Title: THE EDGE OF DESIRE
Fandom: Smallville-Chloe&Oliver
Timing: Set after Doomsday, going over season 9
Rating: R/M
Disc: If I owned Smallville, it would be called the Chlollie Show

A/N: Yes, I've entered the Chlollie zone.

Betareader: platysseus

The song featured in this fic: (in order)

Brand New-Daisy

Marie Mena-All This Time

Thirteen Senses-The Salt Wound Routine

The Damnwells-I Will Keep the Bad Things from You

Greg Laswell-And Then You

Anjulie-The Heat

The Edge of Desire

part one

I'm a moon that never shows its face. I'm a mouth that doesn't smile

I'm a word that no one ever wants to say...

When Jimmy died, it was like everything he had ever stood for crumbled before his very eyes. It was unexpected to say the least; it wasn't supposed to happen. Jimmy was supposed to be safe. Davis was supposed to be harmless; they had separated him from the monster, hadn't they?

And therein lay the rub.

It was stupid of him to believe that just because Davis was purely human then, that that meant he was all that was good and kind. He of all people; he who was fully human, who had darkness inside of him, should've known better.

He could blame Chloe for being so stupid, so naïve—he expected better from her. What was she thinking?

He could blame Clark for always, always trying to do the right thing, for not understanding that for people like them, more often than not, doing the right thing was not an option. That for people like them, they have to sacrifice their souls and do every dirty deed that needs to be done in order for other people—people they have the responsibility to protect—to have the chance, the opportunity, the choice to do the right thing.

He knocked back a shot of whiskey as he realized that it was his own damn fault, he—and Chloe—had enabled Clark, had killed and lied and snuck around to protect Clark's pure, self-righteous ass.

He could blame everyone he knew really for Jimmy's death. He could blame the whole damn world if he wanted but he knew Jimmy wouldn't be dead if he hadn't recruited him, if he hadn't asked him to sneak into Tess's office. He should've known that Jimmy would have run off to where Chloe was. He should've known that Jimmy wouldn't have been able to stay put and twiddle his thumb when the woman he loved was in danger.

He concentrated so much on dealing with the monster that he had forgotten about the human, and he out of all the others should've known how dangerous humans were. After all, he was the only full human in the League, and he out of all of them had brushed more than once with the darkness that everybody had inside them.

Every one of them had contributed to Jimmy's death, but he was the flashpoint. He was the trigger. He was the hand that had launched Jimmy into a situation that he had no business being in.

He was to blame...and he didn't know if he could live with that.

You self destructive little girl, pick yourself up don't blame the world

Chloe's fingers were rubbed raw, her back burned, her knees and eyes and even hair hurt. She had spent hours, hours cleaning the blood—she couldn't think of it as Jimmy's—from the floor. The smell of bleach singed her nostrils and she told herself that was why her eyes were wet.

The room was silent except for the sound of her scrubbing and sometimes she swore she could hear the sound of her tears splashing against the floor.

The Watchtower—she had gotten used to calling it that and had even laughed as she reminisced about the significance of that word to her—was still empty, she hadn't gotten around to filling it up yet.

Clark—she bit off a sob at the sound of his name in her head—told her to get rid of it but she couldn't, she refused to. Chloe Sullivan didn't run away from bad memories and it wasn't all bad, really.

She chose to remember this place as Jimmy's gift to her, something solid and strong as a reminder of his love for her, of how well he knew her.

And every time she sat by the window and marveled at the scenery outside, it was as if he was sitting right beside her. Jimmy had wanted this for her so here she would stay.

Clark was nowhere to be found, Lois was still missing, the League was scattered all over the globe and Ollie…Ollie had jumped into the guilt train: destination nowhere.

She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what she could do because what was a sidekick without a hero?

All she could do was wait and be ready when they snapped out of it.

Chloe sighed, rubbed her eyes tiredly, picked up the brush and scrubbed.

