Title: Amending a Contract
Category: Smallville
Genre: PG13
Ship: Chloe/Oliver
Rating: Romance/Drama/Humor
Prompt: #07 – The Skeleton in the Closet
Spoilers: 9x14 - Conspiracy
Word Count: 3,153
Summary: After Chloe's embezzlement is out and explained, she and Oliver have a few things to clear up.

Amending a Contract
-1/1-

Booty call. The term stuck uncomfortably in her mind; an ache she didn't expect spiraling out of her control. So casual, so meaningful; she knew he said it to hurt her. Some part of her couldn't blame him; her dirty secret was out and anybody looking at it from his view would assume the worst. Lumping her in with the women of his past stung, until she took it for what it was. He had separated her until she'd seemingly proven him wrong. At least in this case, he had allowed her to be innocent until proven guilty. And wasn't it just due justice that Mercer was the one who outed her? With a scowl, she shook her head at the devious mind working an angle over on her. She should've seen this coming.

Standing in the watch tower, she tried to focus her skills on the here and now rather than the earlier events that put her in such a sour mood. Things between her and Oliver were on shaky ground; they'd never named what they were to each other and already they'd had their first miscommunication. Was it her fault? Partly. Then again, she might blame it on her past with men and their lack of reliability. Every time the all too hopeful Chloe Sullivan put her heart in someone's hands or her trust in their instincts, she got herself in deeper trouble than before. One might start to wonder just how deep the pit of trouble went because she had to be reaching the other side soon.

With the comforting beeping and data web spinning all around her, she could almost convince herself she was okay. They'd only been together two weeks; fourteen days of impromptu dalliances where he would arrive and sweep her off her feet. Booty call. It all came back with a sharp pang to her chest. Chloe Sullivan had never been and would never be a damn booty call, and he knew it. When they started this thing between them it had been in the name of fun, of seeing what was right in front of them, and she had decided she wouldn't force it but allow it to grow on its own. And like the usual house of cards that made up her great many bad decisions, it came tumbling down on top of her head.

There had been no apologies, not really. She'd explained, even showed him, and he'd taken the information into consideration, even going so far as to move her goods before his ever-so-conniving Mercy could get her grubby little hands on them. Thankful was a possibility, forgiving was unlikely, but guilt was still on the teeter totter of her decision making. Did she feel bad for lying to him? Of course. If she had to do it all over again, would she? A very firm and definite yes. Trust was earned and she'd told Oliver before that while she believed in him and would stand at his back, he had a lot to make up for.

And still, it ate at her.

Since coming back into the fold, Oliver had been nothing but worthy of her trust; he had held out his hand and beckoned her to join him in his endless search for justice. Like the hero she'd always been, she took it and she made sure they kept at their hard-earned work. He hadn't let her down, didn't make her feel like she was wrong in dragging him from the gutter, and even in times she second guessed their band of misfit heroes, he kept her spirits up. While she saved him that day so long ago, it seemed he was still trying to pay her back by helping her ever since. And this was how she repaid him. Embezzlement; theft; a mirror of women from his past who saw the dollar sign.

It made her sick inside, as much as she hated to admit it.

For the greater good; a backup plan to save mankind. There was a mile long list of reasons for why she had those weapons built, but only one reason for why she didn't tell him.

Fear.

Fear of trusting him and being wrong; fear of loving him and not being loved back. It all came back to that same end, didn't it? Chloe would always be a woman in need; the one looked over for someone else; the woman whose heart was expected to break and bounce back. She looked at the future Lois had seen; she saw who she became and she didn't want to be her; she didn't want to be that jaded and hurt Chloe. But already, with the sun still yellow, she could see herself fading into her. And the only person keeping her from it was the one person she had already lied to, had already put the relationship in jeopardy of never finding its true beginning.

Her eyes blurred, stung, and she wanted to push it back, but tears clung to her lashes, refusing to abate.

"Somebody break your firewall or should I break out the ice cream?" a voice called from behind her, recognizing the hunch of her shoulders and the shaking of her mouth.

She whirled, surprised to find he had gotten inside without her knowing. All this security and he could get in whenever he pleased. It should've pissed her off but a laugh escaped her, tearful eyes rolling as if it was all she could expect.

"As if anybody could break a Sullivan firewall," she sniffed.

He walked toward her, brown eyes wandering from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, as if he expected to see a reason imprinted on her body for her tears. "Not a blonde hair out of place and no limp in sight…" He looked around the room. "There a murderer hiding in the closet I don't know about?"

She pursed her lips. "Nope. Not even the skeletons are there anymore since they've vacated on early release." Turning her eyes up, she returned to staring at her computers, blinking violently and trying to force the shake of her body to lessen. It was useless.

Silently, he stepped up behind her; warm, large hands enveloping her shoulders and squeezing.

The jaded her wanted to shrug him off, to walk away and ignore the obvious elephant in the room. But the last bit of a heartfelt Chloe leaned into to the touch; the comfort.

