All mistakes are my own, only doing this for fun.

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The country side was vast and green, every shade imaginable as if when created by God he lingered on the greens emphasizing the lush beauty of the lands and the promise of hope, growth, and prosperity. Tucked into a hillside of the pristine lands was something that in obvious appearance seemed incongruent with the hill side. A huge ivory castle, with billowing flags. For the residents of the kingdom, it was a perfect fit; the magic of the realm blending into landscape could be described simply as heaven.

The realm itself had a rough and turbulent birth. Misbegotten and misguided kings and heads of state ran the people ragged. It was a man, a mage, a magician, a sorcerer, whatever title you wanted to give him, who took matters into his own hands. A sword formed from deep magic's that had long been held by the lady of the lake, was released to his care. The sword would become the symbol of hope, where hope was like a mist that would coat the people in the early dawn but evaporate to nothing in the waking day.

In all his long years the magician never led or walked on a straight course, riddles and mysteries were the source of his charm. He could see the future and all of its infinite possibilities and was a firm believer in destiny.

Camelot had thrived, until the last year. Mordred had appeared from nowhere and wanted to gain ground, to lay claim to the land he felt he was due. He had been patient long enough. He had been waiting for the prosperity of the King and his Lady to fail, and it hadn't. He, in his boredom, had gotten angry and decided that he would have Camelot at ANY cost.

Mordred was a threat graver then an invasion by a vast army. Mordred could do anything, be anything or anywhere. Mordred was a problem that Merlin had thought had been entombed. He had not been seen really since the last great war. Since the King, Queen and the knights were all immortal, that had been a really long time.

Merlin had warned Arthur that there had been signs that Mordred was now deep into death magic; dark, and evil blood magic. The signs were still vague, but Merlin had a feeling and when Merlin had a feeling, plans had to be made.

The first killing had a been a peasant woman who had been found in a shepherd's field. It had appeared she had been mauled by an animal until Merlin went to do a blessing of the body before her funeral and smelled the faint whiff of blood magic.

The third had been the young adopted niece of Sir Orin. Her death had broken his heart and he had left to go to grieve with her family, taking a sabbatical from the round table.

After her death, Merlin also disappeared. He seemed to have taken the death personally. After her funeral ceremony, Merlin walked from the kingdom, and never reappeared. One day he was there and the next gone. No explanation, just gone.

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Arthur stood next to his Queen, silent as stone, watching as Merlin walked around the stones, waving his arms, mumbling to himself. The last two days had been a blur. Merlin had arrived out of the blue just as mysteriously as when he disappeared. He appeared right in the middle of a meeting of Arthur and his knights.

He weaved a tale so bizarre it bared repeating. He had discovered that there had been 5 murders and Mordred was the perpetrator and the worst of it was that he had used blood magic.

With his dark magic he had found a way to cut through time and disappeared. Merlin had banished him from Camelot, but with the blood magic, he could find a way to come back into the realm and cause massive amounts of destruction and chaos. Merlin needed to be found and returned to his time, he needed to be neutralized.

Which brought them to where they were, to what they were watching. It was as unbelievable as the story they had been told.

"Oh Arthur." She whispered as her champion began walking around the stones touching each with his hand and mumbling the words he was taught by the Wizard.

"I know sweet," he spoke and took her hand in his and brought it to his lips for a kiss. "He and I fought, argued, battled like we have never fought before." He spoke. She gasped and turned to him. He looked down upon her his expression was grim. "He won with only the words: for King, Queen, God and country." She shook her head and brought her husband's hand to her lips for a kiss.

"God speed." She whispered as they continued to watch the intricate sorcery being worked.

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In a very upscale and elegant penthouse suite overlooking the hustle and bustle of down town Metropolis sat a man in a suit so expensive it could have funded the economy for a third world country for years. It had been custom tailored as all his clothing had been due to his height.