I'm all out of sync; I cover my cuts and hope they are fixed before I get hurt again

Oliver couldn't help wanting to smack himself over the head. Fortunately, someone else did it for him — with a closed fist. Oliver shook his head to clear it, and he just managed to dodge the next fist flying up to meet his face by good reflex alone. The roar of the crowd around him pounded inside his head, as did the rattling sound of the cage that trapped him and his opponent. He kneed the overly muscled man in front of him and dug his fists into his ribs; there was a satisfied smile on his face when he heard a sharp crack.

Usually, he was good at taking a beating and he often lost, but right now he felt mean. He pivoted on the balls of his feet and held his opponent's neck in a hold, and pummeled the guy's ribs until he could feel the bones give. He ignored the guy's scream of pain and delivered a sharp axe kick to the back of his neck.

He fell face-first onto the mat and didn't move.

Oliver could hear the tense silence around him even through the brutal drum of his heartbeat. He shuffled across the ring, pushed open the door, and left the arena without so much as a glance.

He was bored with this scene. Surely there were more exciting ways to kill himself?

I will keep the bad things from you

Green Arrow landed softly just outside Watchtower's window.

It had been a week since the whole Roulette fiasco happened and he was still amazed at the intricacy of Chloe's plans. On and off he wondered why she had even bothered.

The only answer he could come up with was because she was Chloe Sullivan; and Chloe Sullivan wouldn't—couldn't—leave a man behind.

He thought of all the things she had gone through to protect Clark; facing off the two nastiest father and son tag team billionaire evil masterminds, not to mention the meteor freaks and whatever the hell she had to go against for the safety of her friends.

Evidently, she also considered him a friend and not just another lost cause.

It was…staggering; the lengths she went to bring him back. He had always had different expectations for Chloe than he had for the other league members, mostly because he understood her more than most. He understood her protective streak, her cunningness, and her slightly bent morals because they mirrored his own.

What he didn't know was that she knew and understood him the way other people didn't.

Clark understood his need for justice. Lois understood his thirst for family, his vulnerabilities as a man. Yet Chloe understood each and every facet of himself; the man, the hero, and the darkness within. She not only understood it, she accepted it, acknowledged it.

If she hadn't, she wouldn't have been able to drag him back from the hell he was in. He could still remember how she had looked, sitting across from him at the coffee place. He remembered the utter conviction in her voice as she spoke to him.

You're a fighter, Oliver. You fought for yourself and for a second chance.

Even with your face in the gutter, you still had the hero in your heart.

Her words kept repeating inside his head and he couldn't help the swell of gratitude that erupted inside his chest every time he saw the little blonde. Of course, she also said that she didn't trust him all that much and he knew he had to earn back her trust; he wanted to earnback her trust and it would be a cold day in hell before he gave up on earning it.

He knew how lucky he was, how close to the edge he'd been before Chloe pulled him back using all the tricks that she had. And then some.

Earning back her trust had become his personal mission especially since he saw her own shade of darkness swirling around inside Chloe's sharp green eyes.

He thought he did that, they all did that. They had all left her when she needed them the most and they were all on her shit list even if she hadn't admitted it. They had abandoned her and their absence marked her; it had broken her somehow in ways that even she didn't understand.

But even so, here she was, back behind her computer, monitoring information, keeping them safe and secure, and aware of any situation that would help them out in their quest for justice.

Oliver watched Chloe drag herself back to her chair with a cup of coffee in one hand while the other rubbed her weary eyes. Nowadays she was stuck to her computers, isolated within the Watchtower. She hardly slept, hardly ate, she was all too focused on the mission. It was a surprise she hadn't burned out before this.

She had saved him—with him kicking and screaming all the way—and despite him owing her everything, she asked so very little of him. So he upgraded her tech every so often. He brought her coffee beans from all over the world whenever he was back from JL or Queen business trips . And he checked in on her from time to time.

It was the least he could do.

She probably knew he was there because of the security system, but she would never say anything about it. And he never brought it into discussion.

It was another secret shared between them.

How today sets me down alongside you

Chloe waited for Oliver to move back, but he didn't. In fact he leaned closer, his chin propped on the crown of her head. He let out a deep, low sound that made her stomach flutter. "Not bad for your first try, Chloe." He shifted and she could feel his chest brush against her back. "Here, try another one."

