Title: Anything But Ordinary
Pairing: Chloe/Oliver
Author: Genevieve
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sexual Content/Violence, also spoilery for season 8, don't read if you don't want to be spoiled.
Summary: After being poisoned, Oliver Queen sinks into darkness, questioning his role as the Green Arrow and the sacrifices to his personal life, but when danger threatens and he's needed, will he accept the burden of a hero?
Anything But Ordinary
Chapter 11
“Davis. What are you doing here, is everything all right?” Her brows frowned in question as she stepped into the rear computer room at ISIS, surprised to find him there. She usually made certain this area was closed off, and wondered how he’d gotten in.
“Hey, uh… I’m sorry, I just… ,” he lifted an apologetic shoulder, as he cast about nervously for words.
Chloe deposited her purse onto the nearby chair, then shrugged out of her jacket, laying it over the back. The look on his face told her something wasn’t right. “What’s wrong?” she asked gently.
After his meeting with Tess, he’d nearly lost his mind with worry. He’d wandered around aimlessly for hours, called in sick to work two days in a row; unable to think of anything other than the images he’d seen. A large, hideous creature, claws and fang-like teeth and silvery granite-like skin, he couldn’t fathom it. What if he were the one responsible for all the recent murders? Who could help him? There was only one person he knew of. Chloe. “I… I’m sorry to just, kind of barge in here, but I thought you’d be the person to see, since you run this place, and … Chloe, I think… I think I might be meteor infected.”
“Okay,” she said stepping toward him concernedly, green eyes suddenly compassionate. “It’s okay. We’ll figure this out.”
She placed a comforting hand on his arm, unknowingly sending his senses into overdrive. Something about her nearness drove him to distraction; her touch burned him, sending the heat of desire rushing, molten hot through his veins. It was a simple, harmless, brief touch meant to comfort, making his reaction completely at odds. He didn’t understand it. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to come here.
Chloe moved away from him, seeming not to notice. She settled onto a stool, booting up the computer systems, then rolling up her sleeves. “Where were you when the meteors hit?”
Davis filled his lungs with a calming breath in an attempt to shake off the overwhelming attraction. He’d felt it before around her, but never this strongly, it was almost as though he had no control over his emotions. “I… I don’t know. I wasn’t around for the most recent one,” he shrugged. “But maybe for the first one? Or maybe I became infected somehow through someone else, through my work? Is that even possible?”
“When we’re dealing with meteor rock, anything’s possible.” She said, her eyes scanning the various screens overhead, the images flashing so quickly, he could barely see a thing. “What are your symptoms?”
“That doesn’t sound too encouraging. Symptoms… uh, blackouts, loss of time, waking up in strange places not knowing what I’ve done, where I’ve been or why I’m there.”
“Okay,” was all she said, as her fingers moved deftly over the keyboard. “Were you ever a sleepwalker? Or have any known manifested abilities?”
“No. What are you looking for?”
“Where were you born, what year?” she asked disregarding his question.
“Uh… in Wichita. October 19, 1984. That’s what’s on my birth certificate, anyway.”
Her eyes moved rapidly over the fleeting images on the three large screens overhead. “You mean you’re not certain?”
He stuffed his hands inside jacket pockets, rocking on his heels nervously. “No.”
“Hmmm… There’s no public record for a Davis Bloom born in Wichita that year,” Chloe stated simply.
He knew she was a genius, but how she’d discovered that information so quickly, was simply beyond human.
She turned to glance at him, suddenly embarrassed. “I… I’m sorry,” she smiled nervously, then bit her lip, an unwelcome blush crept into her cheeks. “I realize this must look… odd.”
“She’s amazing, isn’t she?”
At the sound of Oliver’s voice, both she and Davis turned. “Ollie!” It was impossible not to hear the sheer delight in her voice; impossible not to notice the way her face lit up at the approach of the tall blonde man, her eyes full of sky and dreams. Queen wore a similar expression, his gaze warm as it touched her. It was evident how close they were if Queen knew about her abilities. She’d slipped off the stool, looking as though she wanted to leap into the billionaire’s arms, but refrained from doing so only because he was in the room, and worse, Queen seemed to know this and would have swept her up in an instant. The slow coil of jealousy tightened and twisted in Davis’s gut, anger simmered there threatening to bubble to the surface. His hands fisted in his pockets. He had to get out of here before he tore Oliver Queen to pieces.
“I thought you weren’t coming back till tomorrow,” she beamed up at Oliver, clearly smitten. He’d been called away on business back to Star City, gone for three days. He’d called her every day, at least twice a day and once every night before she’d gone to bed.
Oliver’s smile was broad. “Finished up early, thought I’d surprise you… and everyone else,” he added hastily.
“Well, I’m glad you’re back.”
Davis stood watching them gaze at each other as they communicated their mutual affection without words, the taut line of his jaw, the feral expression in his eyes unnoticed by either of them. He tried to regain his composure, tamping down the rage with everything he had, clearing his throat to gain their attention.