He shuddered at the memory of all the attention he received at the clothier. The women in the shop kept undressing him with their eyes or passing business cards into his palm. It was disconcerting, bloody unnerving really. He had a mission and investing any time in conquests was not part of his agenda.

He shook his head as he crossed his long legs, held out his hand and a crystal tumbler of expensive Scotch appeared in hand. He sighed heavily. This world was so strange to him, the machines to travel and communicate, it was a different type of magic then he was used to. The hunt… that was the same. He found that the darkness was his friend. Merlin had granted him a guide in this time, this realm. A young man who helped him to learn of the technology and showed him the news of the lands, where he began to study and seek out the trail of Mordred. He had been blessed with wealth which he was told by his aid made travel easier. He was also told with the money came expectation. He was expected to act like an aristocrat.

There had been a traveling exhibit of Camelot and it seemed recently that where the exhibit went, blood followed. The murders were odd and did have the smell of blood magic. That is how they had ended up in Chicago. The exhibit had been there for a run of a month he had been told and before that New York City.

As the exhibit was winding down that is when the murders occurred. He took a deep drink of his Scotch, his tumbler refilling instantly. They had been there for the closing. Then there was a ride in that forsaken bird to a place called Metropolis.

The exhibit moved from Chicago to Metropolis and tonight he was to take a tour as it is the grand opening. He took another hefty drink and sighed. His mind should have been on the hunt, but there was something else on his mind. Not a thing but a who.

He stood and moved to stand by the large picture window. He shook his head. He had spotted her in Chicago at the latest murder scene. She was dainty in stature, but her strength radiated from her like a shield. He was amused watching her ask questions of the investigators. His memory was impeccable, and it hit him in the chest like an arrow.

He had snuck into the shadows closest to the body, it was a woman found by a dumpster. He had been about to step closer when he heard her.

"Hey, who are you?" he froze. He had flexed his power, pushed himself into the in-between. There was no way she could have seen him, right? He ignored her. "You, really? Who are you?" he stood to face her at his full height, and she gasped. "Damn you're a tall drink of water." She stared up into his face in awe. He looked at her completely stunned.

"Hey Chloe, what in the hell are you doing over there?" One of the detectives shouted at her. Chloe turned to see the pudgy cop coming to her. She gasped and turned to the tall man…err where he was, he… was gone. She gasped and turned back to the detective.

"Sorry Jerry," she gave him her sweetest smile.

Oliver stood stone still. He hadn't moved, hadn't dared to breath. She turned back to him and couldn't see him. What the bloody hell? If he saw Merlin, he would have to know about the error in his magic. He turned to the scene and studied everything, committing it to memory. He committed her to memory.

Her scent was of vanilla and the faintest whiff of orchid. It was something he had never encountered in his immortal life.

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He took another drink from his tumbler and the light of the room caught the gold of his signet ring and he stared at it. Oh how he wished he could be home, the noise here was deafening. He hadn't really been gone long but it had felt like a lifetime already. He had a mission, and one that he would rather die before he failed.

Mordred crossed the line when he began dealing in death magic. He could be anywhere or anytime. Merlin had given his word he was in this time and needed to be found and brought back to his time. To Oliver, who was not yet with a wife or family other than his brother knights, felt like the obvious choice to take this on.

His King disagreed and they fought. Oliver had never ever disagreed with his King. This was epic until he whispered the words echoing in his heart: for King, Queen, God and Country. And it was then that his majesty acquiesced.

So lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear the knocking at the door. The door then opened. "Sir Oliver?" the seemingly meek voice asked. "Sir Oliver?" the voice, more confident now, asked again.

"Aye." He spoke drinking his Scotch in one swallow before turning to the young man. He tossed the tumbler into the air and it disappeared.

"The car is waiting." Oliver nodded as he made his way to the door of the suite. He looked in the corner of the room to the shining suit of armor that was his, wishing he could wear that instead of the suit. This world was so strange, and he felt so exposed in the lighter clothing. "Sir?"

