Reaction Time (Part One)

(Spoilers for Warrior)

Chloe opened the doors to the Watchtower, anticipating a relaxing evening with the only thing she could depend on anymore: machines. She understood them, at least. She couldn't get a grasp on people. Not anymore. The last person she'd tried to connect to, with Lois' words about grasping a hot hunk ringing in her ears, had turned out to be a damned preteen.

Last time she listened to Lois, that was for sure.

She wasn't sure what she thought would happen, even if he had been for real. Maybe for... Oh, God! Who was she kidding? She was hoping for something like Clark.

Not the guy that sped in and out, info in hand with hardly a hi or goodbye, but that boy she used to know. The one who told her he trusted her, the one that told her she meant so much to him. She'd be blind if she didn't see that the erstwhile "Stephen Swift" had borne a striking resemblance, powers-wise, to Clark Kent. A part of her had thought she could start over with him, be important to him in the ways she no longer was to Clark.

The fact that he was, just like Clark, gorgeous, was just a bonus.

Of course, just like Clark, he seemed to want no parts of the used up wad that was Chloe Sullivan. He even took it one step further, trying to speed up her untimely demise. Clark had, perfunctorily, stepped in before she hit the ground. So she supposed she should be grateful she wasn't a stain on the pavement. If only she could be. Hell, Clark wasn't exactly thrilled she was with the living these days. She wasn't, either. She wasn't even sure she was living these days.

She strolled in, hoping, it seemed, in vain, for no more surprises. Like all her hopes, it was dashed. This time by an arrow slicing the air and hitting a target.

Ollie. A Target. In The Watchower. "Slow night?" she surmised.

"Figured I'd squeeze in some target practice," he gave her a small smile, "and a single malt," he said, nodding to the side table.

"Did you bring enough for the rest of the class?" She shrugged off her jacket, thinking of Courtney's words a week or so ago. Might not be so bad to hang out here with actual people, rather than machines. She was sure a high-schooler wasn't talking about boozing it up, but it was a start. And what was the harm in a drink? Especially after last night.

"Help yourself, Professor."

Professor. She liked that. It didn't sound at all like the kind of idiot that would pin her hopes on a boyish smile and the promise of heroism. She pushed both Clark and Stephen... no, Alec, out of her mind.

"Running a little light on the allegory tonight. Bumpy day?"

She wanted to ask why she was expected to give some spectacular speech on demand. She supposed she could tell him that she'd spent the last night with an all-too-obvious Clark substitute, flew over the city, fell over the city, nearly died, and guess what? The guy was in grade school.

Instead, she grabbed the bottle and a glass with her jacket and moved to the sofa, boiling it down to the essentials. That was all she had the energy for. "Not the smoothest. Someone asked me when the last time I had a good time was and," she kicked off her pinching shoes as she poured, "I didn't have an answer." She sipped the bitter brew as he turned to her, almost daring him to name a good time. Even her own damned wedding was a blur. And that was supposed to be the best day of a woman's life. Maybe it was just as well, considering her husband nearly died, divorced her mere weeks later, then really died in her arms in this very room and...

"I don't think anyone can fault you for being on edge, Chloe."

She stared at him almost defiantly. They just better not.

He turned back to his target. "If anyone can relate, it's me. I get it."

She let out a bitter chuckle. "Yeah, you can." It was strange, how things worked out. As much as she'd resented Ollie last year, he was the only one with her now. The only one she had to talk to about her life, her real life, after a long day. Not that John wasn't around, but he still had a job on the force. Clark was so unavailable to her even when he was there that he might as well have never come back.

She just had Ollie. And he did get it. Despite what she and the rest of the team had done to get Green Arrow back on the straight and narrow, Oliver Queen was twisting in the wind, much like Chloe Sullivan. Watchtower and Green Arrow had a purpose, but what to do when that was over? Not much. Let alone anything fun.

