Not A Dinner Date

November 05, 2015:

Jemma and Oliver have a moment that doesn't involve dinner.

New York

Oliver's Penthouse Office

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Early evening in New York. In the skyscraper that houses Queen Consolidated's New York branch, Oliver is over by the windows, looking out over the city, fairly lost in thought. There's been a lot to sort through in the past couple of weeks, and a part of that was just invited up for a chat. Even though it's afterhours, the security guards will be there to escort Jemma up when she arrives and show her to the office.

Having received a text asking her to meet with him, Jemma had finished up the experiment she was working on, made some notes and then headed over to his office. He'd asked to meet her there and … it had sounded important.

After being shown to Olivers office, she enters and looks around "Oliver? You asked to see me?"

"You know, I was so mad at my father for picking New York." Oliver says with a mild chuckle. "When he purchased this place." Turning around to face her, he looks like he's been lost in thought for a while as he comes over towards her. It's everything she should expect from a major business owner's office. Leather chairs, aquarium, nice desks, excellent view. "I wanted Metropolis. The city of tomorrow. You know, expected to see the heroes of our youth zooming or flying around. You don't get that in New York. It's all cramped, and crowded, I complained. I was only ten at the time."

Coming over to her, he slips his hands into hers, if she allows, and gives her a small squeeze. She may feel that he doesn't have a billionaire's hands. They're rough, calloused, showing the signs of lack of proper care from years alone. "Will you please come sit with me? Would you like some water? Or tea?"

"And now…?" Simmons asks about Olivers feelings about New York. That's an interesting way to start the conversation. She will allow Ollie to take her hands briefly, she's a little concerned for his state of mind … and she's noted the hands - but she's the back as well… she knows Ollie is slightly more than he seems.

"Yes, I'll sit with you. You said you wanted to talk." Of course, she could just remain standing. "Tea, please. Black, no sugar." She's british, would he expect anything else?

He seems mostly find, just thoughtful. As he releases her hands, he goes to pour her some tea. "It's a herbal blend, so it might not be quite what you're used to." He makes himself a cup as well so she doesn't worry about whether or not he's drugging her as he brings over the small service and takes a seat and comes back around to her question.

"It's all close together. It's comforting, knowing that there's something so near that you can touch it. You find comfort with it, and security." he admits as he looks over towards her, patting the couch so she can sit. Taking up his glass, he folds his hands around it and sips deeply.

"Sort of like having a small circle of friends - those that you can trust with nearly anything. And once in a while, they tell you to follow your gut - to trust someone else." he glances up, and gives her a faint smile. "Jemma. You already know I'm interested." he admits finally. "I mean.. you're a really attractive woman, you're down to earth, practical, and not afraid of much of anything - including those things that you stood up to on our first date. I couldn't help but to admire you."

"Herbal is fine. Agent May often has interesting blends, too." blends that Jemma often stocks up in her lab - May doesn't mind the bio-chem raiding her stash. Taking a seat on the couch, giving them both room, Jemma takes up her own cup and lets the aroma envelope her as she listens to Ollie speak.

"You barely know me, Oliver!" and then she blushes at the compliments, they were right? Shaking her head "I'm a SHIELD agent, of course I was going to stand up to them." even if she's not a field agent, she's got training - and more training than the average joe "but thank you for saying that."

Falling silent, she waits for him to continue - the talk of 'gut-feel' and being interested … seems to be leading somewhere.

"I know, but there are those that have known you longer than me." Oliver smirks. That should be a give-away, he's been talking to Felicity. "When I was a kid, I used to imagine I was Robin Hood. You know, travelling Sherwood, rescuing Maid Marien, fighting the Sheriff, all of that fun stuff. Even had a toy bow and arrow kit." he chuckles.

"I must have broken and put together that thing a million times. I was always trying to make my own arrows, because the little wooden ones with the suckers on it were always breaking. I learned how to flechette, carve, bend the wood, everything I needed to know to make my own bow."

