Pregnant.
Oliver blinked. Once. Twice. Then he punched the accelerator because the crossing was coming way too fast to stop at the red light.
Pregnant?
The car swerved. He slammed on the breaks. Stupid move on the wet asphalt. The rear slid sideways, in the wrong direction. He worked the wheel back and forth to get some traction. Good God, Chloe was pregnant. Oliver resisted the urge to close his eyes. The car kept swerving in the empty street. He held his breath as it skidded then stopped against the concrete sidewalk.
"You're…"
"Pregnant. Yes."
Oliver freed his right hand from its death grip on the steering wheel to stretch his arm over the seatbelt and pulled her against him. When she shuddered against him, fear gripped and twisted something inside him. It was going too fast. Three months ago they didn't even know each other. In less than ninety days, he'd forced her to resuscitate, to become his eyes in the sky while he patrolled the city dressed in green leather, he'd taken her virginity, announced to the world that he was very much taken…
"Chloe… I'm…"
Sorry didn't start to cover it. Pregnant. With his child. His chance to have a family once again, through her. With her. His heart soared in joy. It plummeted in terror.
Oliver lifted her chin with one finger slowly, suddenly very scared of what he might see on Chloe's face. Her bright green eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Hey, hey, no tears. It's… good. Wonderful. It's wonderful. I've never thought… God Chloe… A baby?"
Her shy smile had him cup her face to peer intently at her. He knew where he stood. He knew he wanted her, them but… It killed him to ask. "Are you happy? Do you— do you want it?"
With me? Those words went unsaid.
Chloe unclipped her seatbelt to burrow into his chest the best she could with the shift stick between them. "Yes, I do."
Panic rose up. He'd grown up without parents, whore his way through adulthood thanks to his charm and trust fund, he had no idea how to be a father. What if he screwed up? What if Chloe and his child ended hating him? Oliver swallowed the clogging lump in his throat. A baby. His baby. His head was spinning. "I… I promise you, I'll keep you safe. I'll do everything to make you happy. Both of you. I promise. I will…"
"I know, Ollie." She nuzzled his shoulder like a cat, then her nails dug into the back of his hand. "Did Emil say… Did he mention…"
She trembled like a leaf in his arms. Oliver slipped both hands under her coat to rub her sides gently through her dress. "What is it?"
"We… When we… It's normal isn't it? No traces of anything?"
"Anything?" Oliver parroted. It seemed his brain refused to engage further than the word 'baby'. "Why— Oh."
There was only one time that matched. When he'd been under the influence of the drug and all but ravaged her at the manor. Well done, Queen. Deflower the girl and engross her when you're stoned to your eyeballs. Really well done. He swallowed thickly.
"Emil didn't mention anything."
Chloe took a jittery breath. "Okay."
"Okay. Let's… Let's just go home. We'll just reach Emil by videochat."
"All right."
She made no move to regain her position on the passenger seat, her breath too harried against his neck. He didn't want to let go either. When he felt confident his heart wasn't going to explode, Oliver eased his embrace.
"Sidekick? Seatbelt?"
Her shoulders shook. Oliver frowned, until he realized she was laughing. "It's just going to get worse, isn't it?"
"What is going to get worse?"
"Your overprotective streak."
"I'm not overprotective." Oliver reached sideways for her belt and snapped it into place, stealing a kiss in passing. "Seatbelts are basic car safety requirements."
"Say the man who zoomed through the city on a bike."
Her luscious lips twitched in amusement. She was so incredibly beautiful. His thumb lingered on her cheek, caressing her gently. So soft. Brilliant. Stubborn. And strong. His perfect match…
"Oliver?"
He dropped his hand, startled. "Hum?"
"Are we going home?"
"Huh? Oh yeah. Yeah. Sorry. Sure. We're going."
Chloe shifted as close as her seat allowed her and rested her head on his biceps. The weight on his arm soothed him. It grounded him in the here and now, rather than a vision of the future cast in shadow and light, just within reach and so far away all at once. Oliver put the car in gear, entwining his fingers with hers over his knee.
"Did you tell Lois?"
"No. I wanted to be sure and tell you first. I think Clark founded out, though. He heard something."
Clark. Of course. The boy wonder with his super speed, super hearing, super vision, super strength, who broke her heart a billion times over. The boy scout could go to Hell. She was his now. Oliver stifled a growl. "You're about four weeks. Isn't it too early for a heartbeat?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
She sighed against him and he felt that protective thing she'd complained about swelled in his chest.