"You know, sometimes you gotta take your fun," he let an arrow fly right to the bullseye. "where you can get it," he finished. She figured that must be fun if you never missed. "And sometimes it's right in front of your face." He picked up another arrow. She held her smile as he turned to her. "You just have to want to see it." His smiled widened, then faded. "Come on."

She took another long sip and placed her drink down, deciding to go along. She padded toward him in her bare feet, wondering what he thought she'd gain from target practice. He had a a student, he had Mia. They'd been working together for months now. She doubted a neophyte like her would get anything out of one night of archery.

He held the crossbow out and she stepped in, taking it, thinking maybe this had nothing to do with skill. Maybe this was about fun. So why wasn't he smiling anymore?

And why wasn't she? "How do I know when to let go?" she asked, her voice sounding suddenly breathless. She didn't mean it to, but his left hand was sliding over hers, his fingers almost caressing where she held the bow in place.

"It's all about your heart," he whispered, breath stirring the hair that rested over her ear. It seemed nearly incidental, except his other hand was sliding over the right hand that was pulling the bow back. "Just listen. Right there in between the beats." His middle finger slid so slightly between her own fingers that she thought she might have imagined it, except for how time had slowed down. "That's when you let go," he whispered, so light now that she hardly heard it. She felt the words as they left him, as his hand left hers, as she straightened and released the arrow, as it zoomed towards... the edge of the target.

She sagged against him, still clutching the bow, wondering if this was what she thought it was.

"Not bad," he said lowly. "I think we could get closer."

Bet we can't, she wanted to say, but didn't. She didn't know what to do with this. The arrow had stopped shaking at the edge of the target and he was still pasted to her back. Not only that, the hand that had been covering hers was now at the waistband of her skirt, one callused finger sliding back and forth along the edge, only barely touching skin.

She had the distinct feeling she was being seduced and it wasn't something she'd ever dealt with before.

She really hadn't.

With Jimmy, it was a sort of stuttering, blushing invitation. Even through nearly three years, on and off, that never changed.

With Davis, even though they'd never even made it to the bedroom, the near worshipful gazes told her he wanted it to go there. But he never made a move. She wondered if she might have responded if she had. She was a red-blooded woman recovering from a divorce from the only man that had ever thought her sexy. Now another man, even with the monster inside, found her attractive. There was a part of her that wondered if she could be with another man. Her fitful dreams seemed to egg it on, but in reality... Things were too complicated and tied up with Clark. It was really about Clark. And Clark...

The closest she'd come to Clark seducing her was when, as she'd later found out, Lionel had taken up residence in his body. She wasn't sure if that was more of a commentary on her desirability. or lack thereof, or on Clark's repressed tendencies.

Suffice it to say, Chloe Sullivan had never been seduced in her life. So it was hard to figure out how to react when it was, in fact, happening.

She decided to pretend she didn't notice. "We can always try again," she said, going for casual, but ending up sounding like she was being choked.

"Sure, we can." His hand stayed on her waist as she turned to pull another arrow from the quiver. "I'll have you hitting the bullseye before this night's over."

She swallowed a chuckle as she straightened. Even that sounded sexual right now. Or maybe it was supposed to. But maybe it wasn't. That was the problem. Maybe this really was a hands-on archery lesson and she, so unused to being touched now, was taking it all wrong. Last week, John had only placed his hand over hers and she thought she might burst into tears on the spot. She was definitely not up on human interaction and what it meant so maybe...

"Straighten up." His hand moved from her waist to her back, pressing inward. She did chuckle then. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Just marveling at how off I am these days." She smiled ruefully at the target and pulled her shoulders back. "I definitely need more reaction time than most people. I just get it all wrong."

"I only said to straighten your back. Didn't know you'd take it so deep."

"You know me."

"Well, I'm trying to." He nudged the arm holding the bow as she pulled back. "Stiffen that up."

"Okay, okay." She focused on the target, lifting her chin.

"There you go." His hand moved from her back to her waist, then...

She let go and it ricocheted off the edge of the target, embedding itself in the wall. She didn't mean to, but his hand was on her stomach and though that could still be interpreted as another innocent part of an archery lesson, the erection that was pressing into the small of her back couldn't.

