This is short, but in my defense, I have had the flu...and it is horrible. To anyone out there that loves Jane Austen (like me), I hope you don't mind my comparison and thinking that Chloe would be a closet Austen addict...read on and enjoy! Please review!
"Queen, you look exhausted. Do you need to postpone the meeting?" Bruce eyed Oliver with a worried gaze. The two were in a car on their way to a meeting to discuss their new vaccine.
"I'm fine. We need to get everything finalized. I need a little time off. Gather my thoughts." Oliver rubbed his eyes then fixed a glare at Bruce. He couldn't help it. This man had Chloe in his reach and simply tossed her away. Oliver loved Chloe, but she loved Bruce. She deserved to be happy in love for once. Her love life had been one disaster after another, him included.
"Did Chloe tell you that she and I dated for a while?" Oliver asked abruptly.
"She mentioned it." Bruce narrowed his gaze at Oliver. "Why?"
"She told me that you broke it off." Oliver shook his head. "Don't. Trust me, it's the biggest mistake you'll make. Her love is fierce and binding. It's not something that you should treat so lightly."
"Excuse me?" Bruce was slightly appalled at Oliver's words. He didn't like to think of Chloe loving anyone else.
"If you don't love her, then you should break it off. But, if you do, you should hold on to her tightly."
"You're still in love with her." Bruce said with surprise.
Oliver paused then said simply. "Yes, but she loves you."
"Relationships aren't that simple. There are circumstances that cannot be ignored." Bruce was thinking about the fact that he was Batman.
"Chloe is someone that you can trust with any secret." Oliver looked out the car window, absently observing the rain trickling down. "You should tell her that you're Batman. She'll keep your secret, take it to the grave."
Bruce leaned forward and looked at Oliver menacingly. "What did you say?"
Oliver leaned close too, "You're Batman. I'm the Green Arrow. Trust Chloe."
Bruce's anger was immediately replaced by shock. "You're the Green Arrow. Chloe knows that?"
"She knows." Oliver verified.
"She never told me. I asked her if she knew who the Green Arrow was." Bruce was astonished.
Oliver grinned abruptly thinking about Chloe. "I'm not surprised. I told you that she'll take a secret to the grave."
"You're the one that is blowing up the Luthor properties around the world, aren't you?"
"Me and a few associates. The Luthor's really are a plague on humanity."
"Didn't you worry about Chloe? Keeping her safe?" Bruce jumped back to their original subject.
"Despite her most recent incident, she can take care of herself. You need to remember that she will be doing what she does with or without you. Wouldn't you rather know what she was doing instead of reading about it later?" Oliver reminded Bruce.
"Why are you telling me this? If you're in love with her, shouldn't you be talking me out of trying to make it work with her?" Bruce asked suspiciously.
"I've hurt Chloe enough for a lifetime. I realized that recently. She deserves to be happy and you make her happy." Oliver looked at Bruce square in the eyes. "At least try. Trust her and love her because if you don't someone else will and you'll regret it."
Bruce's brow furrowed as he looked at Oliver as the car pulled up to the curb. To door opened abruptly and Oliver stepped out into the pouring rain to rush into the building, leaving Bruce to follow.
----
Chloe stood in line at the book story looking for a book to read. Her guilty pleasure, was of course, Jane Austen. As if that was really a guilty pleasure; her books were classics, but somehow for Chloe it was. Everyone thought of her as more of a non-fiction type of girl. Intellectual book snobs. She thought to herself. Her copy of Pride and Prejudice was worn and tattered, and she was thinking about buying a new copy. When she found a new pristine copy on the shelf, she couldn't bring herself to buy it. Her copy at home was like an old friend. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy had gotten her through a great many life trials.
She sighed and looked at a copy of Northanger Abbey, she picked it up. She didn't own a copy, but loved the story and wanted to read it again. She identified with the heroine, Catherine Moorlandn, on many levels. The adjectives inquisitive, and imaginative aptly described both of them. Yearning for adventure and intrigue also fit, but lately Chloe found herself needing something a little less dangerous to fill her life.
She wasn't kidding Bruce when she'd told him that she could direct her skills in another direction. She decided right then and there, gazing an artist's rendering of Catherine Moorlandn, that she would write. She'd still write stories that gripped the reader and informed them, but fictional ones. Everyone says that fiction is based on fact somewhere along the line. She certainly had plenty of material to work with; her life was not short of interesting potential plots.
She lightly tapped the book against her thigh as she walked to the counter. As she walked the short distance to her apartment ideas, characters, plotlines and various settings ran through her mind. It was as if once she'd opened herself to the idea, she couldn't stop thinking about it.
She threw the now forgotten book down on the sofa and pulled out her laptop to being telling a story. By the time her mind was done whirling she'd written well into the night. She glanced at the clock and realized she had to be at work in three hours. She knew she would be exhausted at work the next day, but the writing she'd just done fulfilled her more than any of the news stories she'd ever written. Maybe this was what she was always supposed to do, tell fictional stories. Not write news articles about the depressing ravages of everyday life.
After completing her bedtime rituals, she climbed into bed and fell into a deep sleep.