I'd Come For You 1/24
banner by: alxnhnt22
Title: I'd Come For You
Chapter: 1/24
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Chloe Sullivan and Oliver Queen
Rating: PG-13 (for now, subject to change)
Word Count: 5.431
Prompt: This fic is dedicated to the amazing slytherinpunk who wanted to see a fic where Chloe met Oliver and Green Arrow before Lois and Clark did. Happy Birthday, Dawn! ♥
Warning: AU - seriously, throw your Smallville timelines out the window.
Chloe Sullivan could smell the ocean as she stepped out of the cab in front of the city’s tallest skyscraper. A light breeze ruffled her hair and she automatically put a hand up to her blond curls to keep them in place. She strode purposefully through the sliding glass doors, her heels clicking along the white marble as she walked to the elevator as if she’d done it a million times.
Her curious green eyes tried to take in the architecture and the sheer beauty of the lobby, filing away the images for her mind to reference later on when she had a chance to fully appreciate them. Grateful that the elevator was empty, Chloe stepped inside and glanced at the large panel of numbers. She had done her research ahead of time and pushed the button for the seventy-fifth floor.
The doors closed and Chloe breathed a small sigh of relief. The first hurdle was taken care of. She turned slightly to look at her reflection in the elevator’s glass wall. The gray pencil skirt and dark green silk blouse she wore were much more professional than the clothes she normally sported when she was working at the Daily Planet, but they seemed very fitting for this new playing field.
She closed her eyes for a few brief seconds as the elevator made its ascent. It was normal to be nervous, to have butterflies in her stomach and wonder if this whole idea was too crazy for her to pull off. She was in a strange city after all, working for an editor who only expected her to fulfill the basic duties her two week internship required and then head back to Metropolis with one or two token articles added to her portfolio.
But Chloe had never been one to play by other people’s rules and expectations.
Her eyes were focused and confident when she opened them again and watched the numbers steadily climbing as the elevator neared her destination. Even though she loved her internship at the Daily Planet and had every intention of turning it into a full time job now that she had graduated from Met U, Chloe had jumped at the chance when her editor had given her the opportunity to go to California and intern at the Star City Post for two weeks.
She had no plans of living anywhere other than Metropolis, but Chloe had never been outside of Kansas before and she wanted to see what it was like working for a different paper in a new city. The timing couldn’t have been better. It had been three months since the events of Dark Thursday and everything seemed to be back to normal (even if normal was a relative term when it came to Smallville and Metropolis).
Of course, Lois had been less than thrilled with the idea and Clark hadn’t been keen on her leaving either. Lois had whined that summer in Kansas was boring enough and it wasn’t fair that Chloe got to go somewhere warm with beaches while she slaved away at the Inquisitor. Clark, on the other hand, was convinced that it wasn’t safe for Chloe to travel alone because of her connection to him since they still didn’t know how much - if anything - Lex had retained from his stint as Zod.
Chloe had done her best to reassure both of them that she was an adult and she would be fine on her own for two weeks. Lois seemed pacified when she reminded her that she’d be working and probably wouldn’t even have time to visit the beach. Clark had finally relented when she had told him that Lex would still be in Smallville with him and even if he did suspect something, he would probably go after Clark’s girlfriend before his best friend.
She loved Lois and Clark, but they were exhausting.
The elevator dinged, bringing Chloe out of her thoughts and back to the reason she was there. Her editor had assigned her the usual fluff stories that most interns could write in their sleep. She’d covered city hall, she’d written about a new skateboarding ordinance and she had just finished a piece on an art exhibit at the local gallery. She didn’t mind paying her dues, but she’d already written tons of those articles for the Planet. She wanted a story that she could only find in Star City.
She wanted to interview Oliver Queen.
Chloe had been hearing the billionaire’s name practically from the moment she stepped off the plane. He was only five years older than she was, but the man was a legend in Star City. She’d done her research. He was orphaned at a young age, grew up in boarding schools, and disappeared at sea for two years only to return from the dead and reclaim his company.
But it was his billionaire playboy persona that kept him on the front pages. Oliver Queen had quite the reputation for being able to charm any woman into his bed despite the fact that he was never photographed with the same woman twice. He was also known to be a hard drinker who never passed up a good party.