“Hey, Davis, sorry about that,” Oliver said, sincerely, yet something in his body tensed at the sight of Bloom. Oliver stepped closer to Chloe in what could not be misconstrued as anything other than a possessive and territorial move. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Nah, it’s cool,” Davis answered, his voice sounding gravely, deeper than he’d intended. “I was just leaving.”
“No, Davis, wait. Are you sure? I mean, I think we can help. If you’ll just…”
He shook his head. If ‘we’ included Queen, he wanted no part of it. “I’ll come back some other time, let you two catch up. It’s no problem, really.” He couldn’t bear to look at either of them, and hastened out of the room, leaving them both to stare after him.
“Something’s not right about that guy,” Oliver murmured. He turned to her. “No offense, Chloe, I know he’s your friend. I just don’t trust him.”
Chloe’s lips pressed together in a thin line, forming a small frown. “Sadly, you might be right. But I’m worried just the same. He’s not a bad guy, really, but yeah, I think something’s up.” She took her seat, turning back to the computer and began typing away; intent on finding what information she could on Davis Bloom, something a little more in-depth than the average Google search would yield. She began hacking into Kansas’s county records dating as far back as 1986. “And I’m going to find out.”
Oliver sidled up close beside her, pretending to be interested in whatever she was doing. Chloe grinned when she felt the warmth of his hand on her back, massaging slow circles, fingers kneading away the tension in her shoulders. His touch caused gooseflesh to rise everywhere. “Mmmm… that feels good,” she moaned pleasantly, arching her back into his hand.
Hearing her moan made his heart trip. He leaned in, nuzzling the hair at her temple, his soft breath tingling her skin. “Oh yeah?” Warm lips pressed delicate kisses over her temple and cheek, then lifting the hair away from her collar, his mouth blazed a trail over the shell of her ear, then nipped lightly at her earlobe, making her shudder before the heat of his lips and tongue traveled down the pulse point of her throat.
“Oh my…,” her breath hitched, the soft sound of her sigh whispered through him with need and hunger. She tipped her head to allow his lips better access. “I never did give you a proper welcome, did I?” she purred, her voice a husky whisper. Chloe turned on the stool to face him, plunging her fingers into his hair. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you didn’t,” he whispered, lifting his head, to gaze down at her, a teasing, sensuous smile on those kissable lips. No man but Oliver Queen had ever made her skin tingle, and her pulse quicken just by looking at her. “But I’ll forgive you. I think you m…”
She surprised him, closing the scant distance between them cutting off whatever he would say next, his words smothered on her lips as she captured his mouth in a passionate kiss that made his head reel. He’d been hungry for the taste of her for days, his low growl of approval and longing, vibrating into her, his lips devouring hers, the kiss deepening, she opened her mouth, eager for the taste and feel of his tongue stroking hers.
She was all he’d thought about for days. It had been the worst timing ever. After she’d agreed to give this thing between them a chance, he’d been called away. He felt terrible about it, didn’t want to leave her, but there was no help for it, no one else he could delegate the job to. It required his presence. She was disappointed, but took it in stride. And now, here with her, all he wanted was this; to be near her, to touch her, feel the soft curves of her body against his, savoring all the subtle, sensual variations of her kisses.
His hands caressed the line of her back down to the first hint of her bottom, drawing her closer, wedging himself between the V of her thighs, molding his body to hers, pressed together from breast to hip. Her sharp intake of breath against his mouth, and her low moan of need as he nudged his hips forward, grinding himself against the fabric of her blue jeans, filled him with a fierce longing and desire that pulsed, rock hard against her.
Chloe wanted him with a ferocity she’d never felt before. An explosion of pleasure and need went off inside her as she arched into him, answering his movement with her own, a distinct warmth flooding the area between her legs. If there had ever been any doubt of his desire for her, there certainly was none now. Her hands roamed over his shirt, caressing him, lean and hard beneath her palms, slipping under his jacket, blindly searching, her fingers finding their way to the belt loops at the hips of his jeans. She pulled him against her with heated urgency.
The world seemed to shift beneath his feet when she yanked him closer, her kisses drugging him, need hammering at his common sense. A small, insistent voice in the back of his mind warned him to stop. It was too soon, too soon. If he didn’t stop, he’d have her flat on the desk, or bent over it, filling her in less than a minute. He pulled his mouth inches away from hers, their breathing ragged, staring into one another’s heavy-lidded eyes. Each of them deeply affected.
“Chloe,” he whispered, her name spoken reverently, like a prayer from his thoroughly kissed lips.
She’d never known her name could sound that way, as though she were something precious and treasured. Adored.
Oliver’s hands slid up her back, one arm wrapping around her shoulders, the other hand cradling her cheek, kissing her forehead, then bringing her head to rest against him. Chloe buried her face against his throat, breathing deeply of him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him close. They remained this way quietly, until desires were simmered, though not calmed completely.
