--2--
"Where do you live?"
"Fifteen minutes from here."
"What kind of place?"
"A penthouse."
"How can you afford that?"
"I'm really well off."
"And I'm your personal assistant?"
"Yes."
"Aren't I a bit unqualified for that?"
"Hardly."
"What exactly do I do?"
"A lot. Do you have to keep interrogating me like this?" Oliver asked her finally, tearing his eyes from the road. After keeping her over night, the doctors had finally given Chloe the okay to go home with him, but he was adamant on the fact that she needed rest and no sudden shocks. Oliver had looked at the doctor dubiously when he gave him the instructions. The man clearly had no idea who he was talking about. Chloe hated being idle, and there was no possible way she could regain her memory and not have it be a sudden shock. Her life was a sudden shock.
Chloe blushed. "Sorry. I just...well..."
"You don't like not knowing what's going on. Trust me; I know." He smirked to himself, eyes returning to the road.
She gave him a funny look.
"Sorry, I just know you really well, and if there's one thing I've learned about you, it's that you have to know everything about everything. You google everyone you meet."
Chloe blushed, but trudged ahead. "What would I find if I googled you?"
He grimaced. "Very little that's flattering."
"Oh?"
"I have a bad reputation with the press most of the time...although you've decreased that problem dramatically since we started working together."
"Together? I thought you were my boss."
He glanced at her again, considering her. "It's a very insufficient way of phrasing it, but also the closest to being accurate. I sign your paychecks, but half the time you tell me what to do, and the rest of the time we're closer to being partners."
Chloe frowned, trying to register what he'd said.
After five minutes Oliver got almost nervous from the silence. "That is the quietest you've been since you woke up in the hospital yesterday. What on earth are you thinking about?"
"That my life is very different from what I expected it to be when I was fifteen."
Oliver felt a surge of guilt. It was absolutely true, and a lot of the time he felt responsible for it. She was put into danger almost daily because of him, and her friends were far from the norm. He wondered how she'd react when she regained her memory...if she regained her memory.
But he couldn't think like that. She had to get it back. She had to because the JL needed her. I need her, he thought with a pang. He had never admitted it to Chloe but...well...there were just certain things they didn't talk about. Like the fact that my entire life falls apart if she decides to leave, he thought ruefully, or that it's practically fallen apart now purely because she doesn't remember me.
"I'm sorry," Chloe said suddenly.
"What?" Oliver snapped out of his reverie, pulling his car up to the clock tower where a valet took the keys from him. He walked around to help her out and she looked upset.
"I just...I can tell it's really hard on you that I don't know who you are." She refused to make eye contact.
He felt another pang, this one of guilt. "Hey! Don't you dare apologize! This is hardly your fault. I mean, come on! Besides," he said, trying to cheer you up, "this is going to be really fun for me. I get to fill your head with all kinds of made up stories about us."
She gave him a surprised look but then seemed to realize he was kidding and she laughed. Then she looked at the building they'd arrived at. "You live here?"
He grinned, pleased that she was impressed. "Yep. Top floor."
"Th-the top?" she stammered as he dragged her along, her head tilting back to see the top of the building where there was a giant clock.
"Uh huh. Clark should have brought all your luggage over by now," he added, "so everything will be all set up for you."
"Did he bring any photographs?" she asked in the elevator.
"I...I don't know. Maybe?"
"I hope so," she said thoughtfully before growing quiet again.
When they reached the top and the lift opened, Chloe stopped dead still, staring, but Oliver didn't notice.
"Guest room's back here," he said to her, showing her the way before realizing that she wasn't following. He turned back for her. "Chloe?"
She'd taken only one step off the lift and was looking around her, wheels turning in her brain about ninety miles an hour as she absorbed the room. Oliver was about to ask what she was doing but stopped, realizing that maybe she was remembering something.
After a moment, the spell seemed to break and Oliver asked whether she were all right.
"I...I don't know," she said, staring at the wall that hid the Green Arrow's equipment. "I thought something seemed familiar for a minute. But," she turned back to him. "I guess I'll be getting a lot of that for a while." She grinned weakly at him, and Oliver tried to hide his disappointment. "Anyway," she said, "where was this room?"
Chloe didn't miss that hopeful look that had swiftly vanished from Oliver's face. She felt bad. She knew, just as he'd told her downstairs, that it wasn't her fault, but it just didn't stop her from feeling bad. She knew it would upset her terribly if someone she were close to didn't remember her.
"Clark had amnesia," she said suddenly. "Clark had amnesia for a day in high school and I had to take care of him!"
Oliver turned to look at her, relieved. "I think one of you told me about that." Then suddenly he raised an eyebrow. "What else do you remember about Clark from that day?"
Chloe gave him a confused look. "Ummm..."
"Never mind," he said quickly, opening the door to her room where it was revealed that Clark had not only brought over all of her things but gone to the trouble of unpacking them for her, too.
"He must have been here for an hour at least," Chloe thought, pulling the drawers open to find neatly folded and organized clothes.
Oliver snorted before he could stop himself. An hour, Chloe? Try three seconds. He thought it, but said instead, "Yeah, real nice of him."
Chloe glanced at him, disliking the strangely dismissive tone of his voice. Then she noticed there was a bouquet of tulips on the dresser. She walked over to them, smiling and found a card.
Chloelicious--
Glad you're out of the hospital. Hope your memory comes back soon!
Love, Bart
Chloe looked dubiously at the card. "Is Bart my boyfriend? And do I really let him get away with calling me Chloelicious?"
Oliver snorted, walking over to read the card. "He's not your boyfriend, although I imagine that's what he'd like you to think." He chuckled.
