Title: Scars
Author: iluvaqt
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Escape S09E15
Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville, nor do I claim to own any other characters therefore owned by DC comics.
Acknowledgements: All the mistakes are my own. This hasn't been beta-ed.
Notes: Written in response to auntyk's challenge for a response to - scars - "they can be kinda cute too....you have one in particular that I'm partial too"
Summary: Oliver considers himself observant on most occasions and it's his keen eye that uncovers many things his Sidekick likes to keep hidden.
If Oliver didn't have such a sexy voice, she might have kicked him out of her bed by now. Possibly told him to hire a new lookout too. He was always talking, if his mouth wasn't otherwise engaged with food, drink or attached to part of her body, he was talking. That or making those husky moans that made her every nerve tingle and her body tighten in response.
"Wow, Chlo, here I thought I was the one sporting the battle scars. You weren't kidding when you said you spent every second week growing up in hospital were you?"
Chloe resisted the urge to roll her eyes and arched against him, urging him to focus by bringing the lower halves of their body into direct contact.
He moaned that rumble of a throaty moan that was more like a growl and she shivered against him. He crushed his mouth to hers and pushed her deeper into the mattress.
His lips worked their way across her jawline to her earlobe and down her neck. Where he paused again fingering the almost invisble scar that slashed over the front of her throat. His touch was feather light, almost a lover's caress but his expression was anything but.
"What is this?"
Chloe flinched. Nobody had ever noticed it before. Maybe if it had been there five years ago it would have been fairly obvious but hidden between thin crease lines and the shadow of her chin, no one had ever said a thing about it.
The night it happened, she'd almost been caught out by Lois but a quick adjustment of her scarf and deflection to Lois' own problems, her loving and usually attentive cousin had missed it. A week of wearing turtlenecks, the shallow wound had healed over leaving only a faint trace scar. Thanks to her faulty genetics on her father's side, she scared everywhere but her face. At least that was a plus. Adolescent hormones, not to mention her regular brushes with death would have left her permanently disfigured.
"Chloe?" he prompted.
His tone said he wasn't going to let this one drop, just like he hadn't let the other topic go, the first night they'd had sex in the Watchtower. He'd been in the process of peeling off her top when he sat shock still and stared at her stomach and the ugly puckered scar that marred her otherwise creamy, untainted skin. What followed before a less frenzied session of coitus was a clinical retelling of her discovery of her now absent meteor ability.
"A silly kid accident. I did it using my Dad's razor."
She surprised herself with how quickly the lie came together and she threaded her fingers in his soft hair, leaning up to kiss his pensive mouth.
"Why can't you tell me the truth?" he asked softly, rolling away from her. He lay next to her on his back staring up at the ceiling. "How can the story be worse than the scar from Lois?" His brows pinched together and he turned to his head to her suddenly. Lifting himself on one arm, he stared at her in concern. "Just how many times have you died?"
Chloe laughed humorlessly. "You really want to have this conversation? Now?" she shot him a withering glance and sucked in a deep breath. "You have the worst timing, Ollie."
"Says the woman who prefers to sit on alien killing artillery all by herself until the last possible moment. Were you really planning on telling me about it before or after the sky turned red?"
He was on a roll now. The train was just going to keep on chugging, he was worse than Lois with hanging onto past mistakes. If she didn't cut him off now, he'd be starting on the obsessive work hours she kept next. Like he could really point fingers. Pot calling the kettle black. They were both dedicated to the cause. Their tools of the trade, hers a computer, his a bow and arrow. Same difference.
"I don't have my ability anymore," Chloe reasoned tiredly.
"I doesn't make you any less of a target. Lex might be dead but the people that worked for him are still out there. Chloe, does potential target risk mean anything to you? How are we supposed to protect you if we don't have all the facts?"
Chloe pulled the sheet up and ground her jaw. Fun didn't look to be happening tonight. She was trying very hard not to lose her temper. This was water way under the bridge and down the river. Dredging up the past, it's what she tried daily to avoid. It was the only chance she had of keeping it together. "Okay, so someone tried to kill me. Are you happy now?"
"Not happy until I know the risk is negligible," he grumbled, throwing an arm around her midsection to drag her closer. He nuzzled her hair and sighed.
