"Hey, Chloelicious! What's--"


 "Bart, where is Oliver?" a clearly livid Chloe demanded.


 "Bossman? Why?" Bart squinted suspiciously, pausing his raid of Oliver's refrigerator momentarily. "What'd he do?"


 "Just tell me where he is, Bart."


 "He--uh--I think he's in a meeting or somethin' else business tycoon-ish. He's s'posed to be back soon. Can I do somethin' for ya, mamacita?"


 Chloe only rolled her eyes to the Heavens, not answering Bart. She was going to kill Oliver. She was absolutely going to kill him. The flirtation between them was one thing. It was inappropriate for a work environment, of course, but it was essentially harmless. She'd chosen to let it slide. After all, it was nice to be flirted with once in a while. Even Bart's over the top pick-up-lines were welcome on the days when she felt so entirely unattractive and unfeminine it was ridiculous.


 She would never regret becoming Watchtower. Not a chance. It had given her life purpose, and besides that she really cared very deeply about all the members of the JL (and Clark, too). It was good to be able to look out for them. But the job definitely had its ramifications. There were times when she was so busy hacking systems, formulating plans, tracking down people who just didn't want to be found that she'd end up staying up for days on end, skipping showers, barely even eating until missions were completed, becoming entirely too dependent on coffee. By the end she often barely felt human, let alone pretty. She rarely let anyone see her when it got that bad. So yes, a little flirtation here and there did a lot for her self confidence. But this, this was out of control.


 "Chloe. Chloelicious. What is up with you, gorgeous?"


 Chloe sighed. "Bart, not the time."


 "Sorry." He switched out of flirt mode and into concerned friend mode. "Really, Chloe. What's wrong? What did the bossman do?"


 Chloe turned bright red just thinking about it. "You'll have to ask him about that one, Bart. It'll be interesting to see whether or not he'll own up to it."


 Bart raised his eyebrows, thankful he was not the one on Chloe's hit list. "Hey what's in the box?" he asked, noticing she was holding a package under her arm. He was about to snatch it from her before noticing the don't-you-dare expression on her face. "Okay. Forgetting the box," he raised his hands in mock-surrender. "Can I get you something Chloelicious? Animal? Vegetable? Mineral? Mexican tequila?"


 Before Chloe could respond, the door opened and Oliver walked in. Turning on him, Chloe replied in a menacing voice, "Definitely animal."


 Knowing it was one of those times to make himself scarce, Bart supersped to the door where a surprised Oliver was standing. "Boy are you gonna get it," Bart said with the air of a child who's delighted that he's not in trouble but someone else is.


 Oliver already looked as though he'd been harassed enough for one day. His hair was disheveled, his tie was dramatically loosened, and he had an air of having been beaten down. He looked at Chloe warily. She only folded her arms and looked at him expectantly.


 "Is there anything you'd like to say to me?" she asked.


 Oliver looked her up and down and could tell she was definitely ticked off more than was usual for her. He tried unsuccessfully to think of what he might have done to upset her. In the end he just sighed, and, looking at the ceiling for help, said meekly, "You look very pretty today?"


 "OLIVER!"


 "What?" He took an defensive step back in alarm.


 "Oliver, have you got any idea how inappropriate it was? I only just started working at the Planet again to make myself get out of Watchtower once in a while and you made it impossible for any of my new coworkers to take me seriously ever again! Was this your way of telling me that you don't want me working there? Because I think a phone message would have done just as well!"


 Oliver thought back frantically to what he might have done to embarrass her at the planet. Realization dawned on him. He couldn't help but laugh.


 "This is not a joke, Oliver! What were you thinking?"


 "Just to be sure we're on the same page," he said, irritatingly amused, "is this about the package I sent you?"


 "YES!" Chloe tore open the package she'd been holding and pulled out an emerald green bikini top. "Have you got any idea what this looks like to people I work with?" she exclaimed, shaking the top in front of him for emphasis.


 Oliver couldn't help it. He just laughed harder.


 "Oliver how can you seriously stand there and have the gall to treat this like a joke. This is crossing a line! This is sexual harassment! This i--"


 "Slow down, Sidekick." Oliver wiped his brow and tried to sober up. "I think you're misinterpreting something here. And I'm sorry you opened it while you were at the office. I've sent you packages there before and the delivery guy must have made a mistake. Did you actually see the envelope underneath the swim suit?"


 Chloe had had her mouth open, retort ready, but then she shut it. "Envelope?"


 "Mmhmm," he nodded, smirking ever so slightly.


 Chloe picked the box up from the floor and searched through the tissue paper where she found a blank white envelope. She opened it to find two plane tickets to Cancun for the weekend of her birthday along with an early birthday card. She'd practically forgotten she had a birthday. "Oh," she said blankly, a sense of stupidity slowly weighing down on her.


 "I thought you could use a vacation, Sidekick. I've seen how stressed you've been letting yourself get lately. You could use some time to yourself and with your birthday coming up--"


 "You thought you'd send me a tiny little bikini?" Chloe looked at him incredulously. There was humor in her eyes, though, Oliver noted in relief.


 "Well," he smirked, striding up to her. "There are two tickets in there. And I'm not saying you have to take me." He quirked an eyebrow. "But I would definitely like to see some photos from this trip."


 Chloe laughed and shook her head. "Perv," she accused.


 "Tease," he responded.


 "Sex-addict."


 "Hussy."


 "Womanizer."


 "Man-a...nizer?" Oliver finished the word awkwardly.


 Chloe broke into laughter. "Ollie, please don't ever send me a package at work ever again."


 "Fine, fine," he laughed, too. "Just promise me you'll go on the trip. No backing out at the last minute, okay? I don't care what comes up. I don't care if a giant meteor is headed straight for the planet. The JL and the rest of the world is going to make do without Chloe Sullivan for one weekend, got it?" He looked at her seriously, eyebrows raised.


 Chloe rolled her eyes, smiling.


 "I'm going to require a confirmation, Watchtower."


 "Affirmative," she rolled her eyes. "I'll take one weekend off. But that's all!" she added hastily, making sure that point was very clear. She didn't like the idea of leaving the boys alone, even for a weekend. She had a feeling all hell was going to break loose the moment she boarded the flight.


 Oliver grinned at her, apparently very entertained by something.


 "What?" Chloe demanded.


 "Have I ever mentioned that you're really sexy when you're angry?"


 "Careful, Queen. If I told a lawyer about some of the things you say, you'd be charged with sexual harassment faster than you can swipe a credit card."


 "Is that so?" he said, taking a step closer.


 "Yeah, that's so," she said, stepping closer herself.


 "Well then I might as well build up your case for you. You'll need it if you're taking on my lawyers." He pinched her ass and she squealed in shock.


 "Oliver!" she slapped his arm reprovingly.


 "Oh shut up," Oliver said, and, to her immense surprise (she honestly hadn't seen it coming), he wrapped an arm around her and kissed her, dipping her back Hollywood style. He set her back upright and she blinked, dazed. He repressed a smile. "Just remember," he said, brushing past her to go upstairs and change. "You don't have to take me with you. I'm just volunteering," he added from the stairs.