An Origin Story: 5/23
Author: BlueSuede
Title: An Origin Story
Rating: R/M
Genre: Friendship/Romance
Pairings: Chloe/Oliver
Summary: AU in which Oliver's parents never died
Warnings: minor spoilers for most early seasons
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Prologue
Previous (Chapter 4)
Next (Chapter 6)
Chapter 5:
Eating, Drinking, and Making Merry
"Explain to me again why you're not here with someone," Bruce said amusedly, watching his own date flirt with a B-rated movie star at the other end of the room.
"Didn't want to upset Mother," Oliver joked ruefully. "Explain to me what you're doing in Star City?"
Bruce shrugged, sipping his drink. "It's for a good cause. I received an invitation. And here I thought you'd be so thrilled to see me. I'm hurt." He raised an eyebrow at Oliver that suggested the opposite.
Oliver rolled his eyes. "How are things in Gotham, anyway? I hear you've been having some trouble with the police."
Bruce grimaced. "You wouldn't believe it. You'd think they'd be a bit more grateful considering I'm doing their jobs for them."
Oliver laughed. "Ain't it always the way?"
Bruce shook his head. "You're just lucky mummy and daddy haven't figured out that you're going out after curfew."
Oliver knew to step carefully around that remark. Bruce might be giving a lighthearted jab at the moment, but Oliver knew exactly how Bruce felt about parents. He was actually quite fond of Robert and Laura, who had in many ways been there for him growing up. He was spared replying when Bruce laughed.
"Okay, that's got to be the cutest thing I've ever seen." Oliver followed the direction of Bruce's gaze and spotted the blonde reporter from the Gazette, who looked positively stunning in the plum-colored silk dress she was wearing, dancing with her red-headed companion from the other day. The young man was clearly having trouble, and was visibly counting out the beats of the music as he stared down at their feet. Oliver grinned, watching them. Chloe seemed undeterred by her partner's inabilities. She was grinning, amused, and helping him out, leading him more than anything. "Later," Bruce said, and Oliver was hit in the chest by Bruce's drink as he handed it off. Oliver rolled his eyes as Bruce went over to the pair dancing.
"Mind if I cut in?" Bruce offered gallantly. Chloe looked up, startled. Jeremy looked relieved and disappointed at the same time.
"No problem," Jeremy said, lingering just long enough to get a photograph of Bruce Wayne offering Chloe his hand before taking off.
Chloe watched him go ruefully, shaking her head at him. "I just hope he took the lens cap off." she joked.
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "I was just about to ask if I should call child services on you or not, but I take it by the camera that you're from a paper?"
"The Gazette," Chloe smiled.
Bruce nodded. "Good for you. I'm Bruce, by the way."
"Chloe Sullivan," she smiled, noting what a good dancer he was. It was a relief to have someone else take the lead after her attempt to make Jeremy dance with her. He'd insisted that he didn't know how, and Chloe had insisted right back that she would teach him. Still, all in all, it was more fun to dance with someone who knew what he was doing, she thought as Bruce spun her gracefully outward before drawing her back into him. Chloe flushed slightly. He was very handsome, with dark hair and dark brown eyes that spoke of deep inner workings. She'd seen those kind of eyes before.
Bruce might not know it, but Chloe had long ago put together his life as Batman. It hadn't been difficult, not for her. She'd read all the articles in the Gotham Post about Batman and put together the patterns, not fooled by the alibi stories occasionally rendered to throw people off the trail.
She was again beginning to wonder why yet another masked hero had somehow found her even miles from his home city when Bruce spoke, "You look very lost in thought."
She laughed. "I'm sorry. I was just thinking that I'm probably missing an invaluable opportunity to interview you. I have trouble turning my reporter brain off."
He grinned. "Well, I'll give you three questions. How's that? You are here on business, I suppose."
Chloe looked ecstatic. "That's marvelous. Let me see...How do you respond to the allegations that Wayne Enterprises is bowing under the weight of the poor economy?"
