"She's okay?"
"Yeah, she'll be fine. She passed out from the shock." Oliver stood one foot inside Chloe's bedroom, the other on the terrace where their rescuer waited. He'd promised her he'd be there when she woke.
"Bullshit."
"Beg your pardon?"
"No one stays out as a light while they're being hauled up a cord unless they're in a really bad shape but I don't see you rushing her to a doctor for a concussion either. Try again."
Oliver crossed his arms over his chest. The older man in front of him was stockier, but he still had a few inches on the bull. He couldn't quite understand why the man was poising for a fight. He wasn't hoping for a reward or he would have hinted at it already. So what was his deal? Oliver decided to overlook the belligerent attitude and went for another half-truth. "She's terrified of underground black spaces. I had to knock her out before we climbed up."
The man in front of him shook his head with a grunt. "Some things never change. You're always so full of it. I should have let you to rot down that hole."
Oliver glared. "Yet you didn't, Doctor Hall."
The sea-blue eyes narrowed. Hands the size of small hams turned into fists. Oliver braced for a punch. "You think throwing my name in my face is going to impress me, rich boy?"
"Nah, I'm just hoping it'll stop you from doing something really stupid so that I have to kick your ass out of this house. Chloe will have my hide if I do. So… Thank you."
An odd look etched itself on the rugged face. Surprise, Ollie realized, mixed with something else. The man's stance relaxed imperceptibly. "Yes, I suppose she would.
His shoulders dropped as if in defeat. "I'll come by tomorrow. We'll talk."
Hall stole one glance behind Oliver at the blonde silhouette stretched on the bed then spun on his heels and left.
Oliver shook in head in puzzlement. The whole evening was surreal. He'd been on the receiving end of Chloe's healing power before, but never to that extend. His body still hummed from the energy she'd poured into him, the buzz both exhilarating and humbling. He still felt a twinge in his lower back so he guessed he's stopped her in time, but she was inert on the bed, barely breathing.
Her skin was too cool to the touch so he spread a blanket on her, careful of her own injury when he arranged her arms on the top. Her wrist looked slightly swollen. Oliver walked into the bathroom for a first aid kit, and a wash cloth.
He cleaned the cuts and dirt off her arms and hands gently before he bandaged her wrist and returned to the bathroom. Swallowing two aspirins, he stripped to his boxers to take stock of himself in the floor length mirror. Beside the expected bruise on his shoulder and another on his thigh, he seemed unharmed. As if he hadn't lost all the feelings in his legs while his back was on fire a handful of hours ago.
Oliver shuddered. He'd been stabbed, shot, beaten up, and broke several bones several times over. But for a full minute, while he fought to breathe through the pain and the absence of it, he'd envisioned his future confined to a wheelchair, pitied and alone, and he'd been scared like never before. Maybe he'd give some thoughts to that reinforced body armor Bruce kept raving about. Surely the big bat had something that could work with leather. He took a mental note to call Wayne to discuss terms.
With a quick glance toward the bed to make sure Chloe was still sleeping, Oliver stepped into the shower.
Minutes later, he reentered the room calmer—and cleaner. He debated between putting his dirty pants back on or dashing next door for fresh clothes when he heard Chloe stirred on the bed.
"Ollie?"
"Hey… How are you feeling?"
"Dizzy… Why are you naked in my room?"
He wasn't since he'd pulled his underwear on before exiting the bathroom, but her bewildered blush made it worth teasing her. Oliver's lips twitched in mock outrage. "You mean you don't remember our wild night together? Way to deflate a man's ego, Sidekick…"
Chloe pressed both hands to her face to rub the daze off. "Ow…"
The pained moan tore his façade apart. Oliver sat down next to her on the bed. "You're sure you're okay?"
Chloe offered a wan smile which firmed as soon as she caught his stare. "Yes. Little worse for wear, but I'm fine. How long was I out?"
"Not very long. Less than five hours."
"Oh that's an improvement. How are you?"
"Good as new, thanks to you."
"Good." He tried to help her up but she pushed upright with her good arm by herself. "How did we get out?"
Tricky question. He debated about telling her who'd helped them. He'd have to, but if he could let her rest a little longer… Chloe's attention had rerouted to her own clothes. Her nose wringed a little at the disaster her shorts and shirt were. "I have to take a shower…"
Oliver breathed in relief. "All right. I'll go put more clothes on and head to the kitchen for nibbles and drinks."
She carefully moved her legs from under the blanket to the floor with a devious smile which replaced the last worried knots inside him by new cautious ones. "At least this time you didn't undress me."
Oliver chuckled. "It's a lot less fun when you can't return the favor. Take your time. I'll be back in a few."
Satisfied to see her flush dip under her open collar, Oliver flung his towel over his back and escaped toward the adjacent bedroom. Before she chose to sock him in the head with her hairbrush, or he decided to check exactly how far her skin had pinked.
Baby steps.
Chloe surprised him by stealing a piece of flatbread directly from the plate he was arranging. "Sorry. I'm always famished… after."
Oliver handed her a bowl of yogurt dip. "So I see. Do you need something more substantial than snacks? Pasta or a sandwich?"
