Action Time (Chapter Nine)

CHAPTER NINE

She giggled and leaned into him and whispered. "Just for that, you don't get any sex tonight."

His face seemed to lose all color. "Chloe..."

"Okay. Fine. But only a little bit."

His face seemed to color up, then, bright red. He gave a short bark of a laugh and then turned away from her. "Uh... Heh..."

She turned her face, too, then saw all the other faces. "Why are they looking at me?"

"That wasn't the quietest whisper," she heard him say.

She pushed away from him quickly, wondering what color her face was.

Victor moved in front of the rest. "Okay. I don't eat much these days, so I don't know what's good. But I got some big sandwich, a little pasta, some chips and..." He looked at Chloe and Oliver. "What?" He looked at the rest of them. "What?"

AC spoke first, his eyes still on Chloe. "So you and Oliver..."

"Oh, good." Victor rolled his eyes and turned back to them. "So you guys are finally admitting it. About time."

"Admitting what?"

"That they're together."

"We're not together, together," Oliver tried awkwardly. "We're just... kind of... together."

"Well, yeah. but you're admitting it, so good." Victor said with a shrug.

Bart turned his glaring eyes from them to Victor. "You knew?"

"Come on. I'm sure we all kind of..."

"I certainly had no idea," John said loudly.

"Sh*t," Victor hissed. "Did I just spill the..."

"Nope," Chloe said abruptly. "Rewind. This just isn't... Hey, you guys?" She gestured at the twins. "Why don't you get some music on, like, two minutes ago?"

Zan pointed at Jayna. "Well, she wouldn't let me pick..."

Chloe jerked forward and swallowed hard. "Oh, God..."

"I know that look." Dinah rushed forward and squeezed her in. "Sorry, guys. Girl talk." Chloe found herself rushed toward the swinging door at the far end of the room. She briefly heard the chatter and clanging of the restaurant beyond before the bathroom door swung open.

"I knew it," Chloe moaned. "My birthday is evil and everything always goes wrong."

"Of course not," Dinah said calmly. "Nothing's gone wrong... unless... are you going to throw up?"

"I don't know."

"Best be safe." Dinah led her to a stall.

"Can I come in?"

Chloe leaned heavily against the stall door as Dinah rushed to the bathroom door. "Jayna, we really need some girl time."

"But I'm a..."

"Woman time, then."

"So totally unfair," Chloe heard, fading away as she moved to the sink and leaned against it.

Dinah moved back to her. "Don't you need to..."

"No," Chloe cut in. "That would be a terribly humilating topper to this birthday and I refuse to do it. So... not happening." She leaned against the wall, then gave in and sank to the floor. "Stupid birthdays."

"Come on. It wasn't so bad. I mean, that last part was kind of a shocker, but food, drinks, Bart didn't get to roast you. I'd say that's a good birthday."

"Except for how everyone of you knows everything about me now."

"It's only gossip." Dinah pulled out a paper towell and turned on the faucet, dipping it under the spray. "You gotta expect a little gossip when you're the boss."

"I'm not the boss," Chloe groaned as Dinah leaned down and dabbed at her forehead. "Oliver's the one who pays for everything. I'm just..."

"Trust me. You're the boss. Hell, none of us make a move without checking in with you, Oliver included. We might whine together a bit about you riding us and gossip might just come with that, but it doesn't mean we don't respect you. We'd never do anything to..." Dinah drew back slightly, her face paling. "You know, speaking of Oliver, how long have you two been... I mean..."

Chloe caught her slightly guilty expression and knew why. "Little over two weeks," she said.

Dinah let out a breath. "Oh, good." She stiffened as she tossed the paper towel away. "I mean... You know, it's just good you two are..."

"If you're worried about the emails, don't be. I'm not mad or even..."

"You know about those?"

"It's kind of my job to know... I mean, up to a point."

Dinah tilted her head. "And us knowing your business is such a problem?"

"I didn't read them. I just know they exist. How can I not with Oliver's loud protests that they were strictly platonic?"

"But they were. I mean, there was nothing. Just flirting. Not even really flirting. Just text banter here and there and... Well, you know Oliver. It's just for fun. He tends to flirt with anything that moves..." Her face paled again. "But not lately. I mean, now that he's with you..."

"He's not with me." Chloe cut in. "And Oliver's flirting sickness is not something I don't know. Believe me." But it was good to be reminded. "We're not in a relationship."

"But you two are..."

"Having fun and not bothering with definitions," she said, pulling herself up by the sink. She still felt a bit woozy, but her mind was clearer, maybe even relaxed. "Or rules anymore. Or silly worries about where this goes. Because, you see, then it's not fun. And, for once, I want to have fun."

"Well, bravo. I mean, we all agree you need more fun."