Chloe found the tabloid fodder to be utterly ridiculous. The man was the head of one of the most influential technology companies in the world and she had not read one article about his business practices that did not include questions about his social escapades. She wasn’t sure if the man was truly that shallow or if he was actually calculating and did those things on purpose to keep the attention focused elsewhere.
She was determined to find the answer.
Unfortunately, Mr. Queen employed some of the best PR people in the world and they had been giving Chloe the runaround for days. She would be back in Kansas before she could even get the man on the phone if they had their way and she was not about to let that happen. That was why she was standing in the lobby of his private office trying to size up his executive assistant.
Chloe knew that her name was Mary, she was in her late forties and she was married with two kids. She had been working for the CEO for the past five years and at this point she was the only thing standing between Chloe and her interview. With a bright smile on her face, she closed the short distance to the woman’s desk.
“Hi, I’m Chloe Sullivan. I believe I left you a few messages. I’d like to speak to Mr. Queen,” she said.
Mary looked up from her computer, a slight frown on her face as she was obviously trying to place her name. Her frown deepened and her eyes met Chloe’s. “You’re the reporter who keeps calling from the Post,” she said flatly.
“That’s right,” Chloe said. Her smile didn’t falter. “No one returned my calls so I thought I would just drop in. I only need a few minutes.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Sullivan. Mr. Queen is a busy man and he doesn’t grant one on one interviews. The media relations department is on the fortieth floor. I’m sure they can give you what you need and let you know when the next press conference will be scheduled.” Her tone was light, but there was a hint of warning in her eyes.
Protective, Chloe thought. She assumed this woman spent a lot of her time keeping people away from her boss. She probably liked the guy or she wouldn’t still be working for him. Chloe decided to play on that.
“Aren’t you tired of seeing all the tabloids painting your boss as a smarmy playboy whose only mission in life is to have a good time?” Chloe asked. She shook her head slightly like the whole thing was just sad.
Mary raised an eyebrow. “I suppose you’re going to try and tell me that you’re not like all those other reporters who are just interested in his social life.” Her formerly pleasant tone was sharper now.
“I couldn’t care less about his social life,” Chloe replied. She could see the woman didn’t believe a word she was saying and she couldn’t blame her considering the stuff the press wrote about her boss. “If you would just ask your boss to give me a half hour of his time, you would see that,” she assured her.
“Mr. Queen does not grant personal interviews,” Mary repeated. She reached for her phone. “I’ll have security escort you to the media relations department. Or the front door,” she added.
Chloe reached out and pushed the button to end the call before she could dial. She pressed forward, ignoring the shock on the woman’s face. “Why doesn’t he give interviews? What is he so afraid of? Am I really that intimidating to a billionaire CEO that he has to hide behind his assistant? Is that what you want me to tell my readers?” She knew she was pushing her luck, but this was the last chance she was going to get. If security was going to toss her out, Chloe was not going to make it easy for them.
“Miss, your behavior is entirely inappropriate,” Mary said. She pulled the phone to her ear again and glared at Chloe.
“I’m not the one who has something to hide,” Chloe replied. She folded her arms over her chest and stared the older woman down. “But hey, if your boss is the kind of guy who has his assistant throw reporters out of his office because he’s too scared to face them, that’s what I’m going to print in my article. That might put a bit of a dent into that social life of his,” she added snidely.
“We can’t have that.”
Chloe turned sharply and her eyes widened when she saw Oliver Queen standing in his office doorway. She’d seen more pictures of him than she could count, but now that he was less than ten feet from her, she couldn’t help thinking none of those pictures did him justice.
He was…wow…just wow. That was the only word Chloe’s brain could seem to come up with as she took in the chiseled features, spiky blond hair, deep chocolate brown eyes that a girl could lost in and his tall frame that was draped in a dark suit that probably cost more than her car. But it was his smile that had her heart skipping a beat and rendered her brain temporarily useless.
“I’m sorry if we disturbed you, Mr. Queen,” Mary apologized. She sent Chloe another nasty look. “I’m going to have security handle the situation,” she assured him.
