Everybody's looking for love – oh

Ain't that the reason you're at this club – oh

You ain't gonna find it dancing with him – no

I got a better solution for you girl – oh

Just leave with me now, say the word and we'll go

I'll be your teacher, I'll show you the ropes

You'll see a side of love you've never known

I can see it going down, going down

In my head – I see you all over me

In my head – you fulfill my fantasy

In my head – you'll be screaming ohhh

In my head, it's going down

Jason Derulo – 'In My Head'

Part IV

Chloe wiped her hands on her napkin as the waiter took their plates away. "That was probably the best meal I've had all month," she joked. "I usually live on coffee, muffins, and whatever takeout I can scrounge up on late nights at the Planet."

George smiled at her. "And I thought cops had the worst diet. I consider myself a foodie of sorts, though. Maybe I can introduce you to a few more of my favorite restaurants around the city."

Chloe waited for a feeling of anticipation or excitement at what was obviously a broad hint that he wanted to see her again. She'd been waiting for those feelings all night, and while she was having a good time with him, she didn't feel what she knew she should be feeling. Seriously, what was wrong with her?

George Dean was smart, ambitious, and in Lois' words, a total hottie. He'd been a perfect gentleman all night, but it was clear by the way he was looking at her that he was attracted to her. Finally, here was a man who looked at her like she was a flesh and blood woman rather than a computer guru. He didn't want to be her best friend, and he wasn't looking for a sidekick to fight crime with. He just wanted her.

And yet, she couldn't stop her mind from recycling her argument with Oliver. It had been on a loop in her head for the last week, and she knew she couldn't avoid him forever. She was lucky to have escaped the meeting last night without having to talk to him. He'd clearly been agitated, so she knew he was probably worried about her radio silence during the previous week. The longer she avoided him the harder it would be, but it had been a blow to her pride when he looked so amused by the idea of her getting her kink on.

"Chloe, you okay?"

Chloe looked up to see George gazing at her with an expression of concern. "Sorry – I drifted for a minute. One of the hazards of being a writer," she continued with a smile.

"Well, we can't have you being bored. Ready to hit the dance floor?"

"Sure, but I'm going to visit the ladies' room first," she answered, pushing her chair back.

George stood immediately and took her hand as she stood, smiling down at her. He squeezed her hand. "Hurry back."

Chloe made her way through the club, admiring the colorful décor as she walked. Warm shades of red, orange, cream and brown coordinated well with the Cuban themed artwork on the walls, and while the furniture was in the chic, modern style one would expect of a top Metropolis club, it all managed to blend effortlessly. The beat of the music was also enticing, and she was looking forward to salsa dancing for the first time.

Several minutes later Chloe stood in front of the large mirror and reapplied her lip gloss, a berry shade that complemented her skin tone. She stepped back and smoothed her dress. Lois had been absolutely right about the purple dress she was wearing. Her loose, blonde curls barely touched the tops of her shoulders, and she had allowed Lois to help with her makeup. Her cousin had created a smoky eye effect with a mix of plum and pale grey shadows that really made her eyes pop. The silver hoops and bracelet she was wearing had the right touch of sophistication, and the high, silver heels made her legs look a mile long.

Without a doubt this was the hottest she'd looked since… well, in recent memory, anyway. She'd gone all out for this date, and George had definitely taken notice which was exactly what she wanted. So why wasn't she happier to have his undivided attention? Her thoughts were interrupted when two women walked into the lounge, giggling. A tall, sleek redhead stepped up to the mirror and was immediately joined by her friend. Metropolis socialites, Chloe thought. The top designer dresses, shoes and bags were a dead giveaway.

"He is so mine," the redhead was saying as she admired herself in the mirror.

"Why do you get him? Besides, I think he prefers brunettes," her raven haired companion retorted.

The redhead smirked. "We could probably both have him if we were into threesomes."

"I have no doubt he'd be into that based on his rep," the darker haired girl laughed. "But I'd prefer to have all of his considerable skills focused on me."

"A competition it is, then."

Chloe rolled her eyes as she left the restroom, wondering if all socialites were that silly. George was waiting for her in the hallway.

"What's so funny?" He asked as he slid his arm around her.

"One of Metropolis' most eligible bachelors must have made an appearance," Chloe replied as they walked to the large bar that separated the restaurant from the dance club. "A couple of women were arguing over who gets dibs."

George laughed, squeezing her hip. "Well, just as long as he doesn't want you."

"I don't see that being a problem," she said, smiling back at him a little ruefully.

"Yeah, well, I'm going to err on the safe side and remain vigilant," George murmured, leaning close to her when they stopped at the bar. "You look far too tempting, and I've noticed the way every guy here has been looking at you."

Chloe doubted that, but it was sweet of him to say it, so she didn't argue with him. "So what do you recommend?"

"Cuba is famous for its white rum, so you could try one of the rum cocktails. My sister loves the Cuban Rose, but she has them make it with pineapple-orange juice rather than just orange juice." At Chloe's nod, George placed their drink orders.

