Part IX

The douchebag was Oliver. A wave of anger came with her realization, and Lois clenched the railing in an attempt to control it. She downed the champagne in her glass and then took a slug directly from the bottle. She wanted so badly to call him on it right there in the club, and only the very public setting had her biting back the words.

She couldn't believe she hadn't realized it was Oliver sooner. She'd ruled out practically everyone at The Daily Planet, so the remaining list of men had been on the short side. She'd even begun to suspect it might be someone at the university. But after going through Chloe's list of classes and professors, she hadn't been able to pinpoint anyone.

How had it started? She knew Chloe did some freelance computer programming for Oliver on the side, and it struck her now that Chloe must know about his Green Arrow activities. That's what she was probably helping him with, and it explained how they'd gotten so close without her knowing about it.

It had never occurred to her that Oliver and Chloe might be a good match, though it probably would have if she'd had any idea Chloe was in on his vigilante status. Oliver needed the kind of woman who could help him achieve what he was working towards; someone who would call him on his bullshit and keep his ego in check while encouraging him to be better than he thought he could be. Chloe certainly fit that description.

So then what the hell was his problem? Chloe clearly had strong feelings for Oliver, and she was loyal to a fault. He'd never do better, that was for damn sure. And yet he was screwing around with her emotionally like the ass-backward playboy the tabloids so often accused him of being.

She looked at Oliver again, noting how his eyes were glued to Chloe and George. The expression on his face was difficult to read, but his eyes told another story. He's jealous, she thought suddenly. It wasn't a flowery declaration, but it was definitely something she could work with.

"See the guy with Chloe? That's George Dean. He and Chloe have dated before, so I'm crossing my fingers that the sparks start flying again tonight." She watched him carefully, and the way Oliver's knuckles turned white before his hands relaxed on the rail betrayed his agitation.

"I know who he is because I saw them at Bongo's the night she went out with him. But I don't think one date can be classified as dating, Lois."

Interesting. When she'd asked both George and Chloe about the date, neither of them had mentioned anything about seeing Oliver. "How do you know it was just one date?"

Oliver shrugged. "Clark must have mentioned it."

Yeah, right. "That's weird. Do you and Clark spend a lot of time talking about Chloe's love life?"

Oliver glanced at Lois, seeming to finally catch on to the fact that she was upset. "I…"

"Ollie, they're bringing out the cake in a few minutes – we need you!"

Lois turned to see the Playboy bunny pouting in their direction. "Button it, Bambi. We're having a conversation, and you're not a part of it."

"It's Candy, not Bambi," the woman said, looking put out by Lois' rudeness.

"And trust me when I tell you that no one cares what your name is," Lois shot back.

"Okay, let's just take a breather Lois." Oliver pulled her away from the railing and over to a more private corner of the room. "Unless you want to be featured on the cover of The Inquisitor, that is."

Lois felt her control slipping as she snatched her arm away from Oliver and poked him in the chest. "Maybe I don't want to take a breather, Mr. Douchebag. I know you're the one Chloe's been seeing, though I guess that's a loose term for what you've really been doing. And I wouldn't have minded if you were serious about it, but now that you're just screwing her over and playing Oliver Queen mind games with her, I'm mad as hell. And frankly the only reason I haven't knocked you on your ass yet is because I don't want to make this harder on Chloe."

Oliver looked a little stunned by her tirade. "I don't know which part of that I should respond to first."

"How about this? How dare you play the playboy card with Chloe after she's been crying over you this week? You let that tramp crawl all over you right in front of her – no wonder she took off downstairs so damn fast."

"Look, I know I screwed up with Chloe, believe me. I've been kicking myself all week, and no one is sorrier than I am that I hurt her," Oliver replied, his frustration evident in his tone. "But what was I supposed to do? I didn't even know you would be here."

Lois put her hands on her hips. "You're sorry? Not as sorry as you're going to be. Out of all the women you could charm into your bed for a little no strings fun, you picked Chloe? What the hell were you thinking, Oliver? She deserves more than being one of the tawdry little notches on your bedpost."

"It's not like that," Oliver ground out. "I care about Chloe. I wouldn't degrade her like that."

"And you don't see that's exactly what you did, do you?" Lois shook her head, her anger deflating slightly.

"I know I fucked up this week. I had a shitty day in the office courtesy of Lex, and I was upset. I never meant to hurt her like that, I just…" Oliver shook his head. "I wasn't ready to talk about it."

"Opening up to people is hard – I get it, believe me. Chloe knows about your other activities, doesn't she? That's the work she does for you." When Oliver nodded, she continued. "Ollie, that's your biggest hurdle right there – for once, you have someone you can trust. Chloe cares about you, but if you don't have the same feelings for her, you need to walk away. It will hurt, but right now she has a chance to get over you. If you keep stringing her along, though, the fallout is going to get ugly for both of you."

"That's what you think I should do? Just let it end here and walk away?" Oliver's posture was defensive as he spoke.

God, men could be so dense. "I think you should stop making it about you and ask yourself what you're prepared to give her, Oliver. What you have to understand about Chloe is that she doesn't always ask people for what she needs, and she'll keep giving you pieces of herself until she doesn't have anything left to give. She doesn't trust easily, but once she gives her heart, she's all in. You have to offer her something in return."

