--2--

"Sidekick."

Pause.

"Sidekick."

Oliver nudged her again, a playful look in his eyes. It was barely morning, the sun only just streaming through the window, and he knew that after the previous night, earlier riser or not, there was no way she was going to want to get up this early.

He wondered vaguely whether she were an early riser or a late sleeper. Something else to find out when the opportunity arose, he told himself.

He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, now.

"Sidekick."

This time Chloe at least reacted, squirming slightly, burying her head deeper into her pillow at his breath tickling her ear.

He smirked, repeating the attempt with more volume.

Her breathing changed and he knew she'd woken, even though her eyes remained carefully shut. A small moan escaped her lips.

"Chloe, come on. Get up. We have to get going."

"What are you talking about?" she grumbled almost incoherently.

"What do you mean, what am I talking about?" he asked her.

"Exactly what I said," she remarked, eyes still closed. She turned her face into the pillow.

"We have a flight to catch, you absurd woman."

"What?" her head lifted from the pillow. Now she was looking at him full on, completely attentive. "What flight?"

He rolled his eyes, trying very hard not to laugh and give himself away. He'd thought this up in the middle of the night. "Like you forgot," he said.

She stared at him like he was crazy. "Oliver, what are you on about? I have nothing today. Nothing. I had every intention of lounging in my pajamas until obscene hours and watching really bad TV all day."

He gave her a shocked look. "Did I not tell you?"

She sat up, eyes narrowing. "Tell me what?"

He glance at the clock, which read 5:30. "We have a flight to catch in one hour."

"What?" she yelled wildly.

He groaned. "I swear I told you. That scientist?" he prompted.

She just stared.

"The one Emil wanted us to meet with?"

Still nothing.

"Chloe, I swear we talked about it just a couple of days ago. The guy couldn't come here so we agreed to go see him...well, I agreed, and then I told you about it."

"Oliver!" she groaned. "You told me nothing of the kind! Oh my god!" she yelled. "I have nothing packed! Nothing!" She grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it at him.

He caught it and tossed it back at her, smirking. "Relax. Just get dressed and I'll have Bart bring your things over."

"What about you?" she demanded, rushing to her dressers to rummage for clothing.

"I have a packed bag on the plane."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course you do," she griped.

He laughed and went to her closet for her. He pulled out a blue dress he particularly liked on her and tossed it at her. "Here," he said. "Bring that."

She looked at it, an eyebrow raising.

He shrugged. "We're meeting him at a pretty nice place almost as soon as we touch down, so we're going straight there. You can change on the plane."

She nodded, tossing it on the bed.

An hour later the two of them were pulling into the airport, Oliver's private jet ready to taxi the moment they boarded.

Chloe was mildly displeased, but stopping for coffee along the way to the airport had done a lot to lighten her mood.

"What's the name of this man?" she asked Oliver, taking a seat in the cabin.

"Erm..."

"Don't you know?" she looked at him admonishingly.

He shrugged. "It was something German. It will come back to me."

"Honestly," she scoffed. "Well, I'm going to call Emil," she said, pulling out her cell.

"No!" he said a bit to loudly. She stared at him and he thought quickly. "Pilots are taking off. Cell phone will interfere with the radio tower."

Eyebrow arched in suspicion, Chloe put her cell phone away.

"Anyway," he added. "I just remembered. The guy's name is Zucker."

"And why does Emil want us to meet Herr Zucker?" Chloe asked, crossing her legs.

He sat down next to her. "Something about international relations. I don't know. I barely remember. The guys a genius or something and Emil wants us to get in his good books in case we ever need him."

"Relations, huh?" Chloe asked. "Fair enough." She looked around and Oliver felt his lips tugging into a smile. Chloe hated walking into anything without knowing all the details. She was clearly fighting the urge to get out her laptop and google the man. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Vienna."

"Really?" she looked interested.

He nodded.

"Wow."

"Why don't you get some sleep, Sidekick," he told her, hoping it would stop her from asking any more questions or from pulling out the computer. "You didn't exactly get your full eight hours last night." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her and she laughed in spite of herself.

"Entirely your fault," she accused.

"Excuse me?" he asked incredulously. "Are you going to blame me for the fact that you were baking at two in the morning?"