"I'd say that every business is going to take some hits with the current state of things, but that overall the company is taking things in stride, and I expect us to come out of this on top."
"What about the rumors that there will be a mass lay off in the near future?"
"Not to my knowledge. We're doing our best to create more jobs where possible."
Chloe was about to ask another business question but she couldn't resist something entirely different. "What's your personal opinion on the activities of a certain masked vigilante known as Batman?"
She was impressed to see that he maintained a poker face. "I'd say that he should let the police handle police work."
Chloe raised an eyebrow, smirking. "And to those who think that the police in Gotham aren't doing their job, which is exactly why there's a need for Batman?"
Bruce grinned in response, but shook his head. "'fraid not, Miss Sullivan. You've used up your three."
The song came to an end just as he was saying this, and Chloe feigned more disappointment at not getting an answer than she felt.
"Can I get you a drink?" he offered, guiding her toward the refreshments.
Chloe smirked. "Don't you have a date somewhere, Mr. Wayne?"
"Bruce," he corrected. "And yes, but I think she's currently engaged," he glanced in that direction to make sure he was right. He was.
Chloe smiled amusedly. "Well then, lead me on, Bruce."
Though she really should have, she wasn't expecting him to lead her over to Oliver Queen, who irritably handed Bruce his drink back.
"Next time I'm spiking it with something," he warned. He turned to Chloe and grinned. "Miss Sullivan. Always a pleasure to see you."
"You two know each other?" Bruce questioned, offering Chloe a glass of champagne.
"We've met," Chloe grinned, eyes dancing. Oliver was a bit distracted. He'd been watching her dance with Bruce, and couldn't help but notice she was far prettier than he'd remembered. The couple of times they'd met previously, she'd been all business. It was amazing the difference it made to see her so dressed up, letting her hair down-so to speak.
"Have you?" Bruce asked humorously, glancing at Oliver in surprise. "Well, anyway, I'm thinking it's only fair that since you got to ask me three questions, that I get to interrogate you."
Chloe raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "All right."
But just as Bruce was opening his mouth, he was distracted by the sound of his phone. He flipped it open, and his face became slightly grim as he read the message. "I'm terribly sorry, something's come up, and I've got to go."
Bruce Wayne was lucky that he was one of few men from whom Chloe would accept such a vague excuse from. "That's all right. I don't mind. What about your date?"
"I'll take care of it," muttered Oliver, hoping Chloe wouldn't hear.
Bruce shrugged. "I doubt she'll notice I'm gone until she goes looking for a ride. Oliver," he nodded to his friend. "Miss Sullivan," he grinned, kissing her hand farewell and causing Chloe to blush. "It was an absolute pleasure. I hope to see you again."
"It's Chloe," she said politely.
He smiled and was gone. Oliver, anxious to distract Chloe from the reason for Bruce's sudden departure, seized conversation. "So he gets to call you by your first name? I'm hurt."
Chloe grinned at him. "I never said you couldn't call me Chloe. You just assumed."
Oliver looked genuinely surprised by the response. "I'm flattered. So, how's the research going? I assume that's why you're here with the kid?"
Chloe grinned, scanning the room for her so-called date. "Of course. Jeremy is the best photographer the Gazette has. We just don't tell him for fear it will go to his head," she laughed, and Oliver wasn't sure if she was joking or not. "I figured I'd scoop him up for this, give him a little extra experience."
"And in the meantime, you didn't have to find a date," he finished shrewdly.
Chloe glanced at him, a knowing smile on her face. "Am I that obvious? Still, I'm relatively new in town," she rattled off her excuse. "Don't know that many people yet."
"Well you've been here for at least a month, haven't you? Sounds like sufficient time to me," he prodded.
Her brow rose tauntingly. "You're one to talk. Where's your escort for this evening?"
"I didn't bring one. I was hoping I'd run into you," he teased easily.
"I'm blushing, Mr. Queen."