Chloe looked at Oliver. "So, how do I know him?"
"He works with us, too."
"And this is normal for him?" she gestured the flowers, unable to suppress a smile at them.
Oliver raised an eyebrow, not liking the sappy look on her face. "Very."
Chloe shook her head, amused. "When did I meet him?"
"Years ago in Smallville. Are you hungry? We can go get some dinner," he changed the subject.
She nodded. "Starved. That hospital food was awful," she complained.
Oliver laughed, heading out of the room. "You should have let me know. I would have snuck you in something better."
Chloe looked after him in surprise, then, catching herself, she started to follow after him but stopped when she heard another voice.
"Hey, Bossman. How's 'licious?"
Chloe suddenly recalled a young man at a coffee shop handing her a flower and calling her 'Chloelicious.' She grinned, remembering that he had been flirting with her heavily and was apparently Clark's friend. Where had they been? She closed her eyes, forcing herself to remember. She saw Lana behind the counter and bright decorations...the Talon! Of course. She felt a small weight lift as an important chunk of high school returned to her. Lana had had the old theater where her parents met renovated into a coffee shop.
She was about to go see Bart, eager to see someone else she apparently remembered, but she realized suddenly that they were talking about her.
"Bart, I'm telling you, don't do anything weird around Chloe. She doesn't remember any of us. It could send her into shock, okay?"
"Aw, c'mon! Where is she? I bet she'll remember me!"
"She barely remembers high school, Bart. She's not going to remember you. So tone it down, okay? I don't want her panicking, at least not without Clark or Lois around to convince her we're not all freaks."
Freaks? Chloe thought. What are they talking about? The word seemed to carry a lot of weight with her, but she couldn't think why. Fed up with being talked about when she wasn't in the room and with their cryptic statements, Chloe went to join them.
"Hi, Bart," she grinned, pleased that he was the boy she'd pictured--slightly older of course, but still the correct person. "Thanks for the flowers."
He beamed at her.
"You remember me?" he asked excitedly.
"You remember him?" Oliver said at the same time, with less enthusiasm.
Chloe nodded happily. "It just came back to me. I met you in the Talon, right?" she looked at him hopefully.
"Yeah!" Bart rushed over to him--without his super-speed, Oliver observed thankfully--and kissed her on the cheek, giving her a happy hug. "I knew you'd remember me. Kinda funny, though, cuz you didn't remember me before," he added.
Chloe looked confused. "Huh?"
"That time in the Talon was ages ago. When I found you again a couple of years ago you didn't recognize me right away."
Chloe raised an eyebrow, but watched silently as he cheerfully raided Oliver's fridge.
"So you remember him, then?" Oliver asked warily. "Do you remember anything other than that first time you met?"
Chloe shook her head. "Unfortunately not. But he brought back the memory of the Talon. I'd forgotten all about that."
He nodded, apparently thinking very deeply about something. "Huh." She glanced at Bart again and was surprised to see that for someone of his size, he was really going at Oliver's food.
"Wow," she said. "You eat a lot."
Bart looked up at her and grinned. "I burn a lot of calories. Besides," he added suddenly, "you never know when I might need to spring into action." He wiggled his eyebrows for her.
The sentence clicked something in her mind. "You've said that before."
Bart's grin grew and he nodded.
"Are you through eating me out of house and home, Bart? I was going to take Chloe to dinner."
Bart looked at Oliver sheepishly. "Yeah, sure, no problem, Ollie. I'll clean up later." He shot Oliver a significant look and Oliver nodded.
"Thanks."
"Anyway," Bart said, "I just wanted to check up on you, 'licious." He came over to plant another kiss on Chloe's face and Oliver rolled his eyes. "You scared us all to death."
"Us?" Chloe asked.
"Yeah," he responded absently, "me and the JL--Oops," Bart said and Oliver shook his head in dismay.
"The other people we work with," Oliver explained.
"Oh."
"Yeah," Oliver glared at Bart. "Come on, I've got your coat," he told her, clearly exasperated.
Chloe started to go with him but paused to kiss Bart on the cheek. "Thank you, Bart. Goodnight," she told him, laughing slightly when his face turned bright red with delight.
"Don't forget to clean up, Bart," Oliver told him as Chloe stepped past him onto the elevator. When the doors closed he looked at her wryly.
"I like Bart," Chloe grinned. "He's sweet."
"Yeah," Oliver said sarcastically, "he's a regular Prince Charming. Just...do yourself a favor and don't encourage him so much."
Chloe laughed. "Why not? He seems harmless," she joked.
Oliver rolled his eyes.
"You don't like him?" Chloe questioned.
Oliver looked surprised. "What? No, I like Bart just fine."
"You were grimacing the entire time he was there."
Oliver shifted, glancing away. "I just think his flirting with you gets old really fast. The kid has no focus."
The word 'kid' struck a note with her. She frowned. "He's awfully young to be working for a...wait, what do you do, again?"
Good question. "I'm a CEO."
She looked startled. "A CEO? Okay, yeah, he's extremely young to work for you."
"He's a messenger."
"And he's on first name terms with you?"
"Jeez you really don't miss a beat, do you?" he laughed. Chloe didn't respond, just looked at him expectantly. "He's also a really good friend. He's very talented," he said, attempting to explain Bart away.
Chloe didn't looked remotely satisfied, but she let it drop.
So not cool, Oliver thought sulkily. She remembers the kid and not me? Then he reminded himself that she didn't remember everything about Bart, and she had met him long before she'd met Oliver. Besides, he ought to be glad that bits of her memory were clearly coming back to her.