Title: Survival of the Scorned
Category: Smallville
Rating: T
Genre: Drama/Romance/Friendship
Pairing: Chloe/Oliver
Prompt: #034 - Ambiguity (Vague)
Word Count: 7,030
Summary: With Clark no longer playing best friend to Chloe, she's had to do what she does best. Survive. It helps that a certain leather toting hero wants to help.
Survival of the Scorned
Two and a half years. Chloe Sullivan and Clark Kent hadn't been true-blue best friends for two and a half years. He visited, appeared in her life like a distant acquaintance, needing her hacking skills and the knowledge she'd acquired via her Watchtower status. And she supplied what she deemed need-to-know for her former alien bestie. But all was not what it had been; gone were the days when she shared her secrets and her life with him. Now, instead, they led separate lives. While he was off playing super-hero, romancing her cousin, and buddying up with Zod, Chloe had gone on to do what she did best. Survive.
Where one hero had left her, another had taken his place. And this one had worked to earn her trust, to earn his place in her high esteem. Much as she'd been hurt in the past, kicked and looked over time and again, she was no longer the innocent, hopeful girl she'd once been. She was Watchtower; the knowledge base of the Justice League, peacekeeper and shot-caller. She walked her team through deadly territory and she made sure they always came out alive. So while Clark Kent could doubt her and her abilities all he wanted, she knew where she stood, she knew where she belonged, and she wouldn't deny her destiny.
She kept things vague with Clark, he didn't need or want to know about her life and she no longer felt the desire to share it with him. Her cousin was a different story; Lois was family and regardless of her ties to Clark, she was still a lifeline that Chloe sorely needed. So while Lois had to play in-between and had raised the subject of tension between them, she knew to leave it alone. And if Clark wanted a dose of Chloe-life, all he had to do was ask his girlfriend.
A lot can happen in two and a half years. After the deaths of Jimmy and Davis, she had a lot of thinking to do, a lot of rewiring and personal exploration. Much as she'd loved Jimmy and wanted to save Davis, it was herself that had been all wrong. She'd made mistakes and in the process had tried to be someone she wasn't. Jimmy's wife didn't mix with the hero inside her; the domestic life where she played hero behind the scenes, never to share her secrets, was a ticking time bomb waiting to blow. Davis had taught her one thing in the whole terrible mess; she wasn't who she thought she was. Chloe Sullivan was not meant to lead a double life, but instead the one lifestyle that suited her. Watchtower, full time. It was her desire to save that had been the end of her marriage; she didn't choose Davis over Jimmy. She chose herself, the hero that lived inside her. Was it a bad decision? No. It was just poorly executed. And hard as the lesson was to learn, she knew now.
A whole bucketful of regrets later, working through them and coming to grips with her part in everything, she was finally getting back on track. She had the kind of career that was made for her; it wasn't something she could brag about to others and it wouldn't seem glamorous to some. It had its downsides, including all kinds of murder plots, a high depression rate, and the fear that her work and her team might not always be there. But they went on, they survived, and each day she woke up knowing that she was a part of something huge, something world-altering.
If only she'd learned that earlier, she could've saved Jimmy from his fate. They never would've married and she would've heeded his fears from the beginning rather than push them aside and force them both into a marriage neither of them were fit for. And maybe she would've let Oliver take that shot and end Davis' life before he could do more damage, she didn't know. But in the end, it was all said and done, and those who walked away from it could only learn.
"Chloe," Clark said, appearing in the Watchtower out of what might seem like thin air.
"Clark," she replied, clipped. "What do you need?"
He looked uncomfortable, as if he was still trying to come-to-grips with this new angle to their relationship. "I went to see Oliver… He said you'd be able to update me on the latest movements of Zod and his Kandorians."
Her lips pursed, brow cocking. "Thought you were still weaseling around in Zod's playground."
He sighed. "I am… But I can't exactly ask too many questions just yet. I need to know where his Kandorians are running off to. And whether all of them have come under Zod's command."
Shoulders stiff, she turned to pull up the screen, zeroing in on the Kandorians based world-wide. "Look all you want, but don't touch anything," she muttered before walking back to her desk.
