's going on inside a person, not outside… Just because she grew up with money and wealth and fame doesn't mean she can't understand your struggles… You was alone most of her life, she lost her parents very young, I'd lay money on the fact that she's not like any regular billionaire… But you'll never really know until you stop looking at her like she has a dollar sign stuck to her forehead."
Blowing out a long breath, he hung his head. "Lois said something like that, only less nice."
She laughed lightly. "For all her snark, Lois is a very smart girl…"
Having known Lois all his life, he smiled agreeably. She had her moments where common sense seemed to completely abandon her, but overall, she was still smarter than the average Joe any day. And while she might not have said it with Martha's soft nudging, she had got it right. He glanced up at her and frowned to himself. "Do you think I'm wrong…? The way I see people, the world… How I look at wealth?"
She stared at him a long moment. "I think, like Jonathon, that you have some prejudices… I also think that comes from growing up in a family where you have to work hard and not always see it pay off…" She smiled sadly. "I can't count how many times we nearly lost the farm and Jonathon wanted to blame it on Lionel… And maybe he did have something to do with it." She shook her head. "I know he was willing to buy the land for dirt cheap and he had no problem taking it from us… But it's not always the billionaire who lives down the block that's calling the shots. Sometimes it's the economy or outside problems and blaming them all on an easy target makes sense for awhile…" She stared down at the countertop a moment. "But living your life that way, assuming the worst of anyone with money because you want to blame them for whatever bad might've happened… It's not fair to you or anyone else." Reaching out, she patted his hand. "Oliver, your dad has worked hard his whole life and I know that Luthorcorp doesn't value him as much as you think it should… But we all make our own choices, have our own sacrifices, and we can't force those on anybody else…" She shrugged her shoulders. "Robert likes his job; it's why he stays… He wanted better for you though, it's why he's never brought up open job positions at Luthorcorp, he's just praised you for going your own way…" She squeezed his hand lightly. "Until you get out there and see the world, you can't label everybody the same."
"And you think Chloe's going to change my mind?" he wondered, brow raised skeptically.
"I think she's already changing things for you… I think she's surprised you in ways you never expected." She grinned. "And yes, I think she could open your eyes a little more to the world as a whole."
His lips pursed. "That's just it though; we come from very different worlds and frankly…" He sighed, shaking his head, "I'm not sure how they're supposed to meet."
"I think the first step is realizing that it's not a different world, just a different background." She smiled. "She may not have grown up like you and maybe she doesn't see life the same way you do, but that doesn't mean you don't have things in common or that you can't find something in each other that makes everything else pale in comparison."
"You're a romantic," he told her, unable to contain a smile.
"And I'm not wrong," she told him seriously, brows hiked for emphasis. "When I met Jonathon, I was a city girl who didn't want anything to do with the country or settling down or any of it. But sometimes, you meet the right person and suddenly those things you think are wrong for you… aren't. It was just the timing." She sighed. "Chloe might be a billionaire, she might be one of the most recognized faces of America, but she's also just a woman, a lonely woman, who deserves more than just tax brackets and Armani suits." She stared at him seriously "Oliver… You're more than just a small-town boy… You've got your computers and your company and you know that there is life outside of Smallville… Are you really sure you're not cut out to be a part of her life, or are you just afraid of leaving your safe little bubble?"
"Hate to break it to you, Mrs. K, but safe is not the word I'd use for anything Smallville-related."
She rolled her eyes at his cheekiness. "You know what I mean…"
"I like her, I'll admit that. A lot…" He sighed, shaking his head. "But I don't belong up in her ivory tower…"
"Maybe she doesn't either… Maybe her life is more than just money and business…" She shook her head. "Or maybe you two could make a life somewhere in the middle." She smiled knowingly. "You'll never know until you try."
He frowned, brows knotted.
"The benefit's Wednesday at seven… Chloe's promised to be there and Lionel is sending a car at five so we'll be on time… I've already had your suit dry-cleaned." As she walked past, she paused to squeeze his shoulder. "Trust me on this."
As she left, he stared down at his delicious and tempting half-eaten sandwich. "This is your fault," he muttered. But with the knowledge that he'd be seeing Chloe in a few days, he couldn't help his grin.
…
Chloe winced as a pin hit her hip and not the thin red fabric it was meant to. At least the blood would blend in.
"I-I'm so sorry," the seamstress apologized, cringing. Wringing her hands and readjusting her glasses, she jumped up to a standing position and gaped at Chloe. "That-That won't happen again, I prom-"
She rolled her eyes. Seriously, she was not going to have the girl fired for accidentally poking her with a needle. "Given how thin the fabric is, I'm really not surprised…" She ran her hands down her sides. It was soft, yes, but she felt basically naked wearing it. And for the price she was paying, she thought fashion may well be a more lucrative business than she suspected. Glancing back at the girl, she teased lightly, "Although, I already hit the blood drive up, so if we could avoid anymore unnecessary letting…?"
The girl offered up a baffled smile. "Y-Yes, of course."
"Can I just ask what has you so worried I'm going to transform into dragon-lady and bite your head off… um…" She shook her head. "I'm sorry; I didn't get your name."
"Oh! Uh, it-it's Beth." She smiled
Chloe nodded. "Okay, Beth then… Look, I promise I can take a little poking and prodding. Besides, I pretty much begged you guys to have a dress made especially for this occasion and on short notice too," she reminded.
"Oh, um, it's not… It's not you, really. I-I mean it's not like there's gossip or anything. Well, I mean, there is… There's a lot of gossip," she babbled. "But most of it, about you anyway, is good!" Her brows hiked high on her forehead for emphasis. "It's just working here, day in and day out, for a lot of people who really don't appreciate the fine details of having a dress custom made…" She blew out a sigh of irritation, pacing around the podium as she eyed the fabric swathing Chloe's body. "I never mean to draw blood, although sometimes I wouldn't mind getting a little stab in here or there but-" She stopped, mortified. "Oh my goodness, please don't tell my boss I said, well, any of that… I don't want to lose my job and those people, I-They-They're probably your friends and-"
"Don't worry about it." Chloe chuckled, waving it off. "Trust me; nobody you're talking about is my friend… I have three of those and they're all men who would never set foot in this store… No offense." She grinned. "They prefer sneakers and jeans, and to be frank, so do I." She shrugged. "But duty calls and I've got this benefit in a couple days…" She shook her head. "Some part of me really wants to skip it…" She chewed her lip anxiously, "and another part is excited in a way I've never been before, so…"
"A guy?" Beth asked, seeming to find her confidence. She slid a couple more pins between her lips before she knelt to play with the fabric at the hem. "Hey, do you by chance know Ryan Gosling?"
She smiled down at her. "Unfortunately, no… Although I've heard he's a really nice guy."
"He's definitely nice to look at." She slid a few pins in carefully. "Anyway, you were saying… There's a good looking guy at this benefit, right?" She winked up at her. "I know the signs."
"He's… Drop-dead gorgeous," she admitted, honestly. Blowing out a sigh, she shook her head. "But he's not really… my type?" She screwed up her eyes.
"Are you asking or telling?" Beth stood up and cocked her head.
"Well, I… I've never really had a type… but I guess I expected it to be more like my dad…"
"Who judging by the price-tag on this fabric is probably pretty wealthy…" she mused, eyes wide.
