The Bottom of the Glass--5/13

[bluesuedeshoes]

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

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Next (Chapter 6)

Oliver propped himself in the doorway. He wasn't entirely sure he could believe what he was seeing, and he'd had to hang back for a moment to register the scenario.

He'd come bursting in the door preparing to tear some guy off of Chloe-or Chloe off of some guy if need be-but he'd stopped mid-jealous rage when he saw what was really going on.

He was going to clobber Bart later. Chloe was not flirting. He'd seen Chloe flirt. This was simply not it.

He could not say, however, that he had ever seen Chloe drunk-a concern he would deal with later-but he didn't think he'd ever have pictured her being quite like this. Laughing outrageously and nearly falling off her barstool every five seconds, Chloe was ridiculously giddy. The bartender clearly liked her, which was hard to hold against him, seeing as it was difficult not to do. Most of the room seemed fond of her.

And then she glanced up and she saw him. It was as though the smile on her face couldn't possibly have existed because now there was no trace.

The bartender noticed, too. He followed her line of sight and his eyes landed on Oliver with suspicion.

Taking that as his cue, Oliver headed over to the now clearly distraught Chloe, trying to ignore the fact that it was his appearance that had initiated her dismay.

"You know, I pictured arriving home going a couple of different ways. Tracking you to a bar was not one of them."

"You want me to throw him out, Chloe?" the barkeep asked Chloe. Oliver could have throttled him, but Chloe shook her head fervently.

"He's just here to take me home," she said, not a little sadly.

He looked at Oliver for a minute, then shrugged. Chloe turned to pay her tab at the same time Oliver reached for his wallet, but Brent waved them both off. "On the house tonight, Chloe. No offense," he looked at her conspiratorially, "but I hope I never see you again."

Chloe grinned at him. "You're a beautifully normal person. Have I told you that?"

He laughed. "Several times now."

"Come on, Chloe," Oliver said, moving to help her from the stool. She flinched when he touched her and Oliver drew back quickly in concern. "Are you okay?"

She looked at him nervously, but nodded. "Sorry." She hiccuped.

Warily, Oliver tried again, and this time she seemed fine and allowed herself to be escorted toward the door. She stumbled several times and Oliver shook his head as he caught her.

"How much did you have, Sidekick?"

"A lot," Chloe said, drawing out the words carefully.

"Care to tell me why?" he asked, helping her into the car.

"Because when I wake up in the morning, I don't have to remember anything," she said glibly.

Oliver looked at her sharply. "Let's get you home, Chloe."

Chloe frowned at him. "Which one?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there's the Talon with Lois. There's Watchtower. There's your place-although I guess I don't really live there, do I? No, I don't live there, I just live there. I should get my own toothbrush to keep there. That's what normal couples do, isn't it?" she asked him vaguely.

"Erm, I guess, maybe." Was that what all this was about? She was unsure of their relationship status?

There had to be more to it than that.

"How was your trip?" Chloe asked, carefully sounding out the words.

"It was fine. I missed you."

"That's nice."

"Did you miss me?"

"No," Chloe shook her head fervently. "I've been dreading you being back. But I'll never tell you that," Chloe added. "I don't want to hurt your feelings."

Oliver said nothing, but kept his eyes on the road.

---

Once again Chloe woke up with a hang over she was sure she'd earned, but this time her heart stopped for a moment when she opened her eyes.

She was in Oliver's apartment. How did I get here? she wondered. The other night she knew she'd called a taxi to take her home but she couldn't imagine how she'd ended up at the Clocktower.

She moaned dramatically, rolling over to bury her face in the pillow. She sobbed dryly for a moment. It smelled like him.

"Call Lois," Oliver said, and Chloe jumped. Nervously she looked up to see him standing in the doorway, his expression empty. He looked indicatively at her cell phone on the bedside table.

Sheepishly, Chloe sat up and dialed Lois's number.

"Lo?"

"CHLOE! Thank God! Do you know I've been worried sick about you? Where have you been?"

"I-" Chloe hesitated, she was tired of lying about being sick. "I had to get out last night, Lois. I'm sorry I've been so difficult to reach."

"Get out where? I thought you were sick!"

