Chlollie Fanfic: Love For Realsies, Chapter 17
Update in the house!
...I just can't seem to get this finished. It was supposed to be five chapters, tops! Well, thank goodness Conspiracy was good for something...! :-)
Enjoy.
Title: Love for Realsies
Author: BabyDee
Pairing: Chlollie
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Timeline: Season 9 (Conspiracy - Checkmate), sequel to Just for Funsies
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CW & DC comics.
Summary: Chloe finds it increasingly difficult to resist Ollie’s affections.
Feedback: …makes me squee. J
Read previous chapter here.
Read story from the beginning here.
Chapter 17
Within seconds Clark arrived at the Clocktower. He whooshed in, gave the room a quick scan and spotted Oliver sitting quietly at the bar, absently swirling a glass of amber liquid in his hand.
“You really are a nasty piece of work, you know that?” Clark snarled, advancing on the other man as he spoke.
Oliver gave a soulless smile. “Guess you’ve been to Chloe’s, huh?”
“You heartless bastard, how could you?” Clark yelled. “How could you just dump her like that and walk away?”
To his surprise and annoyance, Oliver gave a maniacal laugh. “Oh, it’s me, is it? I’m the bad guy here?” He shook his head and snorted. “Man, you have perfected the art of barking up the wrong tree, and gotten it down to a science.”
“I know the way you operate, Oliver,” he spat, resting his hands on the marble bar top and leaning rudely into the other man’s personal space. “Love ‘em and leave ‘em, not caring how many broken hearts you leave along the way…”
“Now, you need to shut up,” Oliver growled slowly, rising to his full height which Clark noticed, to his annoyance, was a good two inches taller than his own. “...and keep your face out of matters that don’t concern you.”
“I warned you not to take Chloe for granted, but you didn’t listen to me,” he growled back, grabbing Oliver by the lapels and jerking him forward. “Now she’s holed up in the Watchtower sobbing her heart out-”
“Get your hands off me!” Oliver roared, knocking Clark’s hands off his shirt and pushing him in the chest. Caught off guard, Clark stumbled back a little but quickly recovered and headed towards Oliver with a murderous glint in his eye, fists clenched.
“I told you that if you hurt her-”
“I’m sorry - hurt her?” Oliver asked, cupping his ear and laughing without mirth. “She’s not the one who just got her heart ripped out here!”
“What are you talking about? You dumped her!”
“She broke up with me, you moron!” he yelled, making Clark step back in shock.
“What?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” he said scathingly. “Your precious Chloe walked away from me right after I told her that I loved her.”
Clark adamantly shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe it,” Oliver said glumly, returning to the bar and picking up his brandy glass, looking through the bottom at the patterns made by the light. “Apparently, the fact that I love her makes her sick. Literally.”
“Oliver have you been drinking all morning?” Clark asked, giving the half-empty bottle of Courvoisier a sidelong glance. “How much of that have you had?”
“I haven’t had a drop,” he spat. “Though maybe if I had, I wouldn’t hurt so fucking much!”
With those words, he hurled the glass into the wall with brute force. The crystal glass shattered on impact, and the potent smell of the fragrant orange liqueur permeated the air.
Oliver slumped, and for the first time Clark noticed that he looked emotionally and physically drained. Oliver walked slowly to the couch and sank into it, burying his head in his hands.
“I did everything, Clark,” he whispered sadly. “I did everything I could to make her happy, and she just…” his voice caught in his throat and he stopped, taking a moment to compose himself before continuing.
“Everyday since she left, I pour out a glass of brandy; everyday…and I just stare and stare at it,” he whispered. “I wish I could just down it and ease the pain, but I’m not that person anymore. I can’t go back to being a drunken loser. She saved me from that.” He lifted his head and Clark’s stared at the naked grief in Oliver’s red-rimmed eyes. “And now she’s gone.”
“It doesn’t make any sense,” he said, going over to Oliver’s side and sitting on the other end of the couch. “I was just at her place now, and she’s as cut up about this as you are.”
Oliver snorted. “She can’t be. Here’s how it went, Clark: I told her I loved her; she promptly threw up, and then told me it was just sex or nothing. I said I couldn’t do that, and she told me we were over and walked out. End scene.”
Clark frowned. “Chloe’s been through so much lately, she’s hardly the same person she was anymore,” he said ruefully.
Oliver turned and glared at him. “Yeah, and whose fault is that?”
