Ok, so this started out as one thing, and the plot bunny started running away, and I started chasing, and I think I may have fallen down a rabbit hole.

Anyway, set at start of Season 9. Sorta AU.

Not Mine, Don't Sue.

ENJOY!


"You don't have to go." She told him from her seat across the room. His brow furrowed, dropping his jacket back to arm of the couch, where it had been before he'd disturbed it.

"It's a quarter to three in the morning, Chloe, we've been at this for nearly twelve hours. You need to sleep." That he was certain about. The dark rims beneath her eyes, held no doubt that sleep deprivation had become one of Chloe's pastimes since he had last seen her.

"I'm fine", she said brightly, or at least as bright as she could muster. In fact Oliver was sure he saw her stifle a yawn.

"And you suggest what exactly?" he asked, head tipped to the side, arms crossed.

"Just that you could stay a little longer." It sounded like no big deal, just a simple suggestion. Just the way it was meant to sound. But, truth was she didn't want him to leave. She didn't want to return to the unending silence of the place. Just another pair of footsteps was enough. She just didn't want him to leave just yet.

"If I stay any longer, I'll be sleeping here."

"Would that be so bad?" She asked over her shoulder.

"No, I suppose not." He paused, watching her almost purposefully keeping her eyes of him. If she was so disinterested then why even suggest it. "I just... I didn't really expect a sleepover."

She did look at him then; and she laughed. Just a little chuckle, a bubble of a sound; there one minute, gone the next. He'd missed her laugh.

xxx

He scanned the file again. He didn't get it; secret organisations! Why did they all have to be so damn secretive? His job would be so much easier, if they were in the telephone book. He glanced over to where Chloe sat at a desk, fingers dancing rapidly over the keyboard. He decided right then and there that she worked too much.

"Tell me a secret" He beamed, trademark Queen smile in place.

She turned, momentarily allowing her eyes to leave the screen she had been intently studying. "Why?"

"Well, we're having a sleepover right? Then you have to tell me a secret. I mean that's what girls do at these things, right?"

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, and then we have pillow fights in our underwear!" sarcasm dripped from every word.

He lips quirked upwards again. His eyes running over the entire length of her body, before rising again to meet her emerald gaze.

"Hey!" she snapped, pelting him with a cushion, forcing herself not to blush at the possible images running through his mind.

He caught her chosen projectile with ease, smirking. "Is this the start of the pillow fight?"

"No!" she glared defiantly.

xxx

"You never told me your secret." He reminded her later handing her a glass of amber liquid.

"You never told me yours!" She pointed out, sipping the drink, smiling as she felt its heat sink all the way down her throat.

"I am super hero!" He told her proudly, paparazzi-proof smile firmly in place.

She laughed. A real laugh. A bright, bold sound reverberating through her body. "Yeah, that's a good one. But, unfortunately I'm already privy to your green leather fetish. So, I guess you'll just have to come up with something else."

"Then you'll tell me yours?"

"Maybe!" She replied smiling.

xxx

Two hours later she was drunk. He didn't know when it had happened, maybe during the bottle of Scotch or, or the half bottle of Champagne, or the triple distilled Russian Vodka... No, he couldn't quite pin-point the moment when she'd reached her glass too many, but he definitely knew how it had happened.

She was drowsy, barely awake, head on his lap, staring up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. He smiled down at her, pushing blond curls off her face, twisting the silken strands around his fingers.

"Are you gonna tell me your secret yet?" He teased, voice soft, enjoying watching her so relaxed. It was a rarity these days.

"I don't have any." She told him, eyes closed, voice husky as if she'd been asleep.

"Everyone has secrets" he whispered.

"I don't." She opened her eyes, "I just keep everyone else's."

He laughed. "And you're too good at it." She smiled at him. A pretty, sleepy sort of smile.

"There must be something. Something you've never told anybody, not even Clark."

"There might be one thing" she murmured, closing her eyes again, and drawing herself closer against the warmth of his body.

"Yeah," he encouraged, "what might that be?"

"I kissed Lex once" she yawned, in her semi-asleep state; the words almost getting lost in the sound.

He laughed at the impossibility of what he thought he heard. "Very funny."

Her eyes flashed open, staring up at him, "I wasn't really joking." She whispered, debating internally whether she even wanted to him hear her.

He looked at her, head cocked slightly to the side, disbelief evident on his face. "Lex?" He clarified. "As in tall, bald and evil?"

She frowned at his description.

"No you didn't..." He shook his head, and laughed again, a little less certain than before.

She looked away, playing with her ring, avoiding his scrutinizing gaze.

"Chloe?" The humour had gone from his voice.

She forced herself upward out of his lap; her head swam with the sudden change of altitude. The happy, sleepy drunk feeling was dying pretty rapidly. And she wished Oliver would stop looking at her like she'd just told him Santa Claus wasn't real.

She turned away from him, towards Watchtowers tiny kitchen. It wasn't much, but it had a coffeemaker and boy, did she need coffee.

He clearly decided to follow her, because when he next chose to break the silence, his voice echoed out from right behind her.

"When?" The confusion was evident in his voice. Chloe and Lex were as different as anything he could imagine, and the thought of them together, made him angry for reasons that created more questions than they answered.

She fidgeted. She had her back to him, but still she knew he was studying her; and now much less drunk and much more awake, she didn't want to be having this conversation.

She turned around to face him. She sighed. "Does it matter?"

He didn't answer, he just continued to stare at her stony faced, dark eyes fixated on hers.

"I'm sorry I said it. I mean it's not important," she paused, "Please, stop looking at me like that, Ollie."

"When?" He reiterated.

"The summer before Lionel's trial." She said simply.

