Author's Comment: ...I'm not sure I have one. I think I was venting frustration with this piece. It was cathartic to write. Hope it's fun to read.

"Chloe, would you please just sit down, and do as I say?" Oliver demanded, practically shouted. He knew instantly that he'd said the wrong thing by the look of daggers Chloe gave him.

"Oliver," she said slowly, a lethal hint of acid in her voice, "are you my father?"

"No, but--"

"Oh, okay then. And the last time I checked you were not the President, nor were you even remotely close to being God, correct?"

"Chloe--"

"Okay, so as far as I can tell, you have absolutely no right whatsoever to be telling me what to do, do you?" she said bitingly, attempting to push past him to the door before being thwarted again and being pushed back a little to roughly by Oliver.

"I'm your friend, Chloe, and I care about you, and there's a reason none of us is letting you go. For the love of God, you know it's a trap! You know they're using Lois as bait to get to you and you honestly want to just walk right into it?" He looked at her incredulous, feeling his volume rise with each statement.

"I'm not just going to sit here useless while my cousin is in trouble, Oliver!" she said angrily.

"Oh yes you are! Clark and the others can more than handle this!"

"And you?" she looked at him, eyes narrowly.

"I'm staying here to make sure you are safe from the people behind this...and from yourself," he added irritably.

"So why is it okay for everyone else to go galavanting off into danger, but I can't even be trusted to look after myself, huh?"

"Because you're too rash and when it comes to your own safety you can't wait to get yourself killed!"

"That's not true!" she shouted at him. She turned around dropping furiously onto the couch. Oliver's muscles relaxed ever so slightly. "Anyway, why do you care? I'd think you'd be first to go after Lois," she said, knowing she'd hit a nerve.

Oliver's jaw clenched. "You would think that," he said.

"What?"

"You honestly think I don't care about your safety do you?"

"Well apparently you care enough to be my jailer," she said vexedly.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "You are impossible, you know that? You make everything absolutely impossible! I am so sick of dealing with you!" he knocked a stack of papers off of her desk in frustration.

He expected more yelling in response, maybe to have her throw something at him. He wasn't prepared for her to say nothing, to get up without looking at him and wordlessly start picking up the papers on the floor. She hadn't looked at him, but he'd seen it: her eyes had suddenly looked shiny with tears.

Feeling like the biggest jerk in the world, he could only watch her pick up the papers, knowing she wouldn't let him help her because she had "a system." It was when he heard the stifled sob that his heart absolutely broke in half.

"Chloe, I--"

"Shut up."

"Chloe, come on."

"I said to shut up," her voice said angrily, wavering to betray how hurt she was.

"I'm sorry, Chloe. I didn't mean--"

"What part of 'shut up' don't you understand?" she demanded, still not looking at him.

He crouched down next to where she was kneeling on the floor, shuffling the papers together. He took the stack of papers from her hands and carefully set them back on the desk.

"Chlo--"

But she ignored him, quickly turning from him, standing up and heading back over to the couch, leaving him on the floor without her.

"Leave me alone."

"Can't do it," he said, laughing weakly, not really finding anything about the situation humorous. He was fairly certain he hated himself in that moment.

"Why not?" she asked fractiously, pulling her knees up to her chest.

" 'Cause I'm stubborn and pigheaded?" he offered.

She said nothing.

He sighed. "Chloe, I know you're worried about Lois but she'll be fine. You can relax. We'll get her back to safety and have these guys safely behind bars before the sun comes up tomorrow. Guarantee it. You know Clark would never let anything happen to her."

Still no response.

"Chloe, really, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I said it without thinking." He looked at her and when she didn't acknowledge him he continued, "You just frustrate me really easily and if you want to know the truth it really stung that you think I don't care about you."

She sniffed and he couldn't tell whether she was still crying or whether she was scoffing at his statement.

He shook his head in exasperation. "Jeez you just haven't got a clue have you?"

To that she opened her mouth for a retort, but he wouldn't let her, standing up at last.

"You really haven't got a clue! I mean, come on, Chloe! Don't you think there's a reason I'm always so guarded around you? Did you honestly think it's because I don't like you?" he asked a little angrily.

Chloe frowned.

