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A/N: This was inspired by Taylor Swift's "Enchanted" and written for the Chlollie livejournal event, Chlolliedays. Enjoy!
Enchanted
Laughter ceasing, Chloe replaced it with a feigned smile. Mr. Bruce Wayne was a charming man with character, but she was tired of the same old jokes. She was tired of it all. It was the same routine, high society party after high society party, and when a person attended that many socialite events, they tended to get drab. At least for her they did. Tonight, Clark couldn't even accompany her. He was chasing a lead with Lois. Apparently, the mayor took priority over a rich playboy. She wondered how Mr. Wayne would feel about that. Then again, he didn't know what she and Clark did. He didn't realize they were in on his little dark secret.
Excusing herself from the group, the walls decked with merriment for the holiday season, Chloe headed for the balcony doors. It was much too cold to head outdoors for some fresh air, but at least, she could watch the snow fall beyond the glass. That made visiting Gotham City worthwhile, it made it that much brighter.
Tonight's event entailed gathering money for children who wouldn't have a Christmas morning, not like the ones she had as a child. There would be no chaos of colorful wrappings, no impossible threads of metallic tinsel to clean up, and no toys. Mr. Wayne arranged for all the elite citizens to put money out there for children to have a warm and merry Christmas. She saw the sincerity in Mr. Wayne's eyes, but the Luthor's', who she was accompanying tonight on account of Mr. Luthor being her father's boss, and the rest of the high class citizens, they were just here to outbid each other. They were here to flaunt their cash flow. These walls were filled with nothing more than insincerity, and she loathed very bit of it. She'd much rather be at the Daily Planet exchanging secret Santa gifts with Lois, or did she have Jimmy Olsen this year?
Eyes shifting around the merriment, women in Oscar worthy dresses and men tailored in immaculate suits, she caught sight of an unfamiliar face. With her gaze lingering longer than it should have, her curiosity caught the best of her. Long thin face, dimpled chin, and piercing eyes in a deep shade of brown made her tingle with inquisitiveness. All she could think was that she was enchanted by his presence.
As if feeling her eyes upon him, he turned in her direction, taking part in the staring contest she seemed to be solely engaged in.
Shyly turning away from the embarrassment of having been caught in the act, Chloe turned away, but not before she caught his eyes, whispering, "Have we met?" Have we met? Yes, there was something familiar about him, but she couldn't quite place her finger on it just yet. Gaze held steady upon the wall, blank except for an outline of twinkling gold lights and a few wall hangings, she saw his silhouette start to make its way towards her from across the room.
Rosy cheeks turning rosier, she braced herself for the tall blonde's presence. He stopped a few feet before her, holding out his hand with a crooked smile plastered to his lips. Dazzled, enchanted, whatever the word, her knees felt as if they had turned to jelly. No one, not even the handsome Mr. Wayne, had ever conjured this sort of reaction from her, but this stranger, whoever he was, had. Holding out her hand, she watched as he planted a gentle kiss to it. "Oliver Queen," he charmingly introduced himself.
Smile fading, she now realized the familiarity of his presence. Why, he was Oliver Queen, billionaire playboy plastered across practically every magazine thinkable. Besides, she'd written a few pieces on his company before, but never once had the chance to meet him. He and Mr. Wayne didn't seem to see eye to eye for some reason. Although to her, they seemed more alike, at least at face value. However, what exactly did Mr. Queen have to offer the world? Orphaned at a young age, he'd been stranded on an island for nearly two years after having been ship wreaked. Wild cruise, not how she'd ever start off college.
Pulling her hand back, she stated, "Chloe Sullivan."
"Intrepid reporter," Oliver beamed back.
Smiling, she continued, "Not exactly."
"I've read your articles, Miss. Sullivan, and I know you cover what others choose to hide."
"Out of fear."
"But not you."
Smile morphing into a grin, she decided she liked this Oliver Queen a bit more than the image the tabloids had laid out for him.
"I'm sorry, but I've never seen you here before?"
"You haven't?" she blinked, "Well, this isn't exactly my kind of scene."
Chuckling, he leaned a bit forward, whispering, "It's not really mine either."
"A rich man such as yourself?"
"You've been to one event you've been to them all."
"Then why are you here?" she couldn't help but ask, placing a hand to her hip.
Stuffing a hand into a pocket of his pants, he studied her heart shaped face as if checking for something genuine. A quick moment later, he said, "To make sure those kids get a merry Christmas, not like the one's I've had."
"Toys don't make Christmas, Mr. Queen," she grinned.
"I didn't have family either," he added as if already knowing what she'd say, "Miss. Sullivan."
"Call me Chloe."
"Call me Oliver, or if you want, Ollie."
"Ollie?" she questioned, quirking an eyebrow.
"All those close to me do."
"I thought you didn't have much of a family?"
Exuding a humorless laugh, he nodded. "I do now."
Keeping up her quirked brow, she kept up her peculiar expression.
"Family doesn't need to be blood related, Chloe," the tall blonde stated, turning to the large panes of frosted glass that depicted a blurred version of the Gotham City skyline. It was beautiful, blinking with lights of holiday cheer that made the city that much brighter, even in its reign of darkness.
Chloe nodded, pressing the tip of her index against the cooled glass. Despite having her father and her cousin, Lois, in her life, she still knew that family didn't necessary involve similar genes or blood types. No, Clark was just as much of a member of her family as Lois was, and she knew that extended to Mrs. Kent and Lana as well. Plus, she now had a league of superheroes and new brotherly relations in Bart, AC, and Victor.
"But you still avoid the holidays like the plague," she voiced aloud, "why?"
