He reached for the alarm clock and shut it off before it sounded out.
"Damn," Oliver sighed as he rolled onto his back, eyes blinking rapidly and brain slowly joining the waking world. He rubbed a hand down his face and winced when stubble grazed his fingers.
Why did everything seem to make his head hurt?
The tiny amount of light that filtered through the curtains hurt his eyes, which made his head ache, which made moving impossible cos it just damn hurt.
He squeezed the bridge of his nose and wondered if enough time had passed before his next dose of pain killers were due. A quick glance at the clock told him there were another two hours before he could get the pounding to stop for a while.
Oliver let out a sigh and knew he should get up, but he couldn't seem to dredge up the energy. It took less than two seconds for him to make the decision to stay right where he was until he couldn't stand it anymore.
God, one damn incident and he turned into a lazy bastard.
Get up, jackass, he thought as he gripped his hair. Get up, get up.
Carefully, he eased his body until he sat on the edge of the bed and tried to inject life into himself. Sadly all his efforts were for nothing and he simply stayed there, head in hands and breathing deeply.
Two warm little hands slid up his back and over his shoulders until two arms were completely wrapped around him with a cheek in the crook of his neck. "Hey," and Oliver turned his face into hers.
"Hey."
"How's your head?" She asked, continuously rubbing his chest.
Which one, Oliver wanted to ask spitefully, but refrained. It wasn't Chloe he was pissed off at.
Hell, he wasn't even sure if he was pissed off.
"Ollie?" Chloe's was soft with tiredness and he really felt like a jackass.
Did he lie and say he was all good, or be honest and say he wanted to spend the rest of his days in a dark hole?
"I don't know, Sidekick," he said eventually. "I wanna say I'm good, but I'm not. I wanna say I'm not good, but I'm not bad, either."
Her sigh tore at him and that did make him pissed.
She'd woken him up every two hours to check on him and his concussion and now she was having to deal with this.
"How's your head?" Pleased when his question got the tiniest hint of a smile.
"Sore," Chloe lightly chuckled. "Be gone once I raid your stash of aspirin."
Oliver couldn't help the responding chuckle. "The petty theft is here to stay, I see."
"I did learn it from the best, so I'm sure it'll be a hard habit to break."
The feel of his lips curling against her jaw did wonders for her worry. "I'm sure we can work through it."
"And you know what else we can work through?"
This time it was his sigh that tore at her. "Not yet, okay, Chloe?" He knew they needed to fully talk about the incident, but just, "Not yet."
He wanted to feel that the world was right before he dealt with the crap it threw, something which made him feel more of an idiot.
She was silent for a moment. "You know," she began. "These shoulders of yours are strong, Oliver. How many people have you carried to safety with them?"
He had no answer.
"And this chest that you take such good care of?" Her hands stroked down over where his heart lay. "Do you know the size of the heart that beats in it? Or these arms that I've seen hold those who are afraid?"
Oliver closed his eyes.
She was doing it again.
Saving him, that was.
How many times was he gonna have to say thank you? When was he gonna be able to return the favour?
Chloe shook her head, an affectionate smile quirked her lips up. "Take me, for instance."
Oliver looked at her then. "You?"
"Yes, me. It's the little things and you don't even realise it half the time, and that makes them a big deal."
"I do those things because I love you."
Her smile got larger and eyebrows arched with meaning. "Glad you understand."
"Ever thought about writing Hallmark cards?" Oliver quipped, feeling lighter than he did a few short minutes ago.
Chloe merely shrugged. "What makes you think I don't?"
Dinah and the incident overshadowed by curiosity, his head tilted to one side as he looked at her. She never seemed to struggle for money and she was pretty good with words... "Do you?"
Another shrug was followed by a warm peck on his cheek. "You hungry? I think we have everything we need for a slap-up breakfast."
Why wasn't she answering him? "Chloe, do you write Hallmark cards?"
Damn woman got out of bed and stretched. "I'm thinking eggs," she stated. "Scrambled and seasoned with paprika for an extra kick. What do you think?"
Oliver scowled. "You're doing this on purpose," he accused. "You're trying to take my mind off things."
Green eyes sparkled. "Is it working?"
Yes. "No."
"Wanna know what happens when you lie, Mr. Queen?" Chloe asked in a way that dared him to find out.
"Go on."
She beamed at him. "You sulk."
Say what?
Horrified, "I do not sulk, Chloe," Oliver told with a finger pointed in her direction.
"Yep and you also pout like this..." and her lower lip pooched out as far as it would go. "So, breakfast? I'll cook."