He was quiet for a moment. "I need to talk to her, but I can't do that here."

"No, you definitely can't because I'll put both my Jimmy Choos up your ass if her name gets dragged through the tabloids," Lois warned him, crossing her arms.

"The last thing I want is for Chloe to get hurt. I hope you believe that."

Lois frowned as he rejoined his friend's birthday celebration, his trademark smile and careless demeanor firmly in place. She believed Oliver wouldn't intentionally set out to hurt Chloe, but that didn't mean it wouldn't happen. And though there might not be anything she could do to stop it, she had a feeling she knew what might get Oliver moving in the right direction.

Chloe smiled, watching the future bride and groom laugh as they danced rather badly to the song playing. "They seem really happy."

"They are," George confirmed. "We grew up together, you know – all three of us. What they have is pretty special. It's exactly what I want someday."

Chloe glanced up at him and her cheeks warmed at the way he was looking at her. "It's what we all want, isn't it? Unfortunately, life's not a fairytale for most of us."

"That's kind of cynical for someone so young, don't you think?"

"Young in body, but some days I feel about 100 years old in spirit," she joked. "I guess I've just seen the flip side of happily ever after too often to believe in it too much."

George leaned forward. "My grandparents were married for more than sixty years before my grandfather passed, and my parents have been married for thirty-five. My sister is also happily married and while there are no guarantees, her husband worships the ground she walks on and I like to think that won't change."

"That's kind of naïve for someone out of high school, don't you think?" She meant for it to be funny, but her quip fell flat. "Sorry. It's just… my mom left when I was young. And even though I found out later that the circumstances were beyond her control, it didn't change the fact that she broke my dad's heart and I grew up without a mother."

"I'm sorry," George murmured sympathetically. "That must have been rough."

Chloe tried to laugh it off. "No, I'm sorry. I don't know why I just told you that. It's not really the time or the place, and I'm putting a damper on this party which means it's probably time I went home."

"Do you need a ride?" George glanced up at the VIP area. "Or do you already have one?"

"I don't actually." Chloe stood and allowed George to help her with her jacket. When she saw Lois approaching them, she said, "Just let me tell Lois that we're heading out." She met her cousin halfway, hoping she wouldn't be upset that she was done for the night.

"You're leaving?" Lois asked. "But you haven't danced at all since you got here."

"George offered to drive me home and to be honest, I'm kind of exhausted."

Lois' pout was replaced by a satisfied look. "Well, then don't let me keep you two. And I seriously think you should give George another chance, Chlo. He likes you, and he's the kind of guy who doesn't come along very often."

Chloe's eyes wandered back to the VIP section. Oliver appeared to be having a good time, though she knew appearances could be deceiving. She'd helped craft a few of his 'good time' tabloid stories herself before, so it could very well be an act. The problem was that she didn't have enough insight into this part of his life, and it made separating fact from fiction a lot harder.

Chloe tore her gaze away from Oliver and forced a smile for Lois. "I'll think about it, but that's all I can promise you. Talk to you tomorrow?"

Lois hugged Chloe. "Yeah – love you."

Chloe kept the conversation light on the drive to her dorm. When they arrived, George walked around to help her out of the car. Chloe was very aware of the warmth of his hand around hers and the overall steadiness that was George Dean. He'd be a rock – someone she could lean on, and it was tempting. She knew he wouldn't hesitate to introduce her to his friends and his family; there'd be no question that they were in a committed relationship if she chose that path with him.

At the door she turned to face him. He signaled his intention before making any move, and she allowed the warm brush of his lips against hers because she needed to know the possibilities. And they were there, like little seedlings that could be nurtured and encouraged to blossom. But it would never be the same as it was with Oliver.

When he pulled back, she smiled at him. "Thank you."

His own smile was regretful. "I won't lie; I wish things were different. I hope Oliver gets how lucky he is."

"Things with Oliver and I are..." she paused, searching for the right word. "I guess complicated is the only way to describe us right now."

"Does complicated mean we can't get to know each other better?" Noting Chloe's hesitation, he clarified. "As friends, Chloe. I understand that's all that's on the table right now."

She reached out and squeezed his hand. "I'd like that."

Oliver gripped the steering wheel as he watched Chloe with George outside her dormitory. When Chloe left the club, he wasted no time in following, and he'd hoped to catch her before she went inside. He hadn't counted on George being with her or walking her to the door. Then he kissed her, and Chloe let him. It was like a knife in his gut.

He pulled away from the curb and drove to the Clocktower, not bothering to turn on the lights when he got upstairs. He thought about going for the scotch and trying to forget for one night. Instead, he sat in the chair facing his floor-to-ceiling windows and listened to the low level hum of the city nightlife.

He told himself that maybe Chloe was better off with someone like George. His life was more or less an open book, and it was clear he was interested in pursuing her. He didn't have the same ghosts tearing at him that Oliver had, and he didn't have the constant demands on his time. Chloe could have her white picket fence and a dog, and maybe one day she'd plant tulips and irises for her own daughter the way Moira had done for her.