Chloe perked up. "Do we have what it takes to make mac and cheese?"
"Huh yeah." He peeked into the cupboard. "If you don't mind it being with rotini and Tulum cheese."
She pulled a face. "Come on, Sidekick, where's your sense of adventure?"
"It fell into a very dark, very cold, very nasty pit."
Oliver left the pot to fill in the sink to wrap one hand around her neck. The tip of her wet curls tickled his skin. Funny how 72h and a near-death experience could change the dynamic, he thought. Last Friday night, she could barely tolerate his touch. Now she came willingly into his arms, all but wrapping herself around him. Her head fit in the crook of his neck as if it'd been molded just for it. Her hair smelled like honeysuckle. His heartbeat leveled, and he felt his body relax for the first time in hours.
Oliver dropped a kiss on the top of her head before he released her to offer her a piece of sweet pepper. "Thanks for saving my hide. Again."
She blushed slightly at the praise and said nothing, munching on her threat. Oliver turned off the faucet and put the pot back on the stove. He set it to boil, then turned to take a good look at her.
With her face fresh of make-up and the aftermath of her healing, she looked incredibly young and vulnerable. Two things she hated to be reminded of. She was stronger than she looked. He had to respect that.
"Carter Hall got us out."
To her credit, she didn't gape, or startle. The hand that was about to select another cut vegetable stilled over the plate, and that was it. She took another piece of pepper and bit into it. Her eyes, though, her green eyes sparkled with barely contained emotions while she chewed and swallowed.
"How did he find us?"
"Apparently he noticed our departure from the museum and followed us. When he didn't see us come back to the car with the rest of the tourists, he came to investigate. He left briefly to find a couple of ropes and pulled us out." Oliver paused while she mulled over the information. "I don't know how but he apparently knows who we are. You and me both. He doesn't seem to like me much."
The comment wrang a low chuckle out of her escorted by a sardonic smile. "What did you do? Call him names?"
Oliver laughed in turn. "I would never… Okay, I would have if I had thought of any. I skirted around the truth about your condition once or twice and it annoyed him. It doesn't take much to set him off. Strange bird."
Water bubbled in the pot so Oliver dumped two cups of dry pasta into it and set the timer to eight minutes. "He promised to come by tomorrow so we all can have a chat."
Chloe tensed visibly. "Here? You showed him where we're staying?"
"If he was stalking us, he already knew. If you want to go, I can call my pilot and we're out of Turkey within two hours."
"No." She shook her head. "No, I want to know what he knows. Then we'll see."
"It's your call."
Chloe deliberately broke the corner of the flatbread and changed the subject. "I didn't know you liked to cook so much."
Oliver shrugged a shoulder. His lower back protested the motion so he stretched a little. "This is just pasta. But yeah, I do. There's not much point in hiring a cook when it's just me, and I eat out a lot so the change of pace is nice when I'm home."
He went for a raisin tomato and dipped it in the yogurt before he popped it in his mouth. "It served me well on the island, too. I knew enough not to poison myself."
"Tell me about it?"
"The island?" He glanced at the timer. Still three minutes to go.
The night outside the house was pitch black, not even stars or the moon in sight. The kitchen was like a bubble where remembering was easy. "It was a shock to the system. So hot it felt like breathing fire one minute, and the monsoon the next."
The unescapable chaos of the Island' storms still haunted him when the weather soured. Star City was all right, thunderstorms came and went quickly. The shrieking of the winds in Metropolis gave him nightmares until he got used to it.
Chloe stared at him intently. "The rain was my only source of fresh water for while. But with no changes of clothes, I can't say I liked it."
Chloe swallowed a grin.
"You're picturing me in a grass skirt, aren't you," Oliver teased.
"Is that the moment I remind you that you were naked in my bedroom when I came about?"
"Funny how your mind keeps skipping over the fact that I had underwear on, Sidekick. But I won't mind if you return the favor and model that bikini I know you're hiding in your drawer."
Her cheeks grew redder than the tomatoes he gobbled one after another.
"How do you— I am going to kill Lois."
"Promise promise… You keep saying that but the wench is still alive."
"You're out for blood, Arrow? You dated the wench, remember?"
"Three dates. The first was a disaster, the second almost cost me a billion dollars contract, and the third was just an excuse to confirm we were better off as friends. We never even kissed!"
"And who's fault is that, Robin Hood?"
Oliver grinned. He still remembered the scene clearly. Lois stomping her foot while he lined his shot, Chloe rolling her eyes at her cousin' impatience, then Lois's growl and how fast Chloe had clamped her mouth shut when she had noticed the tab spinning around the arrow on the wall. The calculating look in her bright eyes. It'd been her first clue in piercing his Green Arrow's secret. Looking back, Oliver wondered if he hadn't done it on purpose.
It'd taken Lois two more weeks to break things off, and then another one for her Chlollie campaign to begin, even if Chloe was seeing Jimmy at the time. Oliver glanced at the petite blonde who cradled her bandaged wrist on her stomach. A little over five hours ago, she'd almost died for him.
"Did it ever occur to you that I didn't want to kiss Lois?"
Her good hand stilled in midway to the bread.
Apparently not.
