Chloe ran. Her heart pounded its way out of her chest with every beat. Her vision was blurry, but with miles of beige sand in front of her, it didn't matter. She ran. When she couldn't breathe anymore, she slowed down to a brisk walk, her hands digging into her side to ease the pain there. She walked slightly hunched forward, not thinking, only concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. Then she heard a purr behind her. The noise grew louder and louder until it drowned the pounding of blood in her ears. Frantic, she casted a glance over her shoulder.

Sure enough, a black and green motocross was closing on her. She tried to pick up her pace again but the stitch in her side wouldn't let her. Her breath shortened again, to the point she felt dizzy. Chloe stumbled. She clenched her jaw, straightened up and took a few more steps before she collapsed on her knees.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay… I've got you…" Strong arms closed around her. "I've got you."

Chloe instinctively pulled away, and lost her footing in the wet sand. She bit by a moan as her ankle twisted.

"Chloe I am not going to hurt you…"

"Stop saying that!"

I'm scared someone overhears you. I'm scared to be found. I'm scared of my own name…

She closed her eyes, fighting to take large gulps of air while keeping tears at bay. Large hands settled on her shoulders, rubbing her arms up and down gently. Her revolted stomach stopped heaving. Her lungs started mimicking the soothing rhythm. The dizziness stayed even as she drank in oxygen.

When the world stopped reeling, Chloe lifted her face toward the man holding her. His dark eyes and attractive face conveyed only concern. The well-defined mouth curved into a kind smile. For a man so large, whose power matched the Luthors' and with a playboy reputation as bad as Bruce Wayne's, Oliver Queen managed to look surprisingly inoffensive.

She looked away again, stumbling in her effort to stand. He climbed to his feet as well, not touching her this time but close enough that she could reach out if she needed to. His calm grounded her. She managed a smile. "I… Thank you. Thank you, I am fine."

The man narrowed his eyes slightly, watching her like a hawk while she steadied her footing. Chloe realized she had to give something before he started asking questions.

"It's been a long morning and I needed some peace and quiet to gather my thoughts. I didn't realize… I was daydreaming, I guess… It's beautiful out here… You startled me and I freaked out when you pointed out I was trespassing and I talked back at you. I didn't mean to… To be rude. Or intrude. I… I'll just… Go. Yes, that's it. I'll go. You don't have to do anything. I'm fine. Really. I'm fine."

Chloe stopped talking. Chloe Sullivan wasn't a babbler. Chloe looked at friends and foes in the eye and said what she wanted to say, heads on. But more importantly, Chloe never blustered out her secrets to strangers. Ever. She didn't recognize herself anymore.

She clenched her teeth. If Queen didn't buy her story, she'll have to get away from Star City, fast. Go back to the apartment, pack and be gone within an hour. Lay low in a hotel out of the way until she could think clearly enough to design her next step. Find a way to let Lex know she'd screwed up. Disappear again…

"Chloe…" she tensed, unsure of what she could do to stop him from pushing without betraying herself. Unless she used the ultimate weapon, and actually allowed herself to cry. Men hated tears. Turn big, shiny eyes on them, and they would just do anything you ask. It'd worked on her father many times. On Clark, not so much, but she had had other means to bring him to heel. Queen reached for her hand again. "I can help you."

Her throat tightened so hard it hurt. She could almost hear Lois' unconditional faith in her in his offer. She'd never missed her cousin so fiercely. Chloe forced herself to breathe, counting between inhale and exhale to strengthen her voice before she answered. "Thank you, but it's not necessary. Really, everything's fine. I'll get out of your hair."

"I'll take you where you need to go, then." She stared as a new smile erased concern from his face to ooze only charm. "What kind of gentleman would I be if I let a beautiful woman walk to…?"

Damned it. The man was persistent. There was no way in hell she was telling him she lived in his home town. He was already too curious for her peace of mind. No matter. She'd dealt with curious, attractive men before.