His hand slid up her neck, knuckles grazing her skin. How was it a man she knew so well, through his ups and downs, good times and bad, could make her feel like she was weightless, like she was a flawless and worthy person? His thumbs brushed the tears that escaped down her cheeks, rubbing the trails from her skin before cupping her chin and turning her face back toward him. With his head tipped to one side, he stared at her wonderingly. "You wanna share with the class, Professor, or do I have to break out the 20 Questions?"

After everything, after her lies and his hurt, he still looked like he wanted nothing more than to make her feel better. It only made her feel worse. Her façade crumbled and the tears rushed, her shoulders falling. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, shaking her head.

"Hey…" he sighed, gathering her into his arms and tucking her face against his chest. "Cry all you want, this shirt's only Versace."

She laughed, slapping his shoulder gently. "You're a jerk!"

He rubbed her back, his chin resting lightly on her head. "That's not the worst I've been called, so I'll take it." His arms squeezed her waist. "But if we've fallen into name calling and that's the best you've got, this'll be a pretty pathetic chapter in our story."

Sighing, she hitched her hands around his waist, thumbs sliding back and forth along his sides. "Is there still a story?" she finally asked, annoyed with how meek she sounded.

His head slid back and she leaned her own away so she could see his face.

"You think one little embezzlement scandal is gonna rock us off our unusual path, Sidekick?" he wondered, lifting a brow.

Any other time, she might've mocked that arrogant look of his. "I lied to you," she admitted, frowning. "I stole money for you." Sighing, she stepped away from him, needing that space to center herself. Wiping at her face hastily, she shook her head. "Was it for a good cause? In my mind, yes. We can't be sure of the future and the one we do know of isn't exactly a Blockbuster of happy endings. But maybe…" She licked her lips, turning her eyes away. "Maybe I should've rethought the way I went about it."

He nodded slowly, pursing his lips in that way that said 'duh, I already knew that.' "Maybe?"

She frowned. "All right, look… Trust isn't a good friend of mine; in fact, we're pretty estranged lately. And when I came up with my dashing back-up plan, I thought I had to do it on my own."

"With my company's money," he added emotionlessly.

She winced. "Unfortunately, by Fortune 500 club card expired."

He tucked his hands in his pockets, waiting for her to continue.

"So I thought maybe I could skim a little off a few of your companies, nothing so massive it would do any damage. I expected when all was said and done, we would have what we need and it wouldn't be a problem…" Her eyes found the floor in an uncharacteristic show of shame.

"We," he repeated.

Brow furrowed, she looked up at him wonderingly.

He stepped toward her slowly. "You said we would have what we needed… But there was no 'we' when you took the money or when you had the weapons built." He shook his head. "All you had to do was ask…" A sad smile split his lips. "I would've given you anything you wanted."

She swallowed tightly, a flow of tears warming her eyes once more. "I know," she admitted.

"Then why?" He reached across, tipped her chin so she would have to look at him. "Why?"

Blinking rapidly, she bit her lip. "Because then I would have to trust you… I'd have to believe you would come through, that you would understand me and what I was doing."

His jaw twitched. "Don't I always?"

Shaking, from her toes to her chin, she knew the truth. "Yes."

"So what now?" His hand slid away. "I turn a blind eye when you go on your secret missions of saving the world without me?"

She grit her teeth. This was what he needed, what she needed; either full disclosure or none at all. She knew it was coming and still it rocked her. The moment of truth; the question and answer that would define them.

Did she trust him, trust them, or did she go on in her one-woman army to save the world from a future they both didn't want.

"No." Her brows furrowed in serious decision. "From now on… I tell you everything."

"Everything?" He cocked a meaningful brow.

"Well I think letting you in on bathroom breaks is a little much, but on the big stuff…" She sighed, a smile curving her lips. "You deserve my trust, Oliver, and I'm sorry I didn't know that sooner."

He grinned slowly. "Some of us are slower on the uptake," he teased lightly.

With a snort, she rolled her eyes. "Hey, you're the one who assumed I was only interested in the dollar signs, Queen. So maybe I'm not the only one with trust issues."

His smile turned solemn. "I'll admit…" he mused. "When I first saw the figures, I knew it was you and some part of me expected the worst…" He stared at her. "But I came to you and I asked you straight out rather than jump to conclusions."

Pursing her lips, she stepped toward him and reached, fingers curling around the lapels of his jacket. "If I remember correctly, that meeting of the minds was you telling me you weren't there for a booty call but an answer to Mercer's latest attempt to dig you a grave." She lifted a brow, staring up at him with narrowed eyes. "So the next time you feel like stopping in to see me, I suggest rethinking your approach." She winked, letting him go to walk past him in hopes of finding her kitchen and something to sooth the stomach she just realized was running on empty. Maybe she'd been brooding over a certain billionaire a little too long.

He caught her arm before she could get too far, turned her so they were staring at each other once more.