"I mean, you walk in here every day and you pay attention to every one but me, and if that isn't emasculating enough for me, you have to do it while wearing those blasted outfits of yours, so that there's no chance of my being able to concentrate on anything besides you! You blow me off for Clark on a regular basis, which drives me nuts because I'd really like to know when the last time was he thanked you for it, whereas I thank you not only sincerely but abundantly, and you never give it a second thought. And I have to watch you tolerate Bart's flirting when I'd secretly like to clobber him. For the love of God, I make special rounds past this place when I'm out patrolling just because I worry all the time about whether you're all right, and since you're not about to open up to me and let me know whether you're emotionally okay, I have to settle for making sure you're physically safe! It's maddening, you know that? And you actually accuse me of not caring?" He wasn't sure when he'd gotten so close to her, towering over her and the couch where she was seated insecurely. "You really are impossible, you know, that? I'm not sorry I said that! I'm sorry I said I was sick of you, and if it makes you feel better I'm not sick of you, I'm just sick of the amount of time I spend thinking about you, and I'm sorry as hell that I made you cry because now I feel like the most God-awful person on the planet! So yes, Chloe, you are impossible!"

He finally stopped, breathing heavily, and Chloe couldn't be sure whether he'd run out of things to say or simply breath to say it with, but she seized her opportunity. Standing up she pushed him back from her. "Jerk."

Oliver just stared at her, confounded. "WHAT?"

"How dare you just throw all of that at me and pretend it's somehow my fault that you are apparently the most emotionally constipated person on the planet! How on earth am I supposed to know you care about me? I'm not a mind reader, you--mmph!"

He'd grabbed her and pulled her into a violent kiss.

She shoved him off of her. "Don't you dare kiss me! Where do you ge--" He just rolled his eyes and kissed her again.

She let it carry on a little longer this time before gaining control of herself again and pushing him back once again. "You can't just do that!"

"What?"

"Kiss me without my permission like you think I'm not going to care!"

Oliver snorted and kissed her again. She tried pushing him off again, but he wouldn't let her. Finally, after she didn't give up, he released her lips. "What now?" he demanded irritably.

"I hate you."

He smirked.

"No you don't."

"Yes I--" It was no use, she thought. He'd just gone and brought his lips crashing back down on hers yet again. So she bit down on his lip, hard.

"Argh! Jeez, Chloe! What is wrong with you?" he asked, practically throwing her off of him this time, hand flying to his mouth. "Dear God! You drew blood!"

She smirked vindictively. "Serves you right!"

Oliver practically growled and before she knew it, he had a hold on her again. "You have ten seconds to explain to me why you don't want me to kiss you," he said, tightening his grip when he felt her trying to pull away again. "Ten."

"You're a jackass."

"I'm not. I just act like it. Eight."

Chloe's face was red in embarrassment and frustration. "I irritate the living daylights out of you, and you annoy the hell out of me!"

"Personally, the fact that you drive me crazy is kind of a turn on. And we both know you secretly love it. Four."

"You--you--" she stammered, to flustered and upset to find the words anymore. "You're a jerk."

"We already went over this one," he said smugly. "I'm not. I just act like it. Three."

"I--You--You--Darn it, Oliver, you still haven't even told me how you feel about me!" she heaved at him, making one last attempt to break his hold on her.

He shrugged, eyes laughing at her. "Did I not? Easily solved: I love you, Chloe Sullivan, you idiot." With that he leaned in and kissed her once more. This time she didn't push away, and he loosened his grip on her. She simply stood there, surprised, letting him kiss her, too shocked to think straight.

He sighed and pulled away. "This is a lot better if two people do it, you know," he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

She rolled her eyes, slowly coming back to herself. "Nothing's ever good enough for you, is it?"

She thought about smacking him for the blatant smirk that spread across his face at that. "You are," he said, wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her flush against him.

She caught her breath in spite of herself. "If you think you can just come in here and yell at me and treat me like an idiot, and force yourself on me--" she threatened.

"What?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh just shut up," she said, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him down to her, kissing him as hard as she could.

His chest resonated with a deep chuckle in response.

"Jerk," she said irritably into his mouth.

"You love it," he said as she felt him smirk against her lips.