She nodded. "He was," she agreed, thinking back. "But that wasn't… It wasn't the money that made him. He was…" She smiled gently, remembering her dad's smile and the way he tried so hard to make her laugh at the most ridiculous of things. How goofy and lighthearted and sweet he could be. "He was such a good man. Kind and fun and funny…" She inhaled deeply. "He never really cared about money." She shook her head. "But I guess that's easy to say that when you have billions."
"I wouldn't know," the girl admitted, shrugging.
"And this guy, this very handsome and charming guy, he… He's not a billionaire and he doesn't really hang around with the same crowd as I do, but…" Her eyes softened. "He gets me, I think. Or he could get me… Like in a way that the people I do hang around with, work associates and Fortune 500 club members, would never understand…" She shook her head. "Only he's so stuck on thinking I'm just like them, all the while I'm thinking I'm more like him, and it's just…" She threw her head back. "You know, before romance made its grand and abrupt entrance into my life, I didn't have such a headache!"
Beth giggled. "Sometimes it's worth it…" She looked up and wiggled her hand at Chloe, a small diamond ring winking back. "He's a pizza delivery guy and he doesn't know the first thing about tailoring anything, but he's my other half and I wouldn't trade him in for, well, Ryan Gosling." She grinned. "I think when you find it you should just… take it! If he doesn't know you're not like the others, show him… And if he still doesn't get it, then he was just the introduction to the world of romance, and you'll find the right guy soon enough." She stood, hands on her hips, and nodded. "Now this… This is your dress…" Taking Chloe's hips, she turned her toward the mirror. "And Mr. Drop Dead Gorgeous is gonna lose his mind!"
Chloe stared at herself in the mirror and nodded. "I think you're right."
On a few accounts, she added to herself.
…
Days later, Oliver walked into the hall Lionel was holding his meet and greet benefit for the Senator. When he and Martha stepped into the room, eyes widened. He was fairly sure gossip mongers had dubbed him Martha's young plaything and while he loved Mrs. K like the mother he wished he had growing up, he honestly got a little sick to his stomach whenever the very idea was brought up. Besides, she was half-way into a relationship with Lionel Luthor; which Oliver was pretty sure was the worst idea ever, but had no say so he kept his mouth shut. Regardless, Martha looked beautiful, and she was sure to win over the crowd and have them backing her in the coming senate race, which was far more important than the beautiful blonde billionaire he hadn't been able to get off his mind since meeting her.
Still, his eyes scanned the crowd, searching out that halo of golden waves and striking green eyes. He was taking Lois' advice and trying to treat her like he would any other woman who managed to make him feel like the world was spinning out of control beneath his feet… Which would be no woman before her so he didn't have the best platform for walking into the situation at hand. He was also taking Martha's words to heart and doing his best to keep an open mind and stop assuming the worst. Given he was a Smallville native, assuming the worst was pretty much what he breathed.
As Martha squeezed his arm and then pointed out someone she wanted to talk to, he nodded to her and then returned to his main mission in coming to this swanky party in the first place. Find Chloe. Like the universe had heard him and was willing to do him one last favor, the people parted, a sea of tuxedos and gowns separated down the middle. And that was when he spotted her.
Grinning, his eyes narrowed. She was speaking to an older gentleman with thick glasses and his much younger wife; a woman who was looking Chloe up and down like she wanted to claw her eyes out. As Chloe reached out and squeezed the older man's arm in farewell, she nodded once at the young wife and then turned to leave, only slowing her steps as Oliver appeared in her line of sight. She tipped her head in hello. "Oliver Queen… Am I to assume Martha's arrived?"
He glanced over at his pseudo-date who was deeply engaged in conversation with someone he didn't recognize off-hand. "And charming the room as we speak."
Chloe turned to see Martha and then paused, staring a long moment, her brows furrowed. Her fingers fluttered up to her throat thoughtfully and then she turned to him and smiled distractedly. "Good… With any luck, her pockets will be lined with support by the end of the night..." Shaking it off, she nodded back at the couple she'd been talking to and said, "Mr. Westcott's already talking about her like an old friend. Good sign, I think."
"Here's hoping," he agreed. He took a moment to take her in; gone were the pencil skirt and blouse and back was the dress. Red this time. Shorter than the last, it fell to just above her knees, showing off long, attractive legs. Shiny, strapless and satin-like, it wrapped around her curvy body, making her the picture of feminine confidence.
Hearing the light piano playing in the background and just about ready to offer up his first born for the chance to touch her, he thanked fate for his second favor. Raising a hand, palm up, he asked, "Dance?"
She looked around briefly, seeing a few couples enjoying the pastime and then eyed him wonderingly. He wondered for a moment if she might turn him down, but then her lips twitched. "Should I be worried about my toes?"
He grinned. "I'll try my best not to crush them."
With a light laugh, she took his hand and grinned widely as he twirled her easily into his arms. "Looks like you have moves, Mr. Queen."
He shrugged with fake modesty. "Mrs. K taught me when I was younger… It was my first school dance and I had two left feet."
"Hard to imagine," she mused, sidling in close so their bodies seemed to brush with each step.
He inhaled deeply as his smile waivered. His hand skimmed of its own accord away from her hip and up the expanse of her back, sweeping up near the nape of her neck, her soft blonde curls tickling him, before falling low to the small of her back. Her skin was so soft he could hardly tell the difference between it and her whisper-thin dress. Thinking on it too much was going to make things entirely too awkward, however, and so he tried to focus on her face and not the sultry sway of her body against his. But with each breath, he was inhaling her and with each beat of the song it seemed they got impossibly closer. In that moment, there were no bank statements, no deep dark secrets, nothing but two people breathing the same air.
She shivered in his embrace, staring up at him from beneath long lashes, her eyes shimmering a deep green. His jaw ticked as he fought the desire to reach down and taste her lips, to see if it might change her mossy eyes to a dark forest shade. She let out a puff of air as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. "Did you wow the crowd at your dance?" she wondered.
He winked at her. "What do you think?"
She laughed breathily. "I'm sure the girls were falling all over themselves for that smile..." Her hand slipped away from his shoulder and light touched his chin, her nail tracing the cleft. A shudder of awareness slid through him and he couldn't help but want her hands to trace every other ridge of his body. Arousal settled heavy in his stomach. The way her eyes fell hooded said she was feeling something very similar. "You were probably quite the lady killer in your high school."
He shrugged lightly. "I did all right."
She arched a brow as if she expected all right wasn't the half of it.
"To be honest, I spent a lot of my time chasing down leads and avoiding being killed," he admitted. And if that wasn't too honest for a pair of people who'd only spoken three times, he didn't know what was.
She laughed shortly. "And I thought Excelsior was tough."
He smiled and wondered if she should be classified as less than sane for not bothering to wonder why a statement like that wasn't worth getting far, far away from him. He always did attract the crazier of the bunch. He couldn't say this time was a disappointment, however. "Smallville grows on you… I think I might almost miss being target practice."
"Really?" she asked, brows furrowed.
"Maybe miss is a strong word…" He grinned. "Most of my work is here in Metropolis and I should probably make the move but…" He shook his head. "I guess I never really found any reason to…"
"And what reason are you looking for?" she wondered, lightly smoothing her palm across his shoulder. It was a relaxing gesture, but every muscle in his body seemed to tighten and react. "What motivates Oliver Queen?"
"Once upon a time, I thought all I ever needed was coffee and Wi-Fi…" he admitted quietly, staring at her seriously.
"Once upon a time?"