When their drinks arrived, Chloe sipped hers carefully. "Wow, it's good and not as strong as I was expecting."

"I've heard the bartending staff is excellent here," George commented. "They seem to mix the drinks well."

"So, how is it that you know so much about Cuban food and drinks?" Chloe asked.

"My mother's family came from Cuba, actually."

"Well, that explains it. You probably actually know how to salsa dance, don't you?"

He shrugged modestly and grinned at her. "I might have done it a few times at weddings."

Chloe groaned. "I have this terrible feeling I'm going to embarrass myself out there."

"No way – I'll teach you," he promised, his eyes warm as he met hers.

Chloe blushed and took a sip of her drink as she glanced around the club. There was a low table and a couple of couches in the lounge area located to her left. Because of the number of people milling about, she couldn't see who was sitting there, but she could see the two women from the restroom standing off to the side looking for an in. Suddenly, a few of the people moved and redhead was off much to Chloe's amusement. She took another sip of her cocktail and nearly choked on it when she saw Oliver sitting on one of the couches.

She coughed a little, and George leaned in, resting his hand on her back. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she assured him, moving a little so that George was blocking her.

Chloe preferred that Oliver not see her, though she doubted he would approach her while he was busy reinforcing his playboy image. She knew that he made himself very visible to the paparazzi at least once or twice a month. It was a smart move since he didn't want the media speculating too much on his private life. He gave them what they wanted, and they pretty much left him alone the rest of the time. It worked out well for everyone.

She peeked around George and was startled to see Oliver looking right at them. She scooted back a little even though she knew he'd definitely seen her. So much for escaping his notice.

"Is something wrong? You seem nervous all of a sudden," George commented, looking confused.

"Sorry, I just thought I saw someone I know," she answered. "I think I'm ready for those salsa lessons."

George didn't look convinced, but before he could reply, they were interrupted.

"Chloe."

George turned, his surprise evident at seeing Oliver Queen standing behind him. Brows raised slightly, he looked back at Chloe.

Chloe bit her lip and forced a smile, wondering what Oliver was doing. "Oliver, it's nice to see you again."

"Really? I'd believe that except for the fact that you haven't returned any of my calls this week." His gaze was challenging.

What the hell? Chloe's mouth fell open, and she looked over at George. "Uhm…"

George looked between them. "I take it you know each other?"

Before Chloe could say anything, Oliver spoke. "As it happens, we know each other very well."

Chloe's eyes widened at that. Didn't Oliver realize how that sounded? And she could see that George was drawing the wrong conclusions. "I've done some consulting work for Oliver before – kind of a side gig since I'm good with computers. Oliver, this is my date, George Dean." She stressed the word date as she gave him a pointed look. "George, Oliver Queen."

George didn't look convinced, but he held a hand out to Oliver. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Mr. Queen."

Oliver shook his hand briefly before turning his attention back to Chloe. "I need to talk to you."

"Oliver, it's Friday night and we're both otherwise occupied." She nodded toward his table. "I'm sure it can wait until Monday." She tried to walk around Oliver, but he blocked her.

"I think we both know this isn't about business, Chloe," Oliver said, looking determined.

Chloe was going to kill him. She took a deep breath and looked at George. "I am so sorry. Would you give us just a minute?"

George looked between them for a moment but then nodded. "I'll be right over here." He gestured toward the doorway that led to the salsa club.

Chloe waited until George left and glared at Oliver. "What the hell is wrong with you, Oliver? Don't you realize what he's thinking?"

Oliver shrugged. "Not my problem. Right now, my problem is that you're avoiding me."

She struggled to hold onto her temper. "Not your problem? You know what will be your problem? When you go to work on Monday to find all your servers shut down. And don't think I can't do it."

"Oh, I know you can, but you won't. Look, Chloe, all I'm asking for is five minutes." Oliver reached out and cupped her shoulder.

Chloe jumped at the warmth of his hand against her bare skin. She ignored the burst of electricity that seemed to be lighting up her entire central nervous system. "Oliver, I'm not mad – at least, not about last weekend. I am upset that you're crashing my date so rudely. I can't even imagine what George must be thinking. I swear that I will call you tomorrow, but right now I'm busy."

She walked away from Oliver and joined George by the entrance to the dance club. "Sorry about that."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just ready to dance now." She did her best to smile, but she knew it was forced.

Chloe allowed George to lead her onto the dance floor, and after a few minutes she began to relax. George was a great dancer, leading her through the salsa steps effortlessly. She laughed as he twirled her out and back, his strong arms coming around her. But her steps faltered when she glanced up and saw Oliver staring at them from the edge of the dance floor.

George sensed the change in her mood immediately and followed her gaze to Oliver. "He doesn't give up easily, I take it. Do you want me to talk to him?"

Chloe sighed. "No, but maybe it's better to just call it a night." Clearly, Oliver was determined to horn in on her date. She couldn't imagine why he was acting this way, but she'd had enough. She followed George off the dance floor and waited while he got their coats from the coat check. She felt a hand on her arm and turned to see Oliver behind her.