Oliver tried not to give in, really he did, but it was useless.
He shook his head and treated her to a lopsided grin that came accompanied with two shining brown eyes. "How about you start, I finish?"
"I think that can be arranged."
XOXOXO
There were horrible smells, bad smells, good smells, and heavenly smells.
Then there were smells that were currently floating around their kitchen. Sausages, bacon, scrambled egg, mushrooms, hash browns, and of course coffee. On their own, the smells would be delicious, but when combined on a chilly winter's morning?
Nothing on Earth could compare.
It wasn't just the fact that they smelled good, it was the fact of what it stood for.
Their kitchen didn't just feel warm temperature wise, it felt homely warm.
Homes were made when family did things together, like making breakfast or making the bed or doing chores. The mundane tasks of everyday life seemed to leave imprints on places and turn them into a well loved home.
A home Dinah had tried to destroy and Chloe didn't know why.
Oliver heard the sigh and he looked to see his woman toying with her coffee cup, a content expression on her face that didn't fool him at all. He knew she was going after Dinah and there was a sick part of him that wanted her to, but...
He knew Chloe better than he knew himself and she would do anything to protect them. Had protected them in ways none of them would probably never know about, but this...
This was different somehow.
It wasn't anything to do with the League, it was personal to him and personal to her.
Could he really let her cross a line just for him?
Was he that selfish?
Oliver bit his lip for a moment. "I can't let you do it, Chloe."
She didn't lift her gaze from the ceramic handle. "Do what?"
"Let you go after her. Can't let you do it, Sidekick. Not for me."
She did lift her gaze at that and he wished she hadn't. "Why not, huh?" She demanded, then her jaw rose defiantly. "You would do it for me."
"That's different," and really, really wished he hadn't said that.
Chloe sat back in the tall chair, legs crossed and green eyes narrowed. "How, exactly, is it different? If you so much as think that because I'm a wom..."
Quick to defence, "No, that's not what I'm implying and I'm insulted you'd think like that."
Her jaw snapped shut, but the anger was still in those irises.
He waited patiently and pointedly until she broke. "Okay, fine. I'm sorry for thinking you were a sexist jerk who was about to spout about the fact that you're a man and supposed to be the protector of all things vaginal."
Oliver sighed. "Not all things vaginal, Chloe. Just... When you said earlier about me having a big heart? There's a heart that's much bigger and much fiercer. To go with that heart is a lightening fast superbrain that's capable of putting together something that could hurt that heart."
Seeing her avert her gaze again, he knew she was taking notice and he went on until he drove home his meaning. "Your heart is what I love about you, Sidekick. You're fierce and loyal, two dangerous combinations when it comes to the people you care about. I won't be the reason for another frown on that beautiful face if you regret anything you might do."
"She deserves it," Chloe snapped. "She... She..." God, she couldn't even say what she had done. "She tried to ruin us, Ollie. Tried to ruin our home."
Oliver swallowed and prepared to do what Chloe herself would do in this situation, what Chloe had done. "Say Bart had done it to you and I was gunning for him. The time I should be spending to help you heal is time spent in Watchtower, planning and replanning an act of vengeance. Say that plan works out and Bart's finished, what then? Spend the rest of our lives trying to avoid talking about it or pretending to move on from something we both knew was wrong, but did anyway?"
His head shook. "We're not going to fall into that, Chloe Sullivan. Not us, because this time I won't let us."
Green eyes became hidden by closed lids. "I can't forget seeing, Ollie."
"Neither can I," he admitted. "I keep feeling her there and I don't want to."
Shame raced through her. "Oh God, Ollie. I haven't been thinking of you, have I? Been doing just what you said. Maybe not conciously, but it's been there at the back of my mind and you're the one that needs and deserves my attention."
His lips twitched a bit. "You saying I'm right?"
Chloe didn't miss a beat. "Shame your cooking isn't as good as your mouth."
Brown eyes widened when a light greyish tinted smoke whirled around his face and smelled strangely of... "Sausages... Damn!"
She laughed long and loud while her boyfriend went into action. His arms were moving at a speed Bart could only hope of matching and the slew of curses were incredibly imaginative.
He glared hell at her over his shoulder as he waved the smoke away with a teatowel. "A little help wouldn't go amiss."
She dabbed the tears from her eyes with the bottom of her pyjama top. "I'd have no entertainment if I did that."
Oliver was not impressed whatsoever. "You'll have no boyfriend if you don't," he mock threatened.