She grinned at him, moving over on the seat so she could spread out comfily. "No. But that would only have lost me a little over an hour of sleep. I think it's safe to say I lost a lot more to you last night." Her eyes were already closed, but there was a smug expression on her face.

Oliver swallowed tightly, her meaning perfectly clear. He, gently gave her a little extra room to sleep. Somewhere in the back of his head he found himself whining that she hadn't fallen asleep in his arms like the night before, but he reminded himself that that had been a strange occurrence. Knowing Chloe, she was currently very uncertain about where the two of them stood with each other now. He'd thrown her off course the previous night.

Baby steps. Baby steps.

He wondered with a smirk how much she'd freak out when she found out what they were really doing.

Chloe woke hours later--she couldn't be sure how many--to a pair of hands gently massaging her thighs. Groggily she muttered something, but even she wasn't sure what it was. Then she felt Oliver's lips sucking on her throat and her eyes flew open as she gasped.

He chuckled, his warm breath dancing over her skin. "Well hello, Sleeping Beauty. I was wondering how far I'd be able to get before you woke up."

Chloe laid her head back again in appreciation and Oliver moved forward to plant a kiss on her lips, which she returned readily.

"You, Mr. Queen," she said, pulling away from his mouth, tugging his lower lip as she did, "are a very bad man."

"Only a little," he smirked, hands rising slightly.

She bit his lip. "Oh?" she asked.

"I'd say I'm about 99% good. You just happen to bring out that one percent."

"Mmmm," she moaned. "Nice to know I have that kind of effect on you."

He traced kisses along her jaw, "As much as I would love to continue this," he breathed, "and I would really--" he kissed her "really love to--" Chloe's hands threaded into his hair, "I woke you up--" another kiss, "because we're going to land, and you--" he bit her ear, "need to get dressed yet."

Chloe gained enough of her senses to determine that Oliver was already in nicer clothes than he'd boarded the plane in. She groaned. "I think it's a lot more than one percent," she whined.

He smirked and gave her another kiss before pushing away from her.

Chloe went to get the dress from the back of the cabin where Oliver had hung it for her, and she couldn't help the urge to glance over her shoulder at him. He was searching through his bag for something. It took her only a moment to slip on her dress, but she found herself wondering what was going on with him. Oliver was acting more and more strangely. First sticking around last night, then forgetting to tell her about a trip, now he was being weirdly...touchy-feely? Sweet? Was that the word for it? Possibly.

She turned to find him tying a necktie and she went over to straighten it for him. His eyes weighed on her heavily, but she chose to ignore it, turning around for him to zip her dress. He pressed a chaste kiss to the back of her shoulder when he was done. She turned to find him grinning about something.

"What are you in such a good mood for?" she asked.

He shrugged.

"Uh huh."

"Can't I just be in happy because I'm in your company?" he asked, sitting her down again until the plane landed.

"You're acting so oddly." She was actually starting to wonder whether or not he were all right. Maybe he was behaving strangely because he was upset about something. She was starting to question everything that had happened the previous night. Maybe he was worried about something....Something had him seeking comfort. That was what it felt like.

He shrugged but didn't answer.

"Anything you want to tell me?" she persisted.

He frowned slightly. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Just want to make sure there isn't something going on I should know about."

He shook his head. "Well, unless you count the fact that I think you have this weird condition that causes you to bake at two in the morning," he teased.

She laughed, shoving him playfully as the plane touched down. "You are ridiculous."

"Again, not the person baking cake in the middle of the night."

"I was hungry!" Chloe argued.

"Yeah, I know," he told her, ushering her off the plane as soon as they were given the clear.

They bantered all the way to the restaurant, which was connected to a hotel called The Sacher. Oliver had a reserved table waiting for them. They sat down, Oliver pulling out her chair for her and Oliver said something in German to the waiter.

"Zwei Sachertorten, bitte."

"Nah gut. Etwas anderes?" the waiter asked.

"Nein danke."

"Etwas zu trinken?"

He looked thoughtful, then smiled slightly. "Zwei tassen Milch, bitte."

The waiter nodded. "Kein problem. Danke."

"Danke schoen."

"Bitte." The waiter left.

