I don't think I've ever written a story with so many lengthy author's notes. Lord! Just wanted to apologize for the late post-date and for the fact that this chapter ends a smidge abruptly. 20 got super lengthy on me and I haven't actually finished it yet, so I decided to cut it in half so I would have something to post for you guys. Thanks for your patience. As usual, you can follow my twitter to keep up with posts and news on the story.

Also, a minor announcement. For various personal reasons, I have decided that when this story is finished, I will no longer be posting on FFN. I have some issues with the way the site is being managed, and have decided to continue on other venues instead. Please, please feel free to shoot me a private message if you are interested in knowing more about my reasons for leaving or about where I'm going instead!

Thank you all! Without further ado: 20 Part I

ETA: Guys, PLEASE. If you are going to ask about where else you can find my writing, PLEASE make sure you at least log-in to write your review, so I don't have to track down your account to message you.

—20—

Days later and back in Star City, Chloe's heels clicked along the sidewalk outside the QI building. She and Oliver had planned to have dinner together when she got back, but she had had a voicemail waiting for her when she landed at the airport earlier that day, explaining that he had gotten bogged down with paperwork and wouldn't be back until late.

So she'd picked up a little takeout on her own and eaten it by herself, one eye constantly glancing at the clock as it got later and later. She'd felt bad for Oliver, having more than once been trapped at the office until all hours of the night, trying to get everything in perfect order for an upcoming issue of the magazine. So she'd decided to bring him a bit of dinner at the office, a little surprise to help the time pass. If he was anything like her, he'd need a break, but would never think to take one until someone else suggested it.

The doorman to the building had long since gone home, but Chloe had had the foresight to grab Oliver's spare ID badge from his desk drawer at home, so she let herself into the building and headed for the elevator.

She'd missed Oliver during her time in Metropolis. As great as it always was to see Lois, there was only so much wedding talk Chloe could take before her head felt like exploding.

At the top floor she got off and headed for Oliver's office, opening the door quietly and smiling when he didn't even look up, head bent over what looked like a very long report in very small print. "Hey, stranger," she said, and he actually jumped a little. Any concern she'd had about whether the interruption would be a welcome one or not vanished at the sight of the broad grin that spread across his face.

"Chloe," he said, coming around his desk to give her a hug. "Hey, you made it back okay. Good." He squeezed her tight and she felt her heart flip a little as she tiredly nuzzled into his chest. Oliver gave great hugs, something she had only very recently come to appreciate.

"Yep. I brought you a little leftover Thai food," she added, holding up a paper sack and handing it to him. "What are you working on?"

"Ugh, just this report about how the tablet's doing. There are still some bugs that need to be worked out, but overall it's been a success." He rubbed his face, heading back to the desk and setting down the takeout bag as he took his seat again. "I swear, I don't know how my dad ever found time to do all this crap and still be around at home."

"How goes the shifting of the mantle, speaking of?" Chloe asked, following him around to his side of the desk and leaning against it casually beside him.

"Just when I think I can't possibly handle any more responsibility, they give me more," he grimaced. "But it's going fine, really. I knew this was all coming eventually. I just never expected to have it happen all at once." Oliver eyed the hem of her charcoal gray shirt-dress, which rode up a little when she leaned back, resting just at the edge of his desk. "How was the rest of your visit?"

"Good. We found a bridesmaid dress and Lois had the first fitting for her dress. And I got to see Clark a couple of times, too, which was nice. Lois and I went to the game last night. That was fun."

"How'd the Sharks do, by the way? I didn't get to watch it."

"They won."

"Good." Oliver's eyes traveled down the length of Chloe's legs to a pair of black T-strap heels. He was having a difficult time not imagining those legs wrapped around his waist and those heels digging into his back. He had to be careful with Chloe. Knowing when to initiate something with her and when not to was a difficult game. On the phone the other night, he'd been dying to take things further, but he had realized that the idea hadn't even occurred to her. Considering he was trying to take baby steps with her, he wasn't exactly sure how sex in his office would go over. The thought, however, had his groin tightening lustfully. He dragged his eyes back up to her face, and found she hadn't noticed his lingering stare. Instead she was skimming a page of the report on his desk. "So were you able to relax much after we talked?" he asked.

