How You Sing, Little Bird [Dinah Lance]

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Oliver sat fairly close to the stage with a double of the establishment's finest, and wondered vaguely if the sticky, cloying scent from a few of the patron's cigarette choices ever bothered the performers' lungs. There was at least one thick waft of sweet, heady cigar smoke, but it was coming from closer to the back of the bar, and Oliver had no intention of missing the show itself. 

He'd seen some of what she was wearing, and he anticipated the full effect in a way not dissimilar to the way a predator anticipates their prey at a watering ground. Oliver knew how to dress to be noticed, but he also had become fairly skilled over the past few months at being dogged, as well. 

Today was a day for not standing out at all. Hair clean, but not coifed; jeans clean, but not pressed, normal shoes--not leather or looking new (definitely worn in). A grungy grey button-down that was wash-and-wear over a plain, thin hunter green T-shirt. 

No jewelry. A bit of five-o-clock shadow. And Oliver Queen, the ridiculously rich, entirely prissy, once-missing playboy, became---to put it quite simply--unremarkable... but there was that dangerous edge. The dangerous edge came with him from the island. It was a look in his eyes that never quite went away. Sharp. Hunting.


Predatory.


Dinah meant something to Oliver. He wanted to make sure she was being respected at work. And he wanted to hear her sing. He sipped the entirely unremarkable drink that matched his so-clothed appearance, and waited for her to come to the stage. The anticipation was almost exciting. Made Oliver question civility. 

But she would leave with him tonight. And that made all the difference. 

And no one--- no one--- would stop him. 

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Dinah was on shortly after Oliver had gotten there. Cute outfits that were revealing but still left you wanting to see more. It was specially designed with her body in mind.

She hadn't been working there for long, in fact she was still a little jittery when she got on stage being that she knew she couldn't get too loud or else she could hurt people. It was a good balancing act really.

She didn't notice Oliver through most of her performance. In fact she didn't even see him until her last song. She should have thought it was stranger, the glint in his eyes nearly wolf like as he stared up at her. She wasn't though, through the red roses glasses of a girl in love she just saw him. Sang to him in fact.

Afterward she went to go to the dressing room she had to relax and get into her next costume for the next show. She didn't expect that Ollie would come to see her.

As she looked over her shoulder in the mirror she smiled up to him before bouncing up to give him a hug, jumping up wrapping her arms around his neck. "You came," she said happily.

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He nuzzled her neck slightly, embracing her lithe form and enveloping her with himself.

"Of course I did. I promised I would, didn't I?" He murmured into her ear, his hand roamed down the middle of her back, have her ass a bit of a squeeze.

"You're damn good out there, you know that?" He informed her, stealing a proper, dirty kiss. A reminder-- who she was going home with. Who ... Cared ... About her. And that was him.

Only him. Not some slack jawed drug addicted prick. They couldn't afford her. And he intended on making sure he kept her. Not necessarily on a short leash-- she was easy.

He just needed her undivided attention to be on him where it mattered. Like here and now.

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Dinah kissed him again as she sat inside of his arms. She felt protected in that moment like the world around her couldn't get her if he continued to hold her like this. "Are you staying for the whole night or are you going after this?" She asked him as he gave her another kiss.

It was cute how he was being. He must have really like the outfit.

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"I think I'll stay. I just wanted to come back and say hey," he informed her.

"Maybe take you to get something to eat after..? You're going to work up an appetite up there." He teased, giving her another squeeze, not yet letting her out of the embrace.

"When do you have to be back out there?" He asked, placing a kiss to the center of the hollow of her throat.

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"Soon," she muttered a hum at the back of her throat. His lips hot against her skin made her excited pretty quickly. She had never seen him like this before. He seemed so interested in her and her only, it felt good. It made the fact that they were in a relationship mean more, she felt less worried that he'd lose interest and move on with the way he was acting now.

