Fic: A Tale Of Two Heroes
Title: A Tale Of Two Heroes
Ship: Chloe/Oliver
Summary: Chloe teases Ollie at the rumours taking the internet by storm. Set after Fortune and before Dominion.
***
Oliver watched in some consternation as his wife giggled to herself. She was sat on her favourite sofa, hands wrapped around a large mug of coffee and her laptop balanced on her legs. Legs, which he noticed with approval were bare and propped up on the old antique coffee table, which had been her first purchase for their new home when they moved to Star City a few weeks ago.
She looked utterly content and he would have been delighted with the picture if he didn’t have a sneaky suspicion that what she was reading with such amusement was likely to make him want to sue people. Lots of people.
“Hey,” taking his glasses and voice distorter off and throwing them onto the small table beside the door, he walked over to her, leaning down to brush her lips in a quick kiss.
“You’re late,” she said accusingly when he pulled away and promptly pulled him back for another kiss. A deeper one, fingers skimming the back of his neck, holding him to her.
He was grinning when she finally let him go. He perched himself on the table opposite her, watching as her look of mild reproach melted into bliss as he pulled her feet on to his lap and massaged the heels. With her hair loose, framing her face in soft waves and her face clear of make-up, she looked impossibly lovely. And impossibly young.
“That was quite the welcome home Mrs Queen.”
“Well,” she shrugged matter of factly, “I had to show you what you’ve been missing.”
She set her laptop on the floor and gave him her full attention, bright eyes traveling over him. She was, he could tell, checking him over for signs of injury. She was never as subtle about it as she thought she was.
Her worrying about his patrols had stepped up a notch since she gave up Watchtower duties but between the newspaper and locating new heroes, not to mention, housing and finding safe places for the more vulnerable younger heroes to train, she was too busy to use the Watchtower base of operations in Star City as much she’d hoped.
And Tess and Jonn had Watchtower covered between them. More than covered thanks to the new space station but he knew she still worried. About the team. About him.
He ran his hands up her calves and back down again to distract her from the cut on his upper arm, “believe it or not, criminals don’t keep a tight schedule.”
She pouted, lower lip jutting out, “they’re so inconsiderate.”
He bit back a grin and decided not to remind her that this was the first time in a week she had been home before him. She’d been putting in overtime as she settled into the newspaper and she wouldn’t be Chloe if she didn’t run herself ragged proving herself.
Just as he thought he’d got away with distracting her, her eyes narrowed and he knew he was in trouble, “are you bleeding?”
“It’s just a little cut...I fell awkwardly...”
He was cut off she swung her legs off him and came to kneel beside him, eyes narrowed in concentration as she examined the cut on his bicep. She stroked a finger over it gently and grimaced when it came away bloody. He was reminded of the first time she had administrated first aid to him. Of the beginning of it all.
“I’m going to get the first aid kit and get you cleaned up and then,” she added as she stood up apparently satisfied that he wasn’t going to bleed to death, “I hope you’re hungry because I’ve already ordered Chinese.”
He admired the view as she headed to the bathroom, her large, baggy shirt just skimmed the tops of her thighs and he wondered if she was wearing anything underneath it. He grinned. There would be time to find out later. He flopped into the recently vacated sofa when she she was no longer in his line of vision and closed his eyes.
Between one meeting after another at the office and patrolling the city tonight it had been a long day.
***
Cleaned up and showered he followed the chinking of china and the banging of cupboard drawers to the kitchen. He glanced at the brown paper bag bulging with food and the characters scrawled across it in bright red ink and raised an eyebrow, “when you say you ordered Chinese...”
She grinned at him, “on the Bart Express. He was passing through Bangkok anyway.”
He cringed, “how many times do you have to use the words Bart Express in return for the food?”
“Five,” she delved into the bag and began spooning the food into microwavable plates, “but I figured it’s worth it and I bargained him down from ten and it’s not nearly as offensive as some of the other nicknames he’s been trying out lately.”
He shrugged conceding her point and dropped a light kiss on her nose because she looked remarkably proud of her bargaining skills. The Bart Express, he had to agree, was definitely a step up from some of Bart’s more inventive play on words.
“He didn’t hang around?”