A wistful little smile toyed with her lips and she chuckled. "A little. I mean…as much as I ever can relax. Maybe when all these weddings are over, I'll finally unscrew myself from the ceiling a little bit." Her eyes flickered to his to exchange a knowing look. He smiled a little bit, too. It wasn't in Chloe's nature to be relaxed. Not in her day to day life, anyway. But he knew one thing that always got her to unwind for sure. He tugged at his collar, feeling a little warm.

"So what are your plans for this week?" he asked, taking her hand and massaging it. Baby steps.

She closed her eyes and moaned a little, sending another wave of lust over him. "Mmm, the usual. Work. Meeting your mother to discuss venues. Tying up a few loose ends so I don't have to take any work with me when we head to Smallville for Thanksgiving."

He smirked, rubbing his hands warmly along her wrist and arms. "Liar."

"Hey," she protested faintly, leaning back a little more unconsciously, "I'm trying at least."

"Fair enough," he brought her hand up to his mouth and sucked on a finger. Her eyes popped open as her lips parted to suck in a short breath, and he half expected her to protest, but she only watched in fascination as he swiveled his tongue around her finger seductively. He released her hand and reached across her waist to grab her hip, pulling her over in front of him. Again no protest as he ran his hands over her thighs, fingertips dancing just at the edge of danger beneath her hemline. He saw her eyes darken and took it as encouragement to shove the dress up and part her legs. He could feel the energy coursing through her now, causing her muscles to tighten and tremor slightly as his thumbs stroked the insides of her thighs. He wasn't foolish enough to think it would occur to her to come here for this…but at least now he knew that she wasn't opposed to the idea.

If there was one thing he knew about Chloe Sullivan by now, it was that if she didn't want something, she would damn well say so.

Curiously, he brushed his thumb over her panties and watched her shudder in response, closing her eyes as she leaned more heavily on her palms, dropping her head back a little. He smirked. "I told you, Sullivan," he stroked her again, "I am a serious fan of these thigh-high stockings of yours." He ran both hands along the lace trim of her stockings and felt himself harden when she groaned in response. He rubbed his hand over her pussy again and her hips bucked slightly.

"Oliver," she sighed, somewhere between lust and chastisement for the way he was toying with her. He could actually hear the note of amusement somewhere in her voice and he couldn't help grinning. She would be anything but amused in a little while.

He continued to drag his fingers lightly across her slit through her panties, considering the various ways to make love to a woman like this. "All work and no play this week, hmm?" he asked her, rubbing circles on her clit with the pad of his thumb, watching her face grow flushed as he did so.

Chloe didn't answer, just sucked in a short little panting breath, her eyes shut in pleasure as she simultaneously tried to maintain her composure.

"We should do something about that. Maybe go out. I've got a friend who's been begging me to come to her club for weeks. They need the business," he said casually, pushing her panties to the side and gently toying with her entrance. "We should go. Blow off some steam."

His words were punctuated by Chloe's attempts to repress moans of pleasure and frustration. He knew she wanted him to go further, but while Chloe would absolutely speak up if she didn't want something, by the same token, it was like pulling teeth to get her to say what she really did want.

"What do you think?" he pressed, slipping a finger inside of her tight, wet channel.

Chloe's head might have rolled off her body the way her shoulders slumped and it dropped back. A breathy groan came out before she could reply with a tight, "Sounds good."

"I think so, too," Oliver smirked, easing another finger inside of her and beginning to thrust them in and out of her, picking a slow and torturous pace as he tried to stifle his own need to be inside of her as soon as possible.

Chloe wasn't holding up well. "Oh…God…Oliver…." Her voice was tight and had a whining note. Oliver smirked, picking up the pace just a little. Enough to keep her on edge.

