babydee1 | Chlollie Fanfic: Misdirection, Chapter 6

I haven't forgotten you guys! I've just been a wee bit busy is all.

Here's the next chapter of Misdirection. Another thing that took me some time was reviewing the episode and getting the dialogue right so that I'd know where to slot in what and know how to wank it. It's shaping up pretty nicely, even if I do say so myself.

So here you go. Hope you like it! And I'll try not to be so tardy with the next update. :-)

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kc_2009. You're a star, Claudia!

Title: Misdirection

Author: BabyDee
Pairing: Chlollie

Rating: R (PG-13 this chapter)

Warnings: None

Timeline: Season 7 (Siren) with references to Season 6’s Justice

Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CW & DC comics.

Summary: Sparks begin to fly between our high-achieving couple. Sequel to Trajectory.

Feedback: Oh yez. :-)

Read previous chapter here.

Read story from the beginning here.

Chapter 6

Oliver Queen stood with braced arms against the tiled wall of his shower, completely immobile beneath the jets of freezing water that sluiced over his skin.

Close. So close. And then that damned cellphone…

He should have known. One call from Clark, and she’d taken off. It was the one area of her life where Chloe Sullivan was pathetically predictable.

He swore and closed his eyes, remembering the feel of her lips against his, the softness of her breast in his palm; the urgency of her movements against his body; the way she came apart in his arms, his name on her lips like a silent plea…

Oliver smiled ruefully as his body hardened, completely oblivious to the cold water crashing down upon him. He sighed and shut off the faucet; no point depleting the environment of precious resources when the desired effect was far from happening. And he was green by nature, after all.

He stepped out of the shower and reached for a fern-coloured towel, deep in thought. As he dried himself off, he pondered how to get Chloe to accept what was happening between them and get her to mentally detach herself from Clark’s hip. After tonight, she couldn’t deny that she had feelings for him, and even if it was just a physical thing…

He sighed. Well, greater relationships had been built on less. And there was already mutual respect between them, and he genuinely enjoyed her company. It wouldn’t take much for them to fall in love with each other –

Whoa.

His heart thumped wildly and his hand stilled, just realising the direction his thoughts had headed in. Is that what was happening here – love?

For the first time, he realised just how deeply the intrepid young reporter had gotten under his skin. He very much hoped he’d made enough of an impression on her to get her thinking about him, and not just about his body. He knew she wasn’t after his money; nor was she the type of girl to go for a quick fling, and she certainly had no interest in becoming just another notch on his bedpost. She was either in it for the long haul, or it wasn’t happening.

But something had already happened, something she couldn’t just sweep under the carpet. He wasn’t one hundred percent certain, but it appeared as if the only person she’d ever been with was Olsen, and he didn’t believe they were all that compatible sexually.

Which left the ever-present issue of Clark.

Oliver sighed and ran a hand through his damp hair. Without doubt, Chloe loved Clark fiercely, whether she admitted it or not; whether it was reciprocated or not. It was just one of those things, and he knew he had an uphill task trying to sway her deepest affections in his direction. Physical attraction from her was one thing; heartfelt emotion was another.

And Oliver Queen was selfish enough to want both.

He stepped out of the bathroom and headed for his bed, climbing between the sheets stark naked. Tomorrow he’d sort it out. He’d be ready for her when she swung by after work.

His loins stirred and he buried his face in the pillow and stifled a groan. From the look of things, he was ready for her right now.

He just had to survive till tomorrow.

***

Chloe was sipping coffee quietly at her desk, deep in thought, when a UPS courier suddenly appeared in front of her.

“You Chloe Sullivan?” he asked disinterestedly. She nodded, curious. She certainly wasn’t expecting any packages…

He unearthed a parcel and set it down on her desk. “Sign here, please.”

She scrawled her signature on the indicated spot and picked up the sizeable packet. “Who’s it from?” she asked his retreating back.

He shrugged. “All I do is deliver, ma’am.”

A frown creased her brow as she tore off the brown wrapping to reveal mint green crepe paper concealing a soft package.

Oliver.

A smile tilted the corner of her mouth as she realised that with that colour paper, the package couldn’t have come from anyone else. Carefully she lifted the crepe paper to reveal a soft leather tote bag in forest green designed by none other than Chloé, as evidenced by the signature brass horseshoe embedded in the front. This particular bag even had a silver horse charm attached, which gave it an added aura of elegance.

Warmth filled her as she marvelled at yet another gift from Ollie. She couldn’t resist running her hand over the fabric, which was deceptively soft for leather. As she reached into the bag, her hands encountered both silky fabric and a small card, which she unearthed and lifted to her eye-level.

I seem to have developed a fondness for Chloe in green, it read in his signature scrawl. Looking forward to seeing you when you come. Come over, that is. Honest.☺

Affectionately,

A blush heated her cheeks at the memory his words invoked. Not that she’d needed reminding; she’d thought of nothing else all morning long and had barely managed to turn in her articles without any embarrassing typos.

