Action Time (Chapter Eleven)

And here we are! I will tell you that this story will get a lot more attention. It's now my life's mission to finish it ASAP as I signed up for a charity auction piece.

Picking up from the last chapter with some productive pillow talk, spoiling Checkmate after.

Chapter Eleven

Elevator sex was kind of a thrill, but there was something to be said for straight-up bed sex. You could lie in naked languor afterwards. There wasn't much languor in the elevator. They'd had to scramble to finish dressing when, against all odds, a slightly drunk guy called the elevator from the lobby. She'd reactivated everything frantically, closed the Watchtower panel, then searched in blind panic for her panties when she realized they were bunched around her torso. Oliver must have given them a rip and she hadn't even noticed. She'd have lit into him for that if she didn't have three of his shirt buttons stuffed in her pocket. Also, she was too busy trying not to laugh as they huddled at the back and tried to look nonchalant about staying on the elevator when it reached the lobby, usually a getting-off point.

Oliver didn't help, making innuendo-laden small talk. The man was too drunk to get it, but Chloe choked on stifled giggles. She let them out when he got off on the ninth floor, slapping at Oliver. "Why did you torture me?"

He grinned and grabbed her hands. "Because you're cute when you turn purple."

They laughed all the way up to the Watchtower, wrestled a little as she attempted to get in at least one quality slap, then they'd wrestled some more until things got horizontal and the laughing stopped.

She reached her hands to the back of the couch, bracing her feet against the pull-out mattress and giving herself a nice stretch. Her back and neck cracked just a little and she waited for another one. There was nothing, though, just a pleasantly drowsy sort of ache all over. It wasn't the alcohol, not by now. It was something she noticed lately. It used to be that she'd stretch and a small series of crackles and pops would sound out from every joint. Not so much now. Maybe that was what going with the flow did for a girl... at least with Oliver.

She pulled the covers up and ogled Oliver just a little as he moved very nakedly back to the couch with a bottle of water. He didn't sit down, just stood there, taking a long gulp before he held it out to her. "Want some?"

"Thanks." She took it and sipped, wondering why he was still standing. "Aren't you staying?"

He shrugged. "Depends."

"On what?"

"On if you still want me to after we talk."

"Talk?" She groaned. "I really just want to go to sleep."

"This won't take long."

"But I'm tired," she said, trying to dredge up a lazy smile. She knew what he wanted to talk about. She'd thought their little bout in the elevator would fix this, but he still had that mildly sulky look about him. "I mean, it's my birthday, Oliver."

He chuckled and nodded to the clock.. "Not anymore, so..." His eyes widened. "I almost forgot." He scampered toward her console, which was kind of a funny sight in the nude. He pulled a gigantic, shiny, silver bag from behind her desk.

She sat up. "I thought the party was my present."

"Considering how much you bellyached about no party, I figured I'd need a kickass present to make up for forcing it on you." He dropped it on the bed.

"Well, I liked the party. And no one was attacked by a sea monster, so you don't have to..."

"Shut up and open it," he said, sounding slightly giddy as he pulled his boxers on.

"Fine," she said, though she felt a little giddy herself as she grabbed the bag. It was huge. Getting a huge present was always a bit of a thrill. She dug in, noting that there were three boxes in all the tissue. She grabbed at the smaller one on top and it spilled out on the bed. 

"A...usb coaster," she read out loud. "What the..."

"It's no ordinary coaster. See, you plug it into your usb port. It keeps hot beverages hot and cold ones cold and... you know... it's for your coffee. Speaking of that..." He dug into the bag, tearing it down one side.

She laughed. "I'm supposed to open it."

He pulled back. "Fine. But it isn't every day a guy finds the perfect gift. Take it out, take it out..."

"Okay. Calm down." She tumbled the box onto the bed. "Kuerig," she read. "A coffee maker? But I have a..." 

"It's not a coffee maker. It's a state of the art, single cup coffee maker."

She shook her head and smiled. "This is such a guy thing. You have to buy some crazy gadget when I have a perfectly good..."

"This thing?" He got up and moved to the small kitchenette and pointed accusingly at her dependable drip. "Makes the worst coffee. It's either too weak because all the water leaks out or too strong because the pump won't suck it up. And it's at least ten years old."

More like fifteen. It had been in her old house. She'd made her first cup of coffee with it. "It's vintage."

"The carafe is cracked."

"Only a little. Plus, the crack makes a nice, tinkly popping sound when it gets hot enough so I know to turn it off."

"You never turn it off. You drink two thirds, then you leave the rest to crust in the pot so this place always smells like burnt coffee."