“That won’t be necessary, Mary,” Oliver replied. He walked over and held out his hand to Chloe. “Oliver Queen,” he said.
“Chloe Sullivan,” she replied, relieved when her voice didn’t shake or come out sounding like a breathy moan. She placed her hand in his and tried to ignore the way her pulse jumped at the contact.
Oliver kept her hand in his for a moment as his eyes trailed over her. He’d been admiring her curves as he watched her from his office and he focused on her face, enjoying the way her green blouse seemed to make her eyes that much brighter. Her smile was polite and slightly distracted and he waited for the feisty woman who had been harassing his assistant to reappear.
Her brain seemed to snap back into place and Chloe quickly pulled her hand back from his. She couldn’t blow her chance by acting like some fawning twit. “Mr. Queen, I’m with the Star City Post and I would like a few minutes of your time to ask you a few questions.”
Amused, he pretended to consider it. He’d decided to give her the interview about ten seconds after she opened her mouth and started to bully Mary. “I was actually on my way out to grab lunch,” Oliver said. He glanced at Mary. “Can you call Vincenza’s and arrange my usual table?”
Mary nodded and reached for the phone. “How many people?” she asked.
“Two,” Oliver replied, ignoring the unhappy look she sent in Chloe’s direction. He shifted his gaze back to the reporter. “Unless, of course Miss Sullivan is worried about being seen in public with a smarmy playboy,” he quipped. His lips curved into a smirk that was much sexier than what should be legal.
Chloe’s eyes narrowed and she tried to ignore the way her face flushed as she considered the less than flattering comments she’d made about him to his assistant. “How long were you standing there?” she asked.
“You mean in my office?” Oliver asked. He frowned in concentration. “I think I arrived around seven this morning, but I can double check with security if you need an exact time.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Chloe replied. Smartass. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. “If I have lunch with you, will you answer my questions?” she asked. She wanted to make it clear she was not one of those women who would be distracted by his charm.
“I’d say you have a better possibility of getting answers if you come with me because I think Mary has made it clear that she’s not going to give you any information,” Oliver replied. He winked at his assistant and smoothly slipped his arm through Chloe’s to guide her to the door. “Do you like Italian?” he asked.
“Yes,” Chloe said cautiously as he pushed the button for the elevator. “I’m serious about the questions, Mr. Queen.” He still had that amused look in his eyes and she couldn’t tell if he was trying to distract her with food. “Maybe it would be better if we talked in your office.”
Oliver shook his head. “I’m starving and I get cranky when I don’t eat. You can put that in your article if you’d like,” he added with an easy smile. The elevator doors opened and he politely motioned for her to enter first.
Chloe stepped into the elevator, but kept her eyes on him. He seemed intent on coming off amused and overly confident, but she couldn’t help thinking he was testing her somehow with his offer. “All right,” she agreed. “I’ll have lunch with you.”
He flashed another heart-stopping grin. “I’m looking forward to it.”
***
Forty-five minutes later, Chloe was still trying to figure out which version of the man across from her was the real Oliver Queen. The restaurant he had chosen was only a few blocks from Queen Industries so he had suggested they walk there. She’d started to ask him questions, but he had (correctly) pointed out that she couldn’t take notes while she walked and started asking her questions about how long she had been working at the Post.
Before she knew it, Chloe found herself telling him about working for the Torch in high school and striving for a job at the Planet for as long as she could remember. They arrived at the restaurant before she realized how just easily he had shifted the topic to her without her noticing. She’d abruptly stopped talking in the middle of a sentence and he’d just laughed like he’d won the first battle.
The hostess had practically fallen over herself as she led them to their table, never taking her eyes off Oliver as she welcomed him back and rattled off the specials, adding that she was sure the chef would be willing to make anything he wanted. Chloe was glad she hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning because she was convinced it would have come back up as she listened to the woman gushing. Oliver barely batted an eye. He chatted with the hostess like they were old friends and greeted the manager the same way when he stopped by their table with a bottle of wine.
