Title: Foolish

Characters: Chloe Sullivan, Oliver Queen

Spoilers: Pssht, everything...

Rating: PG

Summary: Chloe and Oliver have tried ignoring these new feelings between them but will some force-fed truth remove their blinders? Sequel to Blue Eyes.

Author's Note: This is beta'd by the most awesome Paynesgrey, who crosses fandom boundaries to do this for me.

He could tell himself that it was tradition all he wanted, but the truth of the matter remained that he wanted to be here. It wasn't a four star restaurant, or even a quaint neighborhood bar. It was a dangerous den of iniquity off the beaten path and declared for the underbelly of society, the meteor freaks and meta-humans of the world. You had to have special "gifts" just to get in, which made him the odd man out.

They called the place Chaney's, though Oliver Queen knew that Chaney didn't exist. No one knew who'd started the neutral zone, as this bar had become. No one knew why both heroes and villains alike accepted the neutrality without even a squabble, but after a long night at work, either stopping chaos or causing it, both could be found in the small warehouse that acted as the main part of the bar, studiously ignoring one another and drowning their tension in near-ice cold beer.

Chloe had found it months ago and though both she and Oliver had briefly considered using it to trap certain meteor freaks that crossed the line between bothersome and dangerous, something, or rather someone, had convinced them not to.

Bart, for all his immature flirting and impulsive nature, knew a good thing when he saw it. "Even villains need to take a break, who are we to take it away? Maybe having a drink at the end of the day with their friends will take away some of their edge, make them less likely to kill someone next time they commit a crime." He'd grinned suddenly, speeding from Chloe's side to Oliver's before they could even blink. "Besides, they don't card, and I love beer!"

Oliver had tried to control his young partner, but it'd proven undoable. First Bart, then Arthur and even Victor had taken to going there for drinks after their missions, to unwind in a place where they wouldn't be judged for the clothes they wore or the "gifts" they didn't have to hide there.

When Chloe had started to join them, Oliver knew that he'd have to give in and go to. As unfair as it was, he didn't trust his team to keep her safe, not the way he could.

They all wore their uniforms while there, except Chloe who didn't have one. She, of course, was the least likely to have to worry about anyone recognizing her here. Most of the people who frequented Chaney's knew her already.

With a broad smile that never failed to make Oliver's heart palpitate she pointed out a large blond man getting a beer near the bar. "I haven't seen him since my senior prom. He was dating one of the cheerleaders, and she threw her drink on his head when he wouldn't drag his eyes away from her cleavage."

Oliver smiled and adjusted his glasses as he studied the man she'd pointed out. "What can he do?"

She shrugged and delicately sipped at her Long Island Iced Tea, a girly drink he'd never imagined her drinking. "I didn't even know he was meteor-infected. I didn't know most of these people were," she said as she waved her arm towards the crowd, pausing at the last second to change the gesture to a wave as someone across the room waved to her. "I wish I'd brought some cards for Isis with me."

"Most of these people don't want help, Chloe," Oliver replied quietly as he studied the crowd. No one ventured too close to the booth where he and his team sat, wary even here of the heroes in the crowd. With a shrug to his friends he reached up and turned off his voice distorter. It wasn't like anyone could really hear him over the loud music anyways.

"Most, Ol...Green Arrow," she quickly corrected herself with a small smile of sheepishness. "Most, but not all. Have faith."

"Try not to be foolishly optimistic, sidekick," he replied sharply as he reached for his almost empty bottle of beer in front of him. "You believe in people too much."

"You don't believe in them enough," she countered with a smile, pleasantly drunk enough to not notice that her small, almost childlike fingers were dancing across the lapel of his hood.

"Are you two going to flirt all night?" Victor asked with a smile as he slid into the booth across from them. It'd seemed almost natural when they'd first arrived for Oliver and Chloe to sit next to each other, thighs pressing and bodies brushing as they got comfortable. Certainly the other members of their little group hadn't made anything of it. With Victor's words, however, both Chloe and Oliver realized that without even realizing it they'd invaded one another's "personal" space. They jerked away from one another and separated their bodies, leaving a foot of space between them.

Victor laughed and rolled his eyes. "You two are adorable."

"Shut up, Cyborg," Oliver told him sharply, and the half-man, half-machine felt his boss' glare even through the dark-shaded glasses.

Unfortunately for Oliver and Chloe, A.C. and Bart took that moment to return to the table as well. "What'd the metal-man do?" A.C. asked as he set yet another empty bottle of water on the table to join the other nine bottles he'd left there.

"Only pointing out the obvious to our favorite couple here," Victor replied as he moved over for them to sit down.

"Oh, the sexual attraction?" A.C. asked with a knowing grin that had Chloe blushing bright red and reaching for her cold drink quickly.

"Sexual attraction?" Bart asked with a mischievous grin. "Surely you're speaking of Chloe and I, not Green Bean here. He wouldn't know sexual attraction if it bit him on the...well...you get the picture."