Scanning what she'd offered up, he glanced over at her. "Oliver said you'd been spending a lot of time with him and his team."
"Oliver seems to be saying a lot." Smiling sarcastically, she rolled her eyes at him before returning to her paperwork.
Nodding, he looked back at the screen. It took a moment before he muttered anything more. "I didn't know you were working with him full-time." Disapproval was clear in his tone.
"You didn't ask."
"Chloe—"
"If you've got what you need, I have work to do," she interrupted, uninterested.
With a short frown, he nodded. "Thank you for your help."
She saluted him snarkily, not surprised when he disappeared once more.
This was how they were now and as uncomfortable as it was, she didn't see another option.
***
Two years. Chloe Sullivan and Oliver Queen had teamed up and worked through their trust issues to build a friendship between them that rivaled any before. He was no Clark Kent, she knew that. And neither did he want to be. What Boyscout wasn't, Oliver was. He took the chances and he weighed the options; in the end, he did only what he thought was best for the world. He might not have Clark's sweet down-to-earth innocence, but he did have hope. Hope for the betterment of people, for the good of the world to one day overshadow the bad, and that his merry band of heroes would make a difference.
Where everyone else had willingly left, Oliver came back. She had to push him over the edge in order to bring him back, but when she did he was grateful. And his appreciation wasn't a passing thought. He didn't let her down like some people had. Instead, he stood up, donned his suit, picked up his hero heart and wore it proudly. Best of all, he did that by her side. Instead of running away and leaving all he cared about, he learned from his mistakes and he vowed not to make them again. While Clark was working his angle with Zod, Oliver knew that the rest of the world wasn't on pause and she didn't hesitate when he asked her to join them. Traveling the world to put evil to bed was just her kind of life. Besides, if Clark needed his super-computer, ex-friend, he could find her wherever she went.
She saw cities she never imagined she'd set foot on. Meeting people who were both appreciative for their help and others who could care less. Bearing witness to the depravity of people in different continents to the hope-filled children that only wanted something to believe in. She oversaw everything; from missions to dinner plans to where the boys would sleep each night. While Bart, AC, Dinah and Victor were off enjoying their time away from work, she and Oliver were looking for the next case, the coming target. And he pushed her to take them off, to enjoy herself too, but she was work-oriented and her only desire was to save more.
Being the friend he was, he learned to read her, to get in the way without causing problems. He started slow. Ordering in nice food to eat while they were working, from restaurants that were so high-class they didn't do delivery, but for the sake of Oliver Queen asking. When she started to get tired, her eyes blurring, he would draw her work away from her and start a conversation to lighten the mood, the weight on her shoulders. And every time their missions ended, he ordered that she come along for a celebratory drink. "I'm not asking, Sidekick. Let's go." So she could argue and fight, but in the end, she was sitting there at the bar with her team and she was enjoying herself.
He always there to tell her to take time to herself, to relax. Where Clark thought of her safety or wanted to fly solo, Oliver wanted to take care of her in a different way. Where she was, he was, and it became second nature to just assume that whatever she was doing, it involved Oliver somehow. He'd made his place in her life and she liked having him there. He might've been the boss to the others but he was just her friend. She wasn't intimidated by the Green Arrow routine, if anything she made light of it to keep him from becoming too centered on that part of himself. While she liked the hero, was proud of him even, it was the man that stood next to her as a friend each day. It was the man that listened to her rant about her former friendship with Clark and it was the man who held her when she cried her eyes out over her part in Jimmy's and Davis' deaths.
So while he wasn't Clark Kent, her plaid-wearing best friend since grade 8, he was Oliver Queen… Her billionaire best friend who picked her up when she fell, dusted her off, and never let her get too deep into her work. If he thought she was too involved, he cut her off. He may have needed her, but he wasn't about to lose her to the cause. She had a way of putting her heart into everything, of caring too much, and he saw that. He also saw what happened when it didn't work out. All those years she'd spent playing sidekick to Clark and in the end, his leaving had hurt her. More than the loss of Jimmy or Davis ever had, it was the fact that her best friend could walk away in her time of need that broke her. And Oliver refused to allow her to get that close to anything, to risk feeling that ever again.
