Chapter Text
Metropolis...Clocktower...Early Morning...
Chloe dropped two sodium bicarbonate tablets into a glass of water and slid it across the counter to Oliver.
“So is this the 'in sickness and in health' part?” she teased as he downed the glass, wincing at the gritty taste and carbonation.
“Perhaps we should have added 'and through the aftermath of Bart's cooking' to our wedding vows,” he said gravely.
“None of us could have predicted that Bart would ever want to cook for you guys, let alone be this bad at it. In his defense, he meant well.”
“I'm sure he did, and it didn't taste...bad. It just apparently wasn't meant for human or metahuman consumption. I got a text from AC, both he and Victor were sick last night too. J'onn's fine but Carter's not answering his phone.” Oliver replied, looking at the clock. He needed to be on his plane in less than an hour and he still felt like crap. Nothing like a vigilante hero or a successful CEO. He suspected that he also looked like he felt – like a guy who had been sick for the last eight hours.
“Why am I not surprised?” Chloe replied, prying the lid off of a jar of Tylenol for herself.
Oliver raised an eyebrow at her. “I thought you didn't eat any. Are you sick too?”
“No, just a headache. While you guys were having your 'man night', I was stuck listening to 'Chapter 896 of the Kent/Lane Files,' from Lois' point of view. Not sure which of us got the worse end of that.”
Oliver made a face while he buttoned up his dress shirt. “Hmmm, eight hours of nausea versus three hours of Lois complaining about Clark's commitment issues. Easy choice. I can afford to buy Alka-Seltzer in bulk.”
Chloe gulped back her painkillers and stuck her tongue at him. “Next time, we switch. I get to stay here and watch action movies with the guys and you get to eat cheap Italian food and play designated driver to Drunky McMopington.”
“Now I know that wasn't in the vows,” Oliver said, looping his tie around his neck. “What's the problem this week?”
Chloe removed his used glass and replaced it with one containing orange juice. “Oh the usual, the relationship can't move forward until she feels like he's putting her first, which he isn't...yadda, yadda, yadda... By this point, I could have recited all her concerns for her in the first few minutes and we still might have had a hope of making the movie.”
“All that and you didn't even make the movie you wanted to see?” Oliver asked.
“No, not even close. Lois brought along some relationship book she found and spent most of dessert going over her take on Clark's shortcomings as a communicator.”
“Any member of the League could have done that and saved her the cover price on the book,” Oliver muttered. “You're a saint. When I get back, we'll go see that movie.”
Chloe smirked at him. “It's a British period drama. With costumes and everything. Won't you have to turn in your man card?”
Oliver leaned over the counter and kissed her. “Not if just make out in the back row the whole time.”
Chloe smiled and kissed him back. “Why don't we just stay in, order a movie here, and then we can do more than just make out?”
“You see? Compromise. We are so good at this marriage thing,” He reached over and pulled around the counter into his arms and kissed her again, this time more thoroughly, with their bodies pressed together more fully. He was both pleased and frustrated that she hadn't yet gotten dressed that morning and was wearing little more than a nightgown and thin silk robe.
He pulled back out of their kiss to check his watch over her shoulder. “If you can get dressed in the next eight minutes, you can come with me and we can finish this on the plane.”
Chloe made a familiar noise in her throat and patted his ass before breaking their embrace. “Tempting, but I can't. I have a meeting with the editor at the magazine at eleven and then I'm going to Smallville to see Martha. She invited us over for lunch, remember? She has some photos from the wedding that she wants to give us.”
“OK, too much to hope for, I guess. Tell Martha I said hi. And if you can manage it...and she has any lying around...” he trailed off, knowing she'd get his drift.
“I'll bring you back pie. I'm sure she has some set aside just for you.” Chloe said over her shoulder as she headed towards their bedroom.
“And that's why she's my second favorite female in the world,” Oliver replied, shrugging into his suit jacket. He stilled for a minute when she didn't respond. “You do realize that you're number one, right?”
“Don't be an idiot, Ollie.” Oh, she knew.
He jogged a bit to catch up with her, catching her around the waist. He picked her up and kissed her so soundly that she actually whimpered. “I have to go now,” he told her.
“I know.”
“I don't want to.” Meetings were evil, board meetings doubly so. Board meetings in Star City when his wife was in Metropolis were the eighth circle of Hell.
“I know. I don't want you to go, either. Just come back soon,” she said.
“I will, tonight, if I can.”
“And I'll be here. With pie,” she teased. “Naked and with pie.”
“We are so good at this.”
End Prologue.