"Oh, Jeez," she leaned her head against the mirror. "Now you're all deciding what I need? Bad enough when it was just Clark." She pushed away and shook her head. "But let's not open that up. Anyway, Oliver and me... we're good. No expectations, no rules, no privacy, apparently."

Dinah touched her arm and met her eyes in the mirror. "I think we all agree, me specifically, that we only want you to have the kind of fun where you don't get hurt. And Oliver... Just be careful. I know guys can be very convincing about the whole NSA thing, but we women often have strings attached, whether we want them or not."

She wondered what Dinah would say if she told her that the lack of strings and definitions were mostly her doing. "Maybe it's the other way around." Not that she could say it outright. She didn't want them any further in her business tonight. Also, it wasn't true. Even drunk, or especially drunk, she knew that. When people had been through what they had together, it was never just sex. Maybe that was why not defining it was such a necessity for her. Because, if she had to define it, it might be more... "Maybe i'm just using him for sex," she finished, trying for a smile.

Dinah bumped her arm, laughing lowly. "I kind of like you." She then pulled at it. "Come on. Let's get some food to join that booze. From what I hear, your main food groups are coffee and creamer."

"Everyone knows my business," she sighed, letting Dinah pull her out.

Zan rushed up as they moved into the back room. "Did you puke?"

"No, but there's still time," she said, holding onto Dinah.

"Give the girl some space," Dinah shouted. "We all know she's had a rough year."

"Know too well," Chloe muttered, staring at the floor.

AC approached cautiously. "We've all talked it over..."

"Never mind that I was still in the room." She glanced at Oliver, who looked kind of peeved.

"And we've decided this is fine," AC finished.

"Provided nobody gets special treatment," Victor put in.

Chloe looked around. "I wouldn't..."

"Yeah, no giving Oliver the easiest assignments," AC added.

"Or the coolest ones," Zan cut in.

John stepped forward. "No pet names over the headsets when we're on a group mission."

Chloe groaned. "Now that's just..."

Victor put a hand up. "Definitely no making out in front of us."

"Do not make us choose sides in an argument," Emil called from the back of the room.

"Definitely," Dinah agreed, winking at him. "I mean, there's going to be a million when you're planning the wedding..."

Chloe's eyes shot to Oliver, who had the good sense to go pale. "We aren't even..."

AC shushed her. "And whatever happens, I am not babysitting. You can call me Uncle Arthur all you want, but that doesn't mean..."

"I call bridesmaid!" Jayna shouted.

"Darn it," Dinah said with a smirk, turning to Chloe. "I meant to do that. Can you at least shoot me the bouquet at the reception?"

Chloe rolled her eyes, finally catching on. "Yes. You're all hilarious."

"Side-splitting," Oliver agreed. He nodded at Chloe. "Thanks for leaving me out here with them, by the way."

She had to laugh, thinking Bart must have given him the worst time ev... She glanced around. "Where's Bart?" She'd thought he'd have been front and center for this.

AC nodded behind him. "He's nursing the rest of the big sandwich."

Chloe moved through them as they all broke away, laughing and talking. Bart was sitting in the corner, with way more sandwich left than there should be. She stopped near Oliver. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know. He just slumped off and... he hasn't said a word since you left, actually."

"He always acted like he had a crush on me, but I thought that was just... this little gag. I didn't think he really..." It was a sobering kind of thought.

"No. Me neither. I mean, he never said anything when you were getting married, joke here and there, but... He didn't actually show up. I mean, he was in Alaska, but that shouldn't stop him."

Chloe shook her head. "I never thought he'd actually be... hurt by this."

"I'll talk to him."

She put a hand on his arm. "No, let me. I've been laughing this crush off for years and I owe it to him to tell him he's not just some joke to me," she glanced at Ollie, "even if I don't feel the same way." He nodded and she took a deep breath, trying to get her thoughts in order. The alcohol didn't make it easier. She perched on a chair next to him. "Hey," she said, then tried to think of something to follow it with. "Good Sandwich?"

He shrugged. "Could be better. I requested a potato chip layer and they gave me chips on the side." He shook his head. "I just never get what I want."

She felt strangely like crying at his forlorn tone. "Bart, I know that you, that all of you, might feel a little shocked at the change. And I'm sorry if we hid this from... all of you. But we're just... we're still figuring out what this means. But we really care what y... what all of you think."

He glanced sideways at her. "I'm sure Victor will be relieved to know that."

"I'm not saying this right," she moaned.

"Well, you are pretty sloshed." He sighed. "Chloe, don't worry about me."

"But I do," she insisted. "I worry about you and I care about you and I don't want you to think I hide things from you."

"You're kind of repeating yourself, there, Chloe."

"Bart." She leaned in, "Bart, I just want you to know that I respect you and you're not some funny guy that I never take seriously and, you know, things end up the way they do and people... um... do things and it's not like anyone thought it would make anyone else feel hurt or..."

