Chloe stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. The beads stitched into the sewed-in bolero of her dress caught the light like silverfishes. In contrast, the sequins around her legs danced like black lightening. The simple mousseline dress with its asymmetric skirt sparkled with life every time she moved. Tess clapped her hand. "I am a genius. Here, your mask."

The redhead slipped the beaded black mask with its large velvet strap around her head. The small black feathers contrasted with the curls she'd ironed into her hair. Chloe played with the three ranks of pearls. "Are you sure I can borrow this?"

"All course. I don't have the occasion to wear those, and pearls lose their gleam if they are not worn regularly."

"I thought that was ivory?"

Tess waved the correction away. "Stop arguing with your fairy Godmother, and go to the ball, Cinderella."

"I am not sure Cinderella dressed like a roaring twenties flapper."

"You're more than a flapper, darling, you're Gabrielle Channel. Now scoot. Go blow the mind of Al Capone."

Chloe grinned at the mention of Oliver's character for the night. They talked nearly every day since her hasty departure, sometimes just two minutes between his meetings, or for hours at night when she couldn't fall asleep. She was being silly, she knew. Letting her crush grow into infatuation like this would end up in pain or regrets, most probably both. But it made her happy, and she'd decided that she deserved that, if only for a little while.

"Wait! I want a picture. So when I can embarrass you at your wedding."

Chloe rolled her eyes, but struck a pose, one leg slightly bent at the knee, one hand on her hip, her other arm extended toward the ceiling.

"Perfect. Purse?"

Chloe held the small satin pouch bag up.

"Phone? Lipstick? Emergency kit?"

"In the purse."

"Condom?"

"Tess!"

"Just asking. Your cab is here. Enjoy!"

Chloe hurried out of the apartment before her friend reminded her she expected a full report—a fully detailed report— the following day—in the afternoon, because if Oliver let you out of his bed before that, I'll be awfully disappointed. Sometimes, Tess reminded her a little too much of Lois.

The oasis had set up the Masquerade in a former convent located at the edge of the modern part of Star City. The car crawled between fully grown hedges and iron fences, which, she knew, hid the houses and mansions of the oldest families of the city. She wondered if Queen Manor was somewhere in the vicinity, then dismissed the thought of asking Oliver later. He seldom spoke of his childhood or his parents.

Finally, they reached the convent estate. The sunset gave the gravelly lane a golden glow between lawns so green they almost glittered. Follow the yellow brick road to the Emerald City, Dorothy, she laughed to herself. The building itself was a large assembly of arcades and balconies in tones of grays and white. Some attendees strolled over, in couples or small groups. She counted two roman generals, at least three shepherdesses, and a pirate. They all wore cameras and press cards, so she guessed they were the few members of the press who had been allowed to cover the event.

Chloe paid her cab, promised to call for the ride back or anytime she needed a taxi, and walked toward the main doors. She fully expected to have to hand over her invitation to some rebarbative goons, and spelled out her name. Instead, Chloe found herself smiling at a group of teens disguised as Star Wars characters. "Thank Miss… You're good to go," R2D2 said. Then he leaned toward her to whisper-yell, "I would avoid the mini-pizzas if I were you, they have anchovies."

She winked at him. "Thanks for the tip."

The buffets and bars were scattered inside the corridor, and already packed. Chloe wandered around, unsure of what she should do. Besides Oliver, she didn't know anyone. She was pretty sure that Barbara Hall would be there somewhere as well, but she had no idea how she intended to dress, so her chance to find her were slim to none.

She chose to do a tour of the place first, then ventured into the cloister. Whoever the Oasis foundation had hired to decorate the old building had done a marvelous job. Dozens of oil lamps had been set-up on the window sills to illuminate the austere walls with joyful circle of light. At the same time, the subtle glow revived the spiritual power that once had dominated the building. Music drifted toward her, a mix of violin and piano she didn't recognize. But then, her knowledge of classical music was limited to the Nutcracker and some overplayed pieces by Mozart.

Her musing took her farther away from the door as she explored the premises. She accepted a flute of champagne from a passing waitress dressed like a personage out of some Jane Austen's novel. Some of the guests obviously liked to flash their wealth in expansive jewelry or over-the-top costumes, but everything to do with the Oasis was tasteful. So much like Oliver, Chloe thought, the Oliver she knew, not the one he sometimes chose to present to the world.

Chloe was so busy looking at various costumes that she tripped over the sword of an Egyptian God and barely avoided the splash when her flute tilted.

"Oh! Oh no, I'm so sorry… I wasn't looking where I was going. Did you get any of that?"

The tall, scruffy man barely blinked an eye. "All good."

"Really, I'm sorry…"

"Carter, are you— Oh! Chloe, you look amazing!"

Chloe blinked. The clipped voice was familiar, like the piercing blue eyes that inspected her from head to toe. The gold strapless sheath and heavy make-up, though, completely baffled her. "Barbara?"

The older woman held her chin up. "Hatshepsut, my dear. And this is my consort Thutmose II." She gave the man a little knock with the specter she held in one hand. Thutmose/Carter groaned. "She's supposed to be the queen, and I the pharaoh, but apparently, marriage doesn't work like that. Carter Hall."

Chloe shook his hand, amused by the dynamic between husband and wife. "Nice to meet you."

Barbara linked her arm under hers, escorting her through the crowd, and preventing an early escape. "Oliver is doing his thing with the photographers outside, he should be but a moment. Do you want a drink to replace that one?"

"I… Maybe something non-alcoholic if possible? Champagne and I… are not the best of friends."

Carter took the half-empty glass from her hand. "I'll get it. Virgin club soda? You'll stay in character, Mademoiselle…"

"Gabrielle Chanel. That would be great, thank you."

"Right up. And a whisky on the rocks for your Royal Highness, Lord of the Two Lands, Living Horus, Priest of Every Temple?"

Barbara answered the sarcasm with a saccharine smile and a "Thank you, darling."

Chloe enjoyed the glint in the older woman's eye while her gaze followed the retreating silhouette of her husband. Barbara caught her staring. "Twenty-two years and counting. He was a little slow to realize that lasting friendship is the best basis for a strong union. And I was enjoying sneaking around a little too much. He made every date an adventure. Laura laughed so hard when I told her… We weren't as discreet as we thought."

"Laura Queen?"

"Yes. She was more than my employer, she was my best friend, too. Oliver inherited her stubbornness, and her generous heart, even though he won't admit it. But he is his father's spitting image. If you want to see what he will look like in twenty years from now, look at a photograph of Robert Queen. I promise you, you won't mind him aging at all."

Chloe adjusted her mask, as the fabric was feeling a little warm on her cheeks. "Are you trying to sell him that you need to list his virtues?"

"I fear the list will be rather short if Barbara is to be believed."

A gloved hand captured hers and twirled her so fast she almost stumbled. Oliver steadied her with ease, before he brought her fingers to his mouth. The gallantry and his next words froze her on the spot.

"Welcome to the Emerald City, Dorothy."

When he lifted his head, smiling at her obvious shock, Chloe knew. The dark eyes caressing her face, partly hidden under a Borsalino hat, belonged to the Green Arrow.