As soon as their order was placed, Chloe took a sip of her water (she wasn’t about to drink on the job) and asked Oliver what Queen Industries was doing to create more jobs in the shaky economy. He shifted into CEO mode before her eyes and talked about the company’s plan to open more warehouses across the country, citing specific locations and how many people he planned to hire at each one.
She fired question after question at him and he answered each one without falling back on his charm or trying to change the topic if the question was on the confrontational side. None of his answers sounded rehearsed and he clearly knew the ins and outs of his company down to the smallest detail, something Chloe knew for a fact most CEOs did not.
He was funnier than she would have expected. His quick wit and sarcastic humor made her laugh more than once before she could catch herself and try to stay in serious reporter mode. But once he noticed he could make her laugh, Chloe was positive he was trying harder to do it and it turned into a bit of a power struggle.
He was obviously smart, probably much smarter than anyone gave him credit for because of his good looks and silver spoon background. He told Chloe flat out that he was ruthless and persistent and if he wanted something, he did not give up until it was his. The fierce intensity in his eyes as he spoke had shot right through her and she had a feeling she understood why few people (if any) ever said no to him.
But the arrogant charmer was never far from the surface. Numerous people stopped by their table to say hello to him and Oliver transformed before her eyes. He chatted with a business acquaintance about a party, flirted with a PR agent even as he declined her dinner invitation and he was currently discussing a baseball game with the busboy as he refilled their water glasses.
The busboy walked away and Oliver flashed Chloe an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. I don’t get out much,” he joked as he twirled his spaghetti around his fork.
“Do you ever get tired of being two people, Mr. Queen?” Chloe asked.
Oliver’s hand stilled halfway to his mouth and his eyes met hers. “What do you mean?” He tried to keep his voice casual.
Chloe frowned. The question had obviously surprised him, but there was something else in his eyes that she couldn’t quite read. He was looking at her like she had too much information and for the first time since she’d met him, he seemed nervous.
“I mean your public persona,” she clarified. She saw his shoulders relax and wondered what he’d thought she meant. “You have this wild reputation that you don’t seem to mind. Your face is constantly splashed all over the tabloids - and forgive me for being blunt - you come off like an arrogant jackass in most of your interviews. But that doesn’t really go with the man who just spoke so passionately about his company for the past half hour. It must be exhausting being two people.”
He set down his fork and picked up his water glass. His eyes never left hers as he seemed to contemplate her question. “What makes you so sure that my public persona - as you put it - is not the real me?” Oliver challenged.
It was a valid question considering Chloe had only known the man for an hour. Anyone could fake their way through an interview, especially someone who dealt with the press on a daily basis. But her instincts told her she was right about this, about him. She was good at watching people and reading between the lines.
She tapped her fork against his wine glass. “Let’s start with this,” she said. “From what I’ve read in the papers - and I’m using that term lightly - Oliver Queen always has a drink in his hand and is usually buzzed or well on his way to being drunk. You’ve barely had two sips of this and one of those was when the manager brought it out so it was only polite to taste it and tell him how good it was.”
Oliver raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything so she continued.
“You’ve apologized to me each time someone has come over and interrupted us,” Chloe pointed out. “I suppose I could write that off as you falling back on your charm school manners, but if that were the case you probably would have started bragging about how hard it is for you to go anywhere without people fawning and it’s just another day in the life of a billionaire. But each time, your apology was genuine and you always went right back to answering my questions.”
“Good manners are important,” Oliver commented.
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Yes they are and yours are excellent, but that’s not the point. You let people see what they want to see and you tailor yourself to fit their needs. Tell me, Mr. Queen, why have you been so honest with me?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Oliver admitted. He had been asking himself that very question since they’d sat down. He didn’t mind talking about Queen Industries. He was proud of his company and the work they did. He wished more reporters would ask him about business instead of his social life, but he had still gone beyond his normal talking points with Chloe. There was something about her that got to him. “Maybe because you’re one of the few people who have ever approached me without setting an agenda based on preconceived notions,” he said.
“Well I appreciate your honesty,” Chloe said. “Now, let’s get real and talk about your sex life, Mr. Queen. Do you prefer blondes or brunettes?” she asked.