He nodded. "And then one night a week ago changes everything…"
She stared at him a long moment and for a second he thought the rest of the room might have faded away entirely. It was just them, just green eyes meeting brown, just two bodies moving in sync across a marble floor, just stuttering breaths and fast heartbeats and the desire coiling in his stomach, desperate to reach out and touch her. And he wasn't wrong that she was feeling the same; it wasn't just him that was fighting against the heat coursing through his blood. She was pressed up so close he swore he could feel her heart hammering through her breast.
Finally, as if catching herself, she darted her gaze down. With a hesitant smile, she raised a brow at him with speculative humor. "So what's your preference? Older women or boring parties?"
Some part of him wanted to ignore the easy out, to let this moment go deeper. But then the rest of the room came back into focus and the music stopped. With some effort, he managed to let go of her, letting his hand graze along her body as long as possible before it fell uselessly at his side.
He forced a low chuckle in answer of her lighthearted dig. "Martha's a family friend. My cousin was supposed to come along but Martha asked me to go instead…" He shrugged. "It's not usually my scene and I probably would've said no but… Frankly, I don't trust your friends to treat her as well as she deserves."
Her grin widened. "Then you have good instincts…" She began walking, slowing enough to encourage him to walk in-step with her. "I get the impression you don't like money… Or at least not when certain people have large quantities of it."
Tucking his arms behind his back, he moved in sync with her. "Sometimes I can't help but think that if we were all on an even playing field, we wouldn't treat each other as though we were so expendable."
"You grew up in middle-America farm country, Oliver…" She cocked a brow. "Was everybody so accepting of each other or was their still dissention among the masses?"
He half-frowned. "I guess in high school we all had our cliques… Ran with our own crowds."
"You know why that is? Because hierarchy is natural." She shrugged her bare shoulders and he wanted too much to reach out and touch them. "It's not always fair or nice, but it's everywhere… You put three people together and one will lead, one will follow, and one will argue." She turned, staring up at him. "Money is just one more reason for us to fight to be on top. Take it away and we'll find another."
"But if you have money, if you're at the top of the pyramid, why lord it over those who don't? Why not do everything in your power to bring peace?" He stared at her searchingly, as if he honestly expected her to know, to explain it to him.
Her lips smoothed into a faint frown and he found himself missing her smile.
"Have you ever wondered if it's not the money that bothers you, but the power?" She turned then, searching through the crowd and pausing as she found Lionel. "I would bet my entire company that if even if he had only a dime to his name, he would find a way to keep the power…" Looking back at him, she said, "What we have or own or what our bank statements might say doesn't make a person… It's what we do and believe and feel…"
"And for those who think only of themselves…? Who strip the world of what good it has left for their own means?" He lifted a brow. "Who steal that power at whatever the cost? What happens to them?"
"Karma," she answered with a winsome smile. "Fortune favors the bold, Mr. Queen… If you do nothing, nothing changes." Her eyes shot to the side then and then lowered. "Your date's about to make a speech. I think I'll visit the powder room while Lionel wins over the crowd." With a wink, she turned on her heel and fled for the restrooms.
He watched her go, the sensual sway of her hips catching his eye. She glanced over her shoulder and he thought his heart actually stopped. There was something absolutely enthralling about that woman. And it wasn't just how she looked or what he knew about her, much of it put together through his own sleuthing, it was how she carried herself. With confidence and ease, a sense of knowing who she was and what she was doing. He wondered if he'd ever known something so clearly, so irrefutable, that he never questioned it. To have such faith and belief in something, or someone, had to have a security like he'd never understood.
She turned away and he thought for a moment that she could offer him that. She could offer him something to believe in, to trust and rely on and put all of himself into, in this world that was never what he expected. She could give him a reason to step out of Smallville, to put his hacking to good use, to hold up the values his dad and the Kents had taught him. He wasn't sure if it was her he wanted to align himself with or what she represented, but either way he knew he had to be involved somehow. She was a woman who liked her mystery, but he'd already cracked much of the code and now it was just getting past her personal defenses.
Behind him, Lionel clinked his glass, and Oliver turned to listen.
"I'd like to thank you all for coming tonight," he began, eyes moving over the crowd and demanding attention. "I hope you're having a splendid time and that you've had a chance to reconnect with some old friends. Right now though I'd like to introduce you to someone who I hope will be a new friend, a valuable new friend. Someone I'm sure you'll be glad to have on your side. Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce to you, our Kansas State Senator and your future United States Senator… Martha Kent." He turned back to her, nodding for her to take his place as he stood back. The crowd clapped happily for her.
Martha grinned at him, walking forward to stand before the crowd. "Thank you," she said, quirking her head.
Before she could say much more, an arrow cut sharply through the air, slamming into the far wall and cutting the lights. The entire crowd gasped, turning to stare. Lowering her bow, the masked vigilante jogged easily through the crowd, her tight green leather attire emphasizing her slim, curvy body. Too shocked to do anything, the assembled group just watched, slack-jawed.
Pausing at the stage, she reached up, snapped the necklace from Martha's neck and nodded. "Thanks," she said, before backing up and making a break for it.
Though it took a moment, Oliver jumped into action, chasing after her. Running through the hallway she'd turned down, he followed her right to the window overlooking the city. Reaching out, he caught her shoulder and meant to pull her back, but she turned just in time, caught his wrist, twisted it and brought him to his knees. He wasn't hurt, but he was subdued.
Wincing, he sneered up at her. "You really think it goes with the outfit?"
She smirked slowly, the curve of her lips a tantalizing sight he'd never forget. Voice distorted, she replied, "I think I can pull it off." Jumping up onto the ledge, she tisked. "Send my regards to the Senator." And with that, she shot an arrow out the window and disappeared from sight, ascending on a zip line while he struggled to the window, looking up as she blended right in with the darkness.
Cursing, he took a step back and shook his head.
It looked like he had a meeting with one Chloe Sullivan… to get a certain diamond necklace back.
…
Standing on the ledge above the building, Chloe drew an exhilarated breath. Taking up her alter-ego gave her an adrenaline rush that every-day life could never truly match. Jogging across the roof, she stood looking out over the cityscape. Any second now, Oliver was going to warn security of her whereabouts so she needed to get out of there and pronto. It was a good thing Bart had been in town. Going to the bathroom and radioing them to abort the mission and instead get her gear to her had been risky but worth it. Thanks to Bart's superior skills on foot, he was able to grab her spare gear and get it to her in record time. While their previous decision to keep any ties to her hidden by having Bart pull it off were dashed, she was still happy they'd done what they had set out to.
Zip-lining away from the building, she barrel-rolled across another and continued on until she was on top of Sullivan Tower. Her back and shoulders were going to be aching later and she'd have to ice them for awhile, but she couldn't feel any pain for now. Taking the secured elevator to her apartment, she stepped inside and stripped off her voice distorter before crossing the room and channeling into the frequency the boys comm.'s were operating on.
"Base to Team, necklace in hand," she told them cheerfully.
"Good work," AC returned.
"I want details," Victor added.
"I'm just happy I didn't have to wear the padding," Bart snorted.
She chuckled. "Since you boys are in town, why don't you stop by and say hello before heading back home?"
"Affirmative," Victor replied. "And boss?"
"Yes?"
"You work too hard."
She smiled. "Probably."