He had to appreciate Chloe in this moment, head thrown back in pleasure, legs spread before him as his fingers fucked her. She was a remarkable woman, unlike anyone he'd ever met. When he'd first met her…he never would have imagined that they would end up here. It was absolutely surreal.

He needed more.

Pushing his chair back, he pulled his hand out of her—much to her displeasure—and shoved her legs together, dragging her panties ungracefully down her legs before parting them again, yanking her right up to the edge of the desk but leaving just enough space between them that she couldn't release the tension she so desperately needed to.

With one hand still gripping her thigh he cupped the side of her face, meeting her eyes gravely. He wanted her. He couldn't remember a want ever feeling quite like this, quite like her. He leaned down and kissed her mercilessly, making it almost difficult for her to return the energy, though she certainly did her best. As her body arched towards him he leaned her back on his desk, bracing himself over her. God, she was phenomenal.

She practically whimpered when he pulled back from the kiss, lingering on her bottom lip for a moment before releasing it, then planting another savoring kiss on her mouth before backing away.

He began to unbutton the top buttons of her shirt-dress, impatiently pushing the fabric aside and shoving down the cup of her bra so he could close his mouth around her breast. He was rewarded with another beautiful moan and the tension of her hands tangling in his hair.

Sensational.

His tongue laved at her breast luxuriously, while his cock was practically screaming for him to get on with it. He brushed his thumb over her other nipple before quickly moving on to suck on it, actually feeling her pleasure increase the longer he spent laving it.

And then he couldn't take it anymore. Hands fumbling he wrenched open his pants to free himself to take her. With their bodies pressed together, he kissed her and guided himself inside of her at the same time, swallowing every sound that escaped her lips. He knew she was in slight discomfort, but she recovered far more quickly than she had in the past. He set a hard, steady pace, forehead pressed against hers, eyes met.

…and he could see panic growing inside of hers.

Damn it.

It was too intimate. Too much for her. But it felt so damn good, just like this and if he could he would keep her in this moment forever.

But he couldn't. So he shifted, pushing himself up so that he could grab her thighs and pull her closer, yet creating a distance between them. The angle was deeper and he could barely keep his eyes open as he plunged inside of her repeatedly, Chloe's own voice gone as she gasped for breath, tossing her head to the side and clamping her eyes shut.

When a high pitched cry sounded from her lips, he knew she was close, and he worked his fingers over her clit as he continued to thrust into her, in a race to try to bring her to orgasm before he lost all control.

Her body shuddered and he felt her go limp beneath him, and with a few more thrusts he followed her, gasping and crying out himself with relief and pleasure and just thank God for this.

Chloe, for once, was the first to speak. A light, breathless chuckle, and "I should go away more often. Isn't that what they say?" she joked, evidently determined to keep the mood light but barely hiding a moan when he pulled out of her.

Oliver didn't blame her. He was getting foolish. He forced a grin. "What can I say? It's hard not to get addicted to sex, don't you think?" He winked at her, massaging her thighs in a nurturing way.

She rolled her eyes playfully, pushing herself up and resting back on her palms. Tousled hair and dress hanging open…she looked good enough to eat, and Oliver couldn't suppress the smirk of satisfaction that played across his lips. "How much work do you have left?" she asked curiously, noticing that she had skewed several papers across his desk.

It was his turn to roll his eyes, pushing the papers away from her hands. "No discussing business in bed."

"We're not in bed. We're on your desk," Chloe said with a wry smile. "Seems like the perfect place to discuss it."

"Well when you put it that way," Oliver smirked, leaning in to kiss her neck seductively, "it sounds so dirty."

Chloe's laugh was tight with lingering lust. "Probably because it is, God—Oliver—stop—" she pushed him back, but gently. He read quickly in her face that while she wasn't upset, she had already pushed her own boundaries enough for the moment by having sex in such an unusual place. He could respect that, but he wasn't in the mood to let her down from the desk just yet, so he continued rubbing his hands soothingly along her legs, which were conveniently still parted for him. "Be serious. How much work do you have left?"

Oliver sighed, and glanced at the scattered papers. "Oh, it's not too terrible. I'm trying to get on top of things so I can enjoy my holiday, too," he said, returning to their earlier mention of Thanksgiving.

"Liar," she teased, smirking.

He chuckled. "Hey, I won't bring any work with me if you promise not to bring any work with you," he challenged.

Chloe raised her eyebrow at him, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I bet you can't do it."

"I bet you can't."

"Oh really? What happens if I don't and you do?"

Oliver mulled it over. What did he want? What would it be absolutely worth it to have Chloe do? Something devious and delicious occurred to him and he gave her a wicked grin that, had she not already been terribly aroused, would have had her panting after him. "When I win, I get chocolate syrup."

Chloe stared at him, not understanding.

He smirked. "And you have to lick it off me."

Even if she didn't agree to it, it was completely worth the proposition just to see Chloe's entire body turn crimson. Her mouth fell open slightly. "Are you serious?" she half-gasped.

He lifted a cocky eyebrow. "Scared you'll lose, Sullivan?"

She promptly closed her mouth, glaring at him in spite of her shock. "Fine," she said. "But if—when—I win…" she paused, lips curling devilishly, "then I get whipped cream."

For a moment, all Oliver could think about was licking a soft mound of sweet whipped cream off of Chloe's most intimate places and he could feel himself getting aroused again. He literally could not lose this bet. "Deal," he said immediately.

Chloe extended her hand, expecting him to shake it, but apparently Oliver had a better way to seal the deal in mind, grabbing her wrist and yanking her forward so he could kiss her, his tongue sliding into her mouth and giving her an idea of exactly how sinful it would be to have him eating whipped cream off of her body. She groaned.

"Oliver," she mumbled into his mouth. "Don't…don't you need to…unh…finish this?" she asked, forcing him to work on her neck again because her lips were moving too much.

"I need to finish something else first," he said and she glanced down to his growing erection.

She moaned longingly. "Ohhh…fuck."

Oliver smirked. "Yes, exactly," he grinned, spinning her around and bending her over the desk.

Stepping out of the car, Chloe had to pause and appreciate that the last time she'd done this road trip with Oliver, she had come out of it feeling decidedly disgruntled. Today, she had barely noticed the passing of time, laughing with Oliver about family and friends and work. And unlike last time, when he had groaned about the number of times she had him go through a drive through so she could get more coffee, this time he had been the one to make a scheduled stop at the exact same places without her asking.

Who says you can't train them? she laughed to herself, rubbing her hands together and watching her breath fog as he lifted one of her suitcases out of the trunk. She emptied the last dregs of her coffee—fortifying herself—before leaning into the car to fish out her purse.

"Oh, they're here!" her mother's voice came ringing out and Chloe winced. She could do this. It would be fine. After all, this year her family holiday would be much less stressful because she had a fiancé. She was finally a success in her parents' eyes. She straightened up.

"Hi, Mom," Chloe greeted, opening her arms and allowing her mother to wrap her in a warm hug. Chloe took the embrace for all it was worth. Even though she tended to avoid coming home, she still missed her parents most of the time. And with everything she had been going through lately, even Chloe had to admit that right now she really just needed her mom. She sighed, tucking her mother's shoulder under her chin for a second. "Where's Dad?" she asked, finally pulling back.

"Oh, he's coming. He was just putting the sheets on your bed while I finished getting the house ready. Now where's my future son-in-law?" Moira demanded, looking past her daughter. "Oh, there you are!" she said, absolutely delighted when Oliver appeared from behind the car, second suitcase in tow.

"Hi, Mrs. Sullivan," Oliver said pleasantly, and she immediately came to cup his face.

"Oh, call me Mom, honey. Chloe," she said over her shoulder, "he's even more handsome than I remembered. I don't know where you found him."