"Oliver."
"Sure."
He eyed her in amusement. She was something else. "Can I ask you to dance?"
"Ask away."
He grinned. She was really making him work for it. "Would you care to dance with me, Chloe?" he said, sweeping into a melodramatic bow.
She giggled. "I'd be delighted, Mr. Queen."
"What do I have to do to get you to call me Oliver?" he asked, pulling her onto the dance floor.
Allowing him to pull her into his arms, she smiled easily. "Convince me that you aren't hitting on me?" she suggested.
"Now that is entirely unfair."
"How so?"
"You're far too attractive for me not to hit on you."
Chloe rolled her eyes.
"You don't believe me," he noted, mildly surprised.
She shook her head.
"Great. You're one of those women who doesn't even know how beautiful she is. That just makes you even more attractive."
Chloe scoffed, but he noticed that she blushed regardless.
"And shy," he continued. "You're not making this easy on me."
She laughed.
"All right," he conceded. "No more flirting. Strictly friendly advances from here on out. You mentioned you're new in town. What brought you to Star City?"
"Job search. I used to work at the Daily Planet."
Oliver nearly choked.
"What's wrong?" she frowned.
"Sorry, nothing," he shook himself. Hadn't Hal Jordan mentioned he had suspicions that someone at the Daily Planet might be the Traveler? What if Chloe knew him? Even knew who he was? "The Planet, huh? That's a pretty prestigious newspaper. What made you leave?"
"I clashed horns with Lex Luthor, so he bought it and fired me." Chloe was proud of her ability to tell the story without sounding bitter any more.
Oliver, on the other hand, was getting more intrigued by the minute. She was involved with a Luthor? But how much? "Do you know Lex personally? Or was it strictly professional loathing?"
Chloe laughed. "Well, actually, to most people's surprise, I do know him personally. I grew up in Smallville, where Lex used to live. He used to be good friends with my best friend Clark, who saved his life once upon a time."
"How did he do that?"
"Lex nearly hit him with a car, but drove off a bridge instead. Clark dove in after him, pulled him out of the car."
"Your friend sounds like a real hero."
Chloe's smile became strangely elusive, as though she knew more than she was telling. "That's certainly one way to describe him."
"He still a friend of yours or is this all ancient history?"
"Oh, Clark and I are very close. He actually started working at the Daily Planet shortly after I left. Claims I inspired him to be a journalist since we used to work on the paper together in high school," she smiled at the thought.
Oliver's mind was moving a thousand miles a minute by the time the song ended. They parted, but he wasn't ready to let her get away, yet. Unfortunately, he was expected to introduce his father for a brief speech.
"I have to take care of something," he said regretfully. "Save me a dance for later?" he added hopefully.
Chloe smiled. "Maybe," she evaded.
It would have to do. He left her, and Chloe went to seek out Jeremy, who was getting in position to snap a photo of Oliver and his father side by side.
"Do you still have my tape recorder?" she asked him. He nodded, not moving his camera out of place as his hand dove in his pocket to retrieve the device. He handed it over. "Thanks," she said, tousling his hair affectionately.
"No problem, Miss Sullivan," he said absently while Chloe clicked the recorder on.
Later in the evening, Chloe was seriously considering going home. She was exhausted. Unfortunately, when Jeremy had been interrogating her about Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen, she'd let slip that Oliver had asked to dance with her again, and now Jeremy was insisting they stick around as long as possible, attempting to make sure Oliver got the opportunity.
Interfering little twit, she thought affectionately.
"Miss Sullivan. Lovely to see you again, dear," said a pleasant voice, interrupting her thoughts. She looked up to see Laura Queen alongside her husband looking at Chloe approvingly. Laura Queen was such an elegant woman, it struck Chloe. Dressed in an extremely tasteful smoky blue taffeta ball gown, with her graying blonde hair drawn up in a simple chignon, she looked positively regal. She seemed to be one of those women in the world who aged impossibly gracefully. Every movement she made was measured and fluid, with her shoulders back and her head held up. But apart from that, Chloe was inexplicably drawn to her. She was the kind of woman you wanted to confide in, not unlike Martha Kent in that way. She had a warm smile and laugh lines around her grey eyes, which hinted of secrets untold. She looked at you like she wanted to be your friend.