Chloe fought to school her features into something as close to heartbreak as possible. "I could never live without my boyfriend..."
A giggle escaped and his glare intensified, his raised the utensil used to pick up the sausages. "Don't tempt me, woman..."
Green eyes rolled and she jumped down off her chair and moved until she knelt beside him, face tilted up and a smile on her face. "Private Sullivan at your service."
It was his turn to roll his eyes. "Just sort the plates and cutlery while I do... Something with these."
"Burnt or no, they're made with love."
Was it him or did that sound a little Hallmarkish?
Chloe touched his knee just the once and went to remove her hand, but he stopped her and kept her hand there. "Olli..."
Oliver swallowed. "Please don't be afraid to touch me."
Once again, her eyes stung with heat and this time she didn't bother to hide them from him. How could he ever think she'd be afraid to touch him? "I'd never be afraid, Ollie, but you need love and care, not..."
"I need you, Chloe. That's all." His eyes lowered as though shamed. "I'd go to bed now if I was sure I don't have... I mean, if I haven't been infected."
Chloe felt her heart stop with that one single word. She hadn't given any thought to STD's at all and it was just another sign of where her true concerns had been laying. "Do you want me to call Emil? You know he won't ask questions."
Oliver wanted to say no, but he knew that in order to ever have sex minus condoms with Chloe ever again, he had to get checked. "After breakfast?"
She nodded. "After breakfast."
XOXOXO
Emil Hamilton was having one hell of day.
Trapped between five furious parents and a Santa Claus currently vomiting severel gallons of cheap vodka on his shoes.
"You see, Harold?" One of the mothers shrieked. "You see how drunk he is? It's a disgrace he's allowed around children."
"It's brats like yours that make me drink, you moron," Santa managed to croak between heaves.
There was a pause.
"Harold! Did you hear what that man said about Polly? Harold, do something!"
"Please," Emil tried to calm the situation.
"Yeah, Harold," Santa mimicked as he tried to stand straight. "Do something."
Harold looked to the doctor for help and got another shriek for his trouble.
"I don't why I married you," she huffed loud enough to be heard around the world.
"Harold's probably asking himself that question. Christ, lady. Do you ever shut up? I've got a banging headache, for crying out loud."
"As well you should," another parent snapped, just as angry.
Emil rubbed his temples when the whole lot of them joined in on a session of whose fault it was they were in the hospital at this time of night and this close to Christmas. The drunk Santa, the screaming kids who drove him to drink, or the parents who told their kids they could ask Santa for anything they wanted.
"Alright," he finally snapped when the voices turned high pitched. "All those injured, go check in at reception and all those not go sit with your family in the reception area. You," he grabbed Santa by the collar. "Come with me."
One stomach pump coming up.
"How dare you treat him first! He's the one at fault! Harold, say something!"
Then came a gift from the very Gods themselves.
Emil grabbed his pager before the vibrating ended and the beeping came. Thank you, Chloe Sullivan, thank you.
His relief faded when he saw the numbers 911 on the screen. "Excuse me. It's an emergency."
"You're just going to leave us? What are we supposed to do?"
Emil grabbed a passing nurse. "These people need medical attention and Santa needs a stomach pump," before he fled for the safety of whatever injury the team had gotten themselves.
XOXOXO
Chloe and Oliver pulled up in front of Emil's private practice and stayed sat in the car for a short while, doing nothing but enjoying the comfortable silence.
"So," she began and offered up her best, most supportive smile.
"Yep," he sighed, trying for a smile of his own, but failed.
He looked out the window at Emil's place and let his head flop against the head rest. "What if she has given me somethin, Sidekick? What do we do then?"
"Then we deal with it," she stated firmly. "We will."
"What if it's something that can't be..."
Chloe took a deep breath. "The chances of that are slim to none, Ollie. Not if she only used her mouth."
She paused. "Did she only use her..."
Oliver looked at her, his expression caught between suspicion and hurt. "I said she did."
Quick to reassure him, "I didn't mean it like that, baby. Honest. I just meant you might be hiding more because you wouldn't want to hurt me."
He shook his head. "Sorry I thought you implied otherwise, Chloe. I know you believe me and you trust me, but... I don't know how to explain. Just my head is all over the place and..."
"No, you don't have to explain to me. If you told me the world was a round floating ball in space, I'd believe you. If you told me you were friends with a guy who could make friends with Jaws, I'd believe you."
Oliver arched a brow. "The world is a floating ball in space and I am friends with a guy who can make friends with Jaws."