"Neither do I," Chloe muttered under her breath. And I never could get rid of him, she laughed to herself as her mother hugged a somewhat uncomfortable-looking Oliver.

"Well come in, you two, come in," Moira bustled around them. "Gabe will come help you with the luggage, Oliver, sweetheart. Never mind that now. You both must be starving. I was so surprised you decided to drive all that way. I thought Chloe said you were considering flying a couple of weeks ago," she monologued as she ushered them inside, Oliver just barely grabbing a couple of suitcases to bring inside the beautiful little yellow suburban house. He couldn't believe there was an actual white picket fence. This was it? This was where Chloe Sullivan grew up and became the Ice Queen? This deserved some investigation.

"We talked about taking Oliver's jet," Chloe was explaining tiredly to her mother, "but we decided we didn't want his pilot having to work the week of the holiday. And neither of us felt like flying commercial and having people in our face getting on and off the plane." Chloe sighed, glancing at Oliver.

"Oh that's so sweet. My goodness, a private jet, that's just…wow…well, anyway I laid out some sandwiches in the kitchen and made iced-tea, so there's a big pitcher of it in the fridge. But there's also some hot apple cider if either of you is chilled. It will only take a minute to heat up. I didn't know if you two had had a chance to stop for supper on the way, so I was worried you might be a little hungry…" Moira continued rambling her way straight to the fridge.

Chloe and Oliver's mouths fell open slightly. It was evident that Moira had been preparing for their arrival for sometime. 'Some sandwiches' actually meant an entire platter of sandwiches that could feed ten people. Or Bart and Clark. There was a loaf of fresh-made pumpkin bread that had Martha Kent's name on it, and a bowl of fruit salad and a veggie platter with ranch dressing in the center.

"Mom, are we…expecting more people?" Chloe managed to ask, staring at all the food.

"Hmm?" Moira asked, reappearing from the fridge with the pitcher of iced-tea in her hands. "No, why?"

"Oh. I…no I just…this is a lot of food," she said meekly, while Oliver politely picked up a paper plate and started taking some carrot sticks from the veggie platter.

Moira surveyed the spread and turned a little pink. "Oh…I guess…you're right." She shrugged. "I guess I just got a little carried away, you know? It's been such a long time since I had you at home, and I got excited." She shot a furtive glance in Oliver's oblivious direction, and Chloe realized that Moira had been anxiously busying herself trying to make Oliver feel as welcome as possible.

"Well it looks delicious," Chloe said kindly, patting her mother on the arm and grabbing one of the larger sandwiches for her plate. It was a good thing she and Oliver had skipped stopping for a bite to eat in favor of arriving half an hour earlier. "Don't you think so, Ollie?" she prompted Oliver.

Oliver glanced up, unused to Chloe calling him by his nickname. Chloe was raising her eyebrows meaningfully at him, and he caught on, helping himself to a large sandwich as well. "It looks amazing Mrs—erm, Mom. Thanks for putting all this together. I was starving."

Moira looked so delighted and buttered up that she could barely speak, so she left the room to find her husband.

Oliver gave Chloe a teasing look and Chloe blushed. "She's excited. I never bring people home."

"It's cute. I like your house."

"It's not my house. It's their house."

"But you grew up here, right? Are we sleeping in your room?" He wiggled his eyebrows and she laughed.

"Don't get excited. My parents are pretty wholesome. They're probably expecting you to sleep on the couch, Ollie."

"I still wanna see your room. Is it the same as it was when you were in high school? Are there little trophies and tiaras lying around?"

Chloe turned tomato-red as the image of a glittering prom-queen tiara that had been shoved into the back of her closet flashed to the front of her mind. "Of course not," she said, quickly stuffing a bite of ham and swiss on marble rye into her mouth and walking away.

"Is that my baby girl?" her father's voice called from the stairs, thundering down the steps to Chloe's embarrassment. He wrapped her in a tight bear-hug, squeezing the oxygen out of her lungs and leaving her carefully done hair considerably ruffled.

