An Origin Story: 14/23
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 13)
Next (Chapter 15)
Chapter 14:
Another Visit From John Little
After that night, things got...out of hand, in Chloe's opinion. In Oliver's opinion, they were going exactly the way they should be.
Chloe's return into Oliver's life after a month and a half of absence was not only noted by several gossip-mongering magazines - whose speculations on the rift ranged from a secret affair to the realization first that Chloe was a gold-digger and then (in order to explain their sudden amends) that she was not a gold digger - but also celebrated immensely by Oliver's parents.
Chloe's intention was to pretend nothing had happened, that they had both just been busy. The magazines' intentions were to pretend that it was the most exciting thing in the world because in their eyes nothing sold better than scandal (forget that somewhere in Europe Bart had managed to hang several infamous art thieves from a giant chandelier in the middle of the museum they'd broken into). Robert and Laura Queen's intention appeared to be to make sure that Chloe had neither the desire nor the means to ever run off like that again.
"Chloe, love," Laura said to her over the phone within three days of Chloe's rescue-Oliver-from-himself-mission. "I'm putting together a luncheon for some old friends. I'd love to have you over to help me test the menu out."
Strategically, Chloe thought, as she tasted her fiftieth kind of sandwich the next day, it was all somewhat brilliant. In order to prevent Chloe from leaving, she would simply make her love Oliver's parents as much as humanly possible, and then be sure to make her feel guilty about staying away for too long. This way, she would not, in good conscience, be able to go more than thirty-six hours without having some sort of contact with at least one of Oliver's parents. It was masterful, really, she sighed.
Laura Queen was a woman who knew what she liked. For some reason that Chloe had yet to fully comprehend, Laura had decided that she liked Chloe. Maybe she thought Chloe was a good influence on Oliver, since Chloe was so different from the socialites Oliver normally surrounded himself with. She supposed she was, in Mrs. Queen's eyes, wholesome.
Robert Queen, too, had formed an inexplicable attachment to Chloe. Nearly every time his wife invited Chloe over for anything now, he spontaneously popped up. He would talk to Chloe about world news, business, whatever happened to intrigue or amuse him that day. To Chloe's hidden astonishment, he hung on her every word. He waited and listened to her responses, totally captured by whatever she had to say, pleased when she agreed with him, and happily surprised when she disagreed, but always amused by her energy and passion over every opinion.
And then there was Oliver.
Yes, Oliver.
Oliver Queen.
What the hell is he up to? Chloe thought vehemently. A week after kissing her at complete random - never mind the fact that she had kicked off that evening by throwing herself at him-Oliver was still acting oddly. They were attending a birthday party for one of the Robert Queen's business associates, a man who was also an old family friend, apparently, and Oliver had invited Chloe as his date.
In and of itself, that was nothing very extraordinary. Chloe had been Oliver's 'date' countless times, except that, as she had so articulately explained to Bruce Wayne one evening, she wasn't a real date. There wasn't supposed to be a romantic obligation from either party.
Oliver hadn't said anything to alter that arrangement. By all reasonable standards, that should mean that everything was exactly the way she'd left it Christmas Eve, and yet it just wasn't.
Everything was different because Oliver was different. He rarely allowed her to split away from him for more than a moment or two. While he wasn't controlling enough to stop her from dancing with someone else if she wanted to, he always appeared at the end of the song to whisk her away again. And he kept...well, touching her.
Chloe knew it wasn't that drastic. She was sure he'd done it before, even, although she honestly couldn't remember when, but for whatever reason, Oliver's hand on the small of her back, the pad of his thumb softly brushing back and forth in a soothing, absent manner, had her stomach doing acrobatics. She knew they'd danced together infinite times, and perhaps it was all in her imagination, but she was certain he was holding her ever so slightly closer than he used to at the moment, and his hand seemed to have something entirely unrelated to friendship on its mind when it took hold of her own.
When he leaned over to whisper something to her, his lips brushed against the shell of her ear and she had to battle against the immediate shivers he sent down her spine. Did that used to happen? She was sure it hadn't. For the life of her, though, she couldn't be absolutely certain that Oliver's lips had never come into contact with her ear before.