Chloe lifted out the smooth fabric, which turned out to be a leaf-patterned silk scarf in various shades of green. She wrapped it round her neck and slipped her hand through the shoulder straps of the bag, trying them on for size.

“Wow!” said the admiring the voice of her colleague, Simone Franks, who paused to admire the new items. “Splashing out on yourself, Chloe?”

“Hey, Simone,” she greeted with a smile.

Simone nodded at the bag and scarf. “Either you’ve been a good girl and saved up for months for that, or they must be paying you a helluva lot more that they do me.”

Chloe snorted. “I wish. No, I didn’t buy them, Sim. They're a gift.”

Simone’s eyes narrowed as she tilted her head and studied the designer label. “Ah. Well, somebody loves you,” she drawled with a wink and a smile before walking off.

Chloe frowned and immediately keyed in ‘Chloé’ online to get an idea of their prices. Clearly Oliver hadn’t picked it up at a market stall; she estimated that a designer purse like this one must be in the region of about five hundred dollars.

A few moments later, her eyes widened as she saw that her generous estimate was way off the mark. With grim determination she reached for her phone and dialled Oliver’s number.

He answered on the third ring. “Hey,” he greeted. “You were supposed to call me when you got back from the hospital. How are you feeling?”

“Like I just got blindsided by a truck,” she replied dryly.

“I’m so sorry, Chloe. Are you taking the day off? You need to rest up -”

“No, not that kind of…I just got your package,” she finished lamely.

“Well, presumably not my package…” he smirked.

“The handbag, Oliver!” she said hurriedly, her cheeks burning again.

“I thought you might like it,” he said. “It’s totally you, and not just for obvious reasons -”

“I’m afraid I can’t accept it, Ollie,” she cut in.

Silence. Then: “No? And why’s that?” he queried, a decidedly cold edge to his voice.

She sighed. “Oliver, when I joined the League, I didn’t expect to receive any special treatment or be showered with gifts, either because I’m female or for any other reason,” she said.

“Is that what you think this is?” he said dryly. “Special treatment?”

“I don’t see you buying any of the boys random presents,” she said defensively.

“If you recall correctly, Watchtower, your purse was ruined yesterday whilst you were carrying out League duties,” he pointed out stiffly. “As leader of the League, I’m well within my rights to replace it.”

Oops. She’d almost forgotten about that. “Okay, fine. But did you have to replace it with something so pricey?”

She could practically hear the shrug on the other end of the line. “What’s so pricey about it?”

She huffed. “Oliver, that bag costs over sixteen hundred dollars. And the scarf-”

“Did you expect me to walk into K-Mart for a replacement?” he retorted. “Why are you attacking me on this?

“You could have asked me how much the other one cost, and given me the money for it,” she argued.

“Familiarise yourself with League rules, Watchtower,” he said, sounding decidedly pissed off. “Policy #27 specifically states that ‘if a League member suffers loss of any personal item or items whilst on official League business, such item or items are to be replaced by the Leader of the League as he sees fit.’”

Chloe sighed. “I know that, but -”

He gave an exasperated sigh. “Oh, just shut up and take it, will you?” he grumbled, clearly irritated. “I’ve half a mind to stitch up your old purse and toss it through your letterbox.”

Chloe felt contrite. She was sure he’d never had to work so hard to get someone to accept a gift. “I’m sorry, Ollie,” she said softly. “It’s beautiful, and I really do like it. Thank you.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. Then he finally spoke.

“Green brings out the sparkle in your eyes,” he said quietly. “I don’t know if you knew that.”

This time, the silence was from her end of the line. Then she couldn’t help adding “Although I don’t recall ripping my scarf yesterday…”

“Oh for crying out loud…!” he grumbled, making her giggle.

“Okay, okay, I’ll drop it!”

“Thank you,” he said, sounding relieved. She smiled widely, then suddenly realised the line had gone quiet again.

“So, do you have any leads on the bird who flew off the roof yesterday?” she asked, trying to put the conversation on a more businesslike footing.

“I’ve gone through my repertoire of wannabe heroes and villains, but this one’s noticeably absent,” he said. “Victor’s working on a mock-up based on your description, which he’ll email to you as soon as he’s done.”

“I’ll be waiting for it,” she said. “In the meantime, I’ll check MPD’s database of recently released female felons and see if any of their faces strike a chord.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it. And Chloe?”

“Yeah?”

He paused. “Can I still expect you later this evening?” he asked quietly.

Her heart beat faster in her chest and her fingers curled around the handset in anticipation. “I’ll be there, Ollie.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting.”

She smiled. “I’ll see you later. Bye.”

“Bye.”

***

Chapter 7…

PS: For those of you curious about Chloe's 'Chloe' bag: