—6—

3 Weeks Later

Chloe woke abruptly to a phone ringing. It was a Saturday morning and she couldn't imagine who would be calling her house phone on a Saturday morning. If it were her cell, she might have guessed Lois or Dinah. Or maybe either Tess or Carol had finally gotten engaged last night, and was calling to tell her.

As it was, though, her cell was not the thing ringing, and she had to flail her arm a little more desperately than usual to find the receiver. After a moment she successfully snatched it from its hook and held it to her ear, her face half in the pillow.

"'lo?" she mumbled. What time was it?

"Have you seen it yet?"

She frowned. She knew that voice. Why did it upset her?

"Obviously not or you'd already be yelling at someone right now."

"Wh'isthis?" she slurred. "Whutimezit?"

"This is Oliver Queen; it is 7:30 in the morning. And I strongly suggest you go read your paper before you find out some other way."

She shook herself, trying to focus her thoughts. 7:30 on a Saturday? So that meant—she counted—four hours of sleep total. "Why are you calling me?" she groaned.

"I told you. Go get your morning paper. Now."

Grumbling to herself, she slid out of bed and dragged herself wearily across her apartment and opened up the front door where her morning paper was waiting, looking as innocent as any newspaper ever looked, carefully folded with the front headline on display. She stooped over and picked it up, then kicked her door shut and headed into the kitchen to flip on the coffee maker. While elixir brewed, she unfolded the paper and read.

"Luthor Announces Run for Presidency?" she questioned. "I mean, as disturbing as that is, we're just going to have to hope that Senator Ross beats him out in the end." But that didn't explain—

"That's not why I'm calling. Flip to the society pages. You can't miss it."

She did as instructed and her eyes widened in shock. "No," she said.

"Oh yes," he said grimly.

"But…no."

"I'm afraid so."

There, covering half the page, was a photograph of her and Oliver Queen, taken a week ago when they happened to be standing near one another at an event hosted by the Star City Shakespeare Theatre, Oliver in a tux, and Chloe wearing a yellow silk couture number. Above their photograph ran the headline:

GOLDEN COUPLE GETS ENGAGED

"This can't be happening.

"And yet it is."

"But how? Why would they—"

"Read the article."

Closing her gaping mouth, Chloe read.

GOLDEN COUPLE GETS ENGAGED
by Linda Lake

A few weeks ago, it seemed that there was trouble in paradise for Star City's favorite couple. After a strange evening out, in which Chloe Sullivan and Oliver Queen were spotted abandoning their newlywed friends Dinah and Arthur Curry at Ches Benoît's, but then later appeared at an infamous new nightclub, they were reported to seem at odds with one another. At the club outing, Chloe was spotted accepting a drink from a man at the bar while Oliver flirted heavily with other women. The couple still ended the night together, sharing a drink and a dance before they left, but it seemed that perhaps this perfect couple had somehow hit a breaking point. Suspicions appeared to be confirmed two weeks ago at a gala in Gotham hosted by mutual friend of the couple, Bruce Wayne. Oliver attended with the Russian ballet star Vera Dimitriv, and Chloe, to everyone's surprise, was on the arm of Gotham's White Knight, Harvey Dent. Perhaps it was an attempt to make one another jealous. We may never know, but if that is the case, it certainly worked, as this reporter has it from a reliable source that the couple are now engaged, finally admitting to the public that their relationship is real and stronger than ever.

At first, Chloe could only stammer. Then, "A 'reliable source'? What reliable source? This is pure fiction! This is—it's—I don't even—THERE AREN'T WORDS!"

"I know."

"How could they possibly come to the conclusion that we're engaged? It's preposterous. It's almost offensive."

"Yeah, I couldn't understand it either. So I went online to try to figure out where they would get the idea."

"And?"

"It may be partially my fault, but you've got some explaining to do, too."

"Enlighten me."

"They've got a shot of me leaving Tiffany's & Co. with a small blue box."

"Well what were you getting at Tiffany's?" Chloe demanded.

"A pair of earrings for Mia. It was a surprise for her first day working with you."

"Of course it was," Chloe groaned. "But it's not like they saw you propose or something. And anyway, it's only a pair of earrings. How could they not follow up on that?"

"Well the trouble is that when I went into the jewelry store and said I wanted something for a special woman, the jeweler misunderstood and brought me to the case of engagement rings first. He'd already pulled something out before I could explain that wasn't what I wanted."

"So…" Chloe cringed.

"They've got an actual photograph of me looking at a ring."

"How did a photographer get that shot?"

"It wasn't a photographer. Just a crappy cell-phone photo; I guess someone in the store must have recognized me and taken it. They probably wouldn't have even used it if it weren't for this story."