"Hi, Dad," Chloe squeaked out, much to Oliver's amusement.

"And here's the man of the hour!" Gabe said, releasing his daughter to gasp for air and instead, to Chloe's absolute horror, embracing Oliver in an identical bear-hug. Although in this case the idea of Gabe Sullivan trying to squeeze the air out of Oliver's lungs was considerably laughable, as he was about a foot taller than her father, and considerably more fit.

Oliver hugged him back awkwardly and Chloe waited for the ground to swallow her. Could this get any more embarrassing?

"So, I have some news," Moira announced as she came into the kitchen and Gabe finally turned his attention to the food.

"I'm I allowed to eat now that the kids are here?" he asked, interrupting his wife, who rolled her eyes.

"Yes, dear, of course," she said.

"Well, excuse me," he replied, eagerly grabbing a sandwich for himself and putting it on the plate already in his hand. "But I got smacked with a dishtowel earlier for taking a tomato, so I'm just making sure."

Chloe was going to die. Why did her parents have to be so…parental?

"Anyway," Moira continued, "I was going to say that we're mixing things up a bit this year."

Chloe's eyebrows went up.

"Now, I know you're used to having Thanksgiving at our place with the Lanes," Chloe's mother looked at her, "but we felt that with you and Lois both getting engaged, and with Lucy bringing home a boy this year, that we should really try to get everybody together, so we're going to have dinner all together on Friday at the Kents' home. So we're just going to have a small dinner."

"Oh," Chloe said, surprised by this development. "Um…is there…is there room for all of us?" Chloe asked tentatively, thinking of the Kent's modestly-sized dining room.

"Jonathan and I were talking about setting up a big table in the barn. I'm sure Clark and this strapping young man will be able to give us a hand with that," he said, clapping Oliver on the back jovially.

"No problem, Oliver said, reaching for another half of a sandwich while Chloe recounted the many, many reasons why she had left home. Her father using phrases like 'strapping young man' was definitely in the top ten.

"Well you two eat up," Moira said, "and Gabe you'll help them bring their luggage up once we're all finished," she instructed. "I'd recommend getting some sleep since it's already past 9 and you two have had a long day."

"The Kents live on a farm?" Oliver whispered, delighted.

Chloe just rolled her eyes.

"Your hometown is freaking adorable."

This was going to be a long visit.

"Chloe's Prom Queen tiara?" Chloe father's voice reached her ears on the stairs, and the heavy tote bag in her hands dropped, landing on her foot.

"OW!" she yelled, grabbing her toe and cringing.

"—oh her mother found it years ago in the back of her closet. We were surprised it didn't break—"

"No!" she gasped, foot still throbbing. She scrambled to shove the bag out of the way, only succeeding in tripping.

"—we put it in a box with some of her other things when we cleaned out the room."

"NO!"

"Oh, here it is. There now, oh, look at this, her first toy computer. She was so attached to this thing. Took it everywhere. Of course her mother saved the tiara, but Chloe hated that thing. Can you believe it? Her Nancy Drew collection, of course. And…oh you'll love this."

"NO!"

Chloe came bursting into her bedroom, too late to stop her father from handing Oliver a large, taped together manilla folder.

"Dad, what are you doing?" she demanded.

Obviously not sensing his daughter's horror, Gabe answered calmly, "Just showing him your old 'Wall of Weird' collection. Chloe was always fascinated by those fake tabloid stories about alien abductions and cloned sheep. Couldn't get enough of the stuff when she was twelve. Used to keep a bulletin board over her desk there with all of the clippings. She was absolutely convinced that aliens were out there. 'course, her tastes developed as she got older. The Wall expanded to the high school newspaper office, but then it was so much alien invasions as it was undercover sleuthing. Woodward and Bernstein kind of stuff. She saved had a copy of every article from Perry White and…who was that woman you worshipped so much Chlo-bear?" her father asked, looking up from the articles, which Oliver was flipping through with a fascinated expression.