As she sat back on her desk and rubbed a gloved finger over the necklace, she shook her head. Job well done. Her smile faded quickly, however. Her night had been going well. The boys were handling the stolen necklace and she was really starting to feel like she and Oliver were getting somewhere. Maybe it was a sign, however, that her secret life happened to intercede when it did. Even if Oliver could accept that she was a billionaire by day, he probably wasn't looking to play house with a secret hero at night. Sighing, she shook her head. It was time to stop pretending they would or could go anywhere. She was already too distracted and too busy to get involved with Mr. Drop Dead Gorgeous.
Stripping off her leather vest in a hurry, she tossed it away as if it burned. Scowling to herself, she turned, only to pause as she saw her reflection in the window. The green leather of her tight pants stood out starkly against her skin, while her upper-half, naked except for the strapless black bra she wore, seemed to represent the woman in her she so often left ignored. She'd worn lingerie beneath a whisper thin dress because for one brief moment during her day she thought maybe, just maybe, she could be a regular woman in the arms of a regular man. And she'd foiled herself, really. The guys could've gone for the necklace later or she could've had Bart do it instead of her, there were other options available. But she hadn't considered them. Maybe it wasn't her various lifestyles that were sabotaging her, but she herself. Her first chance at happiness, at a life that wasn't planned out and organized down to the last tee, and she was the one who threw the wrench in it all.
She walked away from him. She dressed in her gear and stole the necklace. She let him catch her only to bring him to his knees and smile like the proud and law-breaking vigilante she was. She chose to put the woman aside and take up the bow. And she did what she set out to; she got what she wanted. The necklace. A strike against Lionel Luthor's abundant pride.
So why was she regretting it now? Why did she want to drag that dress back on and go back to that party and search out that crooked smile and warm brown eyes and the hands that so easily swept along her body and drew her close like she belonged there in his arms? Why did she want to argue with him, convince him just how unlike the Luthors she really was, even if it meant hours upon hours of dissecting the advantages and disadvantages of money and wealth? Her body was beginning to ache already but it seemed to compare little to the lonely emptiness in her chest.
Her eyes clouded with tears as she stared at the woman gazing back at her. Shoulders set, chin lifted, she looked proud and strong and composed. Her hips and thighs hugged tight in green leather; a few healed scars along her abdomen and sides from various fights over the years. If she turned, she'd see the bruises forming along her shoulder blades from rolling hard across cement rooftops. But it was the bra she stared at, fringed in black lace. So feminine looking, so delicate against her pale skin She imagined his fingers would trace along it, skim along the tops of her breasts, taking their time, exploring. A shiver ran down her spine, her eyes fell half-lidded, and she wanted that. But at the same time, she rebelled against the thought. This was her crisis of self. Who was she really? It seemed there were three of her trapped in a body that couldn't make the decision for her. A female vigilante out to take a bite out of crime, run a multi-billion dollar eco-friendly tech business, and fall in love with an Average Joe hacker along the way? It seemed complicated. It felt complicated.
Taking a deep breath, she turned and walked up the stairs to her secret room to strip away the rest of her leather outfit. Wrapping herself in her green silk robe, she tied the knot and crossed the apartment in search of a glass of wine. Hopefully the meeting with her boys might help her make sense of things, because right now she was really damn confused.
[Next: Part V.]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Romance/Drama/Humor/Action
Ship: Chloe/Oliver
Rating: NC17
Spoiler(s): Season 6 - Arrow
Word Count: 7,288
Summary: (AU) Oliver Queen, former journalist and current computer specialist, has met his match in Chloe Sullivan, billionaire CEO and secret leather-wearing vigilante.
Previous: Part One, Part Two, Part Three,
dhfreak
IV.
Chloe stared at the print-out with furrowed brows. "What am I looking at here boys?" she asked, raising her eyes to the widescreen installed in her apartment precisely for these conference calls.
Victor and AC stared back at her, stony-faced, while Bart was jumping up and down in the background, trying to get some screen-time.
"A Luthor special… Seems he's just another name to add to the list of billionaires who love their black-market trinkets," Victor told her, half-rolling his eyes. "This diamond beauty was hard to track, but we finally got a decent lead and it led us straight back here."
"Where is it?" she wondered, peering down at the intricate design of silver and diamonds with seven figure-eight clusters that drew the eye.
"Luthorcorp vault, far as we can tell," AC replied. "The security there is high." He raised his brows seriously. "Like off-the-charts, don't go in unless you have to, high."
She smirked back at him. "That's the kind of security I live for…"
Suddenly, Bart popped up in front of the two men, almost too close to the camera. "Hey Chiquita!" He winked. "Listen, I was thinking… Me and you could do this job with our hands tied behind our backs…" He rubbed his palms together excitedly. "I run you in, you do your badass break in, I run you out, and we get Chinese after. My treat!"
Hand on top of Bart's head, Victor shoved him out of the picture. "If she signs your checks, it's her treat…" He frowned, looking back at Chloe. "And I'd prefer if we waited for somewhere that didn't have Safetex guards walking the perimeter night and day…" He raised a brow. "We want the necklace, but the last thing we need is you getting caught."
She nodded, lips pursed. "So what's your plan?"
AC grinned. "Luthor Senior is having that bash for Senator Kent in a few days… Most of Safetex is going to be there, keeping an eye on him and everybody else…" He shrugged. "We go in, get the necklace, and they're too far away to get to us in time… Perfect window of opportunity."
She nodded. "I would agree if I wasn't personally invited by the senator herself," she sighed.
"So skip it," Bart scoffed. "Or make an appearance after the heist."
"No, that's… It's too suspicious," she denied, shaking her head.
"Or maybe there's somebody at this fancy shindig that you're hoping to run into…" Victor speculated.
Chloe glared back. "My personal business will never interfere with this, and you know that…" She stared at him seriously. "Look, you and Bart can pull this off. If anything, it only adds to my alibi if I'm seen canoodling with Metropolis' richest while this is happening halfway across the city…"
AC crossed his arms, nodding thoughtfully. "No, that makes sense… People are going to start drawing parallels. This string of robberies only started happening after you showed up in town and they might start looking back to Star City for clues…" He looked back at the others and then to the screen. "Bart's your height and with a little padding, he might even pull of looking like a very feminine vigilante…" He grinned widely.
"Padding? Why would I need-" The short speedster looked down at himself and scowled. "Man…"
Chloe chuckled. "I believe in you, Impulse. I'm sure you'll represent me accordingly."
With a shrug, he replied, "Babe, I'll make you look good!"
Victor snorted. "Now that we have that all worked out…" He quirked a brow back at the camera. "How's Metropolis?"
"Fine… Busy…" She frowned. "I'll be happy to get back to Star City."
"Really?" he asked, skeptical.
She rolled her eyes. "Really…"
"We heard you might have a new guy in your life, boss," AC interrupted, looking too innocent. "Bart's been moping ever since."
Chloe glared at Victor and then looked back at AC. "I do not have a new man in my life. I think my life has proven to be a testosterone overload as it is," she assured, rising from her seat at the edge of her desk. "Now if we could please stop discussing my nonexistent love life…" She waved the picture of the necklace at them. "I want blueprints of Luthorcorp, the safe and everything you can get me on Safetex. I don't want you guys going in there blind and if I'm not going to be there with you, I really don't want to have to worry all night…"
Returning to work mode, the three men nodded. "On it," they agreed.
"I'm thinking pizza will really get us in a snooping mood," Bart decided. "Anybody else?"
Victor sighed, rolling his eyes. "You just ate!"
"Dude, that was like… forever ago."
