Ollie + team of superheroes are out saving some teen meteor infected from utter annihilation and getting them to safety in Gotham. Of course they made the mistake of leaving dear little Chloe behind and feeling rather bored.

Whatever will she get up to?

(Chapter requirements: Dirty Mind.)

Chapter Twenty Eight; Games

With the teens meeting Dinah in Gotham everything was running smoothly. They even had chance to stop in and break up a drug dealers meet 'n' greet party. Oliver planned to check out a few more warehouses since he had the group together. But first, his mind was still attached to Chloe land and wouldn't stop the constant chanting till he checked back in. He could swing by, check to make sure she wasn't tearing apart his life and maybe get a few kisses in… then again, he probably wasn't her favourite person right now.

He held up his hand, stopping the boys as they dropped down to a lower roof. Bart was even sticking with them, seeming content to be going at their pace tonight. It would be easier if Bart went back, quicker too. On that decision he turned back, his instruction ready to be headed.

"Impulse, check back with Watchtower." Bart grinned and was gone before they could blink. Ac and Victor rested against the brick of the adjacent wall waiting for the check up report. Oliver listened to the whoosh of air on the communication headsets as Bart ran. A door clicked open. His apartment. Shoes made contact with wood. His stairs.

'Yes. Yes. Oh god yes! –Oh my god! Bart, what the hell you doing here?'

"Woah. Sorry Chlo-a-licious. Didn't mean to interrupt the one on one time." A chuckle came across the ear piece and Oliver turned a shocking shade of green envy. What had he walked in on? What was the sight before the eager teen?

'You can't tell anyone. Swear it– Are they listening in? Oh god. Give that to me.' A ruffle of air came past then nothing but silence. She'd either turned it off or shoved it under a pillow to muffle the voices. Victor looked up at Oliver in question. He could do nothing but shrug, he had no idea what she had been doing… he hoped to god it wasn't what the blood running to his cock thought it was.

He knew her noises by heart now. They became the lullaby at night to calm his wild possessive spirit. They sang to him in sweet cannon, her sweet face in the grasp of her big O pulled to the front of his mind while he dealt with tedious business calls and angry clients. Billing forms and staff paperwork had not been the same since he first heard her and he had not been able to remove her distraction as his mind wandered yet again. She had taunted him before, saying she might get bored… but he had never thought she was serious. Till now.

12 torturous minutes later Bart was stood back with them. His cheeks red; from the run, or from Chloe? Oliver's green monster prepared for a fight to the death. Chloe was his.

"You do realise we need to know what just happened right?" Ac stated, pushing from the wall and squaring up to Bart. Oliver remained silent. He needed it for his own sanity. He needed to know it was platonic; that nothing happened. Maybe it saw some sick joke they were pulling on him. But...she sounded so real, so lost in her activity.

"Chloe swore me to silence. I'm not allowed to tell you." Oliver was ready to grab the boy by his childish curls and throw him into oncoming traffic if he didn't share. Before it came to that he continued. "However, she didn't say anything about vague descriptions." Victor chuckled. Bart practically came with an escape clause tattooed on his speeding ass.

"Alright. Share at your own leisure." Vic invited and crossed his arms across his chest.

"It was a male activity. Well, one that you associate more with men, but it's very so fucking sexy to see a woman doing it." Oliver's cheeks warmed as Bart danced around with the words streaming in the purest form of happiness. "Oh, and it was most definitely clothing appropriate. Which by the way: Yum! And the noises she made." Bart wolf whistled. "Quite the lungs on that one. Her sweet little fingers were oh so busy." Bart twiddled his fingers in demonstration. "She was so embarrassed when I found her, all covered in sweat. She practically attacked me to keep me silent. After she covered her 'activity' of course."

Ac and Victor laughed, joined by Bart.

Oliver's head was spinning in anger and jealousy. She was doing that… on his bed. All alone. No, not alone. Bart was there. Bart saw her! He wanted home as quickly as possible. Re-mark what was his. He wore her nail marks with pride, she should wear his possessive kisses, purple against her cream skin: she was his.

"We'll finish and leave." Oliver didn't need the voice distorted to sound gruff and authoritative this time. It was the pumping claim dying for Chloe.

Chloe flopped back onto the bed. Bart had scared her half to death. He had sworn secrecy but if he let slip and Oliver knew she was on his shooting game, trying to beat his top score for her ultimate bet, he'd call it all off. She was at 2% health with one clip left in her gun and trying to master expert level when Bart had sped in. Her successful winning high turned to shock. But it wasn't just for fun, she needed Oliver to be 100% sure he would win with these odds. His favourite game which he held the high score, he wouldn't think twice about possibly losing. She set back the controllers and game where she found them, having wiped off her new top scores and popped in a movie, waiting for Ollie to return.