"The bus station?"

Her answer sounded more like a question than she intended but all things considered, she'd take it. Oliver Queen chuckled. "You're a harsh woman, Chloe… Crush a man's hope, why don't you?"

She breathed a little easier at that. Chloe met his impish grin with one of her own. He straightened up his bike and fished a helmet from a niche under the saddle before he handed to her. "All right then. I know when I am being given the brush-off. The bus station it is… Hop on."

Chloe eyed the bike with a frown. "On that death trap? Who's the harsh one exactly?"

"Scared?"

His tease made half of her brain cells swoon. The other half remembered what it felt like to challenge the great and the good. She could outwit Oliver Queen, dazzling smile or not.

"Concerned," Chloe retorted. She brushed sand off her dress. "I am not exactly dressed for an enduro."

"I'll be gentle. I promise."

Dang, I walked right into that one. Chloe rolled her eyes and fumbled with the helmet, doing her best to ignore the mischief glint in his eyes.

Once she was situated with her arms secured around his waist, Oliver gunned the motorcycle. He concentrated on driving on the stripe of packed sand along the shore, avoiding both the waves and the looser areas.

The woman pressed against his back distracted him. He enjoyed bantering with her. She was pretty, in that enticing, mysterious way women had before they discovered the full power of their charms, or when they refused to use it.

Shaking his head, Oliver veered the bike on the left to climb up the steep rocky slope. Going up this way wasn't the smoothest access to the main road. But it was either that, turning back to go through the house's main entrance—which he'd rather avoid since paparazzi tended to flock around him like fleas on a stray dog whenever he came back to the Golden State from a trip abroad— or make a scene on the beach.

He felt Chloe's grip tightened around his midsection. Despite her misgivings about the bike, it was clear she had ridden one before. Her hold was firm but not crushing. She kept her balance easily and did not to hinder his movements with her knees or feet. If not for her panic attacks every single time he used her name—yeah, he'd noticed that detail— the ride could have felt like a date. If you discounted the fact he was wearing swim trunks, that he really need a shower, and that she wanted nothing to do with him.

He particularly liked how her eyes widened or narrowed on him. Their deep green shimmered with her bottled up emotions. She looked so young… Too young to know how to keep such a tight lead on her feelings. Hal was right, he did have a type: damsels in distress.

The front tire failed to bite into the rocky slope. The bike skid slightly, before it found traction again and they crawled their way up. By himself, he would have stood up on the pedals to help the motion, but there was no way to help the gravity of their combined weights. The tire slid again. Oliver gritted his teeth. He shifted down to give the engine a little extra power. Chloe's hold on his waist was slipping. Shit. If she let go now…

A petite hand patted his stomach. Once. Then again. Telling him to stop. He angled the bike against the slope and stilled them.

Chloe pushed the visor up. "It'll be easier if I finish this on foot."

He wanted to protest, and started to, but the look in her eyes shut him up. "Go on first. I'll join you once you're up the slope."

She had already turned on her heels, and started up the goat trail. Must be the rescue of the century, Queen : the princess has to hike her way out of the sand castle. He shifted on the saddle and the bike almost toppled over. Damnit, he'd nearly broken both their necks here. What was he thinking? Angry with himself for even attempting the dangerous climb, Oliver focused on the petite silhouette moving up the path.

She'd put her shoes back on. Somehow she managed to look graceful negotiating the thirty percent rocky slope on compensated heels. He forced his eyes off her backside, but ogling her legs wasn't any better. His eyes happily traveled up to her lower back once more. He stopped fighting the urge. After all, he needed to know that she was safe and sound so he could follow up the slope with the bike. Stick to that one as long as you can, pal…

It took a handful of minutes, just long enough for the sway of her hips to become an indelible mark in his brain. Then, finally, she fluttered her hand at him. She was too high up to be sure, but Oliver suspected she was smirking.

He restarted the bike, stomped on the pedals, and started to climb.