"Aye, I heard you the first time. Lead on young Martin. Lead me on to my doom." He walked regally as he was led out of the room to the car that would take him to the Arthurian exhibit opening.

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Chloe sat in front of her editor waiting for the other shoe to drop. The trip to Chicago had been kind of a bust. Except for him. She shook her head and blinked as Perry just stared at her. Perry had called her in to his office and he had sounded pissed off. Perry to his credit leaned back in his chair arms crossed and studied his ace reported. He was gauging her appearance and she looked strung out.

"When was the last time you took some time off?" he asked her.

"Puhlease. Justice waits for no one, and Pulitzers don't either." She smirked and yawned.

"Well, I have a soft assignment for you, there is an exhibit opening at the Metropolis Museum, it's very Lord of the Rings, and our Event reporter is out sick."

"A museum piece really?" she sounded disappointed.

"Oh yeah and it better sound good or you will be doing the Fancy Cat show for the next 3 years." He teased.

"Alright, alright, I'll take it easy." She threw up her hands in protest.

"Nice try, but you're still going to the museum, its formal and the limo will pick you up at 6p," he spoke.

"What exhibit? On hobbits really?"

"No sorry, it's on Camelot." He spoke chuckling at her indignation.

"Really, it's a myth." She spoke while rolling her eyes dramatically.

Perry pulled a file off of his largest stack and handed it to her. "Try again." He spoke leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers under his chin. "There is a lot of evidence to the contrary, this exhibit has won awards and draws a huge crowd."

"The medieval times set, now doubt," she snarked.

"Try Nobel Prize winners, scholars, and the insanely wealthy."

"Not just the insane?" she snarked.

"Just do your research, get fancied up and have fun tonight, who knows you may even learn something." He scowled at her then smiled. Chloe laughed and stood and left the office.

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Chloe got home to her apartment and went to her bedroom when her phone rang. It was Lois. They had spoken pleasantries and then Chloe downloaded about her meeting with her editor.

"So, you're doing a museum piece?" Lois asked.

"I know, Perry thinks that I need to take it easy." Chloe replied as she looked over her dress selection in her closet.

"Is he wrong?" Lois asked.

"Why are you calling me now isn't it like 1 in the morning there?"

"Yeah, but we just had this killer office party," she spoke.

"Another one? What is it you do at that paper beside drink?"

"Hey, I get paid very well to give an American opinion in London," Lois sassed.

"Great, meanwhile, I get benched by my editor and I'm getting sent to Camelot," Chloe groaned.

"Oh, that's what you're seeing? Chloe its way cool, King's, Queen's and Knights in shining armor."

"Fairy Tales Lois and you know I gave those up when I moved out of Smallville, no more wall of weird,"

"But cuz,"

"Come on, I'm not the knight and shining armor type. I'm a realist. Chivalry died the day that internet dating was invented."

"God you're such a pessimist."

"No, I'm a realist, all that fluff and fantasy is for other people, not me."

"Well nice to see you have an open mind,"

"I'm not like you Lo. I stopped dreaming years ago. It only gave me a headache. You live with your head in the clouds. I'm way to practical for love at first site and all of those ridiculous notions."

"Take it back Sullivan," Lois growled/

"Puh-lease, it's true and you know it. Where you are all curves and girliness, I'm all angles, facts and figures. Business vs pleasure."

"And if you shed your business shell you may just find pleasure. Hell, you may even enjoy it."
Lois teased. "Come on have an open mind, the exhibit is great! Very well done. It could almost make a non-believer like you believe."

"Huh, that's not an open mind, Lo, it's called a miracle." Chloe teased. "Now which dress, the green one or the red one."

"Green, most definitely," Lois spoke through gritted teeth.

"I have to finish getting ready. Take care Lo, I will call ya later, love ya," Chloe spoke and hung up. She shook her head wondering when Lois Lane became a romantic.