She'd already caught herself 3 times edging toward the laptop to check their locations. Without guiding them she felt like she had lost them completely.

She had her game planned out though. Oliver would return and she would strike, while the iron was hot. Propose her possibly life-changing deal. If he won on his game she would let Emil take out Brainiac. If not, he would give her permission to fight, to go back to what she loved. He would train her to be powerful and no longer little miss ordinary sitting in her ivory tower, guarded by the prince of thieves.

She grinned, thinking of Oliver as her Robin Hood to her Maid Marian. True enough the man had an arrow aimed direct to her heart, but there was always the chance he could nick an artery and she'd bleed out before she could feel the sweet sting of love poisoning her system with its rich sugary kisses.

The Green Arrow returned to find his babe stretched out across the sofa, in her short pyjamas, watching a boring movie like nothing had happened that wasn't of the purest of innocent activities. This was the angel, the one who blushed at the naughty words in a book. He loved her as much as he loved her adventurous devil who ordered him naked and thrown up against the wall without so much as a batted eyelid.

"Oliver!" She spun around of the sofa leaning over its back and reaching out a hand to him. She certainly seemed angelic. But he knew better than to buy her façade. He'd fallen prey to it more than once. Her angel may draw you in, but it was the devil's tongue that grabbed you after that and you became its prisoner. He pushed the leather hood down, the glasses off. She tumbled from the sofa with an unexpected grace before he could do anymore and her hands took his wrists, the gloves exciting her skin. "I have a proposition." Her eyes gleamed, the inner imp showing its true agenda.

"A proposition?" he repeated. "I decline. Whatever it is, I don't like the look in your eyes." No he didn't like it. He loved it. But it's was the danger it conveyed he was in love with and that could lead to no good.

"But you haven't heard it yet." She pouted and he was gone, sold down the river of sin.

"Fine. What do you propose that couldn't wait another second longer?"

"A bet. 'A final. Last ever. Won't ask for it ever again' bet." Okay, he was hooked. What could she possibly want? He knew the answer the instant he asked it.

"I'm not teaching you to fight." he stated.

"That's fine. I thought you might like the opportunity to remove Brainiac from me. That's all. But if you won't…" Oh his conniving little princess of darkness had him by his balls and wasn't loosening her grip.

"What's the bet?" She grinned in triumph.

"One round. On your stupid game. You win; I get Emil to take out Brainiac. I win, you teach me to fight, and you don't keep me from missions."

"Hardly fair that you get two things." he observed, his mind searching for trickery from his mischievous minx.

"Fine. Brainiac goes and you can choose a page. Any page you want." Her eyes pointedly flickered to the sex guide on the sofa. "I finished reading it by the way. And Eleanor X. My favourite chapter was 30." She always was a sucker for the endings. Plus it wasn't the hard fast fuck, it was the slow love making adoration act where everything became the 'happily ever after'. She might not trust herself to find it in real life, but in fiction it was always her favourite.

He rose an eyebrow, not expecting her reaction. Chapter 30 was the lover's chapter where everything was about the confessions of love and where he proposed. She had politely declined, not wanting the labels to define them, but it was the romance in the chapter, rather than the sex, that dominated.

"Which game?" he asked. Making sure she had no escape in her conditions.

"Your choice. Any you want."

"Have you played any before?" If Brainiac already had a hold on them she would easily kick his ass, but if she hadn't played them before he would easily take her before the bug could even think.

"You seriously think I sit around playing these? I watched Victor on a few." He missed her evasion of the question. Would it be his downfall?

"Which?" he asked and she pointed. Chloe grinned, her finger missing the one he held the furthest lead on. Of course he would choose that one, and she had skilfully dodged the question of her previous plays. "How about we try a different one? Go retro?" She hadn't expected that, but she could hardly pass it up. Besides, all his games functioned the same: aim, shoot, watch die. It shouldn't be too hard to adapt Brainiac to it. Chloe smiled, still holding a secret advantage. It wasn't the one she wanted or predicted, but she could work with it.

"Sure. Your choice." she repeated. Oliver fished out some old first edition game from beside the TV and waved it before her. She'd played its successors recently, so how hard could it really be? Oliver turned back, checking through the rules again.

"One round?" She nodded. "And if I win you will definitely remove Brainiac?" She nodded. "And, any pages?" He cocked her a grin, he wouldn't pass up that opportunity.

"Any page your sick twisted fantasies desire. I promise. And you swear in return you will teach and let me guide you again?" He nodded.

"Do we have a deal?" She accepted his gloved hand, letting the leather send sparks of excitement up her arm. She'd have to remember to find him when he was wearing those sometime. "When do you wanna do this?" he asked, allowing her time to re-think.

"I find myself with nothing to do now." she simply answered.