"That's why I'd believe you because while you may bend the truth for my benefit now and then, but you don't lie to me."
"You ever go into business of making people feel better? I'm your first investor."
Her soft smile turned into the smile he loved. Ear to ear, tongue trapped between teeth and just so Chloe. "You ever make your own cards? I'm your first rhymer."
"I'll keep it in mind if you will."
Still beaming, "Deal."
Oliver gave his head a damn good shake. "Right. Let's go."
"Right."
They didn't move.
"Is it wrong to not wanna know?"
"If I say yes, will it get us out of the car?"
His lips twitched. "You can try it."
"Okay, then yes. Yes it's wrong to not wanna know."
"Slave driver," he murmured as he reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "The quicker we get this done, the quicker we can go back to normal."
Chloe frowned. "You're normal now."
"Oh, you mean the normal day to day stuff like crazy ass sociopaths trying to use the world for their own amusement?"
"Yep."
Chloe shrugged. "Works for me, now for the last time," she exaggerated. "Can we please get out of the car?"
"If we must."
She watched as he didn't make the slightest effort to move. "Ollie!"
Her whining was stopped by his chuckles and he held up hands. "Sorry, sorry," he said, his shoulders shaking slightly as he unbuckled the seat belt and opened the door.
Satisfied he wasn't toying with her, Chloe copied his movements until they were walking into Emil's office, tensing the closer they got.
The doctor himself greeted them before they got to knock and he gave them a cursory once-over that naturally to him. No broken brones or contusions, but there were two mild ligature marks on Oliver's wrists.
The doctor himself greeted them before they got to knock and he gave them a cursory once-over that came naturally to him.
No broken brones or contusions, but there were two mild ligature marks on Oliver's wrists. Chloe, on the other hand, seemed fine.
Emil sighed. Looked like Green Arrow had gotten himself into a spot of trouble last night.
"Please, come in," he smiled at the woman. "There's coffee ready and waiting."
"You really are a life saver, Hamilton," and squeezed Oliver's hand, ready to give him some privacy.
"Can you stay?" He asked, his voice cracked a little.
"Of course I can stay."
They followed the doctor through to am examination that was strangely like a home away from home.
"Weird," Oliver said and tilted his head to one side.
Chloe heartily agreed. "Tell me about it."
Emil waited patiently for one of them to tell him why he was called in, but when no explanation came, he approached with caution. "What's the problem?"
Oliver flexed his fingers around Chloe's as he tried to find the words he needed for the doctor to do his job. "I, uh, there's some tests you have to do."
Emil didn't bat an eye. "Okay, we'll take some blood first and then..."
"Not those kind of tests, doc," the blonde quietly said. "Other tests. Ones to check for infections."
Infections?
Oh.
Again, Emil didn't bat an eye. "Of course. You'll need to undress and put on a gown."
Oliver briefly nodded and he started to have second thoughts about Chloe staying. It was bad enough she had to see him last night, worse still that she had to wash him last night. He didn't need to put her through it again.
"If you want me to go, I will," Chloe told him. "No offence taken."
The jackass feeling back in spades.
He'd asked her to come with him and here he was changing his mind about wanting her to stay.
"You don't mind?"
Her expression said it all. "Call me when you're done, handsome," and after a quick squeeze of his arm, she was gone and he was alone.
XOXOXO
Damn gowns, Oliver thought with a scowl as he walked towards the small bathroom.
"Ollie?" Emil's voice stopped him in his tracks. "I'll need to take a swab first."
The billionaire faced the doctor, his scowl firmly in place. "I'd rather do the pee one first. It burns after that one."
"If you urinate first, it will wash away the bugs."
Oliver arched a brow. "If I pee and the bugs get washed away, I won't need the swab." It wouldn't, he knew, but it was worth a shot. A swab from there was not pleasent whatsoever.
Emil sighed.
Green Arrow or no, the man could be such a damn patient when he wanted to be.
"Would you rather I call Chloe back here so she can take the swab?"
Chloe could operate on a laptop or computer with the delicacy and precision of a world class brain surgeon, but he'd seen her cut bread and it wasn't pretty.
"No, thank you," Oliver responded dryly as he moved to the bed and tried to ignore how the gown made him itch.
Emil had to hide his grin.
Arrow was such a tough guy out there on the streets, but when it came to his lady? He was just a man.
Terrified.
The doctor quietly chuckled as he thought of poor Harold.
Two totally different men, yet in similar situations.
One was to scared to speak and the other too scared not to.