“I think that’s the best welcome back I’ve ever had.”
“Mmmm,” she murmured against his skin. “I guess I must have missed you,” she teased, though truthfully she’d never recalled any kisses that had ever evoked such strong mental and emotional response in her. Only Oliver’s kisses had done that, but she wouldn’t let him know, not yet. Things were too new between them, and a part of her was still afraid, hesitant to lose herself or define what was growing between them.
He smiled. “You guess?” He smoothed her hair, threading his fingers into it, enjoying the softness against his palm.
She pulled back, smiling up into his eyes.
“I need to work on that then,” he whispered, lowering his head, kissing the tip of her nose, her eyes, her cheeks, tenderly.
A beeping sound from the computer diverted their attention. “What is this? Chloe’s eyes scanned the screens. “Oh my God. Look at this, Ollie,” she turned in his arms, pointing to the screen, her expression one of shock. “Davis Bloom told me he grew up in the foster system, bounced around from home to home. He’s an orphan, but look. State records show he was found, abandoned as a small child on October 19, 1989. Ollie, that was the date of the first meteor shower here.”
Oliver leaned over her, peering into the screen, his body brushing against her back. “What do you think that means?”
“It means your old friend Tess Mercer has been holding out on me, and now all bets are off. I’m hacking into to Luthorcorp systems to find whatever else she’s been hiding.”
“Take it easy there, Sidekick. She’s no one to tangle with.”
“Ollie, if Davis Bloom was found on that date, it could mean he’s also from Krypton. He’s not merely meteor infected, he’s an alien, or something created by Kryptonians, just like Brainiac was.” Her fingers moved furiously over the keyboard as she continued to speak. “Dr. Swann had this theory, that ionized meteor particles were being sent from Smallville, using meteor burst communication, acting as a beacon to guide extraterrestrials to earth. Kara, Brainiac, Zod, and now maybe Davis, were all drawn here.”
“Because of Clark.”
She smiled up at him, relieved and thankful that not only had he not been freaked out by her abilities, but that he understood her on top of it. “Yes,” she said, then stretched up, planting a soft kiss on his cheek quickly before turning back to the screen.
Oliver reciprocated, pressing his lips against her hair, lingering affectionately.
“Okay, here it is. Davis Bloom was found in Smallville on October 19th 1989 not far from Riley Field. Attempts at finding his parents proved futile, and he became a ward of the state, and was sent to Wichita.”
“Tess knew about this?”
“Evidently.” Chloe’s eyes moved rapidly, scanning the large paneled screens above now, all three of them moving so quickly, Oliver’s head spun and he had to look away, content with simply watching her in action. Suddenly the screens stopped, showing detailed lists of all items of evidence found in the arctic, along with accompanying photographs. Chloe clicked through the items. “She’s got the crystal.”
“The crystal?”
“It belongs to Clark. We need to get it back.”
“Why is it so important?”
“It’s the crystal that formed his fortress in the Arctic. The source of all his Kryptonian knowledge and heritage left by his father.”
“We need to tell Clark.”
She looked up at him once more. “We might need to call in the cavalry for this. How soon can you assemble the team?”
Oliver straightened, shrugging off her suggestion. “Simple breaking, entering and stealing. It’s my forte, Sidekick. I think Boy Scout and I can handle it.”
Chloe bit her lip. “Ollie, she knows who you are. Maybe you should sit this one out.”
“Not a chance.” He touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers, as though caressing her would erase her worry. “I’ll be fine, Chloe.”
She knew she couldn’t keep him from it, and nodded solemnly in silent agreement. “Okay,” she acquiesced. “Let me cover my tracks here, and then we can leave.”
He leaned down, taking her lips with his in the sweetest of kisses. “Good. I’ve got some making up for lost time to take care of with a certain Mistress Watchtower.”
* * * * *
He watched them, a slow burn spreading through him as he stood in the shadows peering through a small, uncovered portion of window until he could watch no longer. Up until the moment she turned toward Oliver Queen, kissing the blonde billionaire for all she was worth. So that’s how it was. She’d broken off her engagement with Jimmy for that guy? Maybe not, but the timing was awfully close. He wondered if Jimmy knew. Maybe Jimmy wasn’t right for her, hell anyone could see that, but Queen? Spoiled, rich pretty boy, who lived in the lap of luxury all his life, never having to do without or starve or suffer. Not the type he thought Chloe would fall for. Evidently he was wrong. Guys like Queen got all the women, didn’t deserve half of them, and the other half they discarded like yesterday’s newspaper. Davis’s blood boiled, not merely over the injustice of it all, but Chloe… Chloe was his and no one else would have her.
Davis turned down the street, trying to shake off his sexual hunger. He headed toward the Daily Planet offices. He was sure Tess Mercer would be there. She’d said she could tame the beast. Maybe he’d see exactly what she could do for him.
End Chapter 11
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