Clark winced at the barb, but didn’t take the bait. “I’m not here to argue with you, Oliver-”
“Yeah, you were,” Oliver said scathingly as he stood. “You came to kick the shit out of me for ‘dumping’ your friend, only it turns out she’s the one who’s ripped us apart.”
Clark shook his head. “She genuinely cares about you-”
“Nah, she genuinely wants to fuck my brains out,” he shot back. “Or not. She’s a free agent now, she can screw whoever she wants…” Oliver paused again, and Clark saw his face crease in anguish. “Oh, God…”
“Oliver…” he began, but Oliver turned away from him and stared out the window.
“I didn’t invite you over here,” he said stonily. “Please leave.”
“Are you going to be okay-?”
“Just go, Clark.”
“Oliver, you’re in a bad way. You shouldn’t-”
“Clark, I have kryptonite,” he said harshly. “Now get out before I get it out and shoot you with it.”
Clark instantly got to his feet and backed away. “Wait here,” he said. “I’m gonna fix this.”
***
In a valiant attempt to get Oliver off her mind, Chloe decided that giving the old office a good clean might be a good distraction. So, with her puppy at her heels, she began the long, laborious process of moving and shifting items around until she thought she’d made some decent progress.
Thirty minutes later, the place was much tidier, but the plan had backfired horribly because Oliver was now in her thoughts more than ever. Everything she touched reminded her in some way of him; every item in the place told a story. The Wedgewood China plates he’d served her lobster in had taken up residence in her kitchen, his jogging sneakers were in a corner, and the gold blouse he’d bought her from Mumbai was folded on top of a pile of her clothes. His GA costume was just behind a hidden panel which she passed every ten seconds. And if all that wasn’t enough, Onyx harassed her with constant reminders that he hadn’t seen his daddy for a while, bringing slippers and green arm bands and dropping them at her feet.
Chloe sighed and rubbed her temples, feeling thoroughly heartsick. Morosely she wondered how Ollie was doing, but she didn’t have the courage or the strength to call him, because her resolve would weaken and she’d be back to making the same old mistakes.
She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that threatened, but one still fell and rolled down her cheek. Angrily she dashed it away and stood, picking up a few scattered pens that had fallen down the side of the couch, and went to stash them in her drawer. As she opened the unit and shoved the items as far back as possible, her fingers encountered the smooth edge of a velvet box. Curiously, she felt further along and managed to tug it all the way out.
It was a green velvet gift box, embossed with the Cartier logo on the side, and there was a small card tucked under the gold ribbon with her name on it. Quickly she pulled it out and began to read.
So, I was walking through the Irish Quarter, and this reminded me of you, he’d written. A lucky charrrrrrrm for me lucky charrrrrrrrm. (Well, it was either this or a leprechaun).
Wear it often!
Fondly,
Oliver. Xxx
PS: If you don’t like it, I can always take it back and swap it for the leprechaun. ;-)
Carefully she lifted the lid off the box, and her breath caught in her throat. Sitting on a bed of silk was a 24-carat gold wishbone-chain bracelet, on which hung a pendant with four sparkling emeralds set in the shape of a shamrock.
Chloe didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the fact that he’d clearly bought her Cartier jewellery and spoke of it as though he’d blithely picked it up at the Irish Market. She had no idea when he’d bought it and stashed it in her drawer, but he’d been patient enough to wait for her to find it. Unable to resist, she lifted the bracelet out of its box and slipped it around her wrist.
Like everything else Ollie had ever gotten her, it was a perfect fit. This time she couldn’t stop the tears that rolled freely down her face as she traced the precious gems on the pendant with one fingertip.
All the signs had been there. Deep down, she must have realised that he loved her, but the more she’d denied it, the more she could live in denial about his true feelings for her…and hers for him. Because there was no point lying to herself, either. She loved him right back.
And it quite literally scared her to death.
Just then, Clark whooshed back into the building, and she hastily cleaned her streaming face.
“I just spoke to Oliver,” he said, sounding worried. “Chloe…he’s a wreck right now. He said that you -”
Just hearing his name was enough to set her off completely. Chloe burst into fresh tears, sobbing loudly as she buried her face in her hands and wept openly.
Immediately, Clark’s strong arms went around her shoulders. “Oh God, Chloe, please don’t cry,” he whispered, stroking her hair and rubbing her shoulders. “It’s gonna be okay…”
“No it’s not,” she cried, squeezing her fingers into his t-shirt, her eyes falling on her new bracelet. “It’s not…it’ll never be…”
“Shh,” he soothed, his hands gentle on her shoulders. “Please don’t cry, Chlo. Look, you’re scaring the puppy. You don’t want Onyx getting all upset, do you?”