Emil coughed to hide his smile and found it was easier to do than he thought. There was a reason Oliver needed these tests done and he couldn't help wondering if he'd be doing them for Chloe next.
He knew how they were together.
Openly affectionate, passionate, very much in love.
He had a feeling it was probably a standard case of thrush that Chloe picked up after wearing tight jeans to attract her lover's attention.
Knowing Queen as he did, he could imagine the words your germs are my germs, thus resulting in a visit for a quick round of tests.
It didn't, however, explain the urgency or Oliver's quiet demeanor and tension and Chloe being sent away.
Come to think of it, nothing explained Oliver's quiet demeanor and his asking if Chloe wouldn't mind leaving.
Emil quickly wiped away his frown before he turned back to his patient. "This might sting..."
"Save it," Oliver snapped, scowl more of a glare. "I didn't cheat on her if that's what you're thinking."
"I wasn't thinking that," the doctor said and his frown returned.
When had Oliver Queen ever been paranoid about what someone was thinking where his relationship was concerned?
The billionaire laughed a bitter laugh. "Right. Course not. Just thinking of why I'm in here needing to be tested for STD's and Chloe isn't."
Emil started a mental notepad of the varied emotions his friend was displaying. So far Oliver was uncharacteristically withdrawn, paranoid, angry, and humiliated.
If he didn't know better, he'd swear Oliver had been...
"Ollie?" Emil approached the bed the other man now lay on. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"
Then he watched the muscles in Oliver's jaw work overtime.
"Do you need to know for this?"
"It would help me, yes," Emil honestly said. "It might also help me put your mind at rest if you're worrying about things you shouldn't."
Oliver blew out a deep breath and confided in his friend.
XOXOXO
No sooner had Chloe stepped back outside when a myriad of emotions began to tip her over the edge. Guilt, anger, confusion, despair...
All of them warred for dominance and she had to force herself to stay calm long enough to get in the car before she broke down.
Door opened and she got in, her hands wrapped tight around the steering wheel and harsh breathing started to hurt her lungs. She deeply inhaled, only stopping when her head spun from it and it was just too much.
While Ollie had been going through hell, she'd been out drinking and not giving a crap.
She was Watchtower.
Watchtower meant she was supposed to look out for her team, not be out drinking and partying while leaving one of them to get assaulted.
Chloe took a hold of her hair and pulled hard as her eyes filled up to spilling point and God, God, God. She was hurt, she was so damn hurt, it was unreal.
She thought back to the very first time something hurt and remembered being left at the dance while Clark left to go save Lana. At the time, it'd felt like her heart had been ripped out and following that, both Clark and Lana had blatantly lied to her face about their relationship. Jimmy had pretty much ditched her for Kara and that had hurt, but not half as much as when he'd said she was his biggest mistake.
Now, she knew, she'd trade any one of those for what she felt today. She'd trade a damn heartbeat.
This was the kind of hurt that went soul deep and no amount of hugs, kisses or whatever could fix it. Hell, time couldn't fix this because it would always be there, deep inside and she knew she'd remember this for the rest of her life.
She'd remember how Oliver was last night, having to wake him every two hours, soothing, holding, swearing she'd never leave. She'd remember his shame, his humiliation, as he'd averted his gaze when she'd cleaned him up.
Steering wheels were surprisingly hard against fists she realised, the ache spreading through her hands more than welcome. She hit again and again and again, not stopping until redness appeared and palms had a tingling numbness that probably meant swelling was on the way.
God, if Oliver saw her hands, he would know she got upset and withdraw into himself. He'd feel like total crap if he knew how she felt.
She had to be strong for him and not acting like she was.
Chloe tried to wipe her tears away, but they just kept falling as the anger kept rising and she just could not stop.
Oliver had been beaten, stabbed, poisoned, publically humiliated as both a Queen and a hero. How dare that... that woman go into their home and do something so horrible?
How dare she make such a man feel like nothing?
What gave her the damn right to try and take what she wanted when it already belonged to someone else?
No, that was wrong.
Oliver Queen belonged to Oliver Queen, not Chloe Sullivan or anyone else.
He was not a piece of meat or a toy to be fought over. He was a man of his own and deserved to be respected as that man. He deserved to respect himself for being that man and what she did took that away.
"I hate you for this," Chloe managed between gasps.
Hated her for putting Oliver in the position of needing his pieces picked up yet again, hated her for being put in the position of picking up the pieces yet again. No doubt Oliver would be thinking the same thing.