"How would you know?"
"I've spent every Christmas Eve at the Wayne mansion for the past few years, and not once have I seen you," she countered.
He turned to her. She was good. Not many could see through the façade Oliver Queen had built up for himself, but this stranger, she could. "Christmas doesn't hold many fond memories for me," he confessed, "I was an orphan in a big mansion. Let your imagination work that out."
Nodding in understanding, Chloe sent him a sympathetic smile. "Well, at least I'm assuming that's changed."
"And why would you think that?"
"You're here, aren't you?"
He looked at her then, from that giggle of a smile he was sure she could have patented, to the way her wide moss-green eyes twinkled under the bright lighting, and the way she looked in her green satin dress. Green. Oliver silently laughed for it was a color he had a strange fetish for. This Chloe Sullivan was beautiful to say the least, and with a striking intelligence that flawlessly flew off her. Shifting his body to face her fully, he pressed his shoulder into the panes of glass, leaning his weight against them. "Well, Miss. Sullivan, how about a dance?"
Blushing, she was surprised their conversation had taken a more intimate turn. Dancing? She'd given that up since her first high society event, one where Clark had forced her to step onto the ballroom floor. Since then, the events boring her like no other, she'd sequestered herself into a corner, often speaking with Clark and discussing the more secret events of their lives.
"I'm not that bad of a dancer, Chloe."
Grinning, she dropped her palm into his. "Alright, prove it."
Saying Oliver Queen had two left feet would have been the understatement of the century, an opinion Chloe found to hold much truth the moment he drifted her towards the dance floor. Gliding across the floor with Oliver made her feel like a princess, the party's own personal "It Girl"; something she thought was only possible for the Lois's and Lana's of the world. She countered all his quick remarks throughout their playful conversation, where she learned he was less of the man the world perceived thanks to the tabloids. He was more…genuine…and she was…enchanted…
Laughter ceasing, their dancing came to an abrupt halt the moment Chloe felt a tap to her shoulder. Turning her head to face the source of interruption, she found that it was her father, and it was indeed time to go. Glancing at the clock only confirmed her dreaded realization, which was ironic. Usually she was the one begging for leave long before the time gave her permission.
Cheeks bearing that godforsaken tint, she slipped away from Oliver with a mumbled goodbye, blushing every step of the way. Speaking with him was like passing notes in secrecy. When they were on the dance floor, everything else faded into the background. Nothing else felt important. Nothing else mattered.
xoxoxox
Pacing back and forth in her Smallville bedroom, Chloe's tired eyes shifted to the clock tacked above the door. 2 am. It was 2 am. The lingering question had kept her up. Who did Oliver Queen love? Sighing, she took a seat upon the edge of her bed. This was utterly ridiculous, how could she let a one time meeting work her up like this? Besides, she knew about Oliver's playboy record. He went from one girl to another, and faster than the speed of light. Still, she wanted him to know…For some reason, he had enchanted her. Chloe Sullivan was under his spell. Now, more than anything, she wished he was at her door, and that he'd tell her that he too was enchanted by her presence.
xoxoxox
Yawning for what felt like the umpteenth time, Chloe took a break from typing and took a large gulp of coffee, letting the liquid burn its way down. It was well into the afternoon, and the Kent Farm was glistening with holiday cheer and the sparkle of sunlight through the windows.
"It's Christmas."
Looking up from her laptop, Chloe met the soft baby blues of her alien of a best friend. "I know, but I have to finish the article on Bruce's event if I want the Planet to publish it in the next edition."
"Shouldn't reporters be allowed breaks?"
Glancing over Clark's shoulder, she could see her cousin, Lois, caroling along with Mrs. Kent…caroling off key that is. "Well, Lois certainly seems to think so," she stated with a wrinkle of her nose.
"And what do you think?"
"Do heroes get breaks?"
"Chloe?"
"Answer the question, Clark."
Rolling his eyes, he took her hand. "I thought I'd give you your Christmas present."
Eyes lighting up with pure curiosity, Chloe stood up from her chair. "And that would be?"
"You'll need your coat and Bart."
"Please don't tell me my present involves Bart and a snowy magical kiss under the mistletoe."
Chuckling, Clark stated, "Unfortunately no, but it does include his lightening fast abilities to speed you over to the Isis Foundation."
Eyeing the brooding brunette carefully, Chloe asked, "And why can't you…"
"Do you want to meet the Green Arrow or not?"
Forgetting about her initial question, Chloe let out a rather girly squeal, and dashed for her coat. She and Clark and been working to recruit the Green Arrow into their merry band of heroes, and so far, she hadn't even met him. Well, unless she counted that one time he rescued her from an almost mugging. Then again, Mrs. Kent had warned her to never wander the streets of Metropolis at night, it was no Smallville.
Hand poised to grab a hold of the doorknob, Chloe paused, catching the front page of a rather wet issue of the Daily Planet. Picking up the newspaper, she smiled at the image of the billionaire she was most enchanted to meet. Turning to Clark, she asked, "What do you think of Oliver Queen?"
Breaking into an uncharacteristic cough, Clark pushed the door open and headed out into white Christmas Smallville had been blessed with.
Shaking her head, Chloe followed her tall best friend out into the winter wonderland, not bothering to even begin to dissect Clark's odd behavior. All she hoped, all she prayed for, as she tucked the soggy newspaper under arm, was that last night wasn't where her and Oliver's story ended. In fact, she hoped it was just the very first page because she was positive her thoughts would echo his name until she saw him again. And those were the words she held back as she was leaving too soon.
Please don't be in love with someone else
Please don't have someone waiting on you…
Fin!