"You really are drunk, but I get it. Chloe, I'm fine." He sighed again. "And hey. I'm glad you're looseninig up a bit tonight. I bet you need it. I had a lot of jokes about that in my roast, but... Well..." He sighed again, a real long one. "I guess no one's in the mood for my jokes."

Chole grasped his knee. "Yes, we are. Sure, we are."

He looked down. "No. Victor said no and so did Oliver, so...."

"Well, it's not their birthday, is it? I've been looking forward to your roast all night," she said, not adding with a mild sense of dread. But if it made him happy...

He gave her a small smile. "Yeah?"

"You should get up and... just do it."

"Well, I can't if you don't take your hand of my knee. Hey, Queen!"

Oliver turned away from Emil.

"Your girlfriend won't stop groping me, here. Better keep an eye on her." He winked at Chloe. "I'm particularly attractive to drunk chicks." He stood up with a grin and her hand fell away. "I'm kidding. You're the best." He dropped a kiss on her head and appeared behind the table. "Attention, everyone! Now that our beloved birthday vixen has given me the go-ahead, I'd like to treat you all to the plethora of knowledge I have gathered about our own Chloe Sullivan."

Oliver sidled up next to her. "Well, he sure cheered up quick. What did you say?"

"I hardly remember. Bur once I said he could do his..." Chloe shook her head. "Okay. Did I just get played?"

"If you're implying that Bart Allen would make you feel guilty just to get his way..."

Bart cleared his throat and held up his cards. "Now I'm not saying Chloe doesn't get out much. But most of the lock-ups at Belle Reve call her just to make sure she's okay. Right? Am I right?" He grinned and looked up at the silent group. "This thing on?" he said, tapping an imaginary microphone.

"Yes. Yes, he would," Oliver finished with a nod.

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

"It just sucks you guys didn't tell me before the party. I could have killed off you two." Bart hung onto either end of the towel around his neck, panting. "But, you know, I need some time with new material and all. You know how it is. So... how was it?"

"Good." Chloe nodded, still a little dazed. She'd thought the alcohol would wear off through all two hours and thirteen minutes of Bart's roast. She supposed she was lucky it hadn't. "The slide show was very... invasive, but..."

"Yeah? I was going for whimsical. But I had to cut half my love-life jokes, with you two..." He gestured to Oliver. "Don't worry, Boss. I'll save it for your birthday."

"No, you absolutely won't," Oliver said, holding the same smile that had been frozen on his face as he lightly shoved Bart away. "Now get on clean-up."

"What? I was on food."

"Which I paid for and you ate most of."

"You all need to stop being jealous of my metabolism," Bart groaned as he moved away.

Chloe leaned against Oliver, just because she was tired... and he smelled so nice. "You punishing him for torturing me?"

"I think we were all tortured tonight," he said, sliding a hand around her back. "Besides, he'll get it done quicker."

"I can see that," Chloe said, feeling a little queezy at Bart whizzing around the room.

He rubbed her back. "Looking kind of green."

"You would know."

"You wanna get out of here?"

"I can't just go."

"You can do what you want. It's your birthday." He pulled her to the door. "Why don't you wait outside. I'll make your goodbyes."

"Bless you," she moaned as the cold air hit her face. For the last few hours, she'd thought she'd never see outside again. She moved, slightly unsteadily to the opposite wall, reminding herself to drink anything Emil mixed again. It packed a long-lasting punch. She shoved an empty bucket off a milk crate and maneuvered her way onto it, humming to herself as a breeze moved down the alley. It brought the slight stench of garbage, but mostly cool air.

The door creaked open and Oliver appeared, holding her jacket. She batted him away as she stood. "I don't want it."

"But you need it," he said firmly, turning her around. "You doing okay?"

"Yep." She turned to him as he pulled her front and zipped her up.

"So... still a little drunk, then?"

"Indeed I am, Sir."

He chuckled and pulled her to his side, moving them out to the street. "I've never seen you drunk, Sullivan."

"Me neither."

"I've seen you drink, but never actually drunk. It's kind of cute, though."

"I'm not allowed," she said, sort of sighed, leaning into his shoulder. "I mean, what would people do if I was drunk?"

"Take you to a Denny's for a 'Moons Over my Hammie' and some coffee?"

"That sounds sooo good," she groaned. "Is that the one with the bread that's grilled in butter? No... NO." She shoved a hand into his chest, then moved in front of him. "Oliver, you need to promise that I can't be drunk anymore."

"Wow. That made sense."

"What I mean is that you need to promise you won't let me..."

"I get it. But I can't promise it. Why shouldn't you let go like everyone else?"