Chloe let the tears fall, but swallowed back the hurt and focused on Emil's office. Oliver didn't want her to do anything she might regret, but how could she do nothing?
How could she?
Simple fact was she couldn't.
She needed to do something without doing anything.
To think, she needed to think like the team, take a step back and look at things from the League's perspective and to do that, she needed a Watchtower.
Chloe closed her eyes and tried to find her place, the place Oliver told her to find when she felt frustrated that things weren't going the way she planned and it was right there.
The Watchtower.
Surrounded by nothing that could hurt or control, something that answered her every command, something that personified who she was and what she had become. She could watch them all silently, be there, keep them safe, made her feel good.
She heard the low noise of the powerful computer, heard the drip drip drip of her coffee machine, saw how small the people and traffic looked from out the window, felt the heat of the recognition in the elevator.
More than that.
It was the base, the head quarters for them all, the meeting place for congratulations on a job well done.
Watchtower wasn't just her, it was all of them together, where they could be who they were with no judgement or recrimination.
Her place was with the team and it was the team she needed to be her Watchtower this time.
Chloe wiped the last of her tears away as she opened her eyes, her right hand slipped slowly and calmly got her cellphone out of her purse, her thumb pressed 7 on speed dial and waited for an answer. "Tower to Cyborg, do you copy?"
"Copy that, Watchtower."
"Dig anything and everything you can on Black Canary. I repeat, everything. ETA one hour. Watchtower out."
"Cyborg out."
Chloe smiled as she hung up.
All she needed now was a time and a place.
Again, she thought like the team and knew it had to be somewhere neutral for it to be done. A place where Canary couldn't use her power, a place where she'd be afraid of being discovered for not only her power, but also for what she'd done to Oliver.
That's if she cared about what she'd done to Oliver, something which Chloe highly doubted.
Fingernails sounded as they tap tap tapped against the steering wheel, a physical sign of her brain working overtime. She needed something, somewhere that Lance couldn't quickly escape from and in order to create an inescapable place, she needed the team.
Chloe hated herself for not having Zatanna on speed dial and vowed to wipe Clark from number 5 and the take out places from numbers 2 and 3.
"Watchtower to Copperfield, do you copy?"
"Must you?"
"ETA Watchtower in one hour. Do you copy?"
"Copy, me out."
Any other time and she would have laughed at Zatanna's refusal to use her nickname, but right now she just couldn't find humour in anything. Well, except for her nice and neat plan to show Miss. Lance just what the Justice League did when one of their own turned into the bad guy.
Chloe wiped her eyes before she searched for a tissue as she wondered why crying left runny noses in its wake.
Her cellphone ringing sharply put a stop to her search and damn it all to hell. The ID was Ollie and he was probably calling to tell her he was ready to be picked up. No way could she get away with hiding her hissy fit, not with how she sounded.
She swallowed as she answered. "Hey, honey. You done?" God, he was gonna know she'd had a breakdown.
There was no immediate answer and Chloe just knew Oliver was worrying. "I'm ready, Tower."
She wanted to tell him not to call her Tower, because she'd shamed that name. "I'm right outside, Ollie. Just come out."
His answer was to hang up and were there anymore Gods for her to ask for help? She didn't think so and used her sleeves to finish drying her eyes. Any second now, Oliver was going to come out of Emil's and find her looking a total mess.
Chloe grabbed her purse and rooted through it in the hope she had some form of make-up that would hide her face. "Let there be something," and kept rummaging, but found nothing but mascara and lipgloss, which wouldn't do anything to hide the red blotches on her cheeks.
It was too late, she knew, as Oliver pretty much jogged out of the building and God, she saw him pause and his eyes widen right before he sprinted to the car. The door was open and she was pulled out and pulled close to his chest.
He rocked her then.
Arms tight around her, no word said when her hands beat his back, didn't argue when she threatened death.
He did nothing except hold her until she stood there, enveloped by him and hiccups muffled by his chest.
"ETA Watchtower in an hour, Arrow," Chloe mumbled as she pushed away from him.
"Something up?" Oliver asked, not once letting go of her.
"Yes and it's not something I'll regret."
Okay, so maybe he was that selfish. "What's your plan?"
Chloe sniffed four or five times before she spoke. "You and me? Public. Living together, marriage, kids... The works. We're gonna make a success of us, Ollie. We're gonna throw ourselves to the wolves."
Oliver choked on a laugh. "So much for my New Year's proposal plan. And Dinah?"
"Dinah Lance will get her own proposal, Arrow. That I promise."