"Impulse," Oliver said warningly, copiously ignoring the blush that was creeping up his own neck. Chloe smiled at the youngest man of the group as she stifled the sudden urge to giggle.

"I don't know, Impulse, maybe it's only one-sided and that's why they're pretending it doesn't exist," A.C. said quickly, before continuing with a large teasing grin. "I mean, I think it's all on Arrow here. He's the one who's shooting her all those longing glances, always making sure to touch her in some way."

"I do not!" Oliver said quickly, glancing at Chloe before away quickly. That blush on his neck had spread to his face and he was suddenly feeling very hot and sweaty, but blamed it on the heat of the bar.

Victor quickly jumped on the bandwagon and picked up the thread where A.C. had left off. "When you're looking at the computer while she's working, you rest your chin on her shoulder and don't think we can't tell you're smelling her hair. Every time she's threatened in any way you're the first person there to rescue her, and considering we've got a speedster on the team, that's saying something."

"She's kinda sitting right here," Chloe interjected as she set down her now empty drink and turned to look at Oliver. "You smell my hair?"

"No!" He said vehemently as he glared at the three co-conspirators across the table. "I do not."

Bart shrugged and leaned back into the booth, crossing his arms resolutely. "I'd hate to say it but maybe it is one-sided, but it's probably on Chloe. Much as I hate to admit it, I've seen the way she gets all worried when he's hurt. It's all 'Where's Oliver?' 'Is he okay?'" Bart pantomimed in a high pitched voice, causing A.C. and Victor to laugh.

Chloe's eyes narrowed and she looked like she was ready to jump across the table and throttle the teenager. "I worry about all of you."

"But especially for Oliver," Victor said. "Whenever you're monitoring the missions, he's always the first person you ask for."

"You're staying in his penthouse...in his bed..." A.C. interjected slyly, his eyes dancing with mirth even as Chloe's teeth started to grind.

"But nothing's happened. He sleeps on the couch!"

"Which is odd, isn't it, boys?" Victor asked. "Man's a billionaire who could buy every hotel in Metropolis twice over...yet he sleeps on the couch..."

"Wow, look at the time, I think it's time for us to get going," Oliver said quickly as he suddenly stood and reached for Chloe's hand.

"You boys have clearly drunk too much," Chloe said sharply as she allowed Oliver to help her out of the booth. "You should go home and get some sleep." She turned to go, then paused and turned back. Clenching her small purse in her hand and calmly reached over and smacked Bart on the head. "And that's for being rude."

With a huff of pure female attitude, Chloe pushed past Oliver and stalked her way out of Chaney's, her irritation clearing a path that Oliver followed with a bemused expression. Outside the air had grown very cool in the dark of night and she shivered almost immediately. Oliver wished he was in civilian clothes, because he could have offered her his jacket. The best he could offer her now was a short but even more chilling, ride home on his bike.

"It's too cold for the bike," he said as they moved away from the bar door and further into the dark of the city. "You want me to get you a cab?"

"No," she said quickly, "it's fine. Let's just get going." She sighed roughly and rubbed her hands up and down her arms for warmth. "They're just...they take the joke too far, you know?"

Oliver nodded but didn't reply. Nothing to say, he felt, since too much of what their friends had implied was true. He did take every opportunity to touch her, but he'd never give a reason as to why. If anyone asked, he'd never admit that he knew she smelled like vanilla and gardenias, or that she used body oil instead of lotion. He'd never admit that since that night those many weeks ago when he'd admitted that he wanted her to stay in his penthouse, he'd been thinking that maybe it was more than that.

She was a good friend, a great partner, and one of the best people he knew. She was beautiful and witty without being intrusive or irritating as most reporters were wont to do. She knew more about computers than she let on, and had insecurities in her abilities that at times he found frustrating but more often than not endearing. She underestimated herself and as a consequence so did everyone else around her.

Oliver knew all those things because he spent entirely too much time thinking about her.

Chloe sighed and ran her hands through her hair as they reached his bike. "I'm sorry if I got snippy back there. Drinking doesn't really...agree with me."

Oliver grinned as he slid onto his bike, prepping and checking it before he started it. "It's fine; you're a cute drunk."

"I'm not drunk."

He glanced at her skeptically. "Get on the bike." She glared at him but did as he said. He held her hand as she moved her body until it pressed snug against his, her bare legs forming goose-bumps as the cold air hit the flesh that had been hidden by her now pushed-up skirt. He pushed up his glasses to stare down at her over his shoulder. "Besides, it's not like they were wrong."

Chloe froze as his words hit her ears, her large green eyes flying up to his as she realized what he said. "They're not wrong?"

He shook his head and forced his expression to remain light-hearted and teasing. "They're not wrong."

He faced forward and let his glasses fall back over his eyes, started the bike and pushed the kickstand back up. He ran his hand down her leg and pulled her tighter to him, not imagining the slight gasp she released as his leather gloved hand touched her almost too intimately.

As he pulled away from the alley and headed towards home, he also knew that he didn't imagine her soft reply just before they'd pulled off.

"I never said they were wrong."

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