Chloe stared at him. "Just how many languages do you speak, anyway?" she asked, scanning the people around them with curiosity.

He chuckled. "A couple. But I only speak conversational German."

"Sounds pretty impressive to me." She glanced at her phone. "What time is he going to be here?" she asked.

"He's not."

She turned to look at him, frowning. "What?"

Oliver shrugged, smirking. "He's not coming."

"Why not?"

"Because I made him up?" Oliver suggested.

Chloe looked him up and down, trying to determine whether he'd completely lost it or not. "What on earth are we doing here?" she demanded.

At that moment the waiter returned, placing before them "zwei Sachertorten."

Chloe stared at the plate before her, shaking her head in disbelief. "Oh my God..."

Oliver looked at her smugly. "What was that?" he asked, tilting his ear to her as though he hadn't quite heard.

She threw her napkin at him. "You're insane!"

"Hey, did I promise you chocolate cake or did I promise you chocolate cake?" he asked, for yes, before them were two slices of incredibly rich, world renowned chocolate cake.

"I would have settled for cake from the diner down the street, Oliver!" she half-scolded, half laughed. "You are absurd." She stared at the cake.

"Yeah, but I promised you really good chocolate cake. This is the best chocolate cake in the world. Try it."

Chloe ignored him. "You lied."

"A white lie. Try it."

"You dragged me out of bed painfully early and flew me across an ocean."

"It was only a little early. Try it."

"And you made me leave my clothes at home and had me convinced that we were in a huge rush."

"There are clothes waiting for you in the hotel room. Eat the cake, Chloe."

"I thought I'd lost my mind because you kept telling me I'd simply forgotten about a business trip to Europe!" she almost yelled.

Oliver rolled his eyes, stabbed a bite of the cake and shoved it in her mouth.

Chloe stopped, eyes widening. "Oh my--"

"Mmhmm."

"Oh my....that's...that's...amazing!" She stared at the cake on her plate.

"Uh huh. Now tell me I'm forgiven."

"You're forgiven."

"That's what I thought."

"You're insane and ridiculous and eccentric but you're forgiven."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, eyes dancing with laughter. "I fly you to Europe and I'm insane. You bake at two in the morning and you're just hungry," he joked.

"So when are we going back home?" Chloe asked a while later after the plate had been cleaned. "You said we had a hotel room."

At this point Oliver shifted uncomfortably, but his expression swiftly returned to one of confidence. "When the weekend is over. I booked the hotel for three days."

"You really are crazy."

"Why?" he asked, amused.

She shook her head. "Well what are we going to do here for three days?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Whatever we want?"

She laughed. "We can't just take a weekend off."

"Sure we can."

"No, we can't."

"Why not?"

"Because the team needs us."

"It's called a phone...or the fastest man alive if need be."

"But..." she struggled, "but why?"

He grinned easily. "I wanted a romantic weekend with my girlfriend."

Chloe stared at him, not sure she'd heard correctly.

"Oh, come off it Chloe. We both knew where this was heading whether we cared to admit it or not."

"Well even if--" Chloe shook herself. "Regardless, what makes you think I'll let you kidnap me without telling me?"

"Because they have a spa here where you can actually get wrapped in chocolate."

Her mouth fell open.

"And because we both know you secretly think I am sexier than chocolate cake."

She said nothing.

"And because you love me," he teased.

She threw her second napkin at him. "Arrogant!"

"Yeah," he smirked, "but you love it."

"You are so full of it!" she exclaimed.

"Full of love," he teased.

"I don't believe you!"

"Fine. We'll just go upstairs where you can not believe me some more," he joked. 
"And you can continue to not believe me all weekend while we have hot sex and lots of chocolate cake," he teased.

"Pig!" she said, trying not to think about how incredibly appealing that sounded.

"Not a pig. Just a guy."

"Same thing," she smirked.

"Not quite. A pig would have taken you to a diner and a motel."

She laughed, shaking her head. "What's the difference here, besides expense?"

"You get to be pampered and I get to tell people your my girlfriend when we go home," he said simply, signing the check.

She shook her head. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Keep me forever."

"That's a long time."

"I'll give you chocolate cake everyday."

"Maybe not such a long time."

"That's what I thought."