"It's my... signature smell," she said, knowing it sounded stupid. But, darn it! How could she be expected to just use some new coffee maker out of the blue. "I could just leave this one on, too."

"Ah, but you can't. It only makes one cup. See, you leave it filled with water and you pop these little cups in and put your mug underneath and it makes your coffee."

"But just one cup," she said tensely, still resisting the change. "See, when my cup gets cold, I top it off with the rest in the pot and..."

"And your USB compatible warmer will keep your coffee hot," he finished.

That did sound convenient. But he looked too smug. "So I have to fill it with one cup's worth of grounds every time I..."

"Nope." He upended the bag and last box tumbled out amid the tissue. "Tiny, perfect cups filled with a variety of tiny, perfect coffees."

She eyed the box. "100 K-cups... Well, that won't last me a..."

"Month? I know. There'll be a new box here every two weeks for at least a year. Perfect gift!" he finished triumphantly, kneeling up on the bed. "I win!"

She opened her mouth, trying to think of a reason he didn't win. But he kind of did. "You win," she conceded.

"Well, don't sound so miserable about it. Don't you like it?"

"I do like it. I love it. Come her." She pulled him down and brushed his lips. "Thank you."

"Winning is all the thanks I need," he said against her lips, moving fully onto bed and pushing all the boxes to the floor before pulling her to his side.

She leaned on his shoulder. "Poor Leonard's going to feel so left out," she sighed.

He snorted. "Only you would name your coffee maker."

She poked his ribs. "I mean Leonard who runs the coffee cart. I usually get it from him. My machine makes horrible coffee."

"She admits it," he said with a chuckle, settling in. "Wait... we need to talk."

She frowned, hoping this gift had derailed the talking. "Aren't we too tired to talk?"

"A little, but..." He pulled the covers over both of them and turned to her. "Listen... We both know that this isn't some serious thing. But it also know it isn't... not that."

She sat up quickly. "Well, yeah. I'm not excluding the possibility. But I thought we agreed that we weren't worrying about the..."

"Well, this is something worth worrying about, so let me finish before you start twitching." He lightly gripped her arm. "Just tell me honestly. What if this became... something? Is Clark something that's going to hang over my head?"

"I told you he never saw me that way and I moved on and..."

"And what if he suddenly did?"

"But he wouldn't..."

"Humor me, Chloe," he said, his hand cupping her shoulder. "Would it change everything?"

She stared at him. He was silent and serious, waiting for some definitive answer that she couldn't give because it wasn't so easy to sum up. "No," she tried, going for the short version.

"And I can just... believe that?"

She threw herself back to the couch bed. "Are you basing this sudden paranoia off you now knowing we kissed a couple times about a million years ago?"

"I'm basing this off the many times you've given up everything to keep Clark safe." He laid down as well. "And you can't tell me that was just about the good of the world." He turned to her. "You loved him."

"Of course I did," she burst out. "But that didn't mean I... loved him." She shook her head, knowing it didn't make sense. "I don't know how to expain it. It wasn't like I was moping after him, hoping my years of service would make him suddenly turn to me and see..." She took a deep breath. "That's not right either. Loving Clark..." She took another deep breath and wondered that she had to think to take it. Usually, a person could just breathe without thinking it through. "Loving Clark was like breathing," she said softly. "I knew it was something I did, but it was hardly conscious. There it was. I could go about my day, work, save the world, date even. And loving Clark was underneath it all. And I think, for years, even under everything, I wondered what we could have been if.... God, if a million things had been different. Every time he saved me or I saved him or we hugged, I wondered for a split second... But that was the as far as it went. You don't know what it's like for those of us on the edge of your world. It's hard to be so near someone who can do such amazing things and not feel swept up in them."

"So it was hero worship?"

"That's only one side of it. The rest was just... Clark. There was something almost naive about him, something earnest and sweet. It was hard to let go of that guy and let go of the wondering, but I finally had to."

"Because he didn't feel the same way."

"No. Because I didn't feel the same way around him. After Jimmy died and he walked out. It was just... gone. I still believed in him, believed he could do great things, but that sweet farm boy was gone and all those feelings went with him and... I didn't know how to exist without feeling that way. I didn't know how to be around him. Luckily, he wasn't around me, so I didn't have to worry about that. Then he came back and I still had no idea who he was to me or me to him. He... I don't know. He changed. We changed. Us being together stopped being friendly. it was all world-ending, disaster-averting support. It was like we couldn't just talk anymore like we used to. I wasn't his friend Chloe who happened to help save the world. I was his... secretary almost. It was everything I didn't want to be. Even before I knew his secret, I'd be... technical support. Look up this, research that and... I don't know. One day I looked up and everything I feared was true, Everything that made us friends was gone. It felt like a nasty break-up, almost. I don't know how you break up when you never dated, but it felt that way. It was hard to be near him. It... it's hard to be near him still."