"It's what saved me after the shipwreck left me alone." he admits. "After I gained my senses and established shelter - I made my own bow and arrows. I hunted with it, I fished with it. Part me tried to imagine it was like I had found my own real-life Sherwood."

He sips from his tea. "Then I was found. Beaten. Battered, probably shouldn't have been alive. Five years had past, and the world had gone on without me. And I found that I didn't fit in with that life anymore. I know - you know the stories. Playboy, couldn't stay in school to save my life. Drunk, wild, all of that. All of that had to be washed away because I got the ultimate sober up program. Lost my father and nearly my own life in one fell swoop."

Jemma hasn't known Felicity all that long either - but the two women had hit it off, but she smiles faintly at that admission, blushing again. People speaking about her! The Robin Hood story gets a chuckle though "I think everyone I know had a similar thing, growing up. Robin Hood is a very romantic notion… robbing from the rich, giving to the poor… " It's understandable to her.

As the rest of his story unfolds, she sips her tea slowly and listens, nodding at appropriate points. "Yes, I know the stories." that's all she says. The media has their own way of putting a spin on things.

"Try explaining that to your father, when you're the one that's rich already." Oliver chuckles a little. Looking down at his hands, he lets out a sigh. "I know that it's probably overwhelming, you know - that I have all those damn stories. Some are true, some aren't.. but I seriously want to you know.. give this a shot. You're not a fling of the week, or just some flight of fancy. I don't know. I get the feeling that the reason why you're holding on so tight to the reins is that you're afraid that you're going to wake up in bed and realize it was all just to get in your pants. And I'm not that guy. He did die on that island. I mean.. I made my fair share of mistakes since then - and perhaps I've grabbed on too tightly and let go too soon. But before you know, I ask you out again, I just want to make sure that any fears you may have are set aside."

"Oh!" Jemma now blushes more furiously. She had totally not considered that to be his motivation. Seriously? Why would someone like Oliver Queen want to do that … with her? Fling of the week? When had she ever been a candidate for that!

"Have you considered, Oliver…" Jemma glances down at her cup and then back up to him "that maybe I just want to take things slowly? Become friends … and then see if anything else comes of it?" It might be an old fashioned notion, but … there it is. "And then … there's my work. As you've seen, I'm dangerous to be around … at the moment." and maybe for a while, too "and maybe I'm being careful so you don't get caught up in that."

As to asking her out again? She'd already said yes the last time … he just has to let her know when and where.

"I think it's more the other way around. At least you can see your enemies." Oliver points out. "The attack on the lab in Star City was no accident." he finally admits with a sigh. "I appreciate you wanting to protect me, but I can take care of myself, you know." he gives her a little smile. "But you're right.. if you want to go slow, that's fine." he finishes his tea and moves to stand up. "I.. I just wanted to make sure that the air was clear, Jemma. I didn't know how you felt.. so I just wanted to talk."

He goes to stand next to the window again, leaning against it to look down at the city below. "Feels like I'm still on that island, sometimes. Just it moved with me to a sea of constantly moving lights."

"Well yes, there's that." Jemma admits a little sheepishly about his enemies. "And it was only a small consideration, protecting you." another admission. Watching as he walks to the window, she finishes her tea herself and puts the cup on the table "I'd say the air was clear now." the words are murmured "How so?" the question in response to his last statement.

"Eh, I'm just waxing poetic, Jemma." Oliver says with a laugh before he turns his attention back to the young woman. "So, there's all this information about me - what about you? You're British, or you have one of the best accent coaches I've ever heard." he comments with a grin. "I feel like we should be playing twenty questions or something to get to know each other better."

Jemma smiles shyly as he turns back to her. "Yes, I'm British. I was born and grew in Devon." Patting the couch next to her, she invites him to sit back down. "I've got a little time this evening, if you do…"

Clearly she's interested enough to talk.

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