"I did feel a bit ill the other day but I think that's been a bit exaggerated. I'm fine, Lois. Listen, I'm at Ollie's right now. Can I talk to you later?"

"Fine. Clark and I have a date tonight, but I'm kidnapping you the moment I get home, got it?"

Chloe sighed. "Sounds fine. We'll talk properly, then, okay?"

"Good."

"Bye, Lois. Sorry again."

"Yeah, yeah. Later."

She hung up and carefully avoided looking up at Oliver. Instead she played with the phone in her hands, staring determinedly at it.

"So," Oliver said. "Since when are you a bar fly?"

Chloe's face turned red. "You picked me up from the bar last night?"

"Yep."

"Did I call you?"

Oliver scoffed. "I wish."

"What happened?"

"Oh, nothing so terrible. You tripped a few times on the way out the door, but otherwise you're an adorable drunk." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "You looked pretty unhappy to see me, though. Any reason for that?"

Chloe said nothing. She was started when she felt the bed shift under Oliver's weight when he sat down next to her.

"It would appear we need to talk, Chloe. Anything you want to get off your chest now?"

Chloe still didn't say anything, although not because she didn't want to. Her throat burned and felt tight, indicating that the moment she tried to speak she was going to cry. She closed her eyes, wishing her head weren't making such painful protestations.

Oliver reached for a glass of water and a couple of painkillers she hadn't noticed beside the bed. "Here," he said, offering them to her.

Chloe opened her eyes and took the glass and pills, swallowing gratefully.

Oliver watched her and sighed. "Isn't this supposed to be my bit, Chloe? Hiding in the bottom of a glass of whiskey? That's not you."

""Bourbon, actually," Chloe joked weakly.

Oliver didn't laugh. "I don't now where to start with this, Chloe. We could talk about you lying to your friends and family about being sick. The fact that something's obviously got you shaken up pretty badly. How you've been avoiding everyone, particularly me. Or how about the fact that I've never seen anyone less happy to see me than you looked last night? Did I mention the fact that you flinched-dramatically-whenever I touched you? What's going on?"

Chloe drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly to her.

When she still hadn't said anything, Oliver voiced his most pressing concern. "Are we okay? Is this about something I've done?"

Chloe looked up at him for the first time. "You haven't done anything."

Oliver looked at her worriedly. "But we're not okay, are we?"

Chloe's eyes welled up. "I'm-" she hesitated, "I'm not sure."

"Chloe, what's happened since I left? Everything was okay a few days ago."

"What happened to your arm?" Chloe asked suddenly.

Oliver frowned, glancing down in the direction her eyes had taken. There was a two-day old gash in his bicep. Nothing serious, although it had certainly stung at the time. "Mugger," he answered simply. "Don't change the subj-"

But Chloe wasn't listening. Tentatively, she lifted her fingers to his arm to lightly trace the outline of the wound. Then, closing her eyes, she focused in her energy, bracing herself for his reaction.

Oliver's jaw fell slightly when it was over, and he stared at the newly healed skin on his arm. Slowly he lifted his eyes back to Chloe, who now had her face buried in her arms, having folded them over her knees.

"Chloe-" he tried to get her to lift her head.

"Don't. Please don't." She didn't want to look at him.

"Don't what? What exactly is it you think I''m going to do? Chloe, you should have called me."

"I'm sorry, Ollie," she said miserably. "I know. I just needed tot hink. I wasn't ready for everyone to look at me differently again. Plus Clark's going to have a temper tantrum," she added darkly.

"Clark's not going to have a tantrum. He's just going to be overbearingly protective," Oliver chuckled. "I understand the need to think, but I hardly consider going on a binge thinking. I'm kind of an expert on that particular brand of 'thinking.' It doesn't usually help. And as for-" he stopped, apparently irritated. "Would you mind looking at me?"

Chloe tilted her head upward just enough to peer up at him.

His lips twitched in response. "It'll have to do. Anyway, as for looking at you differently, I've got news, Sidekick: I've been looking at you differently for a couple of months now, and it's got nothing to do with your miraculous first aid abilities." He chuckled at her. He paused for a moment, then pushed himself off the bed. "I bet you want some coffee."

She watched his back as he left, guilt sinking into the pit of her stomach. Still exhausted, she got up to go after him.

