Notes: One shot. Response to a prompt by Smallvillefics 'missed birthdays'. And thanks to her for editing it too!
Chloe sighed into the pillow, eyes on the TV, but not really watching. The Jane Austen marathon on BBC had seemed like a good idea at ten in the morning, but as it neared six o'clock, she wasn't so sure watching romance movies had been a good idea, especially for a person spending their birthday alone.
There weren't many people to celebrate it with. Her father was with his new wife in Paris and Lois and Clark had been sent on assignment to Rome. Somehow they all managed to miss her birthday that year, and she couldn't help but be a little resentful considering it was her first since Doomsday. Of course her birthday prior to the event of Doomsday had also been lacking in the people most important to her. That birthday had at least come with a revelation.
The doors flung open and she sat up, back straight and at attention. No one should be coming to see her. "Oliver?"
"I know you have a phone." She sighed in response, obviously a little startled by his appearance, and then laid back down on the sofa. "Taking the day off?" He asked after observing her plaid cotton pants and loose fitting t-shirt. She was void of any makeup and her hair was pushed messily behind her ears.
"Don't I deserve one?" She asked reproachfully, but couldn't help but feel slightly sloppy even in comparison to just his plain jeans and t-shirt.
"Not denying that." Oliver stopped by her table and turned towards the TV, scrunching his face at the British accents. "Are you serious?"
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and grabbed the remote to mute the TV. "Is there something I can do for you?"
"More like the other way around." Oliver walked around the table and sat down on the edge in front of her. She didn't move from her place on the sofa, which somewhat surprised him.
Chloe noted the brown bag he had placed on the floor. "That better not be work." The corner of his mouth turned up in a mischievous grin. "I don't like that look."
"Not work." Oliver unfolded the edges and lifted out the small white cardboard box. She eyed the box with trepidation, only making him grin more. Peeling the tape back, he lifted the top back, revealing the boxes contents.
Chloe lifted her head off the pillow and rolled forward to peer inside the box. The smell of chocolate was the first thing to hit, then she noticed the small round cake nestled inside the box. It was dark and fudgy and looked absolutely wonderful.
"Happy Birthday."
Chloe glanced up at his words, forgetting about the cake and realizing suddenly that Oliver Queen was sitting in front of her holding a birthday cake. There was nothing wrong with it, except for the fact it was absolutely ridiculous. Because Oliver hadn't missed her birthday. Instead he was sitting there with a smile that was far too charming and doing something that was way too endearing. "What's the catch?"
He chuckled softly at her hesitancy and stood up. "Move over sidekick." She sat up in response, moving her legs from one end of the couch and tucking them underneath her. "No catch. Hand me the bag."
Chloe reached over for the brown paper bag. "Then why-?"
"Why bring you a cake on your birthday when no one else has?" She snapped her mouth shut. "It makes more sense when you say it out loud."
"You didn't have to," Chloe said softly, but accepted the plastic fork that he handed her.
"No." Oliver pulled at the corners of the box and folded down the sides. "But I wanted to." He glanced at the space between them and cocked an eyebrow. "I don't bite."
This time she didn't resist from rolling her eyes, but she did scoot forward until her knees her propped slightly on his thigh. "You could have scooted towards me."
"I brought the cake. Why should I have to do all of the work?"
Chloe watched, slightly distracted as he dug his own fork into the cake and lifted a piece of rather dense looking chocolate to her lips. Chloe opened them obligingly and closed her slips around the fork. As the chocolate touched her tongue she sighed and relaxed slightly.
Oliver smirked slightly at the pleased look on her face. "Good?"
"Mhmm."
It was some time later after eating half the cake and setting it aside, and in the middle of Pride and Prejudice that they had fallen into silence. Chloe hadn't moved from her original position. Her knees were still pressed into his legs, but now her cheek rested against the pillow at her back. She tried to keep her attention on the movie, every so often being forced to catch what they were saying because of some inane question Oliver had.
The majority of her thoughts were turned to the man at her side. It was so out of place for them. It should have been Clark or Lois there on her birthday, pulling her from the rut she had fallen into, but it wasn't. It wasn't that they didn't care, but Chloe could see how things had changed. The space that had grown between her and the people she had been so close to. Normally it didn't bother her, because she found something that made living worth while. But sometimes...sometimes she needed the same things everyone else did. "Oliver."
He could hear the difference in her tone as she said his name. It was almost a question, soft and almost pleading. For a brief moment he let himself study her face. The slight wrinkle of her brow, the tired sadness in her eyes. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she shook her head. At least not anything that she wanted to talk about. "Thanks. I know you said you wanted to, but the point was you didn't have to." She expected him to brush it off, either because it wasn't that big of a deal to him or he didn't want to acknowledge it. "And I-."
"Chloe." Oliver interrupted and leaned slightly into her, placing his palm against her face. He offered her a cocky grin. "Shush." She sighed softly in response, and before he had the chance to think things through he pressed a kiss to her forehead, then another to her temple, and another to her cheek. Her body was still against his, and he had to wonder if she welcomed his advances or was too shocked to even move. "Happy Birthday, Chloe."
His breath tickled her ear as he spoke and the light shadow of his beard brushed against her cheek. Slowly she turned her head back to face him, nose brushing against his own before she pulled back enough to see him. "Thank you." He leaned forward again and she inhaled sharply in response, but his lips didn't touch her lips, instead only pressed against the corner of them, and she immediately wished he had. So instead of waiting she tilted her head just slightly, lips brushing over his. Chloe felt only the barest pressure from his lips before the kiss was over. But his hand didn't move from her face.
Unable to pull away from her he trailed his thumb over her cheek and then gently brushed loose strands of blond hair behind her ears. Nothing was said, but sometimes actions speak louder then words. It isn't hard to realize that they both just admitted to the long brewing attraction between them. Instead of pushing it though, he pulled away, pressed another kiss against her forehead, telling himself that it was enough for the moment, and pulled her against him.
Chloe went willingly, sighing as she settled against his side, pillowing her cheek on his chest. His fingers brushed over her hair and up and down her arms, lulling her into sleep. "You're putting me to sleep," Chloe mumbled sleepily and curled closer to him.
"Then go to sleep." Her closed lids fluttered open and green eyes were staring sleepily up at him.
"And then you'll leave." As she said the words she didn't realize how much she suddenly feared them. Because they ALL left, at some point they always left. Sometimes they came back, but they always left again.
"I'll be here when you wake up." She stared up at him, face without emotion, then slowly a soft smile spread over her face. It wasn't the first time she had smiled at him, but it was the first time he could remember seeing it because of something he had done. It pulled at his heart, cementing his feelings for her even more.
Chloe let herself relax against him once again, drifting back to sleep with his fingers making small patters on her hip. The last thing she remembered as she slipped into unconsciousness was his lips pressing against the crown of her head.
The next morning, as promised, she woke against him. Sprawled along her couch, blanket covering them, she was tucked into his body with his arm securely wrapped around her.
