bluesuedeshoes | The Bottom of the Glass--4/13 (Reply)

Author: BlueSuede
Title: The Bottom of the Glass
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama
Pairings: Chloe/Oliver
Summary: Chloe's meteor powers return with reinforcements. Instead of talking to anyone about it, even Oliver, she finds a different refuge.
Warnings: mild OOC on Chloe's part

Chapter 1

Previous (Chapter 3)
Next (Chapter 5)

-4-

Lois paced the floor anxiously. "Cuz? Would you pick up your phone? You're wearing me out with this not returning my calls business."

She hung up for the fifth time. Finding out from Oliver that her cousin was sick...there was something just plain wrong about that. She was supposed to be the one who gave the boyfriend head's ups-well, non-boyfriend in this case, as Chloe was always insisting.

Chloe had been spending a lot of time at work and at Oliver's place lately, so they hadn't been seeing much of each other.

"But really!" she scoffed in frustration, "I have to find out you're sick secondhand, Chlo?" She assumed that Chloe had been sleeping all day, and that was the reason she wasn't taking calls. Still, she was about ready to drop in unannounced to check on her.

She rolled her eyes at the thought. Oliver had practically forbidden her to go 'bother' Chloe. "She's my cousin," she grumbled, resigning herself to going to work for the moment. She could drop in on Chloe afterward.

"You know, lady, weren't you in here at two in the morning last night?"

"If I was?" Chloe raised an eyebrow at the bartender. She was swirling a glass of water dejectedly.

He shrugged. "Trouble on the home-front?"

She glanced up in surprise. "What makes you say that?"

He wiped a glass down and glanced at the empty room around them. With a sigh, he tossed the rag and leaned on the counter, giving her a shrewd look. "You were in here until I closed last night. It is now..." he glanced at his watch "two in the afternoon, and you're in here again. Although, at least you aren't drinking this time," he noted, nodding at the glass in her hand.

"Give it time," she smirked.

"You got an abusive boyfriend or something?" he asked.

Chloe looked at him sharply. "No."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Just making sure."

She looked at him thoughtfully. He was young, maybe her age, a year or two older perhaps. She liked the look of him. He seemed like exactly what you wanted the average Joe off the street to be: young, modestly good-looking, polite, unassuming. He probably led a completely average life with completely average friends and completely average troubles. She rested her chin on her hand as she surveyed him.

"What?" he asked.

"What would you have done if I said I had an abusive boyfriend?"

He glanced at the door and back at her. "Called the cops?" he suggested.

Chloe couldn't help it, she grinned at him. It was such a simple, ordinary solution to such a simple, ordinary problem. "You're a nice guy."

He looked unimpressed by the statement. "I guess. Theoretically there are a few of us out there." He gave her a half-hearted smile. She took another swig of water in response. "I'm Brent, by the way."

"Chloe," she responded.

"So is this about a guy, Chloe?"

She shook her head. "I wish." She paused, thinking of the fact that her fear of talking to Oliver and Clark was part of her problem, not to mention her incredible guilt over not being able to save Jimmy (even, if she were being honest, Davis, too). She sighed. "Then again, doesn't it always stem back to that one way or another?"

He smiled knowingly. "What's the trouble?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she sighed.

"Try me. I got all day," he said, gesturing the nearly empty room.

She shook her head. "I don't know. It's a convoluted story. Tell me something," she said instead.

"Anything you want, beautiful."

"Do you think God has a purpose for everything?"

He looked surprised. "I never thought too much about it. Don't go to church a lot."

"But you believe in God," she pressed.

He shrugged noncommittally. "Yeah."

"So do you think He does?"

He looked unsure of how to answer and Chloe gave up. "Never mind. Hey, make me one of those martinis like last night, would ya?"

He shook his head wearily, reaching for a glass. "Lady, whatever drives a girl like you to drink better be something else."

Chloe didn't answer, but glanced over her shoulder as a few people walked in. The place would start filling up soon. She was glad. The noise would be welcome.

Three hours later, Chloe was edging from buzzed to tipsy when she heard an extremely unwelcome voice.