That was how she knew that he would be the hero she expected Clark to be. He would be the man she had always wanted Clark to become.
"I've got Chinese food, a bag of fortune cookies and the best coffee you could ask for…" Oliver announced, stepping into her hotel room without pause.
Her brow furrowed. "How'd you get in here? You don't have a key card."
He only smirked in reply. "I'm surprised you haven't yet attacked me for this coffee."
Smiling, she rolled off her bed, which was still covered in dozens of file folders, to take the bags for him.
Shrugging his coat off, he looked over to the mess. "Find anything interesting?"
"Mm," she murmured, inhaling her coffee. "Yeah…"
"Chloe?"
"Hm? Oh… Right." She smiled. "Sorry. Yes, I've found at least three different places that would definitely be our next point of target. We're closer to Belgium, so I thought maybe we'd go there first…" She tapped her chin thoughtfully.
"I'll serve out dinner, you read me the file," he offered.
Climbing onto her bed, she leaned back against the pillows and opened up the case work she'd been going through while he piled their food onto the plates offered by the suite.
"Hey, there's no peanuts in there, right? You checked?" she asked, worriedly.
"Yes," he said, grinning. "I am aware of my own allergies."
"I'm just saying… Peanut oil is used in a lot of foods and—"
"Chloe?"
She bit her lip, staring at the food warily.
"If I go into anaphylactic shock, you have an epi-pen with you at all times anyway… I'll be fine."
She nodded. "Right, but I only have one, so this is a one-fit deal."
Chuckling, he brought her food over and sat down next to her on the bed. "We'll stock you up on epi-pens later. Now eat!"
Rolling her eyes, she dug in, while still holding the file up to read.
It wasn't a night out at some fancy restaurant with matre d's or candles, but it was them and she preferred it this way. Just two friends, some take-out and a little banter.
***
One year, two months. Chloe Sullivan and Oliver Queen had been together exactly fourteen months. She'd been hesitant, putting off any ideas that they could be more than friends and partners. But Oliver was persistent; when he saw something he went for it. And much as she hated being the reward at the end, there was only so much avoiding she could do.
"You've been avoiding me since I kissed you," he announced, lifting an amused brow.
"No. I haven't," she said, walking a wide berth around him as she moved toward her desk to start packing away her files. "I've been busy with work. You remember what that is, right? It was supposed to be happening somewhere in between going in to hack Uri's computer and us making out like teenagers on his desk…"
"It was just a cover-tactic, Sidekick. I figured the only way we weren't going to get arrested was if they thought were just using the room for a little… personal time." He smirked.
"Right…" She frowned. "But did you need to use so much tongue?"
"I've never had that complaint before," he muttered.
"It's not a complaint, exactly." Sighing, she rolled her eyes. "You kiss just fine. It's the fact that we were kissing at all that I'm complaining about."
"Fine's not very flattering."
She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Are you seriously still focused on that?"
He crossed his arms. "I think I can do better than fine. In fact, I'm sure of it."
"Great. You go do that and bring back the poor girl to let me know how it all went…" she replied scathingly. Stuffing her work into her briefcase and putting her laptop away in its bag, she grumbled under her breath as she heard no reply. Upon turning around however, he was standing right behind her, looking down with that charming smile she knew all too well.
"You're gonna worry yourself into an early grave if one little kiss puts you this on edge…"
"Little?" Her brows flew high. "If I remember correctly, you nearly had the top of my dress off and were dry-humping me into the desk when we were caught."
He smirked. "And you weren't moaning for our audience."
"Oliver!" she exclaimed, glaring.
He laughed lightly. "Would it help if I told you I'd wanted to kiss you anyway?"
Her expression fell blank. "What?"
"You're cute when you're cracking codes and making fun of my manhood while you work computer voo-doo circles all around me," he said, shrugging.
She stared at him, blinking. "Cute?"
"Sidekick…" he murmured affectionately. "If I only wanted to keep the guards off our backs, I could've been a little less thorough. For instance… I could've simply kissed your neck…" As if to prove his point, he leaned own, nuzzling her head to the side before he buried his lips against the column of her throat, kissing his way down slowly. His tongue and teeth worked her skin into a heated frenzy. "With a little rearranging of clothes, I wouldn't have had to do much at all. But instead…" His arm wrapped around her waist, squeezing until their pelvises were tight together. "Tell me you don't feel it," he whispered against her ear, nipping her earlobe lightly before he kissed along the shell and buried his face in her hair.