And then he was looking at her differently. Ever since she'd laughed at him and said how silly it was to wonder what it was like to kiss her, and he'd responded "The first two didn't count," she'd seen it. There was just something...there, something in the glint of his eyes when he looked at her, something that seemed to go hand in hand with his charming yet arrogant smirk so well it was maddening. And it kept focusing on her.
"Chloe?"
"Hmm?" she squeaked, realizing she'd been counting the number of times his thumb had moved over her dress since he placed his hand on her back. Thirty-nine -
"I asked if you wanted something to drink."
Forty. "Oh," she said, startled. "Oh, right. A drink. Yes, a drink would be wonderful." Bring the bottle, why don't you?
Oliver grinned at her before heading to find a waiter. As soon as she couldn't see his face, he felt the smirk fall in place.
She really was being ridiculous. He didn't see what was so difficult to grasp about the situation, honestly.
Oliver had finally put a few pieces together in the Chloe Sullivan puzzle. First, he realized that he was unaccountably fortunate for listening to her the first time they had danced and not flirting with her. Second, he had realized that he was undeniably stupid for listening to her the first time they danced and not flirting with her.
He was fortunate because Chloe didn't trust people, not immediately, and she especially didn't trust people who made romantic advances on her. In his ability to convince her that he didn't mind just being friends, he had ensured that she became comfortable around him, and coincidentally brought into his life a friend and relationship that he valued above almost anything else.
He was undeniably stupid, because he had fallen into her trap, the proverbial safe zone where he wasn't allowed to do anything that might jeopardize 'the friendship.' It was clever, really. By placing him in the category of friend, she successfully guaranteed that any movement towards something other than friendship could be treated with utter confusion and essentially thought of as absurd.
And yet, he wasn't worried. Being friends with Chloe meant he had the upper hand. He was in past all the barriers and guards that she put up for other men. She was comfortable around him, trusted him (thank God), cared about him, and had become irrevocably attached to having him in her life. After a month and a half of not speaking to each other, Chloe had informed him that if he ever did it again, she might have to move back to Metropolis and live with Lois just so she would have someone 'remotely sane' to talk to again.
"Lois is sane?"
"My other options are Annette, Leanne, and Jeremy. And Leanne falls under your territory, so really it's just Annette and Jeremy."
"You're right. Lois is your only sane friend. Although personally, I don't think it's Jeremy's fault he doesn't do girl talk..."
The important thing was that he was perfectly positioned to ease her into the idea of the two of them as more than just friends. He'd thought about it carefully- -had had no choice but to do so, actually, as he hadn't slept at all the night after she walked into his apartment and started making out with her- -and he realized the key was to be stealthy about it. If he just suddenly threw at her that he wanted to date her, she'd laugh in his face, or worse, run like mad in the opposite direction. So instead, he was...well, for lack of a better word, seducing her. Slowly but surely, step by step he was introducing the idea into her mind until eventually it wouldn't seem so ludicrous to her anymore.
He picked up the drinks from the waiter and returned to find Chloe the object-yet again-of another man's attention. Ryker Davis, a Queen Industries executive, was chatting her up. Oliver watched with an eyebrow quirked as he made Chloe laugh, thinking like an amateur that he was in until he made the rookie mistake of touching her arm, causing Chloe to subtly draw back, just like she was always did.
Grinning to himself, he was about to swoop in to her rescue, when someone else did it for him. Oliver nearly dropped the martini glasses in surprise.
"Hey, beautiful," Hal said, sliding his hand confidently over her shoulder. "Davis," he greeted the other man. Then he turned back to Chloe. "Darling, I've been looking all over for you. I don't know how you managed to slip off without my noticing."
Oliver rolled his eyes. Ryker Davis merely looked confused. "Jordan. I didn't realize you were here."
"Just in town for a couple of days. Had to spend some time with my favorite girl and all."
Chloe, meanwhile, was staring at him like he'd lost his mind. Ryker didn't notice, but said something vague about seeing someone vague before vaguely excusing himself.
Hal's arm stayed around Chloe's shoulder and she raised a questioning eyebrow at him as Oliver approached them. "Miss me, Miss Sullivan?" Hal asked cheekily.
"Seeing as she probably has no idea who you are, I doubt it," Oliver suggested lightly, eyeing Hal's hand on Chloe's shoulder until he dropped it.
"Oh right. Mask. Duh."