She popped a plate in the microwave and nudged it closed with her elbow, “ to quote him, he had a hot date with an enchilada in Mexico.”
Grabbing a couple of wineglasses and a bottle of white from the fridge, he gave her a look, “I worry about him.”
He was only half joking. Bart had put on an appropriately tragic act of despair at the news that he and Chloe were married and living together and while Oliver was sure it had been an act, he knew the team dynamics had shifted slightly. Just as they had when Tess had been brought into the fold. And then Lois. It would take some getting used to.
Chloe followed him into the living room with napkins and chopsticks and he pulled her into his arms once they’d both offloaded their items onto the table. Wrapping his arms around her tightly, he rested his chin on the top of her head and just breathed her in. She smelled of shower gel and an unidentifiable scent that was all her. He’d wanted to do this all day. To just hold her in his arms. Relax.
She ran a hand underneath his t-shirt playfully. “I was hoping you’d stay in the green leather until it was time for dessert,” she whispered into his chest.
His lips quirked in a smile, “that could be arranged for later.”
She pressed against him and he cocked his head, sliding his hands over hips and holding her there, “or we could skip dinner. I had a muffin for breakfast and skipped lunch but eating is overrated.”
Laughing, she pulled away, “dinner first. You’ll need the stamina.”
“Is that a promise?” he called out as she headed back to kitchen with a sway in her hips that he was sure was partly just to drive him crazy.
“Oh yes!” Her reply floated back on the tail end of a laugh.
She was a tease. His wife was a tease. God, it was a turn on.
***
“So,” he waved his chopsticks in the general direction of her laptop and asked casually, “were you working when I came in?”
It was almost too casual. The studied air of nonchalance to mask the words he’d been wanting to ask as soon as he stepped into the house.
She didn’t meet his eyes, popped a mouthful of noodles into her mouth and chewed slowly before answering, “not exactly.”
He waited out the silence, counted to five in his head and returned the remarkably bright smile she directed in his direction just as he hit the silent five.
“You were forum hopping. Lurking. Whatever it is that you call it.” He couldn’t keep the note of accusation out of his voice.
“Maybe.”
“Chloe...”
“But it’s so funny.”
He spluttered, “there’s a campaign to get me together with the Blur. How is that funny?”
Her face fell, “you already know.”
He eyed her narrowly. She was crestfallen. Actually crestfallen that she wasn’t the first to beak this diabolic piece of news to him.
“Yes, I know. I work with AC and Victor and Bart. How can I not know?”
“And,” he took a gulp of win, “ there’s your cousin.”
He remembered Lois’ text. If anything her delight at the whole situation had been even more exuberant that Chloe’s. There had to be something wrong with the family gene pool. Their sense of humour was obviously warped. Sadistic even.
“Oh, she’s been relegated to ‘my cousin’ now?”
“Yes!”
Her feigned pout dissolved into another smile and he groaned as she set her carton on the table and reached for her laptop.
“No, Chloe, no!”
“The simmering sexual tension between the Green Arrow and the Blur reached new heights when...”
He briefly considered reaching over and turning it off but what would be the point? She was going to read him the most salacious bits of gossip regardless of what he did.
He winched as she read out aloud with all the drama of a stage play.It wouldn't be so bad if their fictional relationship wasn’t portrayed as a soft porn movie and a Shakespearean tragedy all rolled in to one. And why Clark? It would have been more acceptable had it been Victor or AC. Hell, even Dinah.
He pulled a face as she finished her sentence and beamed at him.
“There’s an R rated fanfiction forum too,” she informed him brightly, her food forgotten.
Not happening he decided.
She gasped as he came around the table, plucked the laptop from her hands, set it on the table and then lifted her out of her seat.
She raised an eyebrow as he pinched the skin behind her knees lightly and leaning down bit her lower lip lightly. Her eyes darkened and he was pretty sure all thoughts of teasing him had been forgotten. At least until the next morning.
“Yeah, I’m willing to trade that R rated for this kind of R rated,” she nodded for emphasis and he grinned as he carried her to their bedroom.
“Still want me in the green leather?”
“For round two,” she assured him.
***
Um hi! I'm kinda on LJ again. I don't even know where to begin filling you guys in with RL over the last few months so I thought I'd post fannish first and ease myself back in.