000

The limo had arrived right on time. Chloe was at the lobby of her complex, dressed to the nines and dreading the evening of socializing. The trip to the museum was short and Chloe was truly surprised by the turn out. It was like a Hollywood premier, a truly high-end affair. She was escorted from the limo by a man in a tuxedo and shown into the museum.

In the foyer knights in shining armor was guarding either side of the museum entrance. Chloe sighed and shook her head, she thought it was ridiculous.: This is going to be a looong night.: she thought to herself. She grabbed a flute of champagne and ducked into the exhibit to avoid any awkward questions from those that might recognize her.

The first part of the exhibit was artifacts of the age, some bowls, carvings, medals, lots of gold this and lots of gold that. Chloe could only shake her head. She took some notes and moved onto the next section which seemed to tell a story, the day in the life of a peasant, it was well done, but still not her cup of tea. She glanced at her watch, wondering what amount of time she needed to put in to get information for her story and to satisfy her editor.

She had only been at the museum for 8 minutes, not nearly long enough. Rolling her eyes, she moved on. Dividing the next exhibit was a huge sketch rendering of what King Arthur was thought to have looked like. She read the story board of the many versions of the King and where he originated from, historical blah, blah, blah. If she really focused, he did appear regal and maybe considered handsome, for some artist's rendering any way.

Moving past the rendering she entered a castle hall and into what appeared to be a throne room. There were two very simple thrones at its head. Huge murals covered the walls depicting Knights in battle, dressed in full armor either jousting or fighting in hand to hand combat. On the floor were depictions of the peoples of Camelot and the reason why they would want and audience with the King and Queen.

Chloe was so lost in the artistry and didn't realize that she was no longer alone in the room. She heard a man sigh and turned to see what she would have described as an old hippy dressed in a tux staring at the murals. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail and his beard was a little scraggly. She shook her head and continued to study the murals.

"What's the matter, this not exciting enough for you?" the man asked.

"Sorry?" Chloe spoke turning to see him approach her.

"I think you are the first person I have ever met who isn't totally enamored by this." He gestured to the room.

"I live in reality, this is totally fantastical," she spoke as she moved from that room to the next. It was an armory and with weapons all over the place. On the walls again was more murals about the type of training the knights had to go through. It looked arduous. She sighed she was about to leave the room when a knight on the mural caught her eye. His back was to the artist. It wasn't his armor or the sword at his hip, but the fact he was kneeling in front of a crying child, he appeared to be trying to sooth her.

"Ahh, yes, the chivalrous Knight." The man spoke behind her.

"An artist with a really good imagination." She spoke turning to try and get away from this man. The next room was a panoramic mural. Half of it was a bloody battle, dark knights fighting in contrast with the ones in silver armor. The other half was called, The End of Battle. All the habitants of the realm appeared to be standing at the edge of a lake or some large body of water. There were bodies on boats lined up in rows. Soldiers at the ready to push them off. The next view was of a Knight and he looked remarkably like the one calming the child, holding a long bow with a flaming arrow. The next frame was the funeral pyres, floating into the sunset.

Chloe hadn't realized that she had stepped closer to the man with the long bow. Grief was evident on his features even though he really didn't have a detail painted face. Chloe felt his pain, his grief; she knew that kind of pain and had been grateful to have had Lois to support her through it.

"The Golden Knight," the old man spoke.

"How could he be anything but imaginary, he has no real face," Chloe argued.

"Does the artist need to give him one for him to be real? He had lost his parents at a very young age, and he was the most skilled of all the archers." The man spoke as he began to absently play with his beard. "He was always asked to light the funeral pyres. He never refused even when it weighed heavy on his soul."

Chloe chuckled, "What was he a friend of yours or what? Come on sir, I'm here to do a job not entertain fantasy. This is great if you're a child in need of something to believe in. I'm not. I have adult ideals and not child- like delusions. So, if you don't mind, I really need to get more information for my article." She spoke and walked away.