"This is so wrong…" she sighed, but already her body was relaxing into his.
"Why?" he asked, his hands sliding up and down her back, massaging and kneading. "Give me on good reason."
"We're friends," she said, shaking her head. Drawing back, she sighed, pressing her hand to her forehead. "We're friends, Oliver. And right now, I need all of those I can get."
He licked his lips, nodding. "Okay…"
Her brow furrowed. There was no such thing as giving up when it came to him. "Okay?"
Grinning slowly, he lifted a shoulder. "You're not ready… Yet."
She rolled her eyes.
"Trust me… When you are, I'll be there." Cupping her chin, be stroked her lower lip with his thumb. One wink later, and he left her alone in her suite to finish packing.
And he was right.
It was through him that she became ready. Through the little things, like taking her hand when they were walking so she could get used to the feel of it. He brought her favorite coffee to her each morning, along with a newspaper and every once in awhile, he'd greet her with a tulip. When they'd work late and her shoulders would ache, he'd rub them without having to be told, and she learned to appreciate that, how he took her cues and acted rather than asked. He anticipated her in ways nobody else had; what she'd say, do, want, need, everything. And each night, before he left whatever hotel room she was staying in this week, he'd kiss her cheek or her forehead or just the corner of her mouth. And as days and weeks passed, she started wishing he'd do more. She started wanting to feel his lips on hers, on her neck, and his hands on her body. She wanted to know what it was like to be loved by a man like him, who already looked at her like she was the best thing in his life.
So that night, when he stood in her doorway, ready to go back to his own room, and he leaned in to kiss her goodbye, she turned her head just an inch and met his lips head on. His eyes widened a fraction before he stepped forward like the confident person he'd always been. Her arms slid around his neck, fingers threading in his hair, while he drew her in tight against him, nearly lifting her from the floor with the force of his embrace. He tasted like coffee and heat; a mocha warmth that fired through her blood and turned her body on high. And that tongue she'd previously told him there was too much of between friends, she couldn't get enough of it now.
His hands were everywhere, rubbing every inch of her body, from her thighs to her neck. Right there in the doorway of her room, she would've willing stripped down naked and straddled him had he not had the foresight to move them back into the bedroom and kick the door shut behind him. She dragged his coat from his shoulders, threw it to the ground and then worked his buttons free of his shirt while simultaneously gasping for air against his lips. He was so incredibly built; tawny, muscled skin free to her roaming hands. She couldn't touch enough of him, feeling him so hard beneath her fingers.
He stopped her at the bed, leaned over and swept everything from it, not caring that there were loose papers about to go flying everywhere. Work was the last thing on his mind when he turned around and sat on the edge, pulling her in between the part of his legs. Still completely dressed, she stared down at him with desire and some fear all mixed together.
"You're still here," she murmured softly.
He grinned. "I'm not going anywhere."
She felt those words, the promise behind them, deep down in the very core of her soul.
She didn't hesitate when she reached for her blouse and lifted it up and off herself. There was no pausing as he unclipped her bra and tossed it away or unfastened her pants and slipped them down her hips, taking her panties with them. And when he pulled her into his lap, her legs on either side of him, she wasn't the least bit scared. He kissed her chest, where her heart lay, and she knew without a doubt that this was the man she'd been waiting for, dreaming of. He made love to her until everything ached spectacularly. He kissed her from her toes to her temples and not once did she question whether or not he cherished her. And when it was time to return the favor, she went exploring with vigor. She learned every scar, every soft-spot, every inch that made him cry out in desperate pleasure. By the time they laid down to get any sleep, the sun had risen and was glaring at them from outside the window. Ignored for the day, along with any work she might've once drowned herself in, they slept wrapped in each other.
She played with his fingers, sometimes drawing shapes on his palm.
Kissing her shoulder, he sighed against her hair. "You know Bart's gonna flip, right?"