His eyes widened and he choked on his water. “Excuse me?” he stammered.
Chloe burst out laughing. She immediately covered her mouth when the people at the next table turned to stare. “Sorry,” she said quickly. She giggled behind her hand as Oliver used his napkin to brush the water off his tie. “I couldn’t resist. Feel free to send me your drying cleaning bill.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary. I throw my clothes away after each use,” Oliver drawled. His eyes were sparkling with humor when they met hers.
She nodded. “That makes perfect sense. I think I’ll use that in my opening paragraph.”
“I’m not an easy person to catch off guard,” Oliver commented. His eyes met and held hers. “I’ll have to pay you back for that when you least expect it.”
His words sent a shiver down her spine and she wondered if that was a promise. Chloe shifted uncomfortably as he watched her with that intense gaze. It seemed like he was searching for something again and the fact that she desperately wanted to give him whatever it was set off warning bells in her head.
Chloe took a long sip of water and steered the conversation back to business. “I wanted to ask you about Dark Thursday. Queen Industries had the only working satellites in the world. How did you manage that?”
His trademark smirk returned at the shift in conversation. “I’m sorry, Miss Sullivan, but that is classified information. Let’s just say that I settle for nothing less than the best,” he said.
Chloe nodded. “I can respect that. Queen Industries has done a lot to help with the cleanup efforts and you’ve personally donated millions. Is there a reason this particular cause struck you?” she asked.
Oliver swallowed his food and reached for his water, his eyes never leaving hers. “A worldwide technology blackout is a scary thing considering how much we depend on technology every minute of the day. The fact that it was used against us by whatever it was that caused Dark Thursday made me want to get involved. What about you, Miss Sullivan? Metropolis was hit harder than any other city in the world. What was it like being there?”
“Scary,” Chloe admitted. She didn’t add that knowing it was an alien force that had taken over Lex Luthor’s body and started the whole thing only added to the fear factor. “The city was in chaos and I wasn’t sure I was going to make it through the night.” She offered him a small smile. “But lucky for me I was at the Planet so at least I would have died doing what I did best,” she teased.
Oliver laughed. “Well, there’s that,” he joked. “Of course, you must be used to strange occurrences after growing up in a place like Smallville. I’ve read some…interesting stories about things that happened there.”
“You have no idea,” Chloe replied. She leaned forward slightly and motioned for him to come closer. “I could tell you stories that would make your head spin, Mr. Queen.”
“Oliver,” he corrected. “I think it’s only fair considering you officially know me better than anyone else, Miss Sullivan. I would love to hear all of your stories,” he added.
She rolled her eyes at the flirtatious undertones of his voice, but she couldn’t help smiling. “In that case, you can call me Chloe. But don’t let it go to your head. I’d hate to be responsible for your ego getting bigger.”
He laughed again. “You might be good for my ego, Chloe. You can slap me around whenever it gets out of hand.”
Chloe nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose I could give up being a reporter for that privilege. What’s the pay like?”
“I’m sure we can work something out,” Oliver replied easily. “But the real benefit would be all the time you got to spent with me.”
She tapped her chin, pretending to consider it. “Wow that really is an amazing offer. Can I borrow your phone? I need to call my boss and let him know I have a new babysitting job.”
Oliver snorted. “Maybe I should rethink this,” he said. “After a few days with you, I might need therapy to repair my self-esteem.”
“Yes, you seem very fragile.”
“I am.” Oliver laid a hand over his heart. “You’re wounding me, Chloe.”
She smirked as she sipped her water. “Somehow, I doubt that.”
The server reappeared and asked if they would like to see the dessert menu. Oliver glanced at Chloe. “Interested?” he asked.
“Tempting, but I have to decline,” Chloe replied. She smiled sweetly. “This article about your cologne preferences is not going to write itself.”
Oliver rolled his eyes, but he was grinning as he reached for his wallet. His smile faltered slightly when he saw her reaching for her own. “Are you planning on fighting me for the check?” he asked.
Chloe gave him a hard look. “Seriously, Mr. Queen, how would it look if I let you buy me lunch? If I say anything nice about you in my article, people will assume you bought me off,” she said. She took the check from his hand and glanced at the bill. “We’ll split it,” she said. “Besides, the Post will reimburse me.”