The man smiled, he knew that when he returned from parts unknown he would stop here. Something had called to him, and sure enough it was her. She would be the perfect match for his friend, perfect in every way. She would be the one to help him find his way home. He chuckled to himself, what's a little thing like time to keep two destined souls apart? He was about to follow her when he felt a tightening in his chest, one that left him out of breath. It was like ice was being pumped through his heart. It was the evil he had sent the Golden Knight to find. He couldn't pin point where or when it was, but it was dark, and it was getting stronger. He shook his head and looked around, when he was sure the coast was clear, he blinked and disappeared.

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The sleek black limo pulled into the alley. It had been one of the stipulations that this particular guest be allowed to enter through this part of the exhibit. The planners had just thought him eccentric. In truth he was truly shy of all the media frenzy.

"So, I will go and let them know you have arrived, you have free reign of the exhibit. When it's time for dinner I will come and get you." His aid spoke.

"Thank you, Martin, for making this experience at least bearable." He spoke with tension in his voice.

"You are welcome sir," he spoke and exited the limo first. The man then followed, stepping out, letting the cool breeze hit him in the face. He thought to himself how much he missed home. The open fields, the peace, his friends. He adjusted his tie and entered the building through a door that was being held by his aid.

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Chloe slowly made her way through the exhibit. She paused in front of an elegant painting that was labeled Arthur and Guinevere. She studied it. The couple looked genuinely happy or at least the artist's rendering of them had them look happy. How could you have a painting of a couple who may or may not have actually existed look so exquisitely in love? They looked at each other as if the sun and moon revolved around them.

She then began to read the plaque with their story and something in her shifted. She sighed as it seemed some part of her that had long since died, was starting to awaken and she was suddenly hit with a very old memory.

"Daddy?" Chloe asked her father as he pulled her blankets up to her chin.

'"Yes, Princess?" he spoke still sitting by her side.

"Is true love really real?" she asked. "Like in the stories?"

"What do you think?" he smiled and chuckled.

"I think that Cindy was sorta silly thinkin' the prince was gonna save her. Like some armor in shining knight." She spoke with little girl frustration.

"Knight in shining armor?"

"That's what I said daddy," She frowned in child-like indignation.

Gabe sighed shaking his head. "Oh princess, true love exists. It's all around you. I love you…" he tapped her nose with his index finger.

"Daddy!" she protested. "You have too."

"Princess," he laughed. "Is there a one perfect love out there waiting for you? To sweep you off your feet? I would say yes, otherwise you might not have ever been born." He kissed her cheek and then stood. "Don't try to be a grown up to soon on me. You should believe in princes and fairy tales."

"But why?"

"Because all little girls do."

"But why?"

"It's what keeps you believing in magic." He smiled at the look of concentration on her face. The one he knew meant she was trying to understand his words. He leaned and kissed her cheek again. She kissed him back then turned onto her side and fell asleep.

A shiver slid down her spine, Chloe hadn't thought about her childhood in a long time. She shook her head and continued on into the exhibit.

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Oliver entered the exhibit feeling an overwhelming sense of grief. He was looking at his past from the future, wondering if they were all still well or even alive. The first room that he came into was all weaponry. Included was a replica of Excalibur stuck in the stone and he smirked. He remembered the first time he ever heard the story and the first time he ever saw the stone. He moved onto the next case that had all the swords of the knights hung, they were replicas of course, because the blades were pure and undamaged.

He examined everyone, remembering every battle they went into and the chips, scratches and marks left behind. He and his friends fought valiantly in whatever battle they faced in the name of their king. His heart skipped a beat when he came to his sword. The original was next to his armor in his room, the copy just made him more home sick.

