Oliver Queen (Smallville) - Oneshot
You weren’t sure why Clark insisted on pairing you up with him. He was quite literally the most irritating person you’d ever met.
You really thought that it would just be villains and common criminals you had to worry about. But apparently the death of you might actually be this pansy talking your ear off.
“So Murdock seriously, level with me, is it echolocation? You’re blind, how are you more agile than me?”
Your frown just deepened as you moved through the building. Lois had a tip about smugglers. Clark was tackling the docks to deal with the shipment while you and Oliver took the warehouse.
Titling your head, your hand pressed to the wall and Oliver froze. Lifting your arm, you threw your stick behind him. He turned, just in time to hear the grunt of another criminal hit the floor unconscious.
“Nice.”
You just sigh, walking over to retrieve your weapon.
“Stop talking.” You growled.
Not only was he agitating you, but it was hard to hone in when he wouldn’t stop ranting. His heart was also deafening. Once you picked up your stick, you stopped right in front of him.
“Woah, what’s the deal, we’re on a mission. Are you really trying to get it on in a criminal base?” you could hear the stupid smirk in his voice.
“Why are you always talking and why the hell is your heart beating so fast? I can’t think.”
“W-What do you mean it’s beating fast?”
You really didn’t have time for this. Walking around him, you kept on task. There were at least a half dozen people in the building still.
Conscious at least.
You paused when you got to another door. Your intention was to reach for the knob, but your hand stopped.
“Why are we stopping?”
“Hush.”
“Come on, you can tell me, let me in on the plan.”
“Be quiet.”
“This whole brooding thing is getting kind of old don’t you think.”
“Damn it shut up I-”
You flinched when you heard the click of a gun. You barely had a second to react. Pushing Oliver out of the way, it struck your right in the shoulder. Your body hit the floor with a thud, and Oliver reacted immediately. You heard the whizzing of three arrows, followed by cries of pain. He’d turned back to help you, but you were already on your feet, pissed. Rushing forward, you kicked the door that you initially planned to open in.
The wooden base broke and you dove inside, taking out the last three men that were struggling to draw their guns. They didn’t have a chance. The first punch took down one of them and the other two, well, let’s just say the bullet in your shoulder was the last straw. You kicked the feet of the man before you right from under him and his friend barely got a hit in. With a harsh blow to his jaw, he was on the ground.
Oliver stepped inside, looking around, no doubt taking in the arsenal they had. You could smell the gunpowder, as well as the plaster, no doubt for bomb making.
You were huffing, and Oliver approached.
“Hey, you’re bleeding pretty bad.”
“Call the cops Queen.”
He understood why you might have been annoyed. He just nodded, bounding the criminals as he made the call.
Clark had tied up on his side pretty quickly, so he raced over, especially after Oliver told him of your predicament. Now you were back at headquarters, refusing treatment.
“It’s just a bullet wound.”
“Just and bullet wound should not be in the same sentence.” Emil argued.
It took a bit of convincing for them to get you on a bed so he could remove the bullet. The entire time Clark stood at the entrance of the door, glancing at Oliver’s guilty expression.
“It was my fault.”
“Oliver, it’s nobody’s fault. We knew it would be dangerous.”
Oliver shook his head.
“That’s not what I meant. She kept asking me to be quiet and what do I do, talk her ear off.”
The little groan you released made them look over.
Emil had just got the bullet, dropping it into the metal bowl.
“The worst is over.”
He had a bandage pressed to your shoulder, gloves dirtied with blood.
“We’re going to stitch you up, good as new.”
You nod.
“Thanks Doc.”
He just smiled.
“Anytime.”
With Emil’s skill it didn’t take long for you to be up and moving. Clark had graciously dropped you back to your apartment and instructed that you take some time off. You knew how stubborn he was, so arguing was out of the question. You took the needed time, but instructed Clark to keep you updated on any other missions they would be heading out on.
Your first week, well you stuck to your actual day job as a lawyer. That evening as you got home, you weren’t surprised at the hero sitting on your couch.
“Breaking and entering is a crime Oliver.”
“What! See you need to tell me how you do that?”
He stood and you moved to your kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. Leaning your cane on the counter, you searched for a cup as you fired a retort at his question.
“You reek of expensive cologne. Being rich must be fun.”
He’s probably wearing a grin.
“I mean, it does have its perks.”
“I can almost feel my bullet wound opening up talking to you.”
It was a jab, you hadn’t been serious, but you caught the way his heartbeat changed and it made you pause.
“Oliver?”
“Yeah, sorry, still here.”
He didn’t sound as peppy as he did a few moments ago. It became apparent that he might have been feeling responsible for your injury.
“Listen, I was just joking. It doesn’t even hurt anymore. I’ve literally been stabbed more than a dozen times and gotten more gunshots that you could probably count. I’ll live.”
He knew you were right, but everything about the wound was indeed his fault.
“So, since you’re benched because of me, I feel like the least I can do is help you out. Whatever you need, help showering, I got you.”
Oliver winked and you rolled your eyes.
“I was shot, I’m not disabled Oliver.”
“You do realize how ironic that statement is, right?”
Suddenly you wished you’d let him take the bullet.
“You were just wishing I got shot instead right?”
“I’m out of groceries, make yourself useless and get me food.”
Oliver saluted.
“Yes ma’am!”