Oliver wanted to argue, but the look on her face told him it was pointless. “Fine, but I will leave the tip,” he said firmly.
“Whatever makes you feel manly,” Chloe teased. She tossed her money on the table and set her notebook and tape recorder back into her purse. She couldn’t wait to see the look on her editor’s face when she showed him her story.
She let Oliver politely take her arm as he led her out of the restaurant. The temperature had spiked in the afternoon sun and the smell of the ocean called out to her again. Chloe decided she was going to have to spend at least a few hours at the beach sometime in the next two days or she’d be kicking herself when she got back to Kansas. She turned to thank Oliver for his time and was surprised to find him watching her closely.
“How much longer are you going to be in Star City?” he asked.
“Two more days,” Chloe replied. “I was just thinking that I need to find time to go to the beach. My cousin would never let me hear the end of it if I came back this pale.” She held up her arm for emphasis.
Oliver’s dark eyes locked with hers. Two days was not nearly enough time in his opinion. “Have dinner with me,” he said in a tone that was more of a statement than a question.
Chloe’s throat was suddenly very dry. “I can’t. It’s a conflict of interest,” she pointed out.
“Fine, have dinner with me tomorrow night after your article is published. Unless you’re planning a follow up, there won’t be a conflict,” Oliver said.
She shook her head quickly. “I can’t. I…” Chloe turned her head away from his piercing gaze to try and recover her wits. She was surprised to see a man standing twenty feet away pointing in their direction. She assumed he was probably pointing at Oliver, but there was something familiar about him. She squinted to try and see better against the glare of the sun.
“You can at least look at me while you’re brushing me off,” Oliver said. His tone was good-natured, but he frowned when Chloe didn’t even glance at him. “Chloe?”
“Sorry,” Chloe said. She turned her attention back to Oliver. “I wasn’t brushing you off. I mean, I was,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “But it’s nothing personal. It just wouldn’t be right.” She glanced back at the man and saw he was still watching them.
Oliver followed her gaze to the guy who looked to be in his early twenties. He had a baseball hat pulled low over his face and he was wearing sunglasses but he was obviously looking right at them, specifically at Chloe. “Do you know that guy?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Chloe said. She looked up at Oliver. “He looks like someone I went to high school with, but that seems pretty unlikely. What are the odds that two people from Smallville would be in Star City?”
“The world tends to be a lot smaller than we think it is,” Oliver commented. “Do you want to walk over there?” he asked.
Chloe shook her head. “That’s not necessary. I really don’t think it’s him.” She glanced over again and saw that the man was gone. “It’s probably just my imagination playing tricks on me.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Queen.”
“Oliver,” he reminded her. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders and turned her slightly so she was facing him. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind about dinner?”
Her breath caught in her throat and she cursed herself for the reaction that went through her body when his hands touched her. “No,” Chloe said. “But it was nice to meet you.”
Oliver laughed and dropped his hands from her shoulders. “It was nice to meet you too.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “This is my personal cell phone number. Feel free to call me if you ever need anything. Business or pleasure,” he added with a grin.
The way he said “pleasure” sent a shiver down her spine. Chloe took the card and slipped it into her purse. “Have a good afternoon, Oliver,” she said.
“You too, Chloe,” Oliver replied. He watched her walk away and took the opportunity to check out her curves one last time. With a smile, he turned and instead of heading in the direction of Queen Industries, he walked briskly across the street toward the corner the man had been watching Chloe from.
He’d had a decent head start, but Oliver covered the distance quickly, his eyes carefully scanning the area to see where he might have gone. He turned the corner just in time to see the man getting into the back of a dark van. He barely had the door closed before the driver pulled away from the curb, tires squealing against the gravel.
Oliver frowned as he watched the van disappear around the next corner. The whole thing seemed a little too suspicious to be a coincidence. The guy had been watching Chloe and she’d said he looked like someone she knew from high school. It was Oliver’s experience that dark vans were usually trouble.
“What have you gotten yourself into, Chloe?”
Two.