[For star_cityson] Dirty laundry is nothing I can't keep clean.

[notyouranswer]

Lana does as promised - there's little she puts stock in nowadays but her word is still her word. She texts Oliver to let him know she's waiting for him at one of the many penthouses in Metropolis. It's her own little sanctuary of sorts, free from the prying society eyes and more importantly, free of Lex Luthor

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[star_cityson]

Oliver has the limo drop him off in front of the building. As he rides up the elevator to the penthouse, curiosity and admiration are warring for top billing.

He straightens his jacket as he nears the door, and knocks lightly. A mishcievous smile crosses his face as his waits. He can only imagine what Lana has come up with.

Leaning against the door frame, he waits for the door to open, a chuckle echoing through the hallway.

[notyouranswer]

Lana places the wine she'd been drinking seconds earlier on the vanity table. Before she walks away she takes one last look at herself in the mirror. No one would find fault in what they saw.

She observes her own looks with disinterest, her lips curving as a thought enters her mind. She chases it away quickly.

She opens the door and smirks at finding him leaning against the door frame. She leans on the opposite side, tilting her head thoughtfully. "And you're almost on time. You're simply full of surprises, aren't you?"

[star_cityson]

Oliver grins at her and stands up straight, shrugging a bit. "I like surprises, generally. Somehow, I don't think I'm the one holding the monoply on surprises tonight, though."

He takes a fast, sweeping glance over her and his grin widens into an admiring smile. "You look absolutely lovely, Lana. I feel somewhat underdressed." He doesn't, of course, and he's not, but the tone of his voice is light and amused.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he stood relaxed and calm and tilted his head to the side.

[notyouranswer]

The girl she'd been years and years ago would've blushed profusely at the once over. He's a smooth and terribly charming man. She's never been unaffected, but being Mrs. Luthor takes what little shame you'd have.

And what little goodness. The Lana she is now only lifts a brow, eyes always glinting with invitation.

Opening the door further and motioning for him to come inside, she says teasingly, "How much did that suit cost? If it didn't cost more than, say, a third-world country I'll be very disappointed."

[star_cityson]

He keeps his eyes on hers, his smile natural and set. Opening his mouth slightly, he breathes out and his smile shifts into something slightly more...unreadable. Even to himself.

"I don't start things that I don't intend to finish," he says quietly. "I'm in, wherever this leads. I'm in."

Why? He can't answer that for certain, though the question resounds in his mind. He simply knows that he wants to and for now, that's more than enough. "Besides, dead ends? They're an opportunity." To break through, to fight through. "I've yet to not find a path around them." He raised his glass slightly. "To regret?"

[notyouranswer]

"To regret." She lifts her own glass, clinking it with his. Her eyes never leave Oliver's as she finishes her wine. In this world there aren't good people and bad people, she's realized. Only predator and prey and tonight, here, she doesn't mind being either.

Being both.

"I'm surprised you don't have enough of those," she says musingly, her voice darker than it was only minutes ago. Her fingers curl at the back of his neck. "The right kind of regrets, that is. Not that I'm complaining."

[star_cityson]

"I'm surprised, myself," he says, his focus narrowed now. He takes in every detail. The cold, smooth glass against his fingers. The warmth of her fingers as they slide against his neck... Everything is something he notices, as thought it will all be very, very important.

His head dips down slightly, moving closer, and Oliver's smile is knowing. He wonders if he's fascinated by the woman, herself, or by what she represents. The answer, of course, is both.

His voice is low now. In a second of pure inner-amusement, he realizes he sounds enitrely like the man he hides from his everyday life. "I'm having trouble finding any complaints right now, myself."

[notyouranswer]

"I think that means we should stop talking altogether." Lana's lips brush his with every word and suddenly the amusement dispels into something darker. She knew they would end up here. The two of them, out of all their old friends, are the only ones forever stuck in that morally gray area.

She's drawn to it, wouldn't think of denying it but now, confronted with the sight of him she lets go. For years she's been a statue of stone and for the moment she is shifting into something else altogether. She is wanting.

She feels his breath hot on her mouth and she cases it until she finds his own mouth in a slow and devastating burn. The darker side of her sprints free. He can handle it.