Chloe contemplated the choice of outfits in front of her. She knew she looked good in the button through shirt dress. The kaki color and elegant building-in tie-belt gave it a safari look that fit her personality: curious and cautious. Plain. She sighed. The white capri and Breton stripped cotton sweater on the other end, had the flair of casual chic that would be perfect… for a day at a Country Club. Chloe growled. She wanted to appear confident not boring or snooty.

Why did she even care? The man had had his first impression of her always, a faint-of-heart brat who ran head-first into trouble.

Annoyed with herself, Chloe picked the three-quarter sleeved sweater and extracted a pair of white shorts from the dresser. She liked that top. And Turkish weather was hot so shorts made total sense.

The rescue meant nothing. Oliver would have gotten them out as soon as she'd come back to her senses. He'd dallied because she'd asked him not to leave her alone in the dark. Because he was a good man. A good man didn't leave people behind, family or friends.

Thinking about Oliver turned her mood from peeved to giddy. There was flirting and flirting. Yesterday's night was nothing like their usual friendly, more or less platonic, doesn't-mean-anything banter. He was redefining the limits of their friendship and she didn't know what to make of it. At first she thought he was just teasing her, but the look in his eyes when he told her about the night they'd met and his sabotage of Lois' challenge… She didn't dare hope he was serious.

A racking sound outside pulled her out of her musing. Chloe dressed quickly and stepped out on the terrasse.

As she expected, Oliver was setting the table for breakfast. He already put some sliced plums and berries on a plate with what looked like Greek yogurt. More fruits waited for her in a small bowl filled with ice next to a pot of coffee. His tea seeped by his elbow.

He'd traded the jeans and tee-shirt he normally favored for a Ralf-Lauren polo that stretched over his chest and an impeccable pair of chinos. Chloe bit her top lip. From his expensive loafers to the pair of aviator sunglasses, he looked very much the part of the relaxing billionaire. The charisma he exuded was effortlessly welcoming and intimidating all at once.

She approached the table slowly, fighting not to dry her palms on her shorts.

"Good morning…"

Oliver lifted his head from his bowl and smiled. "Hey… Did I wake you?"

He stood to pull her chair before filling a mug for her. Her nerves tightened just a touch more.

"No, I was up." Chloe took her coffee from him to doctor it herself. "Do you have a photoshoot for GQ Sport-Yacht edition later?"

Oliver grinned, eyes wide in mock surprise. "It's scheduled right before your Sport-Illustrated Swimsuit one. How did you guess?"

Her gulp of coffee went down the wrong pipe. Chloe coughed, gagged, flushed, coughed some more, all the while fumbling for a napkin.

"Sorry." A tissue and a glass of iced water appeared in front of her watery eyes while she shot daggers at him. "You're okay?"

The cad was laughing at her. He presented a contrite face but she was sure the chocolate eyes he was hiding behind his Raybans danced.

"I…" gasp "hate…" cough, gasp. "you."

"I hope not, it would put a serious dent in my plans."

"Don'… don't care."

The cold water soothed her abuse airway. "I'm really sorry."

Chloe slapped his hand away when he tried to rub her back. She grumbled. "It's all hands on deck again this morning, apparently."

Oliver started in surprise. "What?"

As if he didn't realize he used every possible excuse in the book to touch her. She snorted into her tissue then blew her nose for good measure. Liquid raising up your sinuses was uncomfortable, but when it was hot, it hurt.

Chloe's gaze cleared at last to find what looked like a waterproof package in front of her. "What's that?"

Oliver leaned back to pick up the coffee pot and refilled her cup. "A new phone. I don't know how yours handled last night's free-fall escapade, but mine didn't survive. I had AC dropped them early this morning."

Chloe beamed. "AC is here?"

She stretched her neck to look at the pool, wondering if perhaps Aquaman was recharging at the bottom and she hadn't noticed until now. Oliver shook his head. "No, he had to go back. Said to say hello, and that Mera misses you."

Chloe grinned. The Atlantean Warrior Princess fit Arthur's lay-back personality like a Bonnet a wild cat, with the redhead in the role of the cat.

"Which is code for "my fiancée is driving me nuts with her questions about land-crawlers' handfasting customs, please come back and save me"."

Oliver grinned back. "Most probably."

The sun reflected on his sunglasses. Chloe ducked her head to avoid the glare.

"So you're all right? Your wrist doesn't hurt anymore?"

"I'm fine, Oliver. See?" She rotated her hand to show him. "I slept like a baby." Se tried to recall about her dreams. She remembered feeling warm and sated, anchored in her own body and swimming in the clouds, the taste of chocolate on her tongue. "You?"

Oliver gulped down some tea. "Good."

She didn't have time to ponder if he meant he was glad she'd rested, or he'd slept well too. A knock loud enough to rattle the door echoed through the house. Oliver put his cup down. "So much for a little moment to ourselves first."