She laughed. "We have an understanding… He loves me from afar and I'm not the least bit offended when he finds a pretty mamacita to sate his impulses."
"I guess that might work for him…" he mused. "I'd rather love you up close and leave the other ladies to somebody else though."
Smiling, she rolled her eyes. "Cheesy, Queen."
"Yes," he agreed, chuckling, "But at least it's true."
Rolling over, she looked up into his sleepy face. Stroking the dark whiskers of his chin, she pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I still want to take this slow… The actual 'us' part, at least. Fun as this was, the last thing I want is for us to jump in headfirst and not come up for air."
He nodded. "Negative on the suffocating to death, got it."
Shaking her head, she lifted a brow at him. "You know what I mean."
Squeezing her, he assured, "Yes… I do."
"And you're okay with it?" she wondered skeptically.
"Chloe… I've waited this long, I can wait a little longer." Tucking her hair behind her ear, he smiled. "I've found that cracking the enigma is very much worth it."
She frowned to hide her amusement. "You think you've got me cracked? You've got a lot more work ahead you than you think, Queen."
He chuckled. "Looking forward to it.
Contrary to their wanting to take it slow, things excelled faster than expected. Given their lifestyles and surroundings, it was only expected that their feelings would evolve faster than a regular couple, who had more time apart. Working together and playing together had them closer than ever. The team wasn't surprised; even if Bart made a fuss that he'd called dibbs first. And eventually, their being a couple was just natural, as if it'd always been that way.
There were close calls that would happen to any couple given their jobs; Oliver nearly died, Chloe was kidnapped one too many times, and being in a relationship that involved your lover risking life and limb on a daily basis had its many panic buttons. But they worked through it, they stuck by each other, and they came out better for it. Where she'd never been able to share her secrets with anybody but Clark in the past, now she had her own vault in Oliver. And likewise, he was willing to share himself with her, knowing that there was nobody who would guard them better than her.
Which was why, on the anniversary of fourteen months since the night it all began, she opened her fortune cookie to find a ring. Platinum band with two diamonds and an emerald, it was just right.
"Oliver?"
Sitting on their bed in a hotel in Hong Kong, surrounded by a mass of papers citing everything from murder to espionage, Oliver Queen proposed.
"I want to always be here, with you…" he said simply. "Marry me, Sidekick."
Tears glittering in her eyes, she couldn't even speak over the emotion stuck in her throat.
"Nod twice for yes," he said, grinning.
Laughing, she did just that.
***
Two weeks. Chloe and Oliver had been back in Metropolis for two short weeks. Upon learning that Zod and his followers had been truly defeated and once more the world at large was safe, the team came back to Metropolis to see for themselves. Clark hadn't called in the cavalry in the end, not that anyone had been surprised. Working solo was what he'd always preferred. Standing in Oliver's high-rise penthouse, Chloe watched as boxes were filled with what had been left behind so long ago. Where once her first watchtower station had been set up was now just an empty office overlooking the elevator. They were moving permanently to Star City, and while their overseas work would never end, they'd be setting up home for a little while yet.
Queen Manor was beautiful, if not a little impersonal. But with her and Oliver moving in, she expected it to return to the glory of the days when Laura and Robert Queen had once lived there. With Queen Industries based in Star City, Oliver would have his business to put his attention on when not playing superhero and Chloe had turned down an offer from the local newspaper. Her full time job was still Watchtower and having just returned from their honeymoon, she had enough responsibilities to care for.
She felt his presence long before he alerted her to his being there.
Tired of the game, she turned to see him standing in all of his tall dark glory. Still wearing the black trench coat, he stared at her a long moment. "You look different," he said, lips pursed every so slightly.
"They're not wrinkles, they're laugh lines," she replied, half-smiling.
He offered her a small grin. "You've been away a long time."
"The rest of the world needed us," she said simply.
"Two and a half years, you could've seen the whole world twice."
She lifted a shoulder. "More like three and a half times."
He nodded, eyes scanning the apartment. "Lois said Oliver was making the move to Star City permanent…"
"As permanent as a man with a jet to fly around the world saving people can be."
He was hesitant to ask something and she didn't bother pushing him. It seemed like the longest awkward moment of her life. Finally, when the suspense became too much, he said it. "And you're going with?"
