A/N: Here's a little story I thought of right after Warrior aired. It starts off from when Chloe enters Watchtower. Of course, there are major spoilers for Warrior. Please R&R! Thanks!
Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville.
The Here and Now:
She had forced herself into this life. Chloe knew that her sense of aloneness was all her fault. But, for the first time since Jimmy's death she felt the urge to stop punishing herself. To let herself come out of solitary confinement.
Too bad there wasn't anyone around to share this new found feeling with. Clark and Lois had returned Alec back to his worried aunt and were probably now enjoying their un-solitary-ness. The rest of the gang was out doing their own thing. And she was walking into Watchtower to spend the rest of her night in front of her many screens.
She needed some new friends, she mused to herself as she swung open the doors to the main room.
Chloe hadn't expected to not be alone when she entered the room. In fact, when she caught sight of Oliver and his arrow flying towards her, the jump she gave wasn't entirely due to the flying sharp object zooming towards her general direction.
"Slow night?" she asked, the first thing that popped out of her mouth.
Well, it wasn't everyday an eligible, billionaire bachelor would forego the Saturday night city parties to shoot arrows in Chloe's lonely fortress.
He didn't give her a glance, just continued restringing his bow as he answered gloomily, "I figured I'd squeeze in some target practice… and a single malt."
"Did you bring enough for the rest of the class?" she asked instinctively, as she walked quickly towards the bottle of brown, liquid gold that she knew would bring her the warmth she craved to feel that night.
"Help yourself, Professor," he offered her, still not looking her way. She stripped off her jacket and reached for the bottle and a glass. "We're a little light on allegory tonight… bumpy day?"
She walked towards the couch, a wry look on her face all the way. Bumpy day? That was an understatement.
Sitting down, she admitted, "Not the smoothest," she paused, and in a fraction of a second she considered two things: how much did she need to reveal about that nights events and how much did he already know. She decided being cryptic was the safest way to go. "Someone asked me when the last time I had a good time was, and I didn't have an answer."
There, that was the gist of her night. That one sentence summed up the whole night and consequently all her pent up feelings till that moment.
Oliver didn't need to know more.
She poured herself a drink, ready to let herself drift away on the drink-induced cloud she suddenly planned to create for herself.
Chloe grabbed the cup, bringing it to her lips at the same moment Oliver finally looked her way. She took a slow sip, instead of the long gulp she had wanted to, acutely aware of him watching her.
"I don't think anyone could fault you for being on edge, Chloe," he told her and then turned back to his target practice. But he now had her attention. "Hell, if anyone could relate it's me, I get it."
She gave a chuckle at that, at how true his words were. "Yeah, you can."
She took another sip of her drink, now absently listening to him.
"You know," Oliver continued. "Sometimes you've got to take your fun where you can get it…" He let go of the arrow, of course, hitting the target dead on.
Restringing another, he added, "And… sometimes its right in front of your face…" He turned to give her a look and she smiled. "You just have to want to see it."
She thought he was blabbing on, trying to cheer her up. Give her a pep talk on how to find and have fun. She gave him a thank-you half smile and brought the warming liquid back to her mouth.
Chloe didn't think he was talking about the here and now. She hadn't had fun in awhile, but she was sure she wasn't supposed to be having it with Oliver, not at the moment, at least.
That's why his next words startled her into nervousness.
"Come on," he told her.
She stared at him; he was just inviting her to try out his bow and arrow, but why did he have to look so intense about it. Like it meant a little more than that.
Slowly, she put down the cup, and found herself getting up. She didn't know what was about to happen, but she realized she was completely open to the prospect of fun right now.
Reaching his side, she took the contraption from him, and pulled back on the string. She wasn't surprised when she felt him come around her. She welcomed his presence, so close to her.
She wasn't alone that night.
She felt his fingers trail from her elbow to her hand, grazing her skin ever so lightly, and her eyelashes fluttered at the gesture that seemed so intimate.
Her voice came out breathless, as she tried to focus on the task at hand. "How do I know when to let go?"
