Forgotten

A/N: My first Chlollie fic. I haven't fallen for a couple this hard since Brooke and Lucas (that's saying a lot). I came across this idea through an image of Chloe seated in a corner and the rest just flowed out on its own. It was going to be a bit more dramatic, instead, I ended up with pure fluff. You've been warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville or any of the characters. This plot, however, was my idea.

She was wedged into a corner with her knees close to her chest. A notebook resided in her lap while a pen was positioned between her index and thumb. Concentration captured her features. Her brows were knitted, her green orbs narrowed as they read over whatever was on the page. Piles and stacks of papers were littered around her, a few of which fluttered with the breeze filtering the air from the fan on a nearby table.

His footsteps didn't break her focus, a stride which he was positive she could recognize from across the room. It wasn't until he was close enough did he slowly bend down beside her, careful not to tear her attention from whatever it was that she was working on. She was dressed in a lavender strapless sundress with an eye-lit trim. Odd was his original reaction. When was the last time Chloe wore a dress, especially in a moment it was not required? However, that thought soon fled once the tapping of the pen against the notebook was brought to his attention. "What're you working on, Professor?"

As thought, she jumped-flinched may have been more accurate. Her wide orbs turned to him, the green filled with shock. "Jeez, Oliver, you scared the crap out of me."

His lips twitched into the crooked smile she was far too accustomed to…lack of smile really. "Sorry about that Sidekick." He thought she would be used to people sneaking up on her by now.

Chloe simply rolled her eyes, turning back to the notebook before her.

The blonde kneeling before her frowned as the beat of pen against paper returned. Reaching over, he snatched the pen from her fingers.

"Hey," she muttered, attempting to reach for the inanimate object. It was no use, even with him seated like that; he still managed to tower over her. Right now, she loathed her height complex.

"Chloe," he stated, his eyes comfortably settling upon her profile, "what are you doing all cooped up in Watchtower?"

"Incase you haven't noticed, Ollie, but this is my job." She gestured around the space with her arms.

Oliver did think she was rather animated with her words.

"A job you gave me, might I remind you."

He shook his head, dropping the subject, if only for a moment, just to make her think she had the upper hand here. "Nice dress."

She frowned at the smirk coating his lips and the way his dark eyes twinkled with that patronizing spark. She was a girl. Girls wore dresses. Even in Chloe Sullivan's strange world, this was a free country, so she could wear whatever the hell she wanted. "Laundry."

He reached for her hand, instead of the notebook that had, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, made him curious. Her skin was soft against his. "Do you remember what day it is?"

With her free hand, she reached for the polystyrene cup he hadn't noticed before, and brought it towards her lips. The rim of the cup brushed against them before she spoke. "Am I supposed to?"

He raised his brows. "Normal people do keep track, and as organized as you are, I thought you would." Oliver gestured towards the littered mess surrounding her. "This is so unlike you."

"I'm swamped," she stated, leaving his hand and reaching for a random typed sheet.

He frowned again, running a hand through his unruly blonde hair. After releasing a huff, he said, "With what, exactly?" He hadn't remembered assigning her anything, and he was positive even Clark Kent would leave Watchtower alone on a day such as this.

"Something Victor sent me," she mused, and he couldn't ignore the slight giddiness in her voice.

After all, information made Chloe happy, but she often didn't realize when to give it a rest, and this was one of those times. He could make out the faint marks smudged under her eyes. "When was the last time you slept?"

"Last night," she answered without taking her eyes off the sheet of paper she was now reading.

"A full eight hours?"

"Oliver…" her words trailed as he leaned towards her, making the air going to her lungs recede. She swallowed.

He backed away a quick moment later, taking the notebook filled with her scrawl. The notes were something he could not decipher from a quick gloss-over, in fact, it looked nothing more than jargon.

"Like I said," she stated in a whisper as she took the notebook from him, "I'm swamped."

"So swamped that you forgot your own birthday?"

Her eyes widened, if only slightly, as she turned to face the man before her. "My…"

He nodded.

She bit her lip. "I can't believe…"

He only nodded again. Oliver leaned back against the wall, now seated adjacent to her. "I had a party planned for you. You didn't show."

"You could have called?"

His eyes fell to her cell phone, positioned upon the table a mere few feet from them, littered with more papers. "I did," he said with a slight nod, a nod which often followed when Oliver made a point, "thrice."

Her cheeks flushed. "It must be on silent."

"Which would explain why you didn't answer Lois's or even Clark's calls."

Chloe bit her lip. Right now, she felt rather stupid.

"Clark thought you were in some kind of trouble."

Which wasn't entirely out of the ballpark, Chloe thought to herself, considering her track record of close calls. "I'm sorry," she whispered, turning to face him, "but you know big birthdays have never been my kind of thing. I would rather spend the day in Watchtower or lounging in pajamas in my apartment."

"By yourself?"

A tiny smile consumed her lips. Oliver looked rather hurt. She loved how she could stab his ego unintentionally. "You'd have to be there of course…"

He smirked. "I like that idea."

"Lois and Clark too."

Oliver frowned, only causing her to giggle.

"I really am sorry."

"I know that Sidekick." He sent her a small smile. He should have known from the beginning a party wasn't what Chloe desired. She never had been much of a birthday celebrator. And considering her last birthday party with the whole Zantana fiasco just the previous year, he should have never even considered otherwise.

She leaned her head against the crook of his neck, the soft locks of her hair tickling his skin in a comforting manner. Chloe never insisted on being treated like a princess, an aspect Lois and Tess never had a problem with. Chloe was simply okay with being a mere pauper. Maybe that's why she had gotten to him. She was so different from his previous girlfriends. The confidence stayed. Something, neither Lois nor Tess lacked. She was comfortable with him, at ease, and he was that way with her. They really were equals, a perfect match to each other's confidence.

"Besides," she murmured lazily, pulling him out of his reverie, "what could possibly top a satellite?"

He chuckled at her remark, a rumbling from the throat she loved so much.

"A lazy evening spent with Oliver Queen in Watchtower."

"A lazy evening spent with Oliver Queen in Watchtower," she repeated before morphing her voice into a yawn, "…I like that."

It didn't take long for her eyes to flutter to a close, a sight he found rather breathtaking. Oliver draped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. "Happy Birthday, Chloe," he whispered, dropping a kiss to the top of her head, "may you get all your hearts desire."

"I have all my hearts desire, Ollie," she whispered with a sigh, "I have you."

A/N: Reviews would be appreciated and points of improvement are always welcomed.