"Chloe, please. I need to talk to you." All of his earlier posturing was gone, and his brown eyes held a hint of uncertainty as he looked at her.

Chloe hesitated, torn. She looked up to see that George had returned and was staring at them, his expression unreadable. "Just… wait a minute."

She joined George by the exit. "Would you mind waiting for a few minutes while I talk to him?"

George looked at Oliver and then back at Chloe. "Look, I don't know what's going on between you two, but I have a pretty good idea. And if you'd rather stay here with him, then I get it."

"No, it's not that…"

He interrupted her as he handed over her jacket. "Chloe, it's okay. I'll wait outside for five minutes, and if you don't call or come out, I'll go ahead and leave. If you need me later, you can call me but… I think you two should straighten this out before things go any further between us."

Chloe sighed, knowing nothing she said was going to convince him that things weren't like that with Oliver. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too." He kissed her cheek and smiled before walking away.

Oliver stiffened when he saw George lean in to kiss Chloe. Ever since he'd arrived and saw Chloe at the bar with the detective, he'd been fighting the urge to physically pry them apart. George had been touching her all night, and it was driving him crazy.

And Chloe was making him even crazier in the purple dress she was wearing. He'd never seen her wearing a skirt that short, and the silver heels she was wearing made her legs look long and delectable. Her shoulders were bare aside from a single strap that crossed her left shoulder, and her pale skin seemed to glow beneath the club lights. She looked sexy and confident, and he felt uncharacteristically out of his depth all of a sudden.

He saw George leaving, and Chloe turned and walked back to him, looking frustrated.

"I really hope you have a good explanation for this, Oliver. And it better involve the world ending."

So, she was angry. He could work with that. "You look beautiful tonight, by the way."

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, apparently confused. "Oliver, what is going on with you tonight? Have you been drinking?"

"Not a drop," he replied easily, some of his confidence returning as she looked up at him. "I know you're not happy that I let George think we were having a lover's spat, but I didn't want you going home with him."

"Ok, I have no idea what's going on here," Chloe said. "Why wouldn't you want him to drive me home?"

"Because I don't want you to sleep with him." There – that should be clear enough.

Chloe's mouth fell open again. For once, she appeared to be completely speechless. Finally, she managed to reply. "Forget drinking – are you high or something? Did Clark put you up to this? Because if he did, I'm going to kill both of you."

"Chloe, this has nothing to do with Clark or even George, for that matter. This is about you and me, and the fact that if you want to explore a different side of things in the bedroom, I want it to be with me." Maybe that sounded better in his head, but at least he had finally gotten to the point.

"This is about the stuff I bought? You thought I'd use it with George, so you decided to torpedo my date with him?" She looked livid. "God, I can't even… I can't do this right now." She turned away, but not before he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes.

"Chloe, did you even hear what I said?" Oliver followed her down the hallway toward the ladies' room and caught her arm.

"You know, I've come to expect the big brother routine from Clark, but you are way out of line, Oliver."

He grasped her shoulders and forced her to look at him. "The last thing I feel toward you is brotherly, Chloe. I'm saying I want you. Come home with me."

Chloe stared up at him in disbelief. "What?"

Oliver started to repeat himself, but he lost his whole train of thought as he stared into her eyes. They seemed to be a deeper shade of green than usual, lit by the tiny flecks of yellow he could see in their depths. He leaned her back against the wall and kissed her, his hand sliding up into her hair and cradling the back of her head gently.

She made a tiny noise; not quite protest, but a sort of shocked squeak as her body stiffened against him. He pulled her closer, wrapping his left arm tightly around her as he drew her against his body. He put every ounce of the desire and frustration he'd been feeling all week into that kiss, and it seemed to go on forever. He pulled back a little, intending to talk to her, but Chloe suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Oliver didn't know how long they stood there in the darkened hallway, kissing each other again and again. It felt surreal, but it was also the best feeling he'd had in as long as he could remember. A rush of pure need coursed through him as her small body pressed against his, and the breathy little sounds she made as his hands moved down and cupped her hips, pulling her up harder against him, made him want to take her up against the wall right there in the club.

Reluctantly, he pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers. "Come home with me. Please."

Chloe opened her eyes and stared back at him, and he could see the vulnerability there, the uncertainty about what had just happened between them. "Ollie…"

"Shh," he said soothingly, cupping the side of her face. "Do you trust me?"

She hesitated for only a moment before nodding, her eyes never leaving his.

"Then come home with me." He waited, dreading the moment when she might end this before it even started.

Suddenly, she reached up and ran her hand across his jaw and around to the back of his neck. "Okay."

He kissed her again, slowly. "Let's go."

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this! Oh, and a reader asked me who I imagined as George Dean – I didn't have a lot of time to look for photos, but I'd say like a dark eyed Henry Cavill, but only certain photos fit my image of George (not the new Superman ones.) If you have a better suggestion, please share.