And Robert Queen was very much her equal. Tall like his son, the family resemblance was more than evident. He shared his son's smile and brown eyes, not to mention the square shoulders and commanding presence. He was a man to be reckoned with. His once dark brown hair had evidently begun to gray heavily, though it only served to make him look more distinguished. She had been infinitely impressed by Mr. Queen when she interviewed him. He somehow achieved a perfect balance between man of business and man of the world. In short, he was the sort of man you came to and trusted when you were in trouble, no matter what kind.
"Mr. Queen. Mrs. Queen," Chloe greeted politely. "The gala has been lovely," she complimented.
"Oh, thank you, dear. I thought it turned out rather nicely, as well," Laura said fondly.
Chloe smiled.
"I read the article, Miss Sullivan," Robert interrupted them. "Enjoyed it thoroughly. You're a talented writer."
"Thank you very much," Chloe said appreciatively.
"Gazette's lucky to have you," he praised, and Chloe blushed.
"You haven't seen my son this evening, have you?" Laura asked hopefully.
Chloe was about to respond when the man himself showed up. "He was just going to ask his mother to dance," Oliver said, detangling his mother from his father. He raised a meaningful eyebrow at Chloe, indicating that he hadn't forgotten her.
"Oh, nonsense. What do you want with me?" Laura said, glancing fervently at Chloe.
"A dance," Oliver said simply, pulling her away in good humor.
"All right, can't have that," Robert said to Chloe. "They're both always scolding me for not dancing at these things, but what am I supposed to do when he steals my partner?" he asked her. "Shall we?" he offered her his arm conspiratorially.
Knowing she'd be a fool to decline, Chloe gladly accepted.
Robert Queen was an exceptional dance partner, Chloe thought, and if he didn't do it often, it certainly wasn't for lack of ability.
Halfway through the dance, however, he managed to maneuver them over toward Oliver and Laura, where husband and wife exchanged significant glances before successfully switching partners without missing a beat.
Chloe watched them amusedly as Oliver took over leading her. "They're very much in love with each other, aren't they?"
"Hmm?" Oliver asked, not having been listening.
"I said they really care about each other don't th-" her words died off as she turned to look at him and was caught off guard by the deep, searching look in his eyes.
"Sorry," he said, lightening the mood automatically. "Yeah, they do," he glanced at his parents appreciatively. "Always have."
"You're lucky," she said thoughtfully, "to have them, I mean."
"I take it you were less fortunate?"
She bit her lip as though regretting having mentioned anything but forced herself to answer. "My mother took off when I was pretty young. My dad did his best, but we were never all that close."
He nodded understandingly, then sought a change of subject to make her more comfortable. "What happened to our young photographer friend?" he glanced around the room.
"Oh, I suspect he's off somewhere trying looking for food. He was determined to make me wait around to dance with you again," she joked.
Oliver's eyebrow shot up. "I'll have to remember to thank him."
"He accepts payment in the form of autographed baseballs and free food."
Oliver laughed. "I see. What about you?"
"Oh, he accepts my love and affection on a daily basis in recompense."
He chuckled. "I meant what kind of reimbursement do you accept?"
She blushed. "Oh. I don't know. A good dance partner?" she tossed offhandedly.
"That's it?"
She thought for a moment then grinned. "That and coffee. I live on the stuff."
"So," he said carefully, "it might be possible to conveniently run into you at a coffee shop sometime in the near future? By total coincidence and strictly as friends of course," he added, seeing the uncertain look on her face.
At the word 'friends' she looked placated, however, and nodded. "It would be a believable incident."
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Next (Chapter 6)