"That much is obvious. Can't you two just talk like normal people?"

"I don't know if we can. It's hard to go back to that after you've stopped... connecting. So I let it go. I just stopped trying. It was easy. I mean, he'd stopped trying so why shouldn't I..." She took a deep breath. "Maybe that's not fair. It wasn't just him. It was me, too. After a while, being around him felt... stifling. As if I was nothing but some kind of leg to stand on and if I ever moved, he'd fall. I had to move away from that. I couldn't be that, It felt like I was drowning at first. I didn't know who I was if I wasn't Clark's girl friday. But then I thought I should just do the job. Be the job. Become no one. Not just to him. To everyone. Just an eye in the sky. A faceless presence. It felt easier. I don't think I even knew I was miserable." She gave a hollow laugh, then turned to him. "And then... there you were. Just like me. Floundering in your own way."

"In my own, drunken, self-destructive way." He let out a sigh and leaned up on his elbow. "Though, I have to say, I feel marginally less miserable."

"Just a little, huh?"

He smiled just a little and ran a finger up and down her arm. "A fraction less."

"As much as this job was taking over, it kind of helped me, too."

"So it wasn't all due to my famous sexual prowess?"

She slapped him away. "I'm serious. Working with all of you, organizing this team, showed me a bigger world. I think somewhere along the way, I realized that Clark... even with what he can do... he's not everything. And that I'm more than what I can do to help him. I think you get it. This isn't an easy life for a human. Sometimes I think the rest of them don't get that. As far as being normal and living normal lives, they don't have the option. We do, but we just... can't. Not with the things we've seen." 

He gave a low chuckle. "This has taken kind of a philisophical turn, so before we start comtemplating our mortality with the rising dawn and all that, just tell me." His eyes grew serious. "Do you still wonder? Still want him?"

"No," she said, surprised that she could say it and mean it. "With how things ended up with Clark... I felt nothing but trapped in the end. But with..." She stopped herself. "Now I feel free."

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "You mean with me?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you almost did."

"Well, I just feel free in general and you're... part of that."

"You're blushing."

A hand flew to her cheek. "I am not."

"You are. All red and blotchy."

"Shut up. You're... blotchy," she finished lamely.

"Seriously, Chloe, you're getting a little clingy. I know I saved you from abject misery and all..." 

"You are so obnoxious." She started to sit up and he flattened himself on her lap.

"So what is it about me that makes you want to burst into a chorus of 'Born Free'? Is it my rock hard body or my keen intellect or..."

"Your horrible conceit?" She pushed him off.

"Nah! You're nuts about me."

"I'm going to sleep."

"So you can dream about me?" She jabbed her elbow backward as hard as she could. "Oof! That actually hurt," he wheezed.

"Oh, no. Not your rock hard body," she said, all high-pitched breathlessness. "Keep it up, Ollie. You can go back to Luthorcorp and your precious couch."

He chuckled and pulled her against his chest. "You don't mean that."

"At least you wouldn't be steamrolling all over me." Still, she settled back against him.

"Hey, I've been getting better."

"Prove it. Go to sleep and we'll see if I'm still on the bed in the morning."

"One of these days I'm going to get some cameras trained right here," he said on a yawn, "and prove that you land on the floor all by yourself."

"Fine. You do that. Now shut up and let me sleep." He just breathed into her neck and she wondered if he'd actually fallen asleep... for a second.

"Hey, Chloe?"

She just grunted.

"When you dream about me, try to leave out the running in fields of wildflowers and sh*t," he whispered. "Messes with my masculinity."

"I will photoshop pictures of you wearing a tutu and leak them to every tabloid," she said calmly.

"Sleeping."

********************

She wasn't sure she could move. She felt frozen by now, just staring at the pixel soup on every screen and wondering what she could do to turn it into him, maybe even laughing about the communication glitch. Hell, she'd even take him snipping at her. Maybe she deserved it.

She hadn't been exactly friendly when he was on patrol. She'd been huffy and, at the moment, she didn't even care that it had been all his fault.

He'd been needling her lately, teasing her. It seemed to be his new favorite thing to do. Taking everything she said, every move she made, and using it to accuse her of being crazy about him. And it was really annoying! She didn't know why, but he thought it was just the funniest thing since a monkey with a cigar. So why couldn't she just have laughed it off? For one thing, he might have let up. But, for another, she wouldn't be sitting here wondering if she'd ever see him again and knowing the last thing she said to him was basically "jerkface."