"Maybe fifteen minutes?" She added after a few moments questioning if that was enough time.

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Fifteen minutes was enough time, and he made quick and passionate work of it, no moment wasted. Every touch was strong, deliberate, and needy. Every breath taken carefully. She was his. Only his.

Oliver Queen did not like to share.

Dinah Lance would be his; and he would not let anyone else have her. Not for a second. There wasn't much time, but he made the most of it; every bit of it.

Every ounce of her.

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Dinah didn't have much time to get dressed and fix her make up as he took every moment that he could before she was back on. He took his time in righting himself grabbing at her, kissing her. "I can't do that again. I don't want to get fired," she gave him another kiss as she let him zip her up. "I love you Ollie but I have to go to the stage. A few more hours and we can go to dinner okay?"

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"Go," he told her, stealing one more kiss, "I'll be back out there, watching. Sing your heart out, babe," He grinned to her.

He wouldn't see her fired. He knew better. He ducked out to head back to his table and get himself another drink, so he could continue to watch and enjoy her singing. It was well worth it. And well worth catching her backstage.

She looked much more radiant. and for the most part--his attention was placed solely on her. The occasional glance around the room to make sure no one was drooling too much, paired with the cockiness in knowing that he had her.

Fully.
His.

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Dinah finished the night and bade everyone goodnight before she headed outside. She had forgotten her jacket so as she went from the warm interior of the bar to the cooler outdoors she shivered looking up to Oliver. "So where are we going this late at night?" She asked him as she moved to lean into him and accept his warmth.

It still hadn't dawned on her that she had told him that she loved him earlier. When she realized it she would worry that she may have scared him away.

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He wrapped his arms around her as they walked towards his car.

"Somewhere." He said, grinning brightly. "In the mood for anything specific?" He asked curiously. There was a place for everything, here.


And he intended, at the least, to keep his precious little bird happy; to keep her oblivious to her cage.

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"I'm so in the mood for meat. I would love a steak," she hummed thoughtfully, "and fries with as strawberry shake," she advised him. "I don't care where as long as it's good." She explained as she stood on her toes to kiss his cheek.

No, Dinah didn't know how he felt about her. She assumed he felt as she did. Like this was right and that it was mutual. There didn't need to be cages as she didn't need anyone else.

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Oliver was oblivious to the lack of need; it was a blatantly possessive streak brought on by the psychological fuckery of the island. Intending on keeping someone could make things very unlikely and misfortunate.

He needed her. He needed to keep her. But he couldn't tell from love and lust; love and sin; love and desire; love and need. He thought he loved her. He would tell her that he loved her. He wouldn't even hesitate to that end.

For him, it was real, but he had to fight to keep it. All potential threats to the sanctity of this relationship had to be dealt with in a swift and orderly fashion.

Oliver needed Dinah.

She covered up all that was disturbingly disillusioned and wrong in him. She was a beautiful cover to covet, and he was guilty of loathsome amounts of covetousness in regards to little Dinah Lance. Even when she was a teenager, and he was much too old for her. Thoughts of her, all grown up...

It was like a very perfect little present. All wrapped up in the taught muscles of her thighs, the flaxen shimmer of her hair, the seemingly endless depth of her eyes... Like she had grown up just for him.

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Oliver helped Dinah into the car, getting in himself. He shifted the car into gear before he reached over and touched her face. This was a good night.

"You coming to stay the night with me tonight?" Either at her place or if he wanted they could stay at his place. She smiled up to him. She took in a breath as she considered how much he cared. She was sure he loved her even though he didn't say it to her.

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"I'd quite like that," He said, smile going from pleasant to full grin.

He took her the only late-hour steakhouse he knew of; a usually reservation only sort of place, but a table was swiftly provided with a winning smile and a little palm greasing, out of the lady's line of sight. They got a nice table in the back, where it was more intimate, and he took her hand in his, let his thumb happily brush across her slender fingers, her knuckles.