He glanced up when he heard her footsteps, but said nothing.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "There's more. I can't die from healing someone. I talked to Emil. Apparently the mutation has evolved-to protect me fromt he side effects. Emil's working on a cure, but all we know for sure is that my body has actually become dependent on the kryptonite in my system. If we remove it, I'll die. At least so far that's all the information we've got. I found out it was back the day you left when I found a girl in an alley who'd been shot. Then later, I healed a little boy of a concussion her got falling off his bike. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to admit any of it out loud. It wasn't that I didn't trust you."

When she was finally finished, she opened her eyes. Oliver was closer than he'd been when she closed her eyes. He pulled her into a hug. "Have I mentioned how incredibly attractive you are to me when you're sober?" he joked.

Chloe returned the hug warmly. "I'm sorry, Oliver. I really am."

"Look, we'll keep talking to Emil, I'll make sure he has whatever he needs to figure this out, but...well, I have to ask it...you're saying it can't hurt you anymore, why is this so bad?"

Chloe had her face buried in his chest. In retrospect she should have called Oliver immediately. He would have dropped everything and flown in to see her instantly, and then she could have had the comforting smell of his cologne. What was I thinking? she mocked herself internally. At his question, though, she pulled away slightly, studying the floor. "It's too much power for one person, Ollie. How do I decide when it is and isn't okay to save someone? And what am I supposed to do, sit around an emergency room all day? Besides," she added somberly, "in my experience, nothing good comes from having too much kryptonite in your system."

"All excellent points, and perfectly reasonable. Now how about the truth?"

Chloe looked up at him in surprise, and for a moment, she got lost in his brown eyes, so full of concern for her. She opened her mouth and then closed it before opening it again. "I'm scared."

He nodded.

"Growing up in Smallville, I met dozens, if not hundreds of people who had been infected with kryptonite. They were all certifiable. I don't want that to be me. The stuff does something to you. It's a poison, and not just to Clark."

Oliver tightened his hold on her. "It's going to be okay, Chloe." After a few moments he spoke up again, clearly attempting to lighten the mood. "Now, would you like to explain to me why Bart thought you were flirting with the bartender?"

Chloe looked up at him in surprise. "Brent?"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Why does the bartender have to have a name, may I ask?"

Chloe giggled. "Because he was really sweet."

"So you were flirting with him."

"Who me? I can't imagine what you mean. Although he did ask for my number," she lied.

"That's it," Oliver said, dropping his arms and grabbing his keys.

"What are you doing?" Chloe asked, amused. He was slipping on his jacket.

"Going down there to rip that cross-eyed nobody a new one."

"He wasn't cross-eyed. Actually he was kind of cute."

Oliver looked upward as though asking the Heavens what Chloe could be thinking. "He was hopelessly deformed. Now let go." She had wrapped her arms around his elbow and was clearly laughing at him.

"Ollie-"

"Get off, woman!" he said, trying to shake her free. She held on tighter.

"We both know I wouldn't dream of looking at another man."

"Particularly Quasimoto the barkeep," he amended.

"Particularly Brent the barkeep."

"I'm going down there," he threatened.

She rolled her eyes. "Particularly Quasimoto the barkeep."

"Because clearly you have no use for him when you have a sex god like me."

"Oliver!" Chloe laughed.

"Say it," he shook his keys.

"Because clearly I have no use for him when I have a sex god like you," she said sarcastically, "however arrogant, absurd, and full of it you may be."

"Yeah, yeah," Oliver said dismissively, tossing the keys back on the counter, "just as long as you acknowledge the sex god part. Now come here," he said, turning her so he could kiss her.

It wouldn't be until several hours later that it occurred to Chloe that she should have told Oliver that they had never-verbally-said they were exclusive, and she had a right to flirt with anyone she wanted. At the time it had seemed perfectly natural to try to appease him. Later she realized they were behaving more and more like a normal couple. Dangerously so.

Oliver didn't seem to mind.

Regardless, after Oliver appeared to be satisfied with his slightly delayed 'welcome home' kiss, the two of them had discussed further what needed to be done, including not only talking to Dr. Hamilton, but also talking to Lois.

Chloe, anxiously, had determined that she wanted Lois to know the truth. On her way to see her cousin that evening, though, she began to wonder how wise that decision was.

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