"I suspected only last week. My periods have not been exactly regular in the past years, but I was nauseous all the time… It freaked me out. Everything tastes so weird…"
"No coffee for the next nine months."
"Emil said I could have one cup of decaf per day."
"Tea."
"You're mean."
"I'm a bit freak out too."
The admission slipped out of his mouth before he realized it. As soon as it did, the tension coiled in his stomach unfurled fully. Talking about it was a good thing, Oliver thought. Bottling up his feelings had nearly broken them apart. Chloe squeezed his hand but said nothing back.
He signaled to turn into the Queen Towers interior parking. Two minutes later, he parked the SUV in its usual spot. "We're here, sleeping beauty."
"Not sleeping…"
"Sure you're not."
Chloe rolled her eyes and opened her door but he made it around the car in record time to help her out. Images flashed through his mind now, of her struggling to stand because her round belly, of childish squeals in his earpiece while he patrolled, of picking up a sleeping child from its seat, of coming home to his family after a day at the office. He could picture his future past endless meetings and dying in a dark alley after a patrol gone wrong. The possibilities, the rightness of it bowled him over.
Oliver wrapped her in his arms before she could say a word. Her lips parted beneath his, smooth and welcoming. He deepened the kiss. She tasted like the chocolate cake she'd eaten and the lemon water she drank at the party. Fresh, sweet, hot. Chloe moaned into his mouth and he angled her head to have more, buried his hands in her hair so she couldn't escape the invasion. He walked her backward against the car so he could feel her petite form curve into his body. Her skin felt like silk under his hands, delicate and warm. Her hands gripped his hips and in the back of his mind, he realized he should take her upstairs, but the elevator was too far away when she was just here, hot and perfect against him.
"We should…"
He pressed her further into the car, all but snarled when her knee brushed against his thigh when she tried to adjust their position, when she invited him closer, begged him with her body when her mouth was otherwise occupied with the pulse in his neck. He grounded harder against her each time the tip of her tongue teased that exact spot, and the friction bordered painful. She was the one pressing back now, tiny helpless gasps filtering through that delicious mouth when he forced her head back to look deep into her eyes. Her chest pushed against his and her lips opened in a whimper. He grasped at his sanity with both hands.
"Upstairs."
"Please… Oliver…"
"Upstairs."
The elevator ride was hell. He kept his stance, one arm around her while she burrowed against him. The feel of her threatened to break him in two. But he refused to take her when there were cameras around. The next time he'd kiss her, he would be unable to stop and he refused to risk her this way even though he knew she could erase their indiscretion with a few clicks.
When they stepped out of the elevator, Oliver spun her in her arms. Her back hit the wall by the door and he yanked the straps of her dress down to bare her chest. His other hand bunched her skirt up, and he wasn't too sure how he managed to multitask when she seemed so determine to drive him crazy with need, her mouth crashing against his, her hands everywhere she could reach. He was certain he'd never lacked finesse like this before, even half-drunk he'd always held onto his patience, foreplay an important part of the game. He vaguely remembered how he wanted to dance with her earlier, to seduce her slowly. It was impossible now. He needed her now, the moment imperfect and harried and right. It wasn't just sex, a mad rush toward completion. It was more. It was everything.
Oliver sank into her as gently as he could, but she was so exquisite around him he surrendered to the heat and Chloe's shocked cries of pleasure. Her hands grasped his shoulders, pulled at his jacket, at his shirt, as if she was as crazed as he was. He was too far gone to slow down. Oliver nipped at her neck, smoothed the sting with his tongue and she clutched to him, boneless. Her pants filled his ears through the rush of blood. She somehow managed to grab the hand he'd braced against the wall and pressed it against her face to muffle a scream.
The storm raged on, the need to take, the need to devour, to feel more, to feel complete, urgent, insatiable, infinite. Then pleasure keened and shattered, from her body to his. Chloe buried her face in his shoulder as Oliver tightened his hold on her, trembling from head to toe. In a minute he would be able to walk and take her to their bedroom, or at least the couch. Right now he wasn't sure where he started and where she ended. His legs gave out and he barely managed to sink on the floor with her on his lap, cradling her head so she didn't bang it against the wall when he fell. "You're okay?"
"Hmmmm…"
"I'll take that as a yes."
He kissed her shoulder while she burrowed in his embrace, her lips pressed to his neck. His heart sped up again. "That was…"
"Us. This is us."