She glanced down at the whining pup pawing her trouser leg and managed to smile through her tears. “He’s a tough guy,” she managed to say, bending to stroke his dark fur. Her bracelet glinted on her wrist, and her mind immediately went to the tall, sunny blond archer, and she sighed.
“Hey, I know that sigh,” Clark admonished. “Whatever you do, don’t get all weepy on me again.”
She shook her head, her eyes filling up with new tears. “I can’t help it, I just…”
“You’re losing weight,” he observed, his eyes accusing. “You’re looking smaller than usual, Chloe. When was the last time you ate?”
A guilty blush stained her cheeks as she tried to remember when her last meal had been…and couldn’t.
Clark nodded sombrely. “I thought so. Right, that does it; you’re coming to the Farm with me. I’m going to fatten you up, and then we can sit down and talk when you’re ready. Okay?”
She sniffed and nodded. “’Kay.”
He smiled. “Good. Get Onyx’s stuff ready, we leave in two minutes.”
***
Oliver Queen scowled as he swept the broken glass from the brandy tumbler into a dustpan. Clark Kent had some damned nerve, storming in here and bleating all manner of false accusations. He understood that Clark was just trying to protect his friend, though it made little sense when he considered the fact that Clark had staunchly ignored the girl all year and batted his eyes at her cousin, instead. In fact, it was Clark’s rejection that had turned Chloe into a soulless shell in the first place.
Straightening, he went to the kitchen and wrapped the broken shards in old newspaper before placing them in the trash. As he did so, he frowned as he recollected Clark’s words:
Chloe’s holed up in the Watchtower sobbing her heart out…she’s as cut up about this as you are…
He sat down at the kitchen table and for the first time in days, his heart beat with hope. Maybe he hadn’t been wrong in his initial assessment of Chloe’s feelings; in fact, he was certain now that he had been right. She did feel for him, and her intense reaction to his declaration of love was - in a weird way - proof of that. He just happened to have startled her, but once she got used to the idea of them together, as a real couple…
The wheels in his head started turning again as he hatched a new plan to get her back. He was going to seduce her, plain and simple. But he had to find a way to get her to let him into the apartment without thinking he was there to seduce her or pressure her into revealing latent feelings for him. The corner of his mouth tilted upwards as once again, as the perfect foil presented itself in his mind.
Onyx.
He hadn’t seen the furball in weeks, and he missed him almost as much as he missed Chloe. So he’d go over there and state his rights.
“Onyx is my damn dog too, and I have a right to see him whenever I want,” he practiced in an indignant voice, and then chuckled to himself.
Okay, it was a cheap trick, creating a custody battle over the pup, but it would drive her crazy and force her to deal with him face to face. And once he touched her, he knew she wouldn’t be able to resist him.
Rising swiftly, he reached for his green jacket, grabbed his Ferrari keys and headed for the door.
It was like he had said; Chloe Sullivan was worth breaking a few rules for.
***
Oliver parked the car and headed towards the building just as Chloe stepped out into the sunshine with Onyx in her arms. He stopped and ducked out of sight so that they couldn’t see him, but kept an eye on them, determined to follow them at a safe distance and surprise them.
But he hadn’t counted on canine intelligence. Onyx sniffed the air, catching a familiar smell, and his ears pricked up. Excitedly he started yapping and wriggling, desperately trying to jump out of Chloe’s arms. Quickly Oliver jerked his head back, hiding behind a truck as Onyx managed to get free.
“Hey, Onyx, come back! What is with you today?” he heard Chloe admonish as Onyx’s yaps got louder and louder as he approached.
Oliver grinned and waited for the pup to appear round the side of the van. Oh, this was perfect. As soon as Onyx reached him, he’d pick him up and-
“Don’t worry, I got him,” he heard a deep voice say.
Oliver’s smile disappeared. Clark? What was he still doing here?
“Okay, let’s go,” he heard him say, and leaned out just in time to see the three of them turning a corner.
“Wait!” Oliver yelled, breaking into a run. But just as he got there and rounded the corner, he was greeted with a cloud of dust and empty space.
“Damn it!” he cursed.
He didn’t waste a second. Immediately he jogged back to the Ferrari and threw it into high gear, heading for the Kent Farm in Smallville.
***
Chapter 18…
PS: I just had to throw in some cock-blocking drama, didn’t I? ;-)
***