He thought for a moment, considering her answer. Then his brow furrowed and his frown deepened. "You were seventeen!" He told her, shocked. The idea of some poor innocent teenaged version of Chloe being taken advantage of by the spawn of Lionel Luthor, was more than he could bear.

She folded her arms across her body "I am aware of that fact!"

"Why?"

Slowly she shrugged, "I don't know. He was the only person I saw for that whole summer. Four months not a single face except his. Oliver, I was scared and alone. And I know the only reason I was alive was for his own selfish cause, but..." She paused, watching him watch her.

"It just happened" she sighed, "And I wish it hadn't. And I wish I hadn't brought it up, because then you wouldn't be looking at me like that. I wish you wouldn't look at me like that" His eyes darted away from hers, down to his shoes. "I know you hate him, and I do too. But, then..." She stopped, looking away. "I just didn't want to be alone."

His eyes were back on her, and then so were his arms, wrapped around, pulling her against him, and wishing he wasn't such a protective jackass.

"You're not alone." He whispered into her hair.

"I'm not talking about now" She whispered, her voice catching in her throat, twisting slightly in his arms so she could meet his gaze.

"But, I am." His eyes searched hers, trying to find something, he couldn't quite decide what. Innocence, joy, love, whatever it was that she had lost. "I don't ever want you to feel like that again; like you're alone."

His voice was so soft, his eyes so sincere, she couldn't bear to look at him. It was all too much. This was meant to be an escape, she was meant to throw herself in work, into alcohol, into anything that would take her mind of the last three months.

Three months alone; without Clark, without Oliver, without Lois. Just her. Alone. Just like that summer. The summer she spent playing dead, hidden away from the world, watched by a singular pair of steel blue eyes. But this time it had been her who had been watching. Alone with the ghosts in her Watchtower, waiting for them to come back. Waiting for a distraction.

Oliver was meant to be a distraction. He was meant to bring work, and assignments and information. What he was not meant to do was stare down at her with dark amber eyes that promised so many things. Too many things.

Promises are made to be broken.

Chloe of all people knew that. Nobody kept their promises. She promised to love Jimmy. Promised to protect Davis. Promised to be loyal to Clark.

She failed.

Over and over again she failed.

She hated what she had done. What she had failed to do.

She hated that there were tears in her eyes as she buried her face against Oliver's chest.

She hated that he was here, being the hero, holding her.

She hated him. She hated herself. She hated Lex. Even in death he screwed things up. Even in death he just couldn't leave her be.

She pulled away from him, turning her back to him, hoping he wouldn't spot the tears. "Maybe, I was wrong," She started, "maybe you shouldn't stay here tonight". She'd rather deal with the ghosts in the Tower, than have him spend the whole night staring at her as if trying to find a way to fix her. No matter what he thought she wasn't broken. She wouldn't let herself be broken.

"Chloe" He moved towards, her but she stepped away beyond his grasp just out of reach. Wasn't she always?

"I want you go, Oliver." Her back was to him. She bit hard on her lip, to stop the tears from falling.

He stopped. Silence filling the void between them.

"I'm sorry." He told her after a moment. No overt emotion. No warm touch or soft voice. Just words hanging in the air around her. She turned.

"What?" it was little more than a breath, but he heard her.

"I shouldn't have left. You needed me and I wasn't there. I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "You didn't do this"

"But I didn't stop it" He approached her, slowly, silently. Warm fingers trailed the path her tears had left along her cheek. Her eyes closed at his touch. Soft and warm and real. A real person. Not a ghost, not a memory, but a real flesh and blood person. She moved towards him, into his embrace, her body acting, before her mind could object. "I never meant for this to happen. I never meant for you to be alone."

She didn't speak. She just stood there in his arms. Her cheek against his chest. She could hear his heart beat, its rhythm was calming, soothing, a lullaby she'd forgotten. She wanted to stay here forever. A lifetime in his arms, away from the memories in her head, listening to his heart beating out promises she prayed he could keep.

How long they stood there like that, she'd never know. It could have been seconds, it could have been eternity. But when he spoke again, she wished he hadn't. She had been happy in their little bubble outside the realms of reality. His voice brought her back with a bump.

"You should sleep"

She studied him, emerald eyes, dull from exhaustion and tinged red with tears. "If I sleep will you leave?"Her voice was so soft, the question so childlike, he swore he felt his heart break.

"Do you still want me to?" he asked quietly, matching her whispered tone.

She shook her head silently.

He sighed with relief. He didn't want to go and leave her alone like this, not now, not after everything he'd seen that night. "Then I won't leave."

xxx

When he woke the next morning, she was in his arms. Her warm body curled against his, blond curls spread out around her face, deep in sleep. All the tension from the night before was gone. She already looked more like the Chloe he remembered; she seemed to have her light back. That glow she brought everywhere she went was seeping back into her skin.

She sighed in her sleep and adjusting her position slightly. He watched her in silence, not daring to move, in case he'd wake her. He wondered how long it had been since she'd really slept. He wished he knew the answer. There were too many questions now; to with he knew none of the answers. He had been gone too long, She had been alone too long, and now the easy honesty they'd had before was gone.

Initially, he had come back because he had to. He needed her. Needed what she could bring to the table. But, now work and the JL seemed insignificant compared to the creature he held in his arms.

He had thought so many times of calling her during those months, but he just never could force himself to dial the phone, and now he regretted that ignorance so much more.

She had needed him and he had left. This was his fault and somehow he would find a way to fix it. Somehow he would bring her back from whatever brink she was tethering over. Like it or not she was stuck with him now. He wasn't going away and she would never be alone like that again.


R&R?

XOXO