Chloe stared at him.
Oliver sighed. "Chloe, this is Hal Jordan."
Chloe extended her hand politely, and Hal kissed it in the same fashion Bruce Wayne so often did. "H-have we met?" Chloe asked, trying valiantly not to show how confused she was.
"Yes," Hal said.
"No," Oliver replied simultaneously.
Chloe looked bemused.
"I believe your exact words were, 'Unlike normal people, who have every reason to be grateful for people like you, I just end up having my life unbearably complicated by your existence,' or something to that effect anyway," he grinned at her, taking the martinis off Oliver's hands and handing her one before taking a sip of the other for himself.
Chloe was frowning at him before understanding suddenly washed over her. Her mouth opened slightly.
"I tend to have that effect," he joked.
"Chloe, Hal is an old friend. He's also-"
"The Green Lantern," Chloe finished.
"Good memory," Hal nodded approvingly. "I see you didn't tell her everyone's secret then, Ollie. Just yours?" he asked, eyebrows up.
Oliver was still trying to figure out what Hal was doing there. "Why are you here?" he asked finally, giving up all semblance of subtlety.
"Glad you asked," Hal said, raising his drink to Oliver. "I like that about him," he mentioned to Chloe. "Very direct. To the point. Never wastes time - "
"Like you're doing now?" Oliver asked amusedly.
Chloe giggled, and Oliver placed his hand on her waist. Hal noticed. "Glad to see you two have made up from your little lover's spat, then. In the future," he stage-whispered to Chloe, "call me. I'll give you something embarrassing to blackmail him with until he admits you're right."
Chloe laughed, she was beginning to like this man.
"Hal," Oliver dragged him back to business. "Not that I'm not always thrilled to see you or anything - "
"Which you're not for once," Hal joked. He could tell Oliver was less than pleased.
" - but why exactly are you here again?"
"Needed some help. She offered," he defended at the surprised look on Oliver's face.
"Beg pardon?"
"Look, this is a party. I don't make business propositions at parties. It's bad for my health. Why don't we all do dinner or something? I imagine you won't let me take her alone, so you can come along, too, kiddo," he joked to Oliver.
"Need my help with what?" Chloe asked.
"Later," Hal said. "For now," he set his drink aside and offered his hand to Chloe, "would you like to dance?"
Chloe couldn't help it. She grinned, sending Oliver a helpless look as she placed her hand in Hal's and allowed herself to be carried away.
"What's the Jordan boy doing here?" asked a surprised voice.
Oliver turned to see his father and shrugged. "What's he ever doing? Passing through, stopped by to see me."
Robert shook his head. "That boy's a test pilot isn't he? I didn't realize his job required so much travel."
Oliver decided it was wisest not to respond directly. "How's Richard?" he asked, referring to the man whose party it was.
"Fine, fine. Son, may I be so bold as to do the thing that every child hopes his parent will never do?"
"What's that, Dad?" Oliver asked, amused more than concerned.
"Ask you a direct question."
Oliver chuckled. "Go for it."
"Are you doing anything where that's concerned?" he asked, nodding in Chloe and Hal's direction.
Oliver tried not to choke in surprise. "Working on it," he said, half coughing, half laughing the words as he turned to his father in surprise.
"Good," he said, clapping Oliver on the shoulder as the two of them watched Chloe dance with Hal, laughing at something he said to her. "Because I'd hate to have to disown you. Enjoy the party," he added carelessly, slipping back into the fray.
"Chloe, you look stunning," Hal greeted Chloe a day later, rising from his chair as Oliver and Chloe approached the table.
"Thank you," she smiled graciously, sitting down in the chair Oliver pulled out for her. "So what is it I can do for you, Hal?" she asked, leaning toward him to rest her chin on her hand after their waitress walked away from taking their orders.
He smirked at Oliver. "You two really are a match made in Heaven. There's never any small talk with you two." He shook his head, sighing. "And didn't I tell you she wouldn't mind helping?" he added smugly, in response to Oliver's attempts over the past few hours to drag out of him what it was he wanted from Chloe. Oliver just wanted to be sure Hal wasn't going to drag Chloe into something she shouldn't get involved with.
"Just get on with it, Hal."