"My choice of words weren't the best," he admitted, nodding apologetically. "I was…"

"Hurt? Angry? Lacking a certain level of trust in your new—" She stopped suddenly, her word play had run out. There was nothing to end that other than perhaps lover. Friends didn't encompass them anymore, teammates was off base, but girlfriend hadn't been labeled either.

His lips curled in a smirk. "My new…?" He waved his hand, mocking her to continue.

Rolling her eyes, she tugged her arm to get free and leave once more. He wasn't so forgiving that he let her this time either.

"Hold on there, Nameless Wonder." Sliding his fingers down her arm, he took her hand. "Is this your less than charming way of asking what we are?"

She sniffed indelicately. "If I wanted to know, I'd be the one helping in that definition." Pursing her lips, she tipped her head. "We haven't defined it and I'm not complaining."

"But it bugs you," he deduced, staring at her thoughtfully. "We're more than friends but less than exclusive."

"Are we?" she murmured.

He blinked, frowning. "I don't know. I haven't been socializing with anyone since we started… Have you?"

A smile bloomed slowly. "And if I had?"

She was rewarded with a flash of indignation before he covered it quickly. "I guess I wouldn't have any right to interfere, would I?"

Free hand falling to her hip with a haughty finesse, she shook her head. "I guess not."

His jaw twitched, eyes turning away. "So these skeletons in your closet don't only include embezzlement but boyfriends, too?"

A light laugh bubbled from her throat. "Careful Ollie, that favorite color of yours doesn't always look good on you."

Licking his lips, he smirked. "Touche."

With a nod, she shrugged. "I have my moments."

Swiping a thumb along her palm, he tugged her hand, drawing her closer to him. "So in this verbal contract we made… I think we left a few details out."

"Mm… Must've been a mix-up in between making sure that bow and arrow of yours was put away properly and you tearing my shirt off…"

He grinned. "I said I'd buy you a new one."

She chuckled lightly. "Besides the point… Now back on topic, Queen, or are you getting distracted?"

Close enough that he could wrap his arm around her waist, he tugged her top free of the confines of her pants and slid his palm along her curved spine, arrogantly pleased when she arched for him, a breathless gasp escaping her lips. "Article one, an amendment… This is exclusive. No other guys; hero or not." Leaning down, his lips were so close she could feel his breath skittering across her own. But as much as she wanted for that kiss that would leave her toes curling and her insides twisting, he bypassed her mouth, lips grazing her cheek before hovering at her ear. "You're all mine," he murmured, his arm tightening at her waist in a show of possessive heat.

"Two way street," she murmured, her hands sliding up his back, fingers splaying along hard shoulder blades that flexed with masculine strength.

He chuckled, drawling lowly, "As if anybody else could compare when I have you."

Her eyes fluttered, her heart lurching in her chest, hope blooming all too quickly.

"Amendment two?" she breathed.

"Like you said before; no more secrets… of any kind." His hand slid up her front, unbuttoning with deliberately slow ease. "We're all in, under every circumstance."

She nodded shakily, chewing her lip as his fingers spread out, hand pausing as the crests of her breasts.

"And lastly…" He dragged her shirt free, hands swamping her shoulders and tugging her back so they were eye to eye. "This… Us… We're the beginning…" He stared searchingly into her eyes; a full, warm grin forming as he realized she knew, she understood, and she accepted it.

The beginning of trust, of the future, of a love neither of them had truly known or experienced before.

She swallowed; her reservations, fears, that last bit of jaded callousness that would no doubt keep her from it, from him.

Hands gliding up her neck, his fingers buried in her hair, tipped her head back and held her steady as he brought his mouth close enough that she could already feel her toes curling, her stomach warming, her thighs clenching. Her fingers found his biceps, gripped, held on for balance, for strength and courage.

"Is our contract to your satisfaction, Miss Sullivan?" he wondered, lips brushing hers with each word.

"One last thing," she added. "Call me a booty call again and you lose your bedroom privileges…" She smirked. "Hope your couch is comfortable."

He chuckled deeply. "I don't plan to find out."

And with a kiss, their deal was sealed.

Lips meshing, tongues tangling, teeth scoring and marking each other as their own, clothes flew and hearts hammered. Naked chests met as they struggled to get out of the ring of computers and to somewhere more comfortable. Warm skin and entwined limbs, they fell to the bed with breathless laughter escaping between hasty and passionate kisses. The worry and sadness of before was all but gone as the lighthearted companionship she always felt in his arms came to full bloom once more. It was when the computers were down and the mess behind them that they were just Chloe and Oliver; two people who saw each other, knew and cared deeply for each other, despite everything.

With the trust between them on a level playing field and promising to be one they would share in honestly, there was only one skeleton left to deal with and it wasn't one Oliver had to worry about. As long as they understood each other and what they meant to one another, the only skeleton in the closet was that of them as others saw them. With Oliver hovering above a willing and happy Chloe, content to explore each other and their future together as it came, they would keep their newly amended verbal contract to themselves and leave the others guessing.