He lowered his glasses to stare at her. "Are you ready?"

No.

"Yes."

He stood. "All right. I'll get him."

For a second, she could do nothing but stared.

She'd seen photographs of the man who stepped on the terrace, seen him move on video feeds. But cameras couldn't capture the power that exuded from him, the raw energy he seemed to keep on a very tight leach.

Oliver was muscular in a corded, almost feline way. Carter Hall was built like a fighting bull. Just above six feet, his whole being was large. Large shoulders, broad chest, big hands, strong legs. Her eyes traveled back up to his face and met a pair of sea-blue eyes that left her at a loss of words.

"You look just like your mother."

The comment snapped Chloe out of her daze.

"I'm Chloe."

She gave her name without moving from her seating position, not even seating straighter like instincts told her to. Hall took her indolent posture with a thundering eyebrow. Oliver apparently decided that he didn't need to stand guard and retook his place at the table.

"We were having breakfast."

The man—her potential father— glowered further. Oliver waved at the third chair. "Coffee? Or tea?"

"Coffee's fine."

Chloe saw Oliver's mouth twitch as he filled a third cup. "Cream?"

She wanted to laugh. Her hero pressed on. "Sugar maybe?"

Carter's clear eyes blazed. "Are you naturally a jackass in this life or are you playing it up just for my benefit?"

Oliver opened his mouth, probably to antagonize the man further considering the way his eyes crinkled. Chloe beat him to the punch. "What do you mean in this life?"

It wasn't the question she wanted to ask, but the off-hand comment bothered her. Oliver put the sugar bowl down. His empty hand settled on his knee under the table.

Carter cleared his throat. "My name now is Carter Hall. Before that I was Hannibal Hawkes in the Wild West, Carlo Salon in Spain and John Smith in New England. And before that I was a hunter on Easter Island and a knight in Roman Britain. I have lived many lives, and I am cursed to remember them all. I first came to the world in the Royal house of Egypt and was known as Prince Khufu. I shared my days with Shayera, High Priestess of Isis."

Chloe gawked. Her mind reeled between laughter and cries, unable to choose, even less to put into words the billion thoughts flashing by.

"Must be nice to move around with so many names and not being recognized. Wish I could." Oliver clucked his tongue. "How about you try again, and put your heart into it this time?"

He aimed at the mid-aged man with a small crossbow she hadn't even realized he had on him, his Green Arrow's lethal smirk firmly in place.

Carter Hall ignored him. Instead, he turned to address Chloe. "You work with metahumans and you've seen more than any other beings on this planet. Surely reincarnation isn't that farfetched."

"How do you know about what I do?"

"I live in Metropolis."

"Thousands of people do. They don't know about metahumans, though," Chloe countered.

We'd be in huge trouble if they did.

"I…" the man faltered for the first time since he'd stepped onto the terrace. In the blink of an eye, the strict control he exuded was gone, replaced by tiredness. "I promised Moira."

Chloe felt her heart jumped its way up her throat and her eyes wet. Oliver's foot found hers under the table. The contact grounded her, giving her the confidence she needed to say it. "You're my father."

Carter shook his head, regrets hidden once more behind an iron-clad will. "No. Not in the way you think."

He took a sip of coffee. Chloe couldn't get herself to imitate him.

"Your mother worked with my wife at the library. Shayera was also the Society Archivist. When she was murdered, Moira asked to take her place. I refused. Her involvement with the JSA would have just worsened her problems with Gabriel Sullivan."

"The JS… Oh shit, you're Hawkman!"

Chloe jolted at Oliver's exclamation. She turned to him, baffled to see him put his weapon away. "The Justice Society of America was a group of heroes," he explained quickly. "They operated out of Metropolis for nearly three decades until a corrupted politician rooted them out."

Her eyes turned round. Oliver answered her surprise with a sheepish grin. "I found out about it while I was playing with ideas for the team."

She smiled softly at him in return. How very much like Oliver to consider every angle before moving forward. For a hot-headed hero, he spent more time than he was willing to admit in planning. Oliver' smirk gentled as he felt her gaze caress his face.

Carter ripped the tender moment apart. "You have your answers. Now you leave Turkey. There's nothing for you here."

He pushed to his feet.

"Not so fast Big Bird." Oliver moved fast to plant himself between Carter and the door. "I have a few questions left."

"Get out of my way."

"How did you know we were here? Why did you follow us to the Akropolis?"

Carter glowered. Oliver sneered. Chloe interrupted when she saw a vein pulsed on the neck of the older man. What was wrong with these two?

"That's a good question, Mr. Hall."

"I promised Moira I'd watch over you."

"Chloe is safe with me."

This time the blonde woman bristled. Insufferable, the lot of them. "I don't need anyone's protection I can take care of myself!"

Oliver's eyebrow shot up to call her on her statement. She glowered back. "Don't give me that look, Mister, I—"

"Savage can't know who you are!"