"Fine. But only because she asked nicely." He smirked and Oliver rolled his eyes. He was sure Hal was being an ass on purpose. "Look, I have to leave the planet for a couple of weeks and - "
Chloe choked on her wine. Her eyebrows shot up at Hal.
" - and I need someone to create a convincing cover-story for my boss and whatnot. Carol's been getting more and more suspicious of all my absences, and I want to make sure I've got an air-tight alibi this time. Someone told me you were the person to talk to." He looked to Chloe.
Chloe raised an eyebrow at him. "Who?"
He grinned. "Guy I met in Metropolis. We've helped each other out a couple of times now and he recommended. Said you were good with this kind of thing."
Chloe shook her head, stifling a small laugh. She was sure there was a lot more to the story than that. Clark didn't just hand out her business card. She'd have to ask him about it sometime.
Finally Chloe nodded. "It shouldn't be a problem. Where would you like to have your imaginary vacation?"
"So you can really do that?"
"This from the man who says he's leaving the planet in a couple of days," Chloe laughed.
"Where exactly are you going?" Oliver followed up, eyes narrowing.
"Nowhere that you guys have heard of or need to worry about. The Corps is getting irritated with me for sticking around my home planet so much. I need to do a few rounds to keep everyone happy."
Chloe stared. "Obviously there's a big long backstory I'm missing here."
"I'll write you a letter while I'm gone. But only if you promise to write back," he added teasingly.
Chloe shook her head. "Aliens."
"I'll have you know that I, personally, am not an alien."
She laughed. "I remember. You told me the first time we met. That's really all you need, though?" she asked more seriously.
"That's all I need, beautiful. Just a cover-story so no one wonders where I've run off to."
"Well that much I can definitely do for you." She was smirking.
"What?" Oliver asked.
Chloe just sighed as their food was brought to them. "One way or another, they all come to me."
Later that evening, Chloe was allowing Oliver to take her back to his place. Staying the night at Oliver's was nothing exceptional. She'd done it dozens of times in the past year. Since parting ways with Hal, though, Oliver had begun teasing her about being a sidekick, again, and Chloe was about ready to clobber him.
"Aw, come on, I think it's cute," he teased, arm around her waist affectionately. He squeezed her into his side slightly. "Although I still insist we come up with a costume design. You know you want one."
"Hmm, unlike you," she said in the elevator, "I do not have a fetish for leather. I think I'm good."
"Admit you think the costume is sexy," he said.
"Fine. The costume is sexy. Now if we could just do something about finding someone sexy enough to wear it."
He gave her a hurt look as she made her way to the guest bedroom where some of her clothes were still waiting for her from before their fight. "Ouch. That one cuts me deep."
"Good. Your ego is in desperate need of deflation."
"Oh, Sidekick. We both know you secretly love me."
"Would you quit calling me Sidekick?" she called from her room as Oliver loosened his tie.
"No," he called back cockily.
He laughed as he heard her frustrated groan.
"So," he asked when he heard her re-enter the room in her sweats. "Movie?"
"Duh," she said. "Ice cream?"
"I stocked your favorite."
"God, I love you," she said as she opened his freezer and found a pint of mocha almond fudge. She grabbed it and the pint of chocolate for him and pulled a pair of spoons from his drawer before walking over to the couch and sitting down.
Oliver's eyebrows went up when she sat down at the opposite end of the couch from him. She tossed him his ice cream and pulled her legs up to her chest as though she were making herself as small as possible. She didn't look uncomfortable or anything. Actually, she looked perfectly fine, and if he hadn't been used to her practically lying on top of him for their previous movie nights, he never would have thought anything of it.
Half way through the movie, though, she finished off her ice cream and Oliver could tell she was cold.
"All right," he said, "that's enough." He paused the movie.
She looked up. "What?"
"You're freezing."
"I'm...chilly."
He rolled his eyes, laughing at her. "You just ate half a pint of ice cream and you have goose bumps. C'mere." He grabbed her and pulled her over so that she was between his legs, back resting against his chest. "Better?" he asked, smirking at the way her tense muscles instantly relaxed.
"Maybe," she admitted grudgingly as he put the movie back on, a smile tugging at her lips as she snuggled into him. Then she felt his lips press against the top of her head and the smile slipped to be replaced by a blush.
"Good."
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Next (Chapter 15)