"Great. So how did they come to the conclusion that I was the lucky girl?" Chloe asked sourly.

"Well that's where it gets to be a real stretch. They've got a picture of you and I exiting the same hallway at that party in Gotham."

"Right…we ran into each other coming out of the bathrooms."

"Yeah, but here's where you can explain something to me: They have a photo of you arriving at the party with no necklace on. And then one from after our supposed bathroom-proposal where you're wearing a chain that disappears down your neckline."

Chloe frowned and then caught on. "Ugh," she groaned. "Unbelievable. I was going to wear a necklace that night, but it kept snagging on my wrap. So I took it off and put it in my purse on my way there so I didn't ruin the silk. I excused myself to the ladies' room to freshen up when I got there and that was when I put the necklace on. It must have slipped under my neckline without my noticing. So they think—"

"That you were hiding your new rock down your dress? Yep."

"But why would I do that?" Chloe asked, unable to keep up with this complete Fairy Tale that someone had fabricated.

"Well, speculation suggests that just like we were trying to keep our dating a secret, we wanted to keep the engagement a secret. But the general consensus is that you wanted to wait for the right time to announce it in private, rather than let people find out at the gala."

"And what about the fact that I left that event with Harvey?" she asked, her voice an octave higher as she raked her hand through her hair.

"Well, you read the article. They thought we had an argument at the Coup D'état, and that you were just trying to make me jealous. There's a whole web story about how you were angry that I wanted to keep our love a secret, and then just to prove a point, you went to the event with another date, leaving poor, lonely me with the Russian 'bitch' as she's being called—hardly fair, by the way. Vera's a lovely woman—"

"I'll bet she is," Chloe grumbled.

"—but then seeing you with Dent, I came to my senses and finally told you my real feelings and showed you the ring I had now been carrying around for weeks. But being the polite, classy woman that you are, you thought it only appropriate to leave with the man you came with."

"That is—"

"The most elaborate hoax ever? Yes, yes it is."

"I can't believe this."

"I know. I mean, there's this huge debate amongst all our twelve-year-old fan girls about whether or not I deserve you after going out with Vera. They think you should marry Harvey, who's obviously the worthier candidate."

"Oh and let me guess," Chloe said bitingly, "there's a whole army of girls who think I'm not good enough for you and obviously if I was willing to sink so low as to go out with another man to make you jealous, then you deserve someone more gracious."

"'Not such a whore' I believe was the phrase most commonly used, but yes, that's the gist of it," he joked darkly.

"This is just unbelievable. I—God, how have you had time to research all this so thoroughly? It's not even 8 A.M." she pointed out.

"I usually get up at 6:30 to start my workout routine," he said, explaining. "Fortunately for you I read the paper first this morning. I normally don't even see the society pages, but I dropped the whole paper by accident and there we were on page 6."

"I just can't get over this. Whatever happened to integrity in journalism?" she wanted to know, growing more furious because of the fact that her coffee maker seemed to be taking forever. "We're going to have to start making calls to clear this up immediately, before it can get any more out of hand."

To her surprise, there was a hesitation from Oliver's end. "If…you want," he said slowly.

"What do you mean 'If I want?' Of course I want. Don't you want? Why wouldn't we want?"

"I've just…been thinking."

"First for you, huh?" she deadpanned.

"Hey," he said, obviously serious about whatever he was going to say.

"Fine. What were you thinking about, oh wise one?" she said, snatching a mug as her coffee finally indicated that it was ready.

"Well, I'm guessing from what you said back at the whole mess with the Curries, that your friends and family haven't really believed you when you said we weren't dating?"

"Don't remind me," she said irritably. "They're going to be absolutely frantic when they see this." She poured the coffee and took a sip of it black. She sighed with mild relief, but there was no releasing the tension that had developed between her shoulders this morning.

"Well I've been having the same problem. And it's obvious that Dinah isn't anywhere near ready to give up on what she considers her genius plan to force us to be together."

"Make your point, Queen," Chloe said, her patience thin.

"I was just…thinking—"

"Yes, we've established that."

"I was thinking," he repeated, annoyed, "that we could go along with it."

Chloe spit out the coffee she was drinking. "HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?" she shouted, wiping her chin.

"Hear me out: I don't mean we should actually get married. I'm just saying we should go along with the story for a couple of months or so. We give everyone the satisfaction of thinking they're right about us—"

"—and then we split up and they leave us alone forever," Chloe finished, cottoning on.

"Now you're getting it. Think about it: they come out of this thinking that we gave it a great shot, and that we just weren't right for each other in the end."

"And with any luck, they lay off trying to set either of us up with anyone else for at least a year, and we get to get on with our lives."

"It makes sense, in a weird way."