Chloe realized her words seemed to have double meaning. But she didn't care; Oliver would know what she meant.
His voice came right by her ear. It was just a whisper, but he was very close. "It's all about your heart…" he started, and she began to understand that Oliver Queen could read her like an open book.
His fingers danced over hers, coming to rest ever so lightly over them. The touch, so gentle she considered it almost teasing. Her gaze strayed from the target to their touching fingers and she suddenly found herself hoping he'd stop teasing her and take hold of her instead.
"… you just listen, right there, between the beats…"
Chloe made her own decision, right then.
"That's when you let go…"
She swallowed down any fears that might have been coming to the brim through this strange encounter. And just as she let the arrow go, she let herself go, as well.
Nothing was going to stop her. Not her inhibitions, not her reason. None of that. Not tonight, at least.
They both stood there, unmoving, staring straight ahead. Chloe didn't know what Oliver was seeing, but she knew that for her it wasn't the fact that she hadn't missed the shot. No, instead, it was that nights possibilities playing out before her eyes.
The next thing Chloe knew, she was being brought back into the present when the arm that Oliver had dropped right before she'd let go was coming back up around her. But, instead of going to the hand that still held the bowstring it was making its way around her waist, pulling her against his body.
She couldn't hold the bow up anymore; slowly it fell into her left hand and Oliver's free arm, the one not holding her up against him took it from her, lowering it to the floor.
Once there, his hand made its way up to push back the left side of her hair, back away from her face. She unconsciously tilted her head back and to the right, exposing her neck and jaw-line to the playful touch of his fingertips.
She felt his index finger trace the line of her jaw before caressing a particularly sensitive spot on her neck. Chloe felt herself giving in, leaning back into his touch while letting her mind go blank of anything but the here and now.
Chloe nearly gasped out loud when, instead of the light stroke of his fingers on her neck, she felt two perfectly formed lips touch the same sensitive spot in just as light of a manner.
Oliver's lips traced a gentle path up and down the line of her neck. She thought the lightness, the almost teasing gestures of his fingers and lips were bad enough, but in the next moment she was actually letting out a gasp, when instead of feather light, she felt his teeth graze her neck roughly. She grabbed hold of the hand that lay across her stomach and gave it a squeeze.
She heard Oliver chuckle in response before he whispered her name, "Chloe…"
The feel of his breath on her neck tickled her into action. She turned around slowly in his arms to face him. And just as slowly she brought her gaze up to meet his. Holding the look for just a moment, she felt as if a silent entreaty passed between them, from her to him, him to her.
Their foreheads touched just before she tilted her head to the side to meet the crashing force of his lips. There wasn't anything light or teasing about his kiss. It was firm and hungry and all together heavenly, she mused.
She felt herself smile into his kiss, parting her lips enough for him to encourage her to allow his tongue entry. She allowed it, matching his hungry rhythm with her own demands.
Oliver's arms were the only thing holding her up now, because her knees had melted along time ago.
She gave a very un-Chloe-like squeal in delight when Oliver suddenly swept her jelly legs right from under her.
Chloe gave him the brightest smile she could, briefly touching his cheek before wrapping her arms around his neck.
Oliver smiled back, his gaze never wavering from hers, as he led them over to the couch. She half expected him to throw her onto the couch—expect the unexpected being the theme of the night—but he lowered her gently, laying her onto the couch as if she were a princess.
He stood over her as if waiting for her. Silently, she held out her hand to him. He took it, bringing it to his lips first, before she tugged on it, bringing him to come over top of her, straddling her slight body.
"Chloe," he whispered. She could see in his eyes that he wanted to say something more.
She brought a finger to his lips, silencing him; there would be no talking that night.
He smirked against her finger, just before he replaced it with the touch of his lips.
Well, that's it. I thought this would be a good place to end. So this is meant to be a one shot. But, I could continue it. I'm not sure. For now, it's the end.
Hope you enjoyed. And I hope I didn't butcher the scene too badly.
Leave me a review and let me know what you think!