"Well I did make a promise to stick by him," she mused.
His brows furrowed. "Are you happy out there? With the team?"
"Happier than I've ever been. Yeah, it's exhausting and there's always another problem on the horizon, but…" She shook her head, smiling more to herself than him. "It's where I'm meant to be."
"And the guys? They're treating you all right?"
She frowned. "What's this about, Clark? We've barely talked in the last couple years and now you want to know what my life is like?" Cocking a brow, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I talk to Lois every week; I'd think you'd know enough."
Grimacing, he turned his eyes away. "She's decided if I want to know anything, I have to ask myself. She says she's tired of playing messenger."
Chloe shrugged. "That sounds like her."
He nodded, before uncomfortably asking, "So?"
Huffing, she rolled her eyes. "So what? My life is exactly how it should be. What do you want me to say? I do what you think I do. I'm Watchtower, I oversee everything, I get them in and out and save the little people on the way. I've been everywhere in the world, I've seen everything imaginable. What more do you want, Clark?"
"I don't know…" he admitted. "Knowing you were back, I guess I just… felt like I should be here too… that I should know what's going with you…"
"You had two and a half years to do that. You're a little late."
"I know… And I'm sorry, I—"
"I don't wanna hear it," she interrupted, raising a hand. "I'm tired of apologies and excuses and everything else. I'm just tired. Okay?" Sighing, her shoulders slumped and she moved to sit down on a stool.
"Chloe?" a voice called out, one that made her smile despite the current situation.
"In here," she replied, looking around Clark's now stiff figure.
Oliver stepped inside the living room, glanced at Clark and then moved to stand next to her. "Boyscout," he greeted. "Wasn't expecting to see you here."
Chloe leaned to her side, comfortably braced against Oliver. His arm fell around her shoulders.
Frowning at the nickname, Clark nodded. "Lois told me you were moving. Thought I might drop in and see if you needed a hand."
Oliver looked around the near-empty penthouse. "No… I think the movers have it handled." He smiled, a brow lifted in his old friend's direction. "Heard you took out Zod. Congratulations."
Clark nodded stoically. "I would've called, but…"
"Hey, don't worry about it. We had our hands full anyway… Two years is a long battle to fight and there were other people, other places that needed our attention. We get it." Rubbing Chloe's arm, he looked down at her. "How you feeling?"
She smiled softly. "Tired, as usual."
He frowned. "You've been on your feet all day… Again."
"If I can still see them, I'm gonna use them," she replied, wrinkling her nose.
Oliver chuckled. "Fine… For now."
She rolled her eyes. "You think you'll get you way, but you won't."
He smirked. "We'll see."
Clark cleared his throat quietly, drawing their attention back to him, showing the confusion on his face.
"You haven't told him," Oliver murmured knowingly.
Petulant, she frowned. "He didn't ask."
Rolling his eyes, Oliver stared down at her. "That's the best you've got?"
She pursed her lips. "I didn't feel like sharing."
"You screamed it when you found out. Bart nearly had a heart attack."
Wincing, she lifted a shoulder. "He was having that coughing fit because he was trying to drink three cans of pop at once when I happened to announce our news."
Rubbing her back soothingly, Oliver only shook his head. "If you say so, Sidekick."
"I do," she replied staunchly. "And that makes it true."
Chuckling, he looked back up at Clark. "You gonna tell him or must I?"
"Fine…" Climbing off the stool, Chloe looked up at Oliver and then back at Clark. "Clark… Meet my husband!" she declared, motioning back to Oliver.
Clark blanched while Oliver only stared at her. "That wasn't the news I was suggesting."
"I felt it was best to point that out first," she murmured back. "And surprise two," she said, smiling sarcastically at her former friend, "We're three and a half months pregnant." Slapping Oliver's stomach, she joked, "Imagine how hard it's going to be to work that baby fat off, hey."
Sighing, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "If you were going for shock-value, you've accomplished it."
"You're married… To each other…" Clark sputtered.
"We eloped," Oliver answered. "We would've invited you but… it was a small wedding that really sort've happened in a small chapel in Havana in between jobs… Kind of spur of the moment."