When the calluses on his fingers rubbed against the length of her arm, she turned to him and locked her green eyes on his ridiculously handsome face. A hand wrapped around her arm; his thumb brushing the inside of her elbow. He was standing way too close, but he didn't step back. He only cocked an eyebrow at her when she kept staring.

"What are you doing?" she asked, as blunt as ever.

She saw hesitation flicker over his face before a self-deprecating smile curved his lips. "What do you think I'm doing?"

He lifted a hand to touch her blonde curls and smiled wider when she gave him a 'don't play dumb with me' look.

After big bird's reminder had urged him to show more attention to the people around him; and after he had hung out with Chloe and J'onn Jonnz, he had fostered the habit of stopping by the Watchtower every so often more as Oliver Queen rather than Green Arrow. Something about the place—more precisely, something about the owner—soothed him; the smell of coffee, the sharp clacking of her fingers over the keys, Chloe's ability to exist without talking his ears off. He even enjoyed the way she bossed him around; he was on her turf, she said, he might as well do something useful.

She had even stopped asking why he was there all the time and just took his presence for granted. Just last week, she had asked him to stop for groceries if he was on his way to her place.

He was earning his place in her world and he was determined to keep it.

The fingers at her hair slid to her cheeks and her green eyes narrowed. "Oliver."

"I'm sure you know what I'm doing, Chloe."

"I think I have an inkling," she responded dryly. "The question is why, though."

"Why not?"

"We work together."

"So?"

"It's…icky."

He blinked. He never thought he would ever hear her use such a word as icky. "You think sex with me is icky?"

She edged back a little, not as a show of distance but because she was trying to get a better look of his face. "So, you're offering sex. And this is you—what? Seducing me?"

He could hear the incredulity in her voice and he just sighed over the dent on his ego. Trust Chloe. "Not working?"

"Oh, it's working. I just wanted to know why."

Chloe blinked when he flashed that famous smile at her. He was smiling more and she was glad for it but this, uh, turn of events kind of eluded her understanding.

"Why not, Chloe? It would simplify a few matters, wouldn't it? You know everything about me and I know more about you than anybody else. We're both alone. And you need me."

"I need you?"

Oliver flicked a finger against her nose. "Fun, remember?"

A smile finally spread upon her lips. She looked amused all of a sudden. "Sex with you is fun? That isn't what I've heard." She paused; a mischievous smile on her lips, "Or read."

This time it was him who gave her a look. "Have you been toying with gossip sites again?"

Her eyes sparkled, "It's fun reading what others think of you Ollie, and it pays to plant a few suggestions of your whereabouts just in case you need the alibi."

"You take such good care of me." He ran a hand down her back and she relaxed against him. He had noticed that—how she was always so conscientious about people touching her, as if she hadn't been touched a while, isolated as she was. It had taken her forever to get used to his touch. He kept smoothing a hand on her back until he heard her sigh.

"Ollie." His name was a whisper on her lips and it hung over them like a thread of moonlight. He leaned down and touched their foreheads together, his nose nuzzling hers in a gesture that was affectionate and warm. It made her smile and he suddenly wanted to feel the curve of her lips on his.

Her eyes were soft and vulnerable all of sudden. "I don't think it's a good idea."

Her breath misted over his skin; moist and sweet and he felt his stomach jerk. She was so soft and warm and she smelled like coffee, and his cheeks felt hot when her hair tickled them. Then there were her eyes; those big, green eyes. His arms went around her and pulled her closer. "Maybe it isn't." He was surprised by how raspy his voice was, by how fast he went from feeling buzzed by whiskey and the sight of a beautiful woman to overwhelming need. "But now, I can't find it within myself to care."

Stomach twisting, he waited for her to say something, push him away, whatever. They were two adults; they could deal with this without ruining their friendship, even as they worked together.

He sucked in a breath when she touched his jaw with her small fingers, rubbing softly on the dent of his chin. He moved back to see her eyes and he saw awareness in them. He brushed his fingers on her cheek and palmed her cheek gently. She leaned toward his touch and laughed softly.