Also missed this place. And everyone!
Ship: Chloe/Oliver
Summary: Chloe teases Ollie at the rumours taking the internet by storm. Set after Fortune and before Dominion.
***
Oliver watched in some consternation as his wife giggled to herself. She was sat on her favourite sofa, hands wrapped around a large mug of coffee and her laptop balanced on her legs. Legs, which he noticed with approval were bare and propped up on the old antique coffee table, which had been her first purchase for their new home when they moved to Star City a few weeks ago.
She looked utterly content and he would have been delighted with the picture if he didn’t have a sneaky suspicion that what she was reading with such amusement was likely to make him want to sue people. Lots of people.
“Hey,” taking his glasses and voice distorter off and throwing them onto the small table beside the door, he walked over to her, leaning down to brush her lips in a quick kiss.
“You’re late,” she said accusingly when he pulled away and promptly pulled him back for another kiss. A deeper one, fingers skimming the back of his neck, holding him to her.
He was grinning when she finally let him go. He perched himself on the table opposite her, watching as her look of mild reproach melted into bliss as he pulled her feet on to his lap and massaged the heels. With her hair loose, framing her face in soft waves and her face clear of make-up, she looked impossibly lovely. And impossibly young.
“That was quite the welcome home Mrs Queen.”
“Well,” she shrugged matter of factly, “I had to show you what you’ve been missing.”
She set her laptop on the floor and gave him her full attention, bright eyes traveling over him. She was, he could tell, checking him over for signs of injury. She was never as subtle about it as she thought she was.
Her worrying about his patrols had stepped up a notch since she gave up Watchtower duties but between the newspaper and locating new heroes, not to mention, housing and finding safe places for the more vulnerable younger heroes to train, she was too busy to use the Watchtower base of operations in Star City as much she’d hoped.
And Tess and Jonn had Watchtower covered between them. More than covered thanks to the new space station but he knew she still worried. About the team. About him.
He ran his hands up her calves and back down again to distract her from the cut on his upper arm, “believe it or not, criminals don’t keep a tight schedule.”
She pouted, lower lip jutting out, “they’re so inconsiderate.”
He bit back a grin and decided not to remind her that this was the first time in a week she had been home before him. She’d been putting in overtime as she settled into the newspaper and she wouldn’t be Chloe if she didn’t run herself ragged proving herself.
Just as he thought he’d got away with distracting her, her eyes narrowed and he knew he was in trouble, “are you bleeding?”
“It’s just a little cut...I fell awkwardly...”
He was cut off she swung her legs off him and came to kneel beside him, eyes narrowed in concentration as she examined the cut on his bicep. She stroked a finger over it gently and grimaced when it came away bloody. He was reminded of the first time she had administrated first aid to him. Of the beginning of it all.
“I’m going to get the first aid kit and get you cleaned up and then,” she added as she stood up apparently satisfied that he wasn’t going to bleed to death, “I hope you’re hungry because I’ve already ordered Chinese.”
He admired the view as she headed to the bathroom, her large, baggy shirt just skimmed the tops of her thighs and he wondered if she was wearing anything underneath it. He grinned. There would be time to find out later. He flopped into the recently vacated sofa when she she was no longer in his line of vision and closed his eyes.
Between one meeting after another at the office and patrolling the city tonight it had been a long day.
***
Cleaned up and showered he followed the chinking of china and the banging of cupboard drawers to the kitchen. He glanced at the brown paper bag bulging with food and the characters scrawled across it in bright red ink and raised an eyebrow, “when you say you ordered Chinese...”
She grinned at him, “on the Bart Express. He was passing through Bangkok anyway.”
He cringed, “how many times do you have to use the words Bart Express in return for the food?”
“Five,” she delved into the bag and began spooning the food into microwavable plates, “but I figured it’s worth it and I bargained him down from ten and it’s not nearly as offensive as some of the other nicknames he’s been trying out lately.”
He shrugged conceding her point and dropped a light kiss on her nose because she looked remarkably proud of her bargaining skills. The Bart Express, he had to agree, was definitely a step up from some of Bart’s more inventive play on words.
“He didn’t hang around?”
She popped a plate in the microwave and nudged it closed with her elbow, “ to quote him, he had a hot date with an enchilada in Mexico.”