"It was a half hour," he muttered through grit-teeth.
"Yeah…" Bart emphasized, nodding. "I'm starving!"
"You're-"
AC quirked a smile, watching as they started arguing in the background before looking to the camera once more. "You really sure you miss all this?"
Chloe smiled brightly back. "You have no idea."
He nodded. "You can come home anytime, you know? Or send the jet…" He shrugged. "I'm always up for a visit."
"Away from your ocean?" she wondered, a little surprised.
"They've got water in Metropolis, Chlo…" He smiled lightly. "And besides, I'm missing what little sanity there is in this group. If I'm left with them much longer, I might just convert and join in."
She laughed. "Please, don't. You're the only adult I have left."
He chuckled. "I gotta go break up that fight and apparently order pizza… Call us if you need us," he told her, raising a brow meaningfully.
She nodded. "I will."
He reached up to the camera, winked farewell, and disconnected.
Chloe stared back at the blue screen a moment and sighed. Somehow, chaos and pizza sounded a lot better than expensive Chinese take-out and a whole lot of paperwork. What an exciting life she lived, she thought derisively.
…
"I thought you were taking Lois," Oliver said through a mouthful of turkey sandwich. Having been called over to the Kent farm and only a stomach full of coffee to sustain him, his mouth had literally watered at the sight of Mrs. K's cooking. At Martha's frown, he smiled sheepishly, swallowed, and wiped his mouth with the provided napkin. "Sorry… But I thought Lois was getting excited to join you at that benefit thing… Something about charming the masses with her wit and style." He rolled his eyes. "Obviously Clark's not gonna be there, 'cause when he's around Lois gets even crazier." He even used the rolling finger next to his temple for emphasis.
Martha chuckled, waving a dishtowel at him admonishingly. "Well you seemed to enjoy yourself last time and to be honest, sometimes I feel like I have to babysit Lois… Make sure she isn't saying the worst thing to the worst person…" She shrugged. "I love her and I'll invite her into the family with open arms, but sometimes I really wish I had the ability to know what she was going to say before she said it."
He laughed deeply. "Ignoring the fact that I'm pretty sure you just admitted you think Lois is going to be your future daughter-in-law, I have to agree. That power would've definitely come in handy when we were growing up…"
"I can imagine," she agreed, reaching over to top off his glass of milk.
He eyed the plate in front of him, overflowing with a thick turkey sandwich with all the trimmings. "Are you trying to bribe me, Mrs. K?"
She grinned. "Is it working?"
"A little," he admitted playfully. "Not to burst the bubble, Lois can be a handful, but I'm not exactly the best person to introduce to a roomful of backers either… I was on my best behavior last time, but I think we both know I'm not a fan of the wealthy."
"Really? Because I was under the impression a certain young woman had changed your mind even a little," she reminded, eyes narrowed knowingly.
He sighed, resting his arms on the island tabletop. "You're meddling again, aren't you?" He shook his head. "I knew Clark was gonna take awhile to get it together with Lois, so when those two started dating I knew you had something to do with it… But this…" His gaze narrowed. "Tell me, did you look her up before that night or did inspiration strike then and there and you just had to get the ball rolling?"
Grinning happily, Martha shrugged. "I'd met Chloe before, briefly. She'd spoken to me about becoming a backer and I was honestly charmed by her… She's a sweetheart, Ollie, and you know, she… She reminded me of myself at that age in some ways… She certainly had a lot more opportunities and she's got a lot on her plate, but she pays attention to what's important." She stared at him searchingly. "That night, when we made that bet and I saw her, I just thought… It makes sense." She shrugged a shoulder. "And I stick by that. If you could've seen her face when we talked the other day at lunch… When I brought you up, she-" She smiled. "She lit right up."
"Yeah, I heard about that…" he scoffed. "Apparently you made me sound like a prepubescent boy who just figured out girls don't have cooties…"
Her eyes brightened, widening. "You've talked since?"
"Mrs. K…" he groaned, tossing his napkin aside. "Look, I'll be the first to admit that Chloe is… different… in a really great way. Even Lois says I need to get over this whole money-doesn't-make-a-person spiel. But she… I…" He sighed. "She's stockholders and fancy balls and I'm a one-man computer specialist who has to rent a suit when his best friend's mom needs a cheap date… That really doesn't speak equality to me." He frowned.
"Those are material things, Oliver," she sighed. "What matters is what's going on inside a person, not outside… Just because she grew up with money and wealth and fame doesn't mean she can't understand your struggles… You was alone most of her life, she lost her parents very young, I'd lay money on the fact that she's not like any regular billionaire… But you'll never really know until you stop looking at her like she has a dollar sign stuck to her forehead."
Blowing out a long breath, he hung his head. "Lois said something like that, only less nice."
She laughed lightly. "For all her snark, Lois is a very smart girl…"
Having known Lois all his life, he smiled agreeably. She had her moments where common sense seemed to completely abandon her, but overall, she was still smarter than the average Joe any day. And while she might not have said it with Martha's soft nudging, she had got it right. He glanced up at her and frowned to himself. "Do you think I'm wrong…? The way I see people, the world… How I look at wealth?"
She stared at him a long moment. "I think, like Jonathon, that you have some prejudices… I also think that comes from growing up in a family where you have to work hard and not always see it pay off…" She smiled sadly. "I can't count how many times we nearly lost the farm and Jonathon wanted to blame it on Lionel… And maybe he did have something to do with it." She shook her head. "I know he was willing to buy the land for dirt cheap and he had no problem taking it from us… But it's not always the billionaire who lives down the block that's calling the shots. Sometimes it's the economy or outside problems and blaming them all on an easy target makes sense for awhile…" She stared down at the countertop a moment. "But living your life that way, assuming the worst of anyone with money because you want to blame them for whatever bad might've happened… It's not fair to you or anyone else." Reaching out, she patted his hand. "Oliver, your dad has worked hard his whole life and I know that Luthorcorp doesn't value him as much as you think it should… But we all make our own choices, have our own sacrifices, and we can't force those on anybody else…" She shrugged her shoulders. "Robert likes his job; it's why he stays… He wanted better for you though, it's why he's never brought up open job positions at Luthorcorp, he's just praised you for going your own way…" She squeezed his hand lightly. "Until you get out there and see the world, you can't label everybody the same."
"And you think Chloe's going to change my mind?" he wondered, brow raised skeptically.
"I think she's already changing things for you… I think she's surprised you in ways you never expected." She grinned. "And yes, I think she could open your eyes a little more to the world as a whole."
His lips pursed. "That's just it though; we come from very different worlds and frankly…" He sighed, shaking his head, "I'm not sure how they're supposed to meet."
"I think the first step is realizing that it's not a different world, just a different background." She smiled. "She may not have grown up like you and maybe she doesn't see life the same way you do, but that doesn't mean you don't have things in common or that you can't find something in each other that makes everything else pale in comparison."
"You're a romantic," he told her, unable to contain a smile.
"And I'm not wrong," she told him seriously, brows hiked for emphasis. "When I met Jonathon, I was a city girl who didn't want anything to do with the country or settling down or any of it. But sometimes, you meet the right person and suddenly those things you think are wrong for you… aren't. It was just the timing." She sighed. "Chloe might be a billionaire, she might be one of the most recognized faces of America, but she's also just a woman, a lonely woman, who deserves more than just tax brackets and Armani suits." She stared at him seriously "Oliver… You're more than just a small-town boy… You've got your computers and your company and you know that there is life outside of Smallville… Are you really sure you're not cut out to be a part of her life, or are you just afraid of leaving your safe little bubble?"