It seemed like forever before he left the weapons exhibit and then entered the court yard to Camelot. The artist had done a huge paneled rendering that circled the room. In the courtyard itself were various artisans, vendors and the laughing people of the city. He moved to the center of the room and closed his eyes. He could almost hear the laughter, feel the warmth of the sun on his skin, and smell the smells of home. He opened his eyes and shook himself from his reverie. He needed to congratulate the artist on a very realistic depiction of the castle courtyard.

He followed the designated path through a tall arched door in mural form that led him deeper into the castle. The exhibit was set up like a choose your own adventure. There were different turns and twists that lead to the many different areas. He however knew where he wanted to go, where he needed to go.

He followed the path that led to a descending staircase. He paused as soon as he stood in the entry way, hesitating. He then entered the room and all the tension he had been holding was ebbing from him like the ocean from the shore. The room was huge and round, a single overhead light illuminating the room. In its center was a giant round table.

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Chloe finally made her way down a set of stairs, feeling incredibly lost. She really had no idea this exhibit was so big. She was about to enter the room but paused when she saw a very tall man enter the room. She stood back in the shadows, just watching him. It was him, from Chicago. She choked back a gasp. He moved with such innate grace. :Damn he's soo tall.: she thought smirking to herself. He wore a very expensive suit like it was a second skin.

What struck her the most was the expression on his face. He looked like a man who had just found his salvation. He studied the table with an unfocused gaze. She studied his face, tan, chiseled features and ohh he had a dimpled chin. Chloe's heart raced and she held her breath not wanting to disturb this almost intoxicating moment. She drank in the sight of him. The blond spiky hair, his very expressive face, the play of his muscles as he slowly moved. Chloe felt drunk just by looking at this man.

He was the epitome of masculine, regal maybe but ooh so…..wow. No other word would do but wow. Stunning, handsome, beautiful, elegant..nope…just wow. He walked around the table once, staring at it. On his second pass he stopped at one spot and reached to put his hand on the table and closed his eyes.

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He knew she was there, her scent hit him first and a chill slid down his spine. As much time as he spent protecting the kingdom, his skills of awareness had been keenly honed. He didn't perceive any threat from the presence, he could sense a curiosity about her.

He stared at the table, missing the clang of swords as they came to rest in the grooves, the jovial laugh of kinsmen who were catching up on the day's adventures. He walked around it, reminiscing on the size of it, and then paused when he came to his spot and closed his eyes, his mind drifting to the day that spot became his.

"Kneel before us, Oliver." Arthur had spoken. Oliver had been a bloody and wounded mess. The battle he had fought alongside Arthur's men was gruesome. He had been victorious. He beat his foe with what he thought was his last bit of strength. The King had found him, he was also bloodied, but when he stood over him there was nothing but pried on his face. It had taken more of the reserves he wasn't aware he had to make it to kneeling. "You have fought courageously this day. I have seen in you what I see in all my knights and that is unwavering strength, even when you think all is lost." He paused tapping each of Oliver's shoulders with the tip of Excalibur. "I ask you today to continue to fight for right, for honor, and for Camelot. What say you?"

"Aye, milord." He spoke out of breath.

"Then I dub thee." He spoke tapping his shoulders with his sword tip one more time. "Sir Oliver Knight of Camelot."

Smiling to himself he sighed. "How long are you going to just stand there?" he asked looking up and into the direction that the presence stood hanging in the shadows.

Chloe gasped, 'run or face him,' was the fleeting thought in her head.

He chuckled sensing the presences dilemma, "I hardly think you can run in what you are wearing, so why not just come and face me now?" The voice was accented, rich and masculine. The type of voice that could make a girl hot from hearing it say just the most mundane things. "Still no?" he spoke moving from the table to face the shadow. "This is a public building." He spoke spreading his arms out to show he was unarmed. "I am certain if you screamed security would be here in moments." He sighed. "I promise, I am no threat to you." Chloe put her hand on her chest, trying to catch the breath she didn't realize she was short of. She shook her head and stepped into the room.