"Woman, I'm trying to seduce you here. No fair with the laughing," he chided softly which, of course, only made her laugh even more and, honestly, he didn't mind. He liked watching her laugh and she laughed so little these days. "All right, what's with the laugh?"

She shook and dipped her head, giggling into his chest, her hands loosely held his waist. "It's just so surreal, you know."

"What is?"

Finally she looked up, her green eyes still lit from her laughter. "This. You, me; your indecent proposition."

The impish smile on her face delighted him. "Indecent? What's so indecent about two friends sharing pleasure?"

"If that's what you want to call it." She chuckled again.

"Hey," his smile slid away to a more serious expression and his hands made their way up her shoulders to hold her face between them, "Chloe. Let me take care of you."

Her eyelashes fluttered as she tried to understand what he meant. "You want to take care of me?"

He leaned closer and brushed his lips to hers—once, twice before lingering softly. "Someone has to."

He got the heat and he put it on me,

Like a spell from the devil, now I just can't beat the heat

She could've laughed out loud at the strangeness of this situation if she had any breath to spare, but Oliver was kissing her as if he needed her air to breathe. Skillfully, he had maneuvered them upstairs and had her clothes off before they'd even reached the bedroom. Despite his rush, there'd been no clumsy fumbling or hurried groping. No, Ollie was at his best playboy billionaire, top-notch lover personality. His hands were sure on her; gentle, yet firm. The calluses on his fingers scraped deliciously against her skin. He caught her lips in slow, measured kisses that heated her body up from the inside, showing glimpses of how that mouth would feel on her skin; teasing, cajoling. He was so controlled, so calm. She knew he was as insanely aroused as she was, but the tightly reined desire that tightened his muscles only made her feel all the more hotter for him. Impatiently she claws at his black t-shirt; a deep-throated chuckle climbed out of his throat when she tore it in her haste.

He bit her bottom lip, and then pushed her back on the bed before crawling over her. He took to her lips again. "That was a favorite."

"I'll buy you a new one."

Oliver couldn't remember anyone buying him anything. He snickered and continued running his mouth, tongue and teeth over every inch of her skin. He absorbed her scent and taste; he soaked in her gasps, sighs and moans. Despite her endless energy and big personality, she was still so small and delicate. He found his fingers flickering over her soft, soft skin, fanning the fire between them higher and higher.

Her fingers were on his belt buckle and he bit her neck. "What's your hurry?"

"I want you naked."

He grinned against one of her breasts before lapping a languid tongue over its pink hardened tip. Her fingers fumbled and dug into his shoulders instead. "And you said this wasn't a good idea," he teased.

"It's not." She gasped as he sucked, nipped and nibbled everything he could reach; and he could reach a lot.

"Yeah?" he asked as his tongue flickered on her hipbone, his fingers running all over her breast and ribs. "I think this is one of my most genius ideas."

"It would be genius if it was my idea. You only get as far as brilliant."

He nipped the inside of one thigh and was rewarded with a soft, helpless sound that knotted his stomach. "Yeah? How about that?"

Chloe figured she had stopped breathing but, damn, the man's tongue was so very talented. "Inspired, I guess, but, that's about it."

A warm, big hand pressed against her stomach to keep her in place, but when Chloe looked down she could see Oliver's eyes glittering with desire and amusement. Between her thighs; the one place she never thought she'd see them, or him for that matter.

She waited for that knowledge to weird her out, but he took that moment to dive in. She could hardly breathe let alone think. Her stomach coiled and tensed, her toes curled, her thighs trembled and sensations layered and built and built and built until—

She was still shaking when he hovered over her with a satisfied smirk on his wet lips. He ran a finger down the curve of her nose, "How about that?"

She may have just experienced the most amazing orgasm she'd ever had, but it would take more than that to take away her wit. "Oh," her voice wavered but she managed the offhand tone that she intended; she was even able to lift a hand to wave dismissively at him. "It was good enough."

When he kissed her this time, his chest rumbled with laughter against hers.

Okay, Chloe thought as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, Fun, right? I can handle fun.