A Man's Heart - 2/3
Title: A Man's Heart 2/3
Author: Jude
Email: Miss_Incognito4@live.co.uk
Rating: NC-17
Category: SMUT!
Disclaimer: I own nixies.
Distribution: Anyplace.
Notes: Grab a cuppa and enjoy!
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Guilt ate her from the inside out.
Ollie had been out chopping wood for over an hour and when he'd asked to come in, she'd been a meanie.
That's right.
A big, giant meanie who made her man freeze while she sipped hot cocoa and laughed.
Now she was stood, facing her crime and ohhh...
"I'm sorry?" Chloe tried, offering up the sweetest smile possible.
Oliver glared down at her, vengeance made his brown eyes sparkle in an evil way. "Look at me!"
Despite the guilt and remorse, she just couldn't help herself. "World's first walking, talking snowman? Believe me, Arrow. I am looking."
"If I wasn't holding ten tons of wood in my hands, I'd..."
"Kiss, cuddle, or torture?" She asked as her pouty lips curled up at the corners. "All three?"
Oliver searched for a reply, but his mind came up blank. The blizzard probably froze his brain into a nice little iceberg.
Her expression had him deflating like a popped balloon and his glare faded into something resembling hopelessness. "Have a heart, Tower."
Chloe made a show of rolling her eyes. "Fine," she sighed and blonde hair fluttered around her cheeks as she shook her head. "You fly by the seat of your pants every night and manage to complain about a tiny bit of snow."
"A tiny bit of snow?" He half yelled, eyebrows reached his hair line as brown irises dilated. How dare she?!
"Not exactly the Arctic circle out there, is it?" The best defense was always a offense. Or so the saying went, though she didn't think it'd help her case at all.
"It was a freaking blizzard, Chloe!"
"It wasn't that bad..." It kinda was if the low hissing sound of a windy snow storm was anything to go by.
Was she serious? "I'm the hunchback of Bumfuck nowhere!" Oliver turned around and made absolutely sure he shook some of the rotten white stuff onto her bare feet.
Her warm bare feet.
Her screech was a beautiful symphony of shock and surprise.
Oliver grinned like a maniac, hopelessness swiftly turned to glee as he stomped his boots, shook his entire body, and tried to get the mean little minx as best he could. He was such a badass.
Chloe literally squealed and jumped away from him, trying to dodge the falling snow with everything in her. "Stop it!"
"Never!"
"I'll make it up to you, Ollie! Promise!"
He paused and glanced over his shoulder, taking delight in a set of green eyes wide with a sudden chill. "How would you do that?"
"A sponge bath?!"
"Can't you do better than that, Sullivan?" It only took a few good strides for him to reach the log bucket next to the fire. "Tower?"
After his cold shoulder trick, Chloe was half tempted to watch him suffer the awkward move of putting the wood down when both his hands were full, but he was right. The fire that had been blazing since early that morning was basically running on fumes.
"If I must."
A space that took him four or five steps took her ten or eleven, and Ollie couldn't help but smile. Such a small person with such a big personality. He knew that if heroic powers were about strength of will and courage, then she'd be the strongest of them all.
She knelt down and started relieving him of his burdon, offering him a truce by way of a simple smile. "I was thinking," said she. "We bought all that food at the store..."
Oliver arched a brow as he threw one of the dryer logs onto the fire. "What about it?"
"How about a roast dinner? Lamb only takes a bit over half hour without the foil and it wouldn't take that long to put on the vegetables and potatoes..."
Gloves off, he held his hands near the fire and inhaled the fragrant smoke emanating from the logs. A good roast lamb dinner? "Sounds good."
She grinned. "Thought it would," she replied and slapped his thigh with her palm. "You go run yourself a nice, warm bath while I get to work. It's been a while since my fingers got domestic, but I'm pretty confident that I won't poison us."
He pretended to think it over. "A home cooked meal made by the little woman? That's something I could get used too."
Yeah, she didn't think so. "And I could get used to being mean."
"Wouldn't want that," Oliver managed to look serious. "If you're capable of leaving a man to fend for himself in the snowy fields of nature, then..."
"I was just joking around!"
He kept a very straight, very serious face for as long as he could before the laughter bubbled out. "Sure," he said, still chuckling. "Though I'd much rather you join me in the tub. I could wash your back."
Perv, she thought affectionately when his eyebrows wiggled suggestively. If the new game was suggestive, then she'd play. She'd happily play. "Thanks, but I'd rather you be hot first."
Oh, she could not be implying what he thought she was implying. "Are you saying I'm not hot? Cos you've checked me out. I've seen you!"
Chloe merely smirked and stood up. Men were so easy.
*~*~*
The kitchen was a wonderful place to be at this current moment in time.
Warm and full of divine smells from steaming vegetables to roast potatoes and lamb, to gravy and mint sauce.
Chloe sniffed and let a long, drawn out ahhhh of appreciation. There really was nothing that could beat a proper home cooked meal and now that she was making one, she understood why Martha Kent had been so popular.
That woman was Julia Child cleverly disguised as a farmer's wife.
Her pies had been sold at the Talon not because of her son's relationship with Lana, but because her pies were excellent. Her bread was sold at the local farmer's market because it was just damn good. Her flowers weren't used at Luthorcorp or Lexcorp functions because Lionel had a thing for her, but because they were always a damn good bunch.