"Allo." He spoke passing his gaze from her head to her toes. Chloe instinctively bit her lip realizing he was sizing her up. The look made her swallow hard.

"I …I'm sorry." She stammered. "I didn't realize there was anyone else in this part of the exhibit."

He smirked, watching the blush spread from the top of her head to her visible chest. "You make a habit of watching people?" he asked with just a hint of humor in his tone. Chloe blushed deeper under the intensity of his gaze.

"Sort of." She spoke entering the room a little further but still keeping a safe distance from him.

"I see." He spoke his gaze was unwavering. His palms were instantly sweaty when she stepped further into the room. Her dress suited her, and he really wanted to know what lay beneath, what her curves would look like uncovered. He berated himself for such a stray thought. This petite waif looked as if she would fit nicely underneath him. Again, he smacked himself internally as his libido was taking over. Being this close to her, sensing her inner strength, and just seeing her about dropped him to his knees. The wayward thoughts weren't going to help him succeed in his mission at all. Internally angry with himself he growled bluntly, "Who are you?" he asked. "It's you." She said at the time he spoke.

"Ladies first." His voice dropping an octave as he took another step toward her.

"It's you, from Chicago?" she spoke a smile curving the corner of her mouth. She moved to the other side of the round table, wanting to put as much distance between them as she could.

"Aye" he spoke stalking toward her loving the hint of smile and wanting to see more.

"And… what are doing here?" she asked as he stalked closer to her.

"You are sort of contrite, aren't you?"

Chloe gasped and continued around the table slowly until she was where he had been standing and he was where she was. "Not the first time I've heard that." She frowned. "I'm a reporter." He looked at her, unblinkingly. "I get that response a lot too." She shrugged.

"Forgive me." He spoke shaking his head slightly to clear it. "Have you been through the entire exhibit then?" he spoke moving toward her. Suddenly, her feet not following her brains commands, refused to move away from the alpha male stalking toward her.

"Not sure," she choked, then cleared her throat. " I started somewhere in the middle…I think." He nodded his head. "Really not much of a talker are you?"

"And what are you expecting me to say exactly?" he purred as he stepped toward her and entered her personal space. Suddenly she was very aware of his maleness, his strength, and his cologne hit her nose and her inner girl was stripping down to her panties wanting him to lay his apparently large hands all over her body. She'd never reacted to a man like that before.

"Um.." she spoke biting her lip and raising her eyebrows when he stood right over her.

"Um?" he asked. "Now who is not much of a talker?" He spoke his voice barely over a whisper. "And yes, I was in Chicago. I do remember you." He purred. "You have haunted me when I have other things I MUST be thinking of."

"Like?" she spoke looking up into his face challenging him with a smirk.

He grinned. He thought about answering her, but another instinct took over and he reached to touch the hair the hung at her shoulder. "I am afraid I cannot say." Chloe just stared at him curiously. "What?" he asked curious of what was on her mind.

"You speak in a way that seems old and new." She grinned at him.

"Forgive me." He purred.

"Nothing to apologize for, it's….curious." she grinned.

"I am here on business."

"And do you have a name?"

"Do you?" he quipped back.

"I'm Chloe, Chloe Sullivan." She spoke holding her hand out for him to shake. He raised an eye brow at the gesture. He reached for her hand and instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips for a kiss his gaze never leaving hers.

"A pleasure to meet you Chloe Sullivan." He smirked, not letting go of her hand. "I am Oliver."

"Oliver?" she whispered looking up into his chocolate colored eyes.

"Lady." He purred lowering their joined hands but not letting go.

"C..C..Chloe, my name is Chloe."

"Chloe." He spoke looking down at her.

"I'm here…I have a job…" She squeaked.

"Lass." He spoke. He was about to say something when he felt the shift of power, the sense of evil that had the hair on the back of his neck stand up. In a second, he stepped further into her personal space pulled her close into his body, wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into the in between.