And eventually she'd walk away from him and the League. She'd have to if she wanted to have that kind of life because it wouldn't be possible otherwise. If he really cared about her, he should want that for her – a full life safe from the dangers his world threatened.

"I wasn't sure you'd be here."

Her voice startled him, and he turned to see Chloe illuminated by the dim light from the hallway. Oliver stood up slowly. "What are you doing here?"

She started walking, and she didn't stop until she was right in front of him. "I saw your car pulling away from my dorm." When he said nothing, she sighed. "I wanted to tell you that I'm angry with you, and I think I have a right to be angry. You can't just have me here whenever you want me and then send me away when you don't, Oliver. I'm not like those girls at your party tonight."

"You're right, and I'm sorry." Oliver reached out and touched her bare shoulder. It had been almost a week since they were last together, and he wanted her so much it was a physical ache. "I've gotten used to being alone, I guess. Having someone here to share with is new for me."

"I know." Her voice was soft. "I know about the factory deal you lost to Lex. I know how that must have made you feel."

Oliver led her over to the sofa and sat, pulling her into his lap. "It wasn't just about that. It's also about how I can find a balance – with you, with my company, with the League. There's a reason I've kept my personal life uncomplicated up until now. But you and I are complicated, Chloe – especially now that Lois has figured us out."

She sighed. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised because she's been snooping into every corner of my life all week – she's determined but not subtle. Is she angry?"

"With you, no – but I'm probably lucky I got out of the club alive." Oliver stroked his hand down her back and then wrapped both arms around her, hugging her tightly. "I missed you this week."

Her arms crept around him, her head nestling into the curve of his shoulder. "Me too."

Neither spoke for a while. Oliver allowed himself to relax, his breathing evening out to match hers. "I don't want to lose you, Chloe. I saw George kiss you tonight and I hated it - hated seeing you with him. Before you got here though, I was thinking maybe you were better off with someone like him… someone not so damaged. And there's still a part of me that's scared I'm going to screw this up like I've screwed up every other relationship I've tried and failed at, but I think I'd regret it if I let you go right now."

"Ollie, you're not damaged – at least, no more than I am. Do you think I don't get scared?" She sat back and met his gaze. "Because I do. And things might be easier with George, but it doesn't mean it would be better for me."

Oliver reached out and cupped her cheek gently. "Is it okay if we agree to go slowly? I swear I won't shut you out again like I did this week, but I need time to find that balance. And Lois said something to me tonight – about this not being just about me – so I want you to tell me what you need to make this work right now."

"I can agree to go slowly as long as you let me in," she answered. "I can't be in your bed but on the outside of the rest of your life. I mean, there's Oliver the public figure, there's Green Arrow, and then there's you – just Ollie. I need you to let me know all of you." Her hands crept around his neck, fingers sliding through his hair. She shifted against him, moving in closer, her hair feather soft as it brushed against his face.

Oliver nodded, but forgot what he was going to say when she kissed him. He gripped her waist before moving his hands down to cup her hips. When she moved against him again, he stood and carried her to the bedroom.

Chloe stepped out of her heels and unfastened the halter neck of her dress, allowing it to fall to the floor. Oliver's eyes swept over her; her skin was pale and perfect against the midnight blue lace of her strapless bra and panty set, and his fingers slid beneath the lace at her hips. Within moments she lay bare beneath him and he undressed quickly before following her onto his bed.

"You're beautiful," he murmured as his lips traveled across her collar bone. "And smart, and funny, and perfect."

She shivered beneath him and tilted her head to kiss the side of his neck. "God, you feel good."

Oliver touched her everywhere, enjoying the taste and feel of her body beneath his, the low moans and the way she responded to him. His movements were slow at first but gradually became more aggressive as her hands moved over him, sending little tremors down his spine and straight to his groin.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head as he kissed her slowly. She strained against him, drawing her knees up to his waist, and he entered her, careful to give her time to adjust after their time apart. Oliver knew all the places to touch her now – knew the spots that would make her shudder and moan. He wanted to make Chloe forget that he'd hurt her, wanted her to forget George and the way he'd kissed her. More than that, he wanted her to realize she was his.

Afterward they lay together quietly, both seeming to sense the change but not wanting to test the fragile nature of it by voicing it aloud. And for now, the knowing was enough.

Just when Oliver thought she'd fallen asleep, she asked softly, "How did you know about my favorite flowers, Ollie?"

He ran his fingers soothingly through her hair as he answered her. "I remembered you mentioning once that you like tulips, but I knew the irises were special because you have them delivered to your mom – always the purple ones. I asked Clark about it last year, and he told me that your mom planted them for you when you were a little girl."

"Her mom used to plant them for her, too," Chloe said sleepily, snuggling into him. "Thank you."

Oliver tightened his arms around her and stroked her hair gently until she fell asleep. For the first time in almost a week, he felt content.

A/N: Home Stretch! This was kind of a difficult writing exercise for me, so I appreciate the support from you guys. I've been editing Part X today and making little changes, but I'll get it up soonish. We haven't quite reached our happily ever after, but we are getting close! :)