"We were already engaged but there were some mishaps and we just wanted to get it over with," Chloe added.
"Nice way of putting it, sweetheart."
She grinned in reply. "It's not the weddingthat matters, it's the marriage. And ours, my lovely green-leather wearing husband, is fine."
His eyes narrowed. "Fine's not very flattering."
Smirking, she shook her head. "Don't start that again…"
"If I didn't start it, we wouldn't be here."
She pursed her lips. "If you'd learn to put a pause on it, we also wouldn't be having this baby so early."
Smiling, he pressed a hand to her stomach. "I happen to think the timing was perfect. We needed a break from traveling and this will give us some time for just us."
Her brows lifted, unconvinced. "And a screaming, pooping toddler."
"Better than shooting, bleeding bad guys."
She shrugged. "You have a point."
Clark stared at them, brows furrowed. "Does Lois know?"
Chloe and Oliver exchanged a look. "Bart sped her over for the wedding and then brought her back when it was done," Chloe admitted. "I asked her not to tell you."
"Why?"
"Because someone…" She glared back at her husband. "Thought it would be better if I told you in person."
"And the baby? Does she know about that?" he wondered, frowning to himself.
"No… We've been busy with the move since we got back and I haven't had time to really sit down with her."
Looking around him as the news sunk in, Clark sighed. "So this is it… You're moving to Star City… With your husband and… a new baby."
Chloe smiled at him genuinely. "I told you… My life is exactly how it's supposed to be."
He stared at her a long moment and then looked at Oliver, who stood so steadily by her side. The perfect team, partners, husband and wife. "Yeah… I guess you really are."
"Mr. Queen?"
They turned to see a mover holding a clipboard.
"Everything's packed and ready. We hope to have it in Star City by tomorrow afternoon."
"Great. Thank you," he replied, nodding. Looking back at Chloe, he kissed her temple. "I'll go settle the bill with them and meet you downstairs, all right?"
She nodded, watching him leave before she turned back to Clark. "Not quite what you expected, huh?"
"No…"
"Things change… It's been a long time and… we're different people."
"I know…" He glanced behind him, at where Oliver had just left. "Or at least I'm starting to."
"He's a good man," she told him, smiling. "A great man, really."
Clark could only nod.
"If you ever need our help, Star City's just a little run from here, right?" she offered.
"Right."
Sighing, Chloe started walking toward the door. "I'll see you around, Clark."
"Yeah, sure…"
He stood alone in the empty penthouse suite where years ago, he'd met a cocky Oliver Queen. And now, what seemed like a lifetime later, that same man had married his best friend and was starting a family with her. Knowing that the distance between him and Chloe was all his own doing, it still hurt that he wasn't a part of this time in her life. But there was no redemption to be found. As she said, she was different, and her life was in Star City now, with Oliver and their baby. Maybe eventually, if he put effort into it, she might forgive him and he could earn a place in her life. But it was with doubt and hesitance that he try that route. And the knowledge of the fact that his own doubts had been the reason it ended it all in the first place only reminded him that while they may have changed and grown, he was still the same man who willingly walked away from her and the friendship she never once denied him. Maybe she was better off without him, in her new life where she was happy and loved and never forgotten in the grand scheme.
So Clark Kent did what he did best. He left. He continued with his life. And he hoped them the best.
***
Five years. It'd been seven and a half years since Clark had been best friends with Chloe Sullivan and five of those she'd been Chloe Queen. Living a happy life in Star City, California with her five year old daughter Cadence and her adoring husband Oliver. Clark had come and gone, a sight seen at birthdays or holidays due to his marriage to Lois, but he hadn't been a pillar in her life quite like his wife was. He had been on the outside, looking in. And what he saw, he was happy for. In all his life, throughout their entire friendship, never once had she smiled as brightly as she did in Oliver's presence. Never once did she look as radiantly happy as she did when she was with her family. Her team was always at her side, a group of friends that supported each other fully. And Clark watched with some regret that he wasn't included in their extended family. He was Cadence's uncle and Lois' husband, but he was a separate entity from the League and from Chloe. It was his own doing, he understood that, and there was no apology in the world that would make up for it. But if there was anything about the situation that could comfort him it was the knowledge that while he may not play the roll of best friend anymore, she'd found another, more deserving person; her husband.