Chloe didn't answer. How could she answer to his satisfaction without opening the Davis Pandora's Box? "Call it self defense. He won't be bothering anyone again."
He stilled and breathed deeply. He seemed to stroke her side absently for a moment and then stopped. "I promised fun. You're not having fun," he said succinctly. "Sorry, switching off the work brain as of this second."
And for the next two hours, she forgot why she was annoyed and that they'd almost waded into 'he whose name was never mentioned' territory.
That was until she realized he'd tried a different tactic. Lucky for him, and painful ignorant of her.
*~*~*~*~*
Oliver peeled away the string strap of her negligee and pressed kisses and gentle nips along her shoulder to her neck. They were in the middle of the kitchen and she was trying to make breakfast. Trying and not succeeding. She'd filled the coffee pot to over flowing and she'd had to make the cheese toast twice because she kept missing the toaster oven bell and the first lot had come out charcoal black.
"I like this one," he said running his bottom lip over her small scar just below her collarbone. "It's almost heart-shaped," he said kissing it tenderly.
Chloe smiled and grabbed his face. "If you think getting lasered by your best friend is cute, I'll sign you up for one." She patted his cheek lightly at his bewildered look. Winking, she lifted and slipped under his arm to pick up their plates. Walking over to where the pan was sizzling on the hot plate, she dished the eggs onto the toast and picked up the dishes again.
Oliver followed her to the table and sat down with a frown. "Do I get to ask why Clark tried amateur tattoo hour on you?"
"He was deactivating a tracking chip Lex implanted in me," Chloe said before picking up her toast and taking a large bite, in the hope of discouraging any more questions. His eyebrow just lifted a little higher and she sighed knowing that wouldn't be the last of that conversation either.
*~*~*~*~*
They were currently in the shower in his penthouse apartment and even after sending her into a crying boneless heap for the third time today, he seemed intent on going for a forth. He ran that sea sponge around her ankles and feet, slowly working his way up her legs. The tiny rough pores fraying her already hypersensitive nerve endings. She was gasping and shivering already and he wasn't even near home yet.
She bit back a small curse, unprepared for his spontaneous ascent, as he skipped right over her lower body and went straight for her breasts. He ran the sponge wide circles around each mound getting closer and closer to the peaks with each rotation. He stopped and the sponge disappeared.
Water hit her chest directly and she coughed, nearly choking when some of the spray went up her nose. "Ollie?" she croaked.
"Sorry," he said absently, not even looking at her face. His eyes were locked on her chest.
She waved a hand in front of him. He was a picture of intense focus, but not the sexual hunger kind.
"That's an odd place for a small pox shot don't you think?" he said quirking an eyebrow, his lips twitching with a smirk. "Did the doctor miss on purpose? Cause to be honest, if I were him I'd have been pretty tempted."
Chloe slapped his arm and bit down hard on her lower lip to keep from smiling. "It's not that kind of scar," she yelled, hitting him again. "It was a shot to counteract a truth procuring serum I'd inhaled. It turned me into a world class interrogator for a day. Clark had to inject the drugs into my heart to jump start me after I flat-lined."
Oliver stared at her for a second, his face full of concern. "Okay forgetting for a second that Clark's seen you naked or semi clothed about as many times as I have, you still haven't answered my question. Just how many times has Chloe Sullivan returned to the land of the living?"
Chloe groaned and turned to shut off the water. There again, she'd forgotten her plan of attack. Keep him focused on bedroom activities and his mouth fully engaged at all times. She had to read up on the art of sexual distraction. She obviously needed pointers.
*~*~*~*~*
Oliver stayed perched where he was and half smirked at her. He loved her scars, just like the woman herself they were a stamp of intrigue and a tribute to her strength of will. She was a survivor and nothing would keep her down, for a time, even death couldn't keep her out of the game.
He smiled as she shushed him. He could see it in her eyes. She thought he was going to go on about her erogenous scar again. The one that made her arch wantonly and moan breathally in a way that made his groin ache. He liked that little scar a lot. It was just under her hair at the nape of her neck, hidden from view by the casual onlooker. Barely a dot but it was the dense nature of it and the surrounding skin that seemed to hold a bundle of nerves that lead a direct path to every other sexually charged part of her body, that kept his fingers coming back. Just a few strokes of his thumb over it and a kiss or two and he could have her humming like a live-wire. He paid a lot of a special attention to that scar undressing her.