Yes. Definitely being seduced.

"Premature release." Ollie snickered. "Not usually the woman's problem."

And sex jokes now. She tried to force a laugh, but she was just frozen. Was she really supposed to continue blithely shooting arrows?

"Come on. We got one more." One long arm reached around her, pulling the last arrow as his chin slid along her shoulder. "I think you're gonna get it now," he said, the words brushing her neck as he straightened.

And you're gonna give it to me, her brain supplied loopily.

She went through the motions as his hands guided her, damned near doing it for her, whispering words of encouragement as her eyes glazed over. Vision became completely unnecessary as she could hear everything, feel everything. The sort of squeak of the string as it stretched, the callouses on his fingers as he slid them over hers again, the slight rasp of his jeans against the back of her blouse as he moved her into position, the way the air was sliced just before the bolt hit home.

Her vision cleared as she stared at the bullseye and her contribution to it. "I did it?" It was more of a question than an exultation.

"Yeah, you did." His hands were still on her, one on resting on her shoulder, one loosely wrapped around her wrist, still hanging in the air.

"Guess that was fun," she said, her lips curving upwards.

"Very." His hand left her wrist, by way of a long journey along her arm. "So What do we do now? Want me to teach you some more?"

Her wrist dropped, as did her smile.

"It's up to you, Chloe. Whatever you want."

It was and that was the problem. What did she want? Her mind raced over the possible choices. She could stall, retrieve the arrows, go on with the lesson, and pretend she had no idea he was talking about sex. Or she could drop the crossbow and the pretense and turn to face him. Whichever she chose, she was damned sure they'd end up on that couch, it was just a question of now or later.

There was a sort of delightful anticipation in dragging this out. How often did attractive billionaires try to charm their way into her pants?

The silence stretched and she knew that the longer she let it, the more inevitable this was. Any second now, he might make the kind of move she couldn't brush off as incidental and she'd have no time to...

Her eyes narrowed as she lowered the crossbow. What the hell was she thinking? She had time. She had as much time as she wanted. And she chose to take that time. "I don't know, Oliver. I might have had enough fun for tonight." She placed it on the table and picked up what was left of her drink. She gulped it down, hiding her slight gasp as she moved around the table to the couch. "Thanks for the lesson. It was very sweet of you." She toed her shoes into an upright position.

"Well... we don't have to shoot. We..." He chuckled and moved just a little closer. "I think we can find other things to do."

She smiled to herself at his change in tone. She moved closer, too, glad she wasn't barefoot. She needed the height right now. "There's only one thing I want to do."

He gave her a slow smile. She'd seen it before, buttering up nurses, female cops, even male ones. It was a deal-closer. "And what's that?"

"Go to bed."

His eyelids lowered just a little. "I think I can help with that."

"Oh, don't worry," she said brightly. "I don't need a ride. I only had one drink." She snatched up her coat and patted his arm, resisted the urge to squeeze. He really had nice... "Anyway, you had more than me," she said, moving away before she blew it. "You should crash here. Couch folds out. And there's OJ in the fridge if you..."

"Chloe?"

She turned at the doors. "Yeah?"

He was still staring at the spot she left. "I..." His head turned to her. "I'm wondering if we got our signals crossed here... uh..."

She smiled. "You must be as tired as I am." She nodded to her right. "Blankets in the closet." She managed to get on the other side of the doors before she leaned against them, gulping in air, fanning her face. The glass was cool on the outside and... glass! She quickly moved away from the doors, nearly stumbling to the elevator. Between the liquor and the last ten minutes, her skin was burning and her heart was beating in places she'd forgot existed.

She leaned against the doors and pushed the down button, hoping the elevator came before she could go back in there and just... climb him. She had leave it for now, go home, go to sleep. She laughed at the idea that she'd be getting any sleep tonight. But it didn't matter. She'd had sleepless nights over worse things. Besides, this was worth it.

Because Chloe Sullivan had never been seduced. So she was going to enjoy every second.

PART TWO