"Well, well, well. Trouble in paradise? I certainly hope not."

"What in God's name are you doing here?" Chloe said with contempt, spinning on her bar stool to look Tess Mercer in the eye.

"Shouldn't you be off playing house somewhere?"

"Shouldn't you be crawling through sewers to hide from Checkmate agents?"

Tess scoffed. "You think I don't know how to lay low?"

Chloe took another sip of her drink. "I think I see much too much of you for someone who should be making herself invisible."

Tess smirked. "Concerned? I'm touched."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Interesting how you make this about me, and yet, I'm not the one drowning in a shot glass."

"I wonder if its possible to drown in a shot glass worth of liquid..." Chloe giggled, looking at the empty glass she was toying with in her fingers. Then she looked sharply at Tess. "And if you haven't noticed, you're here, too."

Tess smirked. "You think I'd be here if you weren't?"

The smile fell from Chloe's face. "What do you want with me?"

"I want to know why Dr. Emil Hamilton is doing blood work on you."

"You know, I used to want to be a reporter. That worked out beautifully. Maybe you'll have better luck getting what you want." She tried to rest her elbow on the bar, but it slipped.

Tess gave her a patronizing look. "You're a pathetic drunk."

Chloe scoffed. "You think this is me drunk? Boy, you ain't seen nothin' yet." She giggled, taking another shot.

"Duly noted. Why is Hamilton testing your blood?"

"How do you even know about that anyway?" Chloe looked at her, tilting her head a bit too much to the side.

"Hey, Chloe, you doin' all right?" It was the bartender, Brent, who was filling up her shot glass and eyeing Tess suspiciously.

"Oh, we're peachy," Chloe said sarcastically.

Brent chuckled at her. Then he glanced up at Tess and gave her a warning look. "You order a drink or you leave, lady."

Chloe smirked to herself. It was evident that Brent had noticed Tess wasn't a welcome addition to Chloe's party for one.

Tess eyed her for a moment before turning to leave. "I'll find out, Chloe. We both know I will," she called over her shoulder on her way out the door.

Chloe grimaced at her back. "I hate her," she told Brent.

"Who is she? The other woman?" he asked.

Chloe snorted. "She wishes."

He looked startled and then he laughed. "I gotta meet this boyfriend of yours sometime."

Chloe looked at him, grinning. "I like you," she said, tapping him on the nose.

He laughed. "Yeah, you're all right, too." He left her to tend another customer.

"Oliver!"

"Lois, you're going to deafen me one of these days. What is it?"

"I don't know where Chloe is."

"She not at home?" Oliver asked over the phone.

"No!" Lois said. "She's nowhere to be found."

Oliver grimaced. He was standing in Watchtower, wondering exactly the same thing as Lois. Sick, my ass, he thought. "Don't worry about it, Lois. I just got home. There's a voicemail on my machine from her. She's at Dinah's place."

"Who?"

"Friend of ours. Dinah must have invited her over."

"I thought she was sick. What's she doing leaving the house?"

Oliver cursed himself for mentioning to Lois that Chloe was sick. And now he was covering up for Chloe's lies to her. This better be good, Sidekick. He shook his head. "I think Dinah told me she was feeling a little better. I'm sure she's fine, Lois. I'll have her call you when I talk to her."

"You'd better!" Lois said. "And tell her that she is in huge trouble for keeping me so out of the loop. I haven't heard from her in days!"

"From what I understand, she's been sleeping a lot, Lo. But I'll tell her."

Hell, he thought, I'm going to be chewing her out for avoiding me, too...Soon as I find her, that is.

He checked his watch. It was eight o'clock. Where was she?

He'd sent Bart over to Watchtower with Victor: Victor to disarm the security which Chloe had apparently altered, Bart to scope out wherever she was and make sure it was all right.

"Dude, I found her, but you are not going to like it," Bart said into the phone to Oliver.

"Where is she?" Oliver asked, jumping in his car and starting the ignition.

"Bar on 31st. And she seems pretty cozy with some bartender."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't know. She's chatting him up or something."

"She's not chatting anyone up," Oliver growled, punching the gas a little more vigorously than was strictly necessary.

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