"Because I just can't. I mean, you guys all can have that little party after the bad stuff's gone down. And that's fine. You and Bart and Dinah and Victor... Well, not Victor unless Emil invents robot alcohol. The kids are too young and I guess not Clark, either, though I guess he wouldn't be showing up at any parties. Maybe if I'm not there. I don't know." She shook her head. "The point is that people can let loose. But only if I'm there. I have to be the one that's thinking of all that... just in case stuff." She sagged against him. "That's why the camera's and the tracking and the... God, sometime's it all just makes me so tired." She stood straighter and grasped his arms. "I mean, right now, there could be this world ending catastrophe and all I can think of is that you smell so good and your arms feel so..." She leaned up to him and met his lips.

He brushed his own over hers. "Chloe..." He took her by the shoulders. "Maybe you can let someone else be the worrier once in a while. Maybe even me."

"You?" She scoffed. "You never worry."

"I don't?"

"You just zoom in on a zipline and say some cool catchphrase and... off you go."

"That's me, then?"

"That's all you guys. You save the day and me... I'm just a voice in your ears you can hang up on. But I don't get to hang up. I just have to think of what's next. Alone." Her words caught in her throat just a little. "I didn't used to have to do it alone. I mean, at the end of the day, we could talk about what happened and what to do next, but not now," she said, her eyes stinging.

"Chloe, I'm here and... and feeling kind of stupid right now because this isn't about me. Is it?"

She drew back, shrugged his arms off. "It's not about anything. I should go check in at Watchtower."

"So he didn't show."

"I don't want to talk about him," she said, moving as steadily down the street as she could.

"Did you ever think that maybe he thought you'd have a better time without him there?"

"A real friend wouldn't think that. Not that I care. We're not friends anymore. So what? People get older and they change and I don't care." She angrily swiped at her eyes, trying to keep ahead of him. So she was a weepy drunk. Who knew?

"I'm pretty sure the both of you care a whole damned lot or I wouldn't have to sit through all the tension and the stony silences and... you know what?" He passed her and blocked her path. "I'm kind of sick of it. If you two want to fight, can't you just be honest about it and yell at each other like healthy people."

"Ollie, I'm fine." She stepped around him. "We're... we're coworkers, I guess. It'll be this new phase. And it's fine."

"Passive agressively fine," he muttered, moving with her.

"Then I'm on my way to fine," she snapped, walking faster. "Anyway, nobody wants us to be close like that again. It's confusing. I mean with the I need you and the stupid chats with the gazing and the kissing and..."

"The what?" He stopped.

So did she. "I've been drinking. I'm not saying things right."

"So when you say kissing you mean firm handshaking?"

"Well, I mean kissing. But it was only a couple times."

He stared at her closely. "What's a couple?"

Watchtower was just ahead. She moved to it rapidly, the cold air and hot embarrassment colliding with each other and sobering her up a little. "Only like five times... and a half."

"And you never told me this?" he said from behind her, but getting closer.

"Well, it didn't count. But it was mostly me kissing him, anyway. I mean, he started it one time," she babbled, rushing on, "but I was hardly there for that. He only told me about it later, kind of a red K recap, which means he wasn't even himself, so that didn't count. And I was under controlling influences twice, so those didn't count. Plus another time I only kissed him to hide us doing medical subterfuge, so that didn't count. So there. It never counted."

"That still leaves one that did count."

She groaned and turned at the base of the steps. "Why do you need to know, anyway? Have I asked you to catalogue everything you and Lois ever..."

"But that's different. I know how I feel about Lois and you still have no idea how you feel about Clark."

She moved up a step. It was easier to think when she took a little off his height advantage. "I know how I don't feel and it's not like that. Not anymore. So why are we even fighting about this?"

"I don't know," he said petulantly. "I have this idea of you and Clark where you just had this crush and now I find out there was kissing."

"Kissing that hardly counted," she pointed out, thinking pouting worked for him, the times she'd seen it this week. It made her want to bite his lower lip. So she did. It didn't take much effort with him nearly at eye level.

He was slightly stiff at first, but it only took a few nibbles before his mouth opened, lips clinging to her top lip before his arms slid around her waist and pulled her in. He brushed his lips overs hers once... twice... before he pulled away. "So does that count?"

She swatted at his chest and groaned. "Oliver..."

"Well, you've been drinking."

"Well, that's not mind control and I specifically told you that two of those other, not counted kisses, were under a form of mind control and a few drinks is nothing like..."

He grasped her neck and pulled her in again, his tongue delving lightly between her lips until she moaned and looped her arms around his neck. He drew away, resting his forehead against hers. "So it counts?"

"It counts for double... triple even," she finished, slightly shaky. Something about being kissed by Oliver always shook her up. She hoped it never stopped. "Come on." She slid a hand down his arm and grasped his hand, moving up a step and tugging him after.

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