Grabbing a couple of wineglasses and a bottle of white from the fridge, he gave her a look, “I worry about him.”
He was only half joking. Bart had put on an appropriately tragic act of despair at the news that he and Chloe were married and living together and while Oliver was sure it had been an act, he knew the team dynamics had shifted slightly. Just as they had when Tess had been brought into the fold. And then Lois. It would take some getting used to.
Chloe followed him into the living room with napkins and chopsticks and he pulled her into his arms once they’d both offloaded their items onto the table. Wrapping his arms around her tightly, he rested his chin on the top of her head and just breathed her in. She smelled of shower gel and an unidentifiable scent that was all her. He’d wanted to do this all day. To just hold her in his arms. Relax.
She ran a hand underneath his t-shirt playfully. “I was hoping you’d stay in the green leather until it was time for dessert,” she whispered into his chest.
His lips quirked in a smile, “that could be arranged for later.”
She pressed against him and he cocked his head, sliding his hands over hips and holding her there, “or we could skip dinner. I had a muffin for breakfast and skipped lunch but eating is overrated.”
Laughing, she pulled away, “dinner first. You’ll need the stamina.”
“Is that a promise?” he called out as she headed back to kitchen with a sway in her hips that he was sure was partly just to drive him crazy.
“Oh yes!” Her reply floated back on the tail end of a laugh.
She was a tease. His wife was a tease. God, it was a turn on.
***
“So,” he waved his chopsticks in the general direction of her laptop and asked casually, “were you working when I came in?”
It was almost too casual. The studied air of nonchalance to mask the words he’d been wanting to ask as soon as he stepped into the house.
She didn’t meet his eyes, popped a mouthful of noodles into her mouth and chewed slowly before answering, “not exactly.”
He waited out the silence, counted to five in his head and returned the remarkably bright smile she directed in his direction just as he hit the silent five.
“You were forum hopping. Lurking. Whatever it is that you call it.” He couldn’t keep the note of accusation out of his voice.
“Maybe.”
“Chloe...”
“But it’s so funny.”
He spluttered, “there’s a campaign to get me together with the Blur. How is that funny?”
Her face fell, “you already know.”
He eyed her narrowly. She was crestfallen. Actually crestfallen that she wasn’t the first to beak this diabolic piece of news to him.
“Yes, I know. I work with AC and Victor and Bart. How can I not know?”
“And,” he took a gulp of win, “ there’s your cousin.”
He remembered Lois’ text. If anything her delight at the whole situation had been even more exuberant that Chloe’s. There had to be something wrong with the family gene pool. Their sense of humour was obviously warped. Sadistic even.
“Oh, she’s been relegated to ‘my cousin’ now?”
“Yes!”
Her feigned pout dissolved into another smile and he groaned as she set her carton on the table and reached for her laptop.
“No, Chloe, no!”
“The simmering sexual tension between the Green Arrow and the Blur reached new heights when...”
He briefly considered reaching over and turning it off but what would be the point? She was going to read him the most salacious bits of gossip regardless of what he did.
He winched as she read out aloud with all the drama of a stage play.It wouldn't be so bad if their fictional relationship wasn’t portrayed as a soft porn movie and a Shakespearean tragedy all rolled in to one. And why Clark? It would have been more acceptable had it been Victor or AC. Hell, even Dinah.
He pulled a face as she finished her sentence and beamed at him.
“There’s an R rated fanfiction forum too,” she informed him brightly, her food forgotten.
Not happening he decided.
She gasped as he came around the table, plucked the laptop from her hands, set it on the table and then lifted her out of her seat.
She raised an eyebrow as he pinched the skin behind her knees lightly and leaning down bit her lower lip lightly. Her eyes darkened and he was pretty sure all thoughts of teasing him had been forgotten. At least until the next morning.
“Yeah, I’m willing to trade that R rated for this kind of R rated,” she nodded for emphasis and he grinned as he carried her to their bedroom.
“Still want me in the green leather?”
“For round two,” she assured him.
***
Um hi! I'm kinda on LJ again. I don't even know where to begin filling you guys in with RL over the last few months so I thought I'd post fannish first and ease myself back in.
Also missed this place. And everyone!