Christmas at the Queen Manor was one of splendor. The tree was decorated brightly, with every bauble and trinket one could find. With silver garland and green twinkling lights, it stood center in the living room and drew eyes all around. Beneath the boughs, presents of all shapes and sizes were a many; amassed for the couple, their daughter, and all their friends who had come to celebrate the season. With a table of treats piled high and drinks all around, guests were chit-chatting with each other, getting updated on the goings-on of friends and acquaintances. And running around in a flurry of red velvet, her blonde curls bouncing, was five year old Cadence Laura Queen.
Zig-zagging between guests, Cady was running to and fro, her shoes long past tossed in favor of the white tights she wore that slipped on the hardwoods and let her slide in every direction. Searching for more goodies, she giggled as she side-stepped her Uncle AC and headed for the table covered in every cookie she'd ever seen. Eyes wide, she reached out and just about had a chocolate chunk in her hand when she looked up to see her Uncle Clark staring at her.
"Did your mom say you could have that?" he asked.
Pouting, she shook her head. "But daddy didn't say I couldn't!"
Clark chuckled. "Why don't you go ask your parents?"
Stomping her foot, she rolled her eyes. "Fine…"
Turning around, she ran back over to the couple currently embraced next to the tree. Arms wrapped around Chloe's waist, Oliver stood behind her as she leaned back against him. Green silk top matching her eyes, she smiled up at her husband as he whispered something in her ear. A tugging at her pants had Chloe looking down at her daughter. Hands clasped together pleadingly, she hopped on spot while asking for a cookie.
Clark couldn't help but extend his ears to listen in.
"Please, please, please, just one more cookie, momma!"
Oliver grinned. "It is Christmas eve."
Chloe frowned up at him. "You're a pushover, you know that?"
"She has your face," he defended, lifting a shoulder.
Laughing, Chloe looked back down. "Okay, but only one."
"Yes!" she cried, turning and hurrying back.
Her feet caught on the hardwood and sent her flying just seconds later and Clark heard Chloe's exhalation of fear in the same split-second he caught his niece before she could spill. Grinning up at him as if this was nothing out of the ordinary, she announced, "I get a cookie!" Wiggling out of his grip, she tottered over to the table. Clark looked up to see Chloe, clenching her hand around Oliver's arm.
"She's fine," he soothed against her ear.
She nodded, but it took a moment before she relaxed again. Staring at her former best friend, she offered an appreciative nod and Clark smiled back. He might be on the outside, but this was his family too. And whether he and Chloe ever reconciled, he would always want her happiness first and foremost.
"Nice save, Superman," Lois whispered at his side, her arm encircling his waist.
He shrugged it off modestly.
"Have you said hello yet?" she wondered, glancing at her cousin across the room.
"No…" He winced, knowing exactly what she'd do.
"This is ridiculous. We're going over there!"
Despite being a whole lot strong than his wife, he was still dragged across the way. If anyone was more bent on mending the rift, it was Lois. He didn't stop her, because there was really no getting in her way. And as awkward as it always was, he faced them still with a half-smile and a shake of the hand each.
"You tell them the news yet?" Oliver asked his wife, lifting a brow.
"You're so impatient," she muttered, smiling.
"Don't tell me!" Lois exclaimed. "There's another Queen spawn!"
"I think she deserves a prize," Chloe announced, staring at her cousin wryly.
"No way!" Lois glanced up at Clark briefly. "Nice timing, Queens, looks like yours news is the same as ours!"
Chloe's eyes widened. "You're pregnant?"
"I suggested Clark carry it, but he had a list of reasons why not so yeah, I'm carrying the half intergalactic space baby!"
"Oh Lois!" Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around her cousin.
"Congratulations Clark," Oliver said, shaking his head.
"Yeah, you too…"
Oliver cocked a knowing brow. "Looks like our kids will be growing up together."
Yeah, and that rift between him and Chloe was probably going to have to get a whole lot smaller a whole lot quicker.
Her smile was hesitant, but he hoped that eventually she might grin at him like she used to. Maybe some day in the future; if he were to be so lucky.