Fact was, Martha Kent knew how to make things work, be it flowers or food or advice. Though it was always her food that got people grinning in anticipation.
She remembered both Lionel and Lex Luthor, at their best and worst, compliment Martha's culinary skills. There was something to be said if two sociopaths gave genuine praise for food.
Though Chloe knew none of her meals wouldn't be quite as good as a woman with as much experience, but as she watched Oliver devour his dinner, she felt quite the chef.
Even if he did talk with his mouth full.
"Gwa," the oh so posh billionaire spoke while giving her a lovely view of half chewed lamb. "S'goo, Coee. Ree goo."
Chloe would have normally cringed at such awful table manners, but watching him shovel more into his greedy mouth was just too amusing. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Oliver nodded, his face resembling that of a hamster with full cheek pouches. "Aireee lef?"
Aireee? What the hell was aireee? "Excuse me?" She asked and then saw one of the world's most eligible bachelors chew like his very life depended on it, right before seeing a lump travel down his oesophagus as he swallowed.
"I said is there any left?" His whole mouth made a wide circle before closing.
"Of what?"
He stared at her like she was stupid. "Everything."
Chloe only just managed to not laugh. The man had gravy on his chin and shirt, mint sauce above his lip and was that potato on his ear?
She looked closer and yes, that was potato. How, for the love of sanity, had he managed to get potato on his ear?
"There's not much vegetables, but plenty of the rest."
"Like meat and potatoes and gravy?"
"Yes, Ollie. Plenty of those." She wondered if bibs came in adult size. If not, it'd be a good business.
Huh.
Not a bad idea, Sullivan. If Oliver doesn't go for it, Tess would. Sure she's a hard faced bitch, but she's good at business and since she knows Ollie...
Heh heh heh.
Chloe hid her smirk by wiping her mouth with a napkin before getting up to fill his plate, arching a brow when he raised his fork as thanks and smiled through his chewing.
"You're welcome," she sat and followed his gaze to where it landed on her plate. Or her leftovers, as it were. "You can't be serious, Ollie. You've got a platefull."
There was a pause before Oliver made a motion with his fingers that clearly said gimme.
She let out a breath. "If you're sure..." and pushed her own plate towards. Sure, she only had a potato and two slices of lamb left, but for crying out loud. Oliver Queen was being one of three things.
One, over-appreciative just so she felt good about the dinner she made. Two, he was actually Bart Allen in disguise. Three, he was a human dustbin...
Okay, so two and three were no different, but it was the principle of the thing.
"Aw, man," Ollie managed between forkfulls. "Is good, Sidekick," came out before more food went in.
She knew he was gonna be too full becaus she knew him, but who was she to stop his love affair with a lamb joint?
"Thank you."
He shook his head. "Ummm, no is really good. Not had a proper home cooked roast since Mrs. K's last Thanksgiving dinner before she went to DC." He paused. "Did we buy rolls? Cos a bread roll would be great dipped in this gravy."
She sighed. Enough was enough. "You don't have to do this, Oliver."
Brown eyes lit up with confusion. "Do what? Enjoy my dinner?"
Chloe shook her head. "No, go overboard with eating too much just cos you want to make me feel good."
"Chloe, this is honestly one of the best meals I've had in a long, long time. It wasn't perfectly done, but c'mon. How many dinners like this have you actually done?"
"Before Lana moved in, it was just my dad and me, so it was birthdays and Father's day," she confessed ruefully. "During, we usually bought frozen dinners or went to the Kents' or Martha sent food to us. Not much fun cooking up a storm for two."
"Right," Oliver gave her a nod of understanding. "Now ask me how many dinners I've had like that? Remember there's only me left of my family."
Chloe's heart ached for him. Unlike Lana, Oliver never spoke or complained about not having his parents. Yes, he turned to drink when he found out Lionel had them killed, but murder was different to being killed by a meteor shower. Especially by a man that his friends relied on for intel.
From an asshole boarding schoolboy bully to international Playboy billionaire, Oliver had gone from the frying pan to the fire, but he was a better man because of it. He couldn't make up for what he did, but he'd learned from his mistakes and now...
Now he was helping in any which way he could.
Oliver Queen made good and she couldn't love him more.
Chloe shook off her thoughts and answered his question. "How many dinners like that have you had?"
He smirked and wiped his mouth. "I got pot roasts from Mrs. Kent and after that? Us guys went around the world and well, you know how guys eat. You also know how we eat."
"You have an estate in Star City," Chloe pointed out. "Surely you've had..."
"When, exactly, have I had the time go home?"
She thought about when Ollie was in Metropolis when he was with Lois. If he got pot roasts from Martha and mainly went out to eat with Lois, then swanned off to save the world, then the answer was...
"Never?"
"Bingo and I'm making up for it, so sue me," he grouched. "Plus, this is the very first meal we've had, Chlo. As in just us. With no Clark or Lois or The Devil, and I'm thoroughly enjoying it." He paused long enough to shove his last remaining bit of lamb into his mouth. "Sure, it isn't perfect, but after months of restaurants and take-out, this is exactly what I needed and what I also need is to undo a button on my pants so I can finish my dinner."