"Hate to break it to you, Mrs. K, but safe is not the word I'd use for anything Smallville-related."
She rolled her eyes at his cheekiness. "You know what I mean…"
"I like her, I'll admit that. A lot…" He sighed, shaking his head. "But I don't belong up in her ivory tower…"
"Maybe she doesn't either… Maybe her life is more than just money and business…" She shook her head. "Or maybe you two could make a life somewhere in the middle." She smiled knowingly. "You'll never know until you try."
He frowned, brows knotted.
"The benefit's Wednesday at seven… Chloe's promised to be there and Lionel is sending a car at five so we'll be on time… I've already had your suit dry-cleaned." As she walked past, she paused to squeeze his shoulder. "Trust me on this."
As she left, he stared down at his delicious and tempting half-eaten sandwich. "This is your fault," he muttered. But with the knowledge that he'd be seeing Chloe in a few days, he couldn't help his grin.
…
Chloe winced as a pin hit her hip and not the thin red fabric it was meant to. At least the blood would blend in.
"I-I'm so sorry," the seamstress apologized, cringing. Wringing her hands and readjusting her glasses, she jumped up to a standing position and gaped at Chloe. "That-That won't happen again, I prom-"
She rolled her eyes. Seriously, she was not going to have the girl fired for accidentally poking her with a needle. "Given how thin the fabric is, I'm really not surprised…" She ran her hands down her sides. It was soft, yes, but she felt basically naked wearing it. And for the price she was paying, she thought fashion may well be a more lucrative business than she suspected. Glancing back at the girl, she teased lightly, "Although, I already hit the blood drive up, so if we could avoid anymore unnecessary letting…?"
The girl offered up a baffled smile. "Y-Yes, of course."
"Can I just ask what has you so worried I'm going to transform into dragon-lady and bite your head off… um…" She shook her head. "I'm sorry; I didn't get your name."
"Oh! Uh, it-it's Beth." She smiled
Chloe nodded. "Okay, Beth then… Look, I promise I can take a little poking and prodding. Besides, I pretty much begged you guys to have a dress made especially for this occasion and on short notice too," she reminded.
"Oh, um, it's not… It's not you, really. I-I mean it's not like there's gossip or anything. Well, I mean, there is… There's a lot of gossip," she babbled. "But most of it, about you anyway, is good!" Her brows hiked high on her forehead for emphasis. "It's just working here, day in and day out, for a lot of people who really don't appreciate the fine details of having a dress custom made…" She blew out a sigh of irritation, pacing around the podium as she eyed the fabric swathing Chloe's body. "I never mean to draw blood, although sometimes I wouldn't mind getting a little stab in here or there but-" She stopped, mortified. "Oh my goodness, please don't tell my boss I said, well, any of that… I don't want to lose my job and those people, I-They-They're probably your friends and-"
"Don't worry about it." Chloe chuckled, waving it off. "Trust me; nobody you're talking about is my friend… I have three of those and they're all men who would never set foot in this store… No offense." She grinned. "They prefer sneakers and jeans, and to be frank, so do I." She shrugged. "But duty calls and I've got this benefit in a couple days…" She shook her head. "Some part of me really wants to skip it…" She chewed her lip anxiously, "and another part is excited in a way I've never been before, so…"
"A guy?" Beth asked, seeming to find her confidence. She slid a couple more pins between her lips before she knelt to play with the fabric at the hem. "Hey, do you by chance know Ryan Gosling?"
She smiled down at her. "Unfortunately, no… Although I've heard he's a really nice guy."
"He's definitely nice to look at." She slid a few pins in carefully. "Anyway, you were saying… There's a good looking guy at this benefit, right?" She winked up at her. "I know the signs."
"He's… Drop-dead gorgeous," she admitted, honestly. Blowing out a sigh, she shook her head. "But he's not really… my type?" She screwed up her eyes.
"Are you asking or telling?" Beth stood up and cocked her head.
"Well, I… I've never really had a type… but I guess I expected it to be more like my dad…"
"Who judging by the price-tag on this fabric is probably pretty wealthy…" she mused, eyes wide.
She nodded. "He was," she agreed, thinking back. "But that wasn't… It wasn't the money that made him. He was…" She smiled gently, remembering her dad's smile and the way he tried so hard to make her laugh at the most ridiculous of things. How goofy and lighthearted and sweet he could be. "He was such a good man. Kind and fun and funny…" She inhaled deeply. "He never really cared about money." She shook her head. "But I guess that's easy to say that when you have billions."
"I wouldn't know," the girl admitted, shrugging.
"And this guy, this very handsome and charming guy, he… He's not a billionaire and he doesn't really hang around with the same crowd as I do, but…" Her eyes softened. "He gets me, I think. Or he could get me… Like in a way that the people I do hang around with, work associates and Fortune 500 club members, would never understand…" She shook her head. "Only he's so stuck on thinking I'm just like them, all the while I'm thinking I'm more like him, and it's just…" She threw her head back. "You know, before romance made its grand and abrupt entrance into my life, I didn't have such a headache!"
Beth giggled. "Sometimes it's worth it…" She looked up and wiggled her hand at Chloe, a small diamond ring winking back. "He's a pizza delivery guy and he doesn't know the first thing about tailoring anything, but he's my other half and I wouldn't trade him in for, well, Ryan Gosling." She grinned. "I think when you find it you should just… take it! If he doesn't know you're not like the others, show him… And if he still doesn't get it, then he was just the introduction to the world of romance, and you'll find the right guy soon enough." She stood, hands on her hips, and nodded. "Now this… This is your dress…" Taking Chloe's hips, she turned her toward the mirror. "And Mr. Drop Dead Gorgeous is gonna lose his mind!"
Chloe stared at herself in the mirror and nodded. "I think you're right."
On a few accounts, she added to herself.
…
Days later, Oliver walked into the hall Lionel was holding his meet and greet benefit for the Senator. When he and Martha stepped into the room, eyes widened. He was fairly sure gossip mongers had dubbed him Martha's young plaything and while he loved Mrs. K like the mother he wished he had growing up, he honestly got a little sick to his stomach whenever the very idea was brought up. Besides, she was half-way into a relationship with Lionel Luthor; which Oliver was pretty sure was the worst idea ever, but had no say so he kept his mouth shut. Regardless, Martha looked beautiful, and she was sure to win over the crowd and have them backing her in the coming senate race, which was far more important than the beautiful blonde billionaire he hadn't been able to get off his mind since meeting her.
Still, his eyes scanned the crowd, searching out that halo of golden waves and striking green eyes. He was taking Lois' advice and trying to treat her like he would any other woman who managed to make him feel like the world was spinning out of control beneath his feet… Which would be no woman before her so he didn't have the best platform for walking into the situation at hand. He was also taking Martha's words to heart and doing his best to keep an open mind and stop assuming the worst. Given he was a Smallville native, assuming the worst was pretty much what he breathed.
As Martha squeezed his arm and then pointed out someone she wanted to talk to, he nodded to her and then returned to his main mission in coming to this swanky party in the first place. Find Chloe. Like the universe had heard him and was willing to do him one last favor, the people parted, a sea of tuxedos and gowns separated down the middle. And that was when he spotted her.