"Alright. Now it is." He tugged off his gloves and unzipped the leather top, stripping it off so he sat casually in his black short sleeved top and the green leather bottoms. He would have changed totally, but what was the point when he'd be taking them off for her later anyway? He fixed up the controllers and game, setting the screen and options. Playing innocent she asked for a quick 'what does what?' explanation to which he explained then the game began.

Grenades sailed through the air.

The ground taking blow after blow.

Weapons were emptied and discarded at rapid speeds.

Scores changed in the blink of an eye then flew back again.

Traps were set, avoided and activated.

Fingers tapped at unrivalled speeds.

Buttons combinations flew through their minds.

The room filled with the sound of bullets, the groan of characters and the response of players.

Blood stained the dirt.

Motorbikes and vehicles became shields to a war of dignity.

Squeals left Chloe's lips.

Murmurs left Oliver.

More bullets, more wounds, more blood.

Adrenaline raced the track of arteries as they battle intensified.

Hits were taken. Lives were lost and at the end of the game a winner was called.

The difference between them being a margin of two points.

Two points which could have easily been collected from firing an extra machine gun round.

Two points which could have been found by using a mini first aid kit from the supplies.

Two tiny points were nothing compared to the high scores they were battling with. Yet these two were the most significant measly points to define the winner. But a winner was called and the deal was made. This was the start and the end. With no time for any regrets. Her fate was sealed.

"I met him!" Dinah announced, walking through like she owned the place. Chloe turned from the sofa, flipping off the tv she had been passively watching. Oliver was amiss somewhere. Lord knows what he was doing.

"Who?" Chloe couldn't help but ask, lending Dinah the conversational ropes. She happily accepted.

"Him. The night one. Batman" she announced.

"You met the Batman?" Colour her cynical, colour her jealous. "Are you sure it wasn't some phoney?"

"Oh. Trust me. He was all real." Dinah's dreamlike state took centre stage and she settled into the couch opposite Chloe. "I was watching from the roofs, hanging back, making sure we weren't followed. And I saw this shape. This beautiful dark shape leaping from this building. So curious as a cat I follow and the next thing I know I'm pinned under him and he's purring deep and dark, straight to my soul."

"Who are you?" he asked. His solid weight pinning her down. Dinah licked her lips; this was a real man. She scoffed and bucked him off. Only two seconds later she was back under him, her front pressed to the cold concrete his hands pressing hers to the floor, away from her weapons. "Answer me!" he ordered, and she almost melted. The Batman was laid atop her.

"I don't care much for your tone." Dinah smiled and with a flick of her leg and quick movements she was out from under him, standing cowboy style opposite each other. Her insides fluttered. What a man… so muscled, so postured, so… he must be rich, she deduced, her ability to smell a billionaire never failing her. Even more so, she had this feeling he was single. How she knew? Years and years of mistakes put you on the fast track of the learning curve and she had become its mistress. Yep, the man stank of corporate business. He'd wear a suit well too. Gotham's own version of Oliver Queen. Oliver had mentioned him, but she never thought she'd be staring into the chiselled chest of the hero.

"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice rough, dark and stimulating. A distorter? Or maybe it was all man. She trailed her tongue slowly round her lips, wetting them.

"I could ask you the same thing." she purred. She stepped left, he mirrored her. A smirk took her. "Don't you have babies to be kissing and hands to be shaking?" His frown faltered and a chuckle breezed out.

"Not tonight. I'm helping a friend." he replied cryptically.

"This friend doesn't happen to have a fetish for green leather does he? Because really, it's not your style and you should think of following other people."

"Black Canary." he summarised.

"The elusive Batman. I know I should be honoured, but I'm still breathing. What if I had been a murderer you let up?"

"I knew you were good."

"So the pathetic fighting style was all just an act? A 'Green Arrow says; Batman does' kind of thing? Because I think you missed you target Bat boy."

"They're safe with me here now." She rose an eyebrow at him.

"Cocky much? To say you got beat by a girl."

"I'm a gentleman; I let you win." He smiled again. It was heavenly, but amiss the choir of angels. Oh, there were dark hints in him… and she couldn't wait to explore.

"No such thing." she denied. "You don't want to admit you lost." She twirled a strand of short hair. "Wanna try again?" she invited but before he could respond she was hand to handing it with the black material of the hero, tossing aside his array of weapons as she went. Proving just how easy it was to disarm him. How weak he was. Each punch, blocked and caught seemed ineffectual. Each kick, was met with a move of his own. They covered the roof, forward and back, left and right. Edge to edge they fought, yet Dinah kept her song to herself and he made no attacks or advances at all. Till he had to.

Dinah overshot a punch, not expecting him to dodge quite so much and was carried away, falling to the floor with gravity's pull, only instead of face planting after a 3 story free-fall, she found herself pulled to his hard muscular frame, the Kevlar slammed solid against her breasts in her own suit. She felt her heart kick up speed in her chest.