Hadn't she just decided to go with the flow, for real this time? Why did she have to get all prickly just because he teased her? It was just teasing, anyway -- though, sometimes, it didn't feel that way. 

"Get home safe," that was all she'd said after he told her he saw some action below.

"Oh, so it's home now?" She heard the grin in his voice and knew she was in for it.

"I just meant..."

"No. This works for me. I'll come back after a hard day at the office, you greet me with a martini and rub my feet..."

"In your dreams."

"You're so into me."

"You get all this from me saying home?"

"If you had a notebook, you'd be doodling my name in it with little red hearts and green arrows."

"This is not as funny as you think it is," she said with what she thought was the patience of a saint.

"True. It's getting less funny the more you put it off."

"Put what off?" 

"I'll say it if you will."

She'd felt hot and cold at once and like she was about to jump out of her skin. She forced a laugh. "I'll say you're a jerface. How about that?"

She never got to hear what he'd say about that. "Whoa! Got a real chase, here. Hold on." And then... nothing. 

"Did you try the power switch?" she heard behind her.

She hated Clark, at that moment, with every bit of her. She whirled on him. "Didn't you see my texts? I lost Oliver. He was tracking some armed men, followed them under the monorail, and then it was like a massive mute button went on. No radio, no beacon, nothing!"

"I'm sure it's fine. Just because he doesn't check in..."

"You know, unlike some people, Oliver actually follows protocol." Clark seemed to forget that there was a team.

"What protocol?"

"Exactly. He and everyone else dial in with Watchtower while they're on patrol." Maybe she was being too harsh. It's not like Clark's lack of team spirit took Oliver off the grid. But it had been grating on her for far too long. Most things about Clark did these days. "Clark, you spend so much time watching everybody else's back, you forget that we need to watch each other's backs too."

"Well, this isn't about us," he said, giving her just as much attitude back. "Did you check the local security cameras?"

"Every surveillance feed is down. ATMs, traffic lights, convenience stores. It's like someone threw a big blanket over the whole area."

The white noise surrounding them gave a few whines of feedback and the monitors cleared up. She moved around the desk, squinting as the city came back into focus around her. The city, but no Oliver.

"You fixed it."

Sher hadn't. She hadn't touched a thing since he came in. "Or whoever did this finished what they started." She selected the feed on the monorail tracks.

"Where is that?

"That's where I saw Oliver last." She zoomed in on the tracks and the man crouching next to them. "John Jones?"

"Well, your buddy system works."

Chloe decided not to express her annoyance at boiling all the work she did to keep this team safe into the "buddy system." There wasn't time for that. "I didn't call him," she said, turning back slightly. In a split second, Clark was on the screen before her. She glanced behind her, not exactly surprised he was gone, but she'd think he'd at least want to discuss John's mysterious appearance first. Not that she thought John had anythng to do with this. But something was wrong. Oliver wasn't safe. She could feel it.

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CHAPTER TWELVE

Notes: I went nuts trying to find the perfect gift for Ollie to give her. Then I thought about Chloe and coffee and rich guys and gadgets. Between me eyeing those Keurigs avariciously while telling myself my Sunshine Brand drip coffee maker is perfectly adequate and also eyeing the reasonably priced, but seemingly unnecessary mug warmers in various stores, I figured this was the perfect gift.

I'll be finishing Checkmate in the next chapter and hopefully going into Upgrade as well.

Canon tweaks: 

- Considering the show went right back into Chloe's insecurities about relationships two eps after Checkmate, that line (from Checkmate, explored more in the next chapter) about Oliver falling for her seemed strange. I don't think she'd just randomly joke about either of them being in love unless she was teasing him back about something he said. So I added a precursor of him teasing and needling her about being nuts about him. I just thought, considering subsequent episodes, that it was more believable as a private joke at that point. I also gave a little base for the teasing at the end.

- I went into Chlark a little more. I know the outwardly romantic aspect was long gone by season nine, but I really wanted to explore where Chloe's head was leading up to the Chlark estrangement. She dated and married Jimmy, but almost every move she made was all about Clark in season eight. Their relationship in season nine seemed almost more like a bitter, post-break-up couple. They didn't hug once all season when previous years they were so demonstrative. I need to explore that because I can't just put Chlark out to pasture with a few disinterested lines.

- I will be going more into Chimmy. I haven't mentioned it much on purpose because it's going to be part of what leads to Chlollie's "I love you," which is my purpose in this fic, making sense of them getting there without enough onscreen scenes to satisfy me.