Grinning, his eyes narrowed. She was speaking to an older gentleman with thick glasses and his much younger wife; a woman who was looking Chloe up and down like she wanted to claw her eyes out. As Chloe reached out and squeezed the older man's arm in farewell, she nodded once at the young wife and then turned to leave, only slowing her steps as Oliver appeared in her line of sight. She tipped her head in hello. "Oliver Queen… Am I to assume Martha's arrived?"
He glanced over at his pseudo-date who was deeply engaged in conversation with someone he didn't recognize off-hand. "And charming the room as we speak."
Chloe turned to see Martha and then paused, staring a long moment, her brows furrowed. Her fingers fluttered up to her throat thoughtfully and then she turned to him and smiled distractedly. "Good… With any luck, her pockets will be lined with support by the end of the night..." Shaking it off, she nodded back at the couple she'd been talking to and said, "Mr. Westcott's already talking about her like an old friend. Good sign, I think."
"Here's hoping," he agreed. He took a moment to take her in; gone were the pencil skirt and blouse and back was the dress. Red this time. Shorter than the last, it fell to just above her knees, showing off long, attractive legs. Shiny, strapless and satin-like, it wrapped around her curvy body, making her the picture of feminine confidence.
Hearing the light piano playing in the background and just about ready to offer up his first born for the chance to touch her, he thanked fate for his second favor. Raising a hand, palm up, he asked, "Dance?"
She looked around briefly, seeing a few couples enjoying the pastime and then eyed him wonderingly. He wondered for a moment if she might turn him down, but then her lips twitched. "Should I be worried about my toes?"
He grinned. "I'll try my best not to crush them."
With a light laugh, she took his hand and grinned widely as he twirled her easily into his arms. "Looks like you have moves, Mr. Queen."
He shrugged with fake modesty. "Mrs. K taught me when I was younger… It was my first school dance and I had two left feet."
"Hard to imagine," she mused, sidling in close so their bodies seemed to brush with each step.
He inhaled deeply as his smile waivered. His hand skimmed of its own accord away from her hip and up the expanse of her back, sweeping up near the nape of her neck, her soft blonde curls tickling him, before falling low to the small of her back. Her skin was so soft he could hardly tell the difference between it and her whisper-thin dress. Thinking on it too much was going to make things entirely too awkward, however, and so he tried to focus on her face and not the sultry sway of her body against his. But with each breath, he was inhaling her and with each beat of the song it seemed they got impossibly closer. In that moment, there were no bank statements, no deep dark secrets, nothing but two people breathing the same air.
She shivered in his embrace, staring up at him from beneath long lashes, her eyes shimmering a deep green. His jaw ticked as he fought the desire to reach down and taste her lips, to see if it might change her mossy eyes to a dark forest shade. She let out a puff of air as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. "Did you wow the crowd at your dance?" she wondered.
He winked at her. "What do you think?"
She laughed breathily. "I'm sure the girls were falling all over themselves for that smile..." Her hand slipped away from his shoulder and light touched his chin, her nail tracing the cleft. A shudder of awareness slid through him and he couldn't help but want her hands to trace every other ridge of his body. Arousal settled heavy in his stomach. The way her eyes fell hooded said she was feeling something very similar. "You were probably quite the lady killer in your high school."
He shrugged lightly. "I did all right."
She arched a brow as if she expected all right wasn't the half of it.
"To be honest, I spent a lot of my time chasing down leads and avoiding being killed," he admitted. And if that wasn't too honest for a pair of people who'd only spoken three times, he didn't know what was.
She laughed shortly. "And I thought Excelsior was tough."
He smiled and wondered if she should be classified as less than sane for not bothering to wonder why a statement like that wasn't worth getting far, far away from him. He always did attract the crazier of the bunch. He couldn't say this time was a disappointment, however. "Smallville grows on you… I think I might almost miss being target practice."
"Really?" she asked, brows furrowed.
"Maybe miss is a strong word…" He grinned. "Most of my work is here in Metropolis and I should probably make the move but…" He shook his head. "I guess I never really found any reason to…"
"And what reason are you looking for?" she wondered, lightly smoothing her palm across his shoulder. It was a relaxing gesture, but every muscle in his body seemed to tighten and react. "What motivates Oliver Queen?"
"Once upon a time, I thought all I ever needed was coffee and Wi-Fi…" he admitted quietly, staring at her seriously.
"Once upon a time?"
He nodded. "And then one night a week ago changes everything…"
She stared at him a long moment and for a second he thought the rest of the room might have faded away entirely. It was just them, just green eyes meeting brown, just two bodies moving in sync across a marble floor, just stuttering breaths and fast heartbeats and the desire coiling in his stomach, desperate to reach out and touch her. And he wasn't wrong that she was feeling the same; it wasn't just him that was fighting against the heat coursing through his blood. She was pressed up so close he swore he could feel her heart hammering through her breast.
Finally, as if catching herself, she darted her gaze down. With a hesitant smile, she raised a brow at him with speculative humor. "So what's your preference? Older women or boring parties?"
Some part of him wanted to ignore the easy out, to let this moment go deeper. But then the rest of the room came back into focus and the music stopped. With some effort, he managed to let go of her, letting his hand graze along her body as long as possible before it fell uselessly at his side.
He forced a low chuckle in answer of her lighthearted dig. "Martha's a family friend. My cousin was supposed to come along but Martha asked me to go instead…" He shrugged. "It's not usually my scene and I probably would've said no but… Frankly, I don't trust your friends to treat her as well as she deserves."
Her grin widened. "Then you have good instincts…" She began walking, slowing enough to encourage him to walk in-step with her. "I get the impression you don't like money… Or at least not when certain people have large quantities of it."
Tucking his arms behind his back, he moved in sync with her. "Sometimes I can't help but think that if we were all on an even playing field, we wouldn't treat each other as though we were so expendable."
"You grew up in middle-America farm country, Oliver…" She cocked a brow. "Was everybody so accepting of each other or was their still dissention among the masses?"
He half-frowned. "I guess in high school we all had our cliques… Ran with our own crowds."
"You know why that is? Because hierarchy is natural." She shrugged her bare shoulders and he wanted too much to reach out and touch them. "It's not always fair or nice, but it's everywhere… You put three people together and one will lead, one will follow, and one will argue." She turned, staring up at him. "Money is just one more reason for us to fight to be on top. Take it away and we'll find another."
"But if you have money, if you're at the top of the pyramid, why lord it over those who don't? Why not do everything in your power to bring peace?" He stared at her searchingly, as if he honestly expected her to know, to explain it to him.
Her lips smoothed into a faint frown and he found himself missing her smile.
"Have you ever wondered if it's not the money that bothers you, but the power?" She turned then, searching through the crowd and pausing as she found Lionel. "I would bet my entire company that if even if he had only a dime to his name, he would find a way to keep the power…" Looking back at him, she said, "What we have or own or what our bank statements might say doesn't make a person… It's what we do and believe and feel…"
"And for those who think only of themselves…? Who strip the world of what good it has left for their own means?" He lifted a brow. "Who steal that power at whatever the cost? What happens to them?"
"Karma," she answered with a winsome smile. "Fortune favors the bold, Mr. Queen… If you do nothing, nothing changes." Her eyes shot to the side then and then lowered. "Your date's about to make a speech. I think I'll visit the powder room while Lionel wins over the crowd." With a wink, she turned on her heel and fled for the restrooms.