At the time, you realized he was just trying to apologize in his own way.
That’s why the weeks that followed he kept dropping by. It was actually kind of nice. Clark refused to let you back until you had at least a month’s worth of rest, so for the time being you were pretty much on bed rest. At least he thought so. You weren’t jumping over buildings, sure, but you weren’t sitting at home on the couch either.
“I’m pretty sure Clark said rest.”
Oliver strolling into the boxing gym was a bit of a surprise. You lowered your hands, steadying the punching bag. It came to a halt and Oliver leaned on the beam.
“Couldn’t stay away?”
You just wiped the sweat from your brow.
“I’m not exactly known for my knitting.”
“Hah, good one. I see you’ve been working on your comedic skills. Really, I’m impressed.”
You finally dropped your hands, reaching for the wraps, slowly rolling them off your knuckles.
“Something new happened?”
Oliver shook his head as you moved to the bench to grab your bottle of water.
“Not really. We’ve busted drug dealers on the south side of town but other than that it’s been quiet. Chloe went to New York to see your friend Castle about the Russian problem. We found a few of their men in Metropolis, she figured they were trying to expand their business.”
“I’d hardly call her a friend. I hope you guys know Frankie is a shoot first ask question later type of person.”
“Chloe told me the same thing. I guess she’s hoping to get on Frankie’s good side. Hopefully Chloe will bat her eyes and Frankie will stand down, at least for a while.”
“Good luck with that.”
Lifting the bottle, you guzzle the liquid. You hadn’t realized how thirsty you really were. You’d been going at it for a while now. Lowering the bottle, you exhale, rolling your shoulder.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just stiff. I was sitting around last week. Now I have to work out the kinks”
You place the bottle, turning to head back, but Oliver is now blocking your way.
“You should probably take it easy.”
You raise a brow.
“You’re starting to sound like Clark. Since when are you mr. careful.” Your intention is to walk around him, but he takes your wrist softly.
“Please just...I don’t want you to get hurt. Not again.”
There’s a pain in his voice that is unlike him. Oliver is typically the laid back one. Always running around making stupid jokes, even when he’s in a bind. But now he’s almost pleading. Something about his voice does make you stand down. You swallow.
“Okay, I’ll call it a day.”
You take in the relieved sigh he lets out. It’s quiet, but you’re more than a little observant.
“How about dinner, my treat.”
You’re not one to turn down a meal, especially since it feels like he needs this. An assurance that you will indeed take a rest.
“I like Chinese.”
He smiles.
“I can do that.”
As requested, you both had dinner. He ordered a few of everything. That night, it was nice. You hadn’t really expected it to become a regular thing. But you weren’t complaining.
Those little meetings kept happening, right up till the last week of your little sabbatical.
Oliver was giving you a briefing as he’s gearing up. The both of you had been coming back from an Italian place when Clark called. More than anything you wanted to be out there with them, but Clark had all but sped over and you could just feel the look he was sending.
“Fine, I won’t go. But next week I’m back in, whether you like it or not.”
“I think I can live with that.” Clark responded. You sent him a smile and Oliver glanced over.
A sting of jealousy hit him at how easy it always felt when you were with Clark. You followed him without fail and you rarely ever went against his advice.
Kind of like right now.
“Hate to break this up but we have criminals to catch.” He butted in. Clark nodded, turning back to you.
“Need a lift back.”
“Actually that would be nice.”
You expected him to take you by the shoulder, that’s why you closed up your cane. When Clark stepped over he picked you up. Your hands were on his shoulder in surprise and he just grinned.
“Hold on.”
In a blink he was gone and Oliver glared at the wall.
“Oh, just hold on. I’m all muscular and strong and fast. Want a ride in my dreamy arms.” Oliver grumbled sarcastically.
It felt petty, but he couldn’t help it.
The very day you were off the metaphoric bench, he felt obligated to visit you. It was a quiet night, so he knew you would be a bit antsy. When he stepped in, it looked like you were about to start cooking. He saw the grocery bag in one hand, cane in the other.
“How’s it feel to be back in the game?”
“I’m not sure, are you going to be a pain in the ass when I get back?”
He lifted his hands.
“Nope, scout’s honor.”
“Mhmmm.”
You didn’t believe a word.
Placing the bag down, you were searching for your phone. Your fingers graced the counter and you felt the device a few meters away. Moving to the wall, you place your cane down as you grab your phone on the way back, slipping it into your pocket.
“Back at that little criminal base when we were casing the place, you asked me a question.”
You lift your head at Oliver’s words.
“What question? As I recall I asked you to stop talking.”
Oliver smiled. He took a step forward. You were still trying to make sense of his statement. The closer he got, the more you seem to internalize his heart rate. It was hammering, and it’s then you seem to remember exactly what he’s referring to.
“You asked me why my heart was beating so fast.”
His words were said a bit softly and you were overly conscious of how much closer he was now. You aren’t sure why you feel a sense of nervousness.
“Oliver I-”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
You can hear every movement, so you could have easily moved away when he leaned in, but you couldn’t get your body to do a thing. His lips pressed to your cheek and you swore that your heart nearly jumped. He finally pulled back, and you can almost hear his smile.
“Good night (Y/N).”
You’ve known from the start that this guy would be a pain in your side, now it seems that you were right, but for a completely different reason. You just stand there blushing as he leaves.
He definitely did that on purpose.