The story behind that one was a little racy too. He would have loved to see Chloe gone wild. It took a lot to get her to let her hair down and rarely outside behind closed doors. Of course he didn't know the full extent of her escapades while under the influence of an alien parasite, because she didn't remember much herself but if Chloe's bedroom persona was anything to go by, he was sure she'd been a siren.
So of course, considering how often he visited that spot she'd assume that was his favorite. Truthfully, if she'd waited a beat, he would have told her which one of her many scars was his favorite and why. It was relatively new. A light slash across her left arm. Vordigan hadn't intended to kill her but Chloe trusting her instincts had dove to the floor and instead of the arrow hitting its intended mark in her shoulder, it just skimmed her arm. The fact that she'd made him miss had ticked his old mentor off royally. From what Chloe told him, Vordigan had been ready to kill her and if Clark hadn't shown up he would have. He knew that was true because Vordigan didn't want another mark on his record, he had to cover up the fact that he'd missed. It's why the man had tracked him down in the first place. He knew he was losing his edge and he was desperate to go out in the way of their sect.
Oliver loved that scar because it proved to him that Chloe was important. Vordigan wouldn't have targeted her if she wasn't. The signs had been there for a long time but seeing that mark each time he undressed her, reminded him of why she was special. She trusted her instincts, she was a fighter and a survivor. Just having her in his life gave him focus. She'd pulled him out of his self destructive spiral when no one else could. They understood each other. Two halves of one whole. The perfect partnership. They knew exactly what they expected from each other, without having to define anything or have unattainable expectations. It was a moment of weakness, caught out in an awkward situation they hadn't been prepared to confront yet that had insecurities which stemmed from not knowing Chloe as long as Clark had, from not being the same caliber hero or the love her life for years, that had caused him to doubt his understanding of her. Thinking of Clark's relationships, and his mistreatment of Chloe, he had to laugh inwardly at his stupidity for thinking Clark had any pearls of wisdom to offer. He wouldn't doubt himself again.
They were a long way from talking future, playing house or romancing like normal couples, but already he felt certain that they were more solid and together than any of his prior relationships had been. It came from trust and knowing each others secrets, the good and the bad. He'd stand by her no matter what and he knew he could expect the same from her. So he wouldn't be buying her gifts any time soon, but he could spoil her in other ways, like his undivided attention whenever they were alone, or the frequent texts he knew brought a smile to her face. She liked knowing what he was doing or thinking. Actions speak louder than words so the saying went. Who needed that empty three-letter-word promise that had burned them both time and again. At the end of the day when the dust settled they'd be there, together. Fighting the big bad, or whatever. That was what mattered.
Chloe leaned in, brushing her nose against his and he smirked a little, when she breathed against the scar to the left of his chin. It was from a biking accident when he was a kid. He chuckled lightly and dragged her forward, securing her in his lap. "What have I told you about teasing kisses, woman? You want to kiss, be committed about it." He captured her mouth in a way that meant business, slowly prying her lips apart, letting his tongue slide in to caress hers. Humming throatily at the taste of her, he enjoyed a thorough and deliberate exploration of the lush cavern of her mouth. When he was done, he released her to discover her lips were swollen and dark. Her cute nose was rosy pink from the chilly morning air and her green eyes were sparkling. He couldn't be more entranced by her.
"Ready to hit the road, Mrs. Green?"
She beamed that heart stopping smile of hers and pushed against his chest playfully. "That one's gonna stick isn't it?"
"I don't know. Mrs. G, kinda has a nice ring to it."
Chloe snorted and jumped up from his lap, walking over to her bags. He watched her bend over to collect her handbag and extract the travel handle from her suitcase. She had one delectable ass on her, he could watch her move all day. Probably earn a slap up the back of the head for it but it'd be worth it.
This had been one heck of a weekend for revelations and clarity inducing encounters. Scar tales, a Scottish banshee, winged flights with mace wielding heroes, Lazarus experiences, between them, they'd have a tonne of stories to tell the grand-kids some day. They'd never believe half of them.