Chloe stared at the chat window with wide eyes, both hands slapped over her mouth. What an idiot! There was no way he'd missed that. The name was right here on the chat log, punctuated with exclamation marks. Her stomach rolled dangerously. She took short, shallow breathes to calm down. Now what was she supposed to do?

EmeraldArcher : ETA five minutes.

Well, that answered her question. Chloe looked down at her attire. She'd put on jeans and a hoodie over her pajamas after her shower. Not the best shield against an angry vigilante. She ran to her bedroom to forage through her drawer, selecting a bra and tee-shirt at random. The knock on her window sill started her.

"Nice view."

Chloe adjusted her top in hast. "Oh, shut up Oliver."

Right, tell the man armed with arrows to shut up. Good one, Chloe.

His jaw ticked. "Grab your things. We're going to the penthouse."

She swallowed. Of course, hoping they could talk in her apartment was a bit of a stretch, but to confront him on his turf, with no back-up… Chloe rolled her eyes. Who was she kidding, she had no back-up here either.

"All right."

She felt his stare on her even as she hurried to collect her purse in the living room. The poor bag deformed under the weight of the laptop. She was already at the door when she realized he was pointing in the other direction, toward the balcony.

"You're kidding, right?"

"I'd rather no one see you exit the building."

Oh, that didn't bode well. Chloe gulped. He seemed even more muscular in his Green Arrow gear. The arms she'd admired once or twice budged against the leather band around his biceps and the strap on his forearm.

"I don't have all night, Chloe."

The guttural growl sent shivers down her spine, not a good way.

The cable hanging from the balcony above her looked horribly thin. The man holding the grapple way too large. She closed her eyes tight, fighting to control the panic raising. Chloe held on for dire life to his neck as he hurtled them through the air without warning. She would have fallen forward if not for his hands on her waist when her feet found purchase on the gravel two stories down.

"See, piece of cake."

All she heard was a mad cackle that made her heart fly to her throat, her diner right after it. She whizzed, "I am going to be sick…"

Oliver squeezed her hips, tilting her chin up to look into her eyes. "Hey, hey, look at me." The hood still masked most of his face, but the angle of his jaw and nose was familiar. "You're fine. It's me. I've got you. You're going to be fine…"

Glove thumbs brushed small circles on her cheeks. Air stopped becoming an issue, just. Oliver smiled. "All right. Let's go home."

The ride was a blur. The man in front of her was both familiar and foreign. Still solid, still warm, but leather and sweat spiced the scent she'd grown accustomed to. The back of his costume sported lacerations and small tears she'd bet where not there when he'd headed out earlier this evening. Chloe concentrated on that, rather than the dizzy speed he'd imprinted to the bike.

Instead of entering Queen Industries garage, she noticed he guided the motorcycle to an arch in some sort of loading area behind the Elysian gardens. From there, they followed a corridor down to a different lift than the one she'd used before.

He dismounted the bike as they started their ascent, and the Green Arrow transformed into Oliver, sheepish smile included. "So I guess I suck at the whole double identity thing, huh?"

With the hood pushed back, the glasses off and the distorter disconnected, Chloe lungs finally agreed to take in more than whisps of air. She let out a cleansing breath. "I already knew… I— Oh wow…"

The doors opened into a cavernous space, probably the same size of his penthouse if someone tore all the walls down. But where the penthouse was luminous, a mix of comforting woody colors and cream cushions, the arrow nest was concrete, steel and glass. Workbenches and various tools occupied a third of the area. To her right, the targets and mats formed a training zone. The last part sent her geek heart into a fluttering dance. Oliver laughed at the awe on her face.

"Welcome to the Watchtower."

Chloe took in the high-definition screens and the motherboards, her brain reeling from the possibilities. She ran her hand over the touchscreen table. "That's—"

"Come on up. We need to talk."

His tone was serious enough that she lost her smile. Chloe nodded and followed him up the stairs. They climbed in silence, Oliver in the lead. She counted the steps, fourteen in total, to keep her mind on something else than the coming confrontation.

"You know where everything is."

Oliver waived his hand around. Unsure what he meant by that, she stared at his back as he passed under the archway leading to the sleeping quarters. Did he expect her to seat? What was he going to do to her? Lecture her? Wipe her laptop clean and send her on her merry way? Threaten her to keep her mouth shut?

Worry made her dizzy. Chloe gulped and decided to go into to the kitchen. She pulled out crackers, diced cheese and fruits, then she brought the plate back to the living room. Oliver was still to make an appearance.

"Huh… Chloe?"

She turned around to find him on the threshold of his bedroom. Shirtless. As if she didn't have enough to deal with. "I could use some help."

He spun on his heels without waiting. Chloe jumped after him when she saw the slash between his shoulder blades. "My God, Oliver!"

"One of our friends was determined to make me a porcupine."

"Not funny. Sit down."

She more or less pushed him down on his bed, where he'd left some first aid supplies. Kneeling behind him on the mattress, Chloe grabbed the iodine and a clean cotton ball. "Why didn't you knock them out with an arrow? Don't you have one of those, with a gas or something?"

"More fun that— OW!"

"Serve you right."

Chloe concentrated on her work rather than the play of muscles that vibrated under her palm she'd doctored the cuts on his back.

"So are you going to tell me where I screwed up?"

"I don't like that word. You just left clues, like bread crumbs."

"And you're good at picking up clues."

"I am extremely good at picking up clues."

He grinned at her over his shoulder. The dark chocolate stare warmed her from head to toe. Chloe sat back on her heels. "I don't think you need stitches, but I'll have to change the bandages tomorrow. And you better have dark shirts."

His gaze softened. "I'm sorry, you know."

Chloe met his stare. "For what?"

"I lied to you, and I scared you. I was planning to use your skills and—"

"Stop it." Chloe crawled off the mattress to stand before him. Within him seating and her standing, she could see a million emotions swirling in his eyes. Guilt dominated. She wanted it gone.

"I already told you that what happened in that alley was not your fault. What you do is important. It's right. And I'm proud you came to me for help."

The corner of his mouth curled up. "You realize you're my sidekick now, don't you? Officially?"

She slapped his hands when he tried to reach for her waist. "We'll see. I'm still mad at you. You lied to me. And next time I tell you to stall, you use an arrow, not pick up a fight."

"Bossy."

"Face it, Arrow, I'm the brains of this operation and you're…" She trailed off before she added fuel to the smirk that was threatening to make another appearance. She guessed her eyes riveted by the play of the bedside light on his chest weren't helping her case.

Chloe cleared her throat. "I've made snacks. They're in the living room. I'm going to bed."

She snatched her pumpkin on the pillow before she marched out of his bedroom. Olive's laugh followed her. Chloe prayed her face would cool by morning.