"I can't tell if it's brilliant or if I just haven't had enough coffee yet."

"Come on, Sullivan. It would be the ultimate scam. Just think about it."

"But…I mean, think about all we'd have to do to make it look real," she reminded him, the plan already losing its seduction for her.

"It wouldn't be that tough. And it would just be for a couple of months. A small price for a lifetime of peace," he reminded.

Chloe bit her lip. A lifetime of peace… "But…I don't know, Queen. That's a lot of lying."

"The truth obviously didn't work," he scoffed, clearly looking at his own copy of the news article. "Take a couple of hours to think about it. Have your coffee—" She could hear him grinning. How did anyone have such an audible grin? "—and let me know what you think? I plan to ignore my phone in the meantime. Hal's probably going to call in about three hours to talk about the epic bachelor party he'll want to throw me." He was rolling his eyes. She could just tell.

"Deal," she said. "I need, like, five more cups of coffee before I trust myself to make this kind of decision." She hung up with Oliver and drained her coffee before setting the pot going again. She went to check her e-mail, and sure enough there was an e-mail from her mother:

from: Moira Sullivan
subject: ?

Chloe, you must call me immediately! How could you not tell me you were engaged? Obviously, our mother-daughter time is long overdue. I want to hear all about him. When can I meet him? You should invite him home for a weekend so your father and I can get to know him! I want to know everything. Does he have any food allergies? Do you think my lasagna would be okay? I wonder if—

Chloe couldn't read any more. She promptly closed out of the e-mail. She knew that Lois was sleeping now, but it wouldn't be long before her cousin was calling her and demanding to know why she wasn't the first to hear about this.

It would be a nightmare untangling this mess. She imagined introducing Oliver to her parents briefly, but she couldn't actually picture them in the same room. It would be too weird.

Oliver grabbed the bottle of orange juice in his fridge and uncapped it, then took a good long swig before turning back to the article laying on his coffee table.

It was just uncanny. Who was so desperate for a story that they managed to thread together such incredibly miniscule details and make them into such a huge ordeal? His phone started ringing, and after checking that it wasn't his 'betrothed,' he let it go to voice mail. Once the message was left, he checked it.

Oliver, honey, I want you to call me immediately. We need to talk about this Sullivan girl—

For a brief moment, he thought his mother had actually seen through the ridiculousness in the paper and realized he wasn't actually engaged. But then she continued.

—Since the press outed your engagement can I finally meet her? I don't know why you've been hiding her from us. She seems charming in the papers. And by the way, this is nonsense about you using a Tiffany's ring. I've been keeping your grandmother's ring for just this reason. Have her over this weekend. Oh! And if her parents live nearby, invite them, too. I want to meet the whole—

Oliver deleted the message. It was more than he could take. His grandmother's ring? On the finger of some woman he barely knew? It was more than he could handle. He took another long pull from the bottle of orange juice. Of all the women on the planet, he couldn't believe that his mother had gotten sucked into this. Surely she was far too intelligent to believe such blatant lies?

He decided to ignore his phone altogether after that, and went to the yoga mat he'd lain out before reading his paper. He sat down to meditate, but his brain was too full of all this nonsense to accomplish anything. So instead he began doing push-ups.

An hour later he was soaked in sweat but still worked up. How had his personal life gotten so utterly confused by the press? He'd been dealing with the media since he'd been born, and in all that time, never had they caused him so much trouble. Even when he was younger and going through a rebellious phase that involved a lot of partying and a lot of women, they hadn't managed to give him so much grief.

The very idea that anyone would believe he was engaged to Chloe Sullivan, of all people! It was almost insulting. After all, she was…was…

All right, so there was no real, specific reason he disliked her. But the fact remained that he did! How could people pair off two people who obviously had nothing but contempt for one another? Sure she was attractive, but he wasn't attracted to her. And she was obviously immune to him, a fact that fascinated him, but did not entice him. Besides all that, they were just so inherently different! She was uptight and boring and he was…him!

The whole thing was absurd.

Just as he was thinking that particular thought, someone buzzed his apartment. He walked over to open the door, hoping it wasn't Mia here to congratulate him. Instead, to his surprise, it was the woman herself, her mouth a thin line of irritation. She held up a piece of paper for him. Confused, he took it, and saw that it was an e-mail she'd printed out from someone named Lucy.

from: Lucy Lane
subject: congratulations

Hey, heard you finally landed a man. Thank God. Uncle Gabe and Dad were convinced you were going to die alone. Congratulations.

See you at Thanksgiving.

Lu

Oliver might have laughed, if not for the blonde standing in his doorway, seething with rage.

"I'm in," she said. "Now put some clothes on that don't smell like man-sweat so we can discuss the details.