He watched her go, the sensual sway of her hips catching his eye. She glanced over her shoulder and he thought his heart actually stopped. There was something absolutely enthralling about that woman. And it wasn't just how she looked or what he knew about her, much of it put together through his own sleuthing, it was how she carried herself. With confidence and ease, a sense of knowing who she was and what she was doing. He wondered if he'd ever known something so clearly, so irrefutable, that he never questioned it. To have such faith and belief in something, or someone, had to have a security like he'd never understood.
She turned away and he thought for a moment that she could offer him that. She could offer him something to believe in, to trust and rely on and put all of himself into, in this world that was never what he expected. She could give him a reason to step out of Smallville, to put his hacking to good use, to hold up the values his dad and the Kents had taught him. He wasn't sure if it was her he wanted to align himself with or what she represented, but either way he knew he had to be involved somehow. She was a woman who liked her mystery, but he'd already cracked much of the code and now it was just getting past her personal defenses.
Behind him, Lionel clinked his glass, and Oliver turned to listen.
"I'd like to thank you all for coming tonight," he began, eyes moving over the crowd and demanding attention. "I hope you're having a splendid time and that you've had a chance to reconnect with some old friends. Right now though I'd like to introduce you to someone who I hope will be a new friend, a valuable new friend. Someone I'm sure you'll be glad to have on your side. Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce to you, our Kansas State Senator and your future United States Senator… Martha Kent." He turned back to her, nodding for her to take his place as he stood back. The crowd clapped happily for her.
Martha grinned at him, walking forward to stand before the crowd. "Thank you," she said, quirking her head.
Before she could say much more, an arrow cut sharply through the air, slamming into the far wall and cutting the lights. The entire crowd gasped, turning to stare. Lowering her bow, the masked vigilante jogged easily through the crowd, her tight green leather attire emphasizing her slim, curvy body. Too shocked to do anything, the assembled group just watched, slack-jawed.
Pausing at the stage, she reached up, snapped the necklace from Martha's neck and nodded. "Thanks," she said, before backing up and making a break for it.
Though it took a moment, Oliver jumped into action, chasing after her. Running through the hallway she'd turned down, he followed her right to the window overlooking the city. Reaching out, he caught her shoulder and meant to pull her back, but she turned just in time, caught his wrist, twisted it and brought him to his knees. He wasn't hurt, but he was subdued.
Wincing, he sneered up at her. "You really think it goes with the outfit?"
She smirked slowly, the curve of her lips a tantalizing sight he'd never forget. Voice distorted, she replied, "I think I can pull it off." Jumping up onto the ledge, she tisked. "Send my regards to the Senator." And with that, she shot an arrow out the window and disappeared from sight, ascending on a zip line while he struggled to the window, looking up as she blended right in with the darkness.
Cursing, he took a step back and shook his head.
It looked like he had a meeting with one Chloe Sullivan… to get a certain diamond necklace back.
…
Standing on the ledge above the building, Chloe drew an exhilarated breath. Taking up her alter-ego gave her an adrenaline rush that every-day life could never truly match. Jogging across the roof, she stood looking out over the cityscape. Any second now, Oliver was going to warn security of her whereabouts so she needed to get out of there and pronto. It was a good thing Bart had been in town. Going to the bathroom and radioing them to abort the mission and instead get her gear to her had been risky but worth it. Thanks to Bart's superior skills on foot, he was able to grab her spare gear and get it to her in record time. While their previous decision to keep any ties to her hidden by having Bart pull it off were dashed, she was still happy they'd done what they had set out to.
Zip-lining away from the building, she barrel-rolled across another and continued on until she was on top of Sullivan Tower. Her back and shoulders were going to be aching later and she'd have to ice them for awhile, but she couldn't feel any pain for now. Taking the secured elevator to her apartment, she stepped inside and stripped off her voice distorter before crossing the room and channeling into the frequency the boys comm.'s were operating on.
"Base to Team, necklace in hand," she told them cheerfully.
"Good work," AC returned.
"I want details," Victor added.
"I'm just happy I didn't have to wear the padding," Bart snorted.
She chuckled. "Since you boys are in town, why don't you stop by and say hello before heading back home?"
"Affirmative," Victor replied. "And boss?"
"Yes?"
"You work too hard."
She smiled. "Probably."
As she sat back on her desk and rubbed a gloved finger over the necklace, she shook her head. Job well done. Her smile faded quickly, however. Her night had been going well. The boys were handling the stolen necklace and she was really starting to feel like she and Oliver were getting somewhere. Maybe it was a sign, however, that her secret life happened to intercede when it did. Even if Oliver could accept that she was a billionaire by day, he probably wasn't looking to play house with a secret hero at night. Sighing, she shook her head. It was time to stop pretending they would or could go anywhere. She was already too distracted and too busy to get involved with Mr. Drop Dead Gorgeous.
Stripping off her leather vest in a hurry, she tossed it away as if it burned. Scowling to herself, she turned, only to pause as she saw her reflection in the window. The green leather of her tight pants stood out starkly against her skin, while her upper-half, naked except for the strapless black bra she wore, seemed to represent the woman in her she so often left ignored. She'd worn lingerie beneath a whisper thin dress because for one brief moment during her day she thought maybe, just maybe, she could be a regular woman in the arms of a regular man. And she'd foiled herself, really. The guys could've gone for the necklace later or she could've had Bart do it instead of her, there were other options available. But she hadn't considered them. Maybe it wasn't her various lifestyles that were sabotaging her, but she herself. Her first chance at happiness, at a life that wasn't planned out and organized down to the last tee, and she was the one who threw the wrench in it all.
She walked away from him. She dressed in her gear and stole the necklace. She let him catch her only to bring him to his knees and smile like the proud and law-breaking vigilante she was. She chose to put the woman aside and take up the bow. And she did what she set out to; she got what she wanted. The necklace. A strike against Lionel Luthor's abundant pride.
So why was she regretting it now? Why did she want to drag that dress back on and go back to that party and search out that crooked smile and warm brown eyes and the hands that so easily swept along her body and drew her close like she belonged there in his arms? Why did she want to argue with him, convince him just how unlike the Luthors she really was, even if it meant hours upon hours of dissecting the advantages and disadvantages of money and wealth? Her body was beginning to ache already but it seemed to compare little to the lonely emptiness in her chest.
Her eyes clouded with tears as she stared at the woman gazing back at her. Shoulders set, chin lifted, she looked proud and strong and composed. Her hips and thighs hugged tight in green leather; a few healed scars along her abdomen and sides from various fights over the years. If she turned, she'd see the bruises forming along her shoulder blades from rolling hard across cement rooftops. But it was the bra she stared at, fringed in black lace. So feminine looking, so delicate against her pale skin She imagined his fingers would trace along it, skim along the tops of her breasts, taking their time, exploring. A shiver ran down her spine, her eyes fell half-lidded, and she wanted that. But at the same time, she rebelled against the thought. This was her crisis of self. Who was she really? It seemed there were three of her trapped in a body that couldn't make the decision for her. A female vigilante out to take a bite out of crime, run a multi-billion dollar eco-friendly tech business, and fall in love with an Average Joe hacker along the way? It seemed complicated. It felt complicated.
Taking a deep breath, she turned and walked up the stairs to her secret room to strip away the rest of her leather outfit. Wrapping herself in her green silk robe, she tied the knot and crossed the apartment in search of a glass of wine. Hopefully the meeting with her boys might help her make sense of things, because right now she was really damn confused.
[Next: Part V.]