"You should be careful." he reprimanded, his voice suddenly softer, quieter, more seductive. Taking out his leg she let him fall back, to straddle him, then in a second flash they were back to how they started; her pinned by his weight staring up to his soulful eyes and flushed lips. Stubble sat accentuating his sharp jaw line, drawing her in. "Like I said. I let you win." She smiled and flexed her arms, feeling them tight in his grasp, she was going no-where. But Dinah had an ace up her sleeve. Maybe more a desire than an ace. But this was two birds and one polished perfected stone.

Acting on desire for taste and want for freedom she arched upwards, colliding her lips with his. He instantly dropped his guard, lost to her power. His hands freed hers, for more contact, to touch, to feel. Instead of leaping for freedom she was too lost, her tongue parting his lips and dancing with his. Oh, the taste. She felt all excitement race around her body, firing all her engines to high drive. Her arms looped around his neck, pulling him closer, angling for that deeper penetration, the pleasure of taking his bottom lip with hers and toying with it. He was putty for her all too capable hands.

There was only one thing that could bring a strong man to his knees. Simply put; it was a woman.

Dinah was 100% that woman for him.

A burglar alarm went off a few streets away breaking through paradise. They both heard it and he backed off, but his eyes refused to leave her.

"They need me." he spoke, his breath a whisper across her lips; plump and reddened from the kiss. Almost like he was justifying it to himself he nodded and suddenly they were both vertical. "I'll make a point of seeing you again." he swore and unwound his arm from her waist.

"Not from around here you know."

"Then I'll make sure Arrow gives you free time." He winked and turned, jumping from the roof. She followed, watching as he climbed into the sleek, shiny, black bat car and squealed the tyres, pulling out sharp and flying round the corner. Dinah sighed.

That was her type of man.

"So, I'm thinking of stalking around Gotham for a while, maybe causing some disorder to lure him back out. We can duel tongues again." she spoke dreamily.

"What was it like? Actually meeting him?" Chloe couldn't but want the entire scope, start to finish. She had spent months poured over his story in Gotham, to not have the details was a tease she had no desire to ignore. Dinah paused her answer and sat back.

"He was different…" she summarised.

"Different? How?" Chloe was hooked. Hanging on every word.

"Well. I guess I'm so used to hanging around these guys that any other super hero seems wild and wacky. But, he had this certain flair about him. More professional and exotic than our party of rebels. And physique wise: Oh my god. That Kevlar hugged him so close I could feel every breath." Dinah fanned herself over dramatically. "But I have a feeling I'll be seeing him soon again. Well, he'll come to me I think." She winked and slipped a hand into her boot, pulling out two bat shaped blades. "I may have got a little hand-sy during my exploration." Dinah admitted, without any shame. "I figured they looked expensive and he'd probably need them back. So I'd get to see him again." Dinah grinned at her own logic. "Maybe next time it won't just be his weapons I'll get a feel of."

"Yet again. I did not want to know that." Oliver's voice carried down as he walked into the room, Dinah turning the weapons in her hand. Chloe tensed up, she wanted to inspect them, to find a finger print. To put a name to the hero. Sure, Chloe already had her idea and was relatively sure she had the right man in mind. But to actually confirm that, she wouldn't pass up the opportunity. Dinah slipped them back in her boot. Lord knows how she felt comfy walking with them. "He says you can keep whatever you stole, by the way." Oliver took happiness in bursting her bubble. Dinah shrugged and then like a truck had hit her she wheeled around to Chloe.

"You're...! Oh my, you are aren't you!" Her arms were madly waving as she bounced on the spot. Chloe's eyes widened in fear. Dinah knew she was sleeping with Ollie. She didn't know how, but she was sure the cat was out of the bag. Oliver had no idea what she was going about, but that was cured in the next second. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you slept with him. I knew you would." Oliver laughed at Chloe's discomfort.

"Dinah. Go home." he spoke. She threw a look over her shoulder at him. Whatever went on between them there was no verbal fight and she flipped her hair on her grand exit. Chloe's eyes followed Dinah, missing Oliver's own movement as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Are we good?" he asked, a whisper in the silence. "No regrets about our deal." She turned back to him, lips talking against his.

"Never" she swore and kissed him in tease.

"Bed?" he asked. She nodded and followed his lead, their hands together, fingers crossed with fingers in an eternal promise.

There was no going back. It was agreed. Everything changed in a matter of hours. Either way, she'd go to bed tomorrow night feeling very different indeed.

Ha ha ha. Evil you call me? Of course I am. Have we not covered this enough?

Apocalyptical Angel = the very essence of evil and tease. And she loves every second of it.

Don't worry. You'll find out who wins next chapter.