"Nelly Bly," Chloe sighed, defeat evident in her voice. "Her name, Dad, was Nelly Bly."

Noticing her tone, Oliver looked up, eyebrow raised. Realizing she was uncomfortable, he gently handed the file back to Gabe and cleared his throat. "Was there anything else in the trunk?"

"No, just that tote. I left it on the stairs because it was too heavy," she said through gritted teeth, walking over to take the folder from her dad and gently setting it on her desk. She then took the box and shoved it in her closet, closing the door firmly behind her. "Thanks, Dad," she said tightly.

He shifted awkwardly. "Everything okay, princess?"

She took a deep breath. "Yes, sorry, Dad. Thanks for helping with the suitcases. But I think Mom's right. Oliver and I should turn in, don't you think? Like Mom said, we had a long day."

His expression eased, and just as Oliver came into the room with Chloe's tote, he kissed his little girl on the forehead and, with a fleeting "Goodnight," in Oliver's direction, left the room.

"You okay?" Oliver asked.

Chloe crossed her arms. "I'm fine. Sorry, I just…I'm really sensitive about that," she gestured irritably at the stack of newspaper clippings.

Oliver lifted a shoulder. "Don't be. It's cute."

It was obviously the wrong thing to say. Chloe shot him a look of daggers.

"Sorry!"

She dragged a hand over her face while Oliver set the bag down. "No, I'm sorry. It's just…that stuff is really personal to me."

Oliver cocked his head to the side. "Too personal for the guy who's seen you naked?" he whispered lightly so no one would hear in the hallway. Chloe would have been annoyed if it weren't for the teasing lilt in his voice. It was his way of telling her she could talk about it if she wanted to.

Chloe sat down on her bed, which still had the bright orange bedspread of yester-year on it. "It just always bugged me how my parents never took me seriously about journalism growing up. They just thought it was cute. And it was hard being the girl who believed in aliens, you know? When I was older, I knew the articles I'd found were fakes, but I was always hoping to find something real. I needed it to be real." She looked up at him, big green eyes pleading with him to not make fun of her for this.

"Why?"

"Because…" she frowned, as though she had never had to answer that question. "Because I needed there to be something bigger and more important than Earth and humans. There had to be something more than Smallville to the world. Does that make any sense?"

Oliver shoved his hands in his pockets, his shoulders a little tense. "Well, yeah. I mean, I always felt that way as a kid. It was hard thinking that all I was meant for was to take over my dad's business. Not that I'm complaining. I'm lucky. And I know that if I had really ever been truly unhappy, my dad wouldn't have forced me to come work for him. But when I was a kid it felt so…unimportant. I was going to run some big, ambiguous company. Big deal. There were bigger, badder things in the world."

Chloe tried to imagine a tiny Oliver but struggled with the concept. "What did you want to be when you grew up?"

He smirked. "You'll never let me live it down."

"Now I have to know," she grinned.

"Okay, you can never tell anyone this: I wanted to be a superhero."

"What?" Chloe laughed, clapping a hand to her mouth to contain herself.

"I'm serious," he said, chuckling. "I wanted to be a superhero and rescue people. I was going to rob the rich and give to the poor like a modern robin hood or something. That was actually my favorite book, by the way. I take it yours was Nancy Drew?"

Chloe grinned and shook her head. She got off the bed and crouched down on the floor. "My parents still don't know about this," she warned him conspiratorially before prying up a floor board and pulling out a shoebox. "This was where I hid the really important stuff, including—" she opened the box and pulled out a large book, "—my first edition collection of Sherlock Holmes stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle."

Oliver smiled, coming over to have a look at the book and the box. "Of course. What else is in there?"

Chloe shrugged. "A letter signed by Perry White because I wrote him fan mail when I was 8. He has no idea that was me by the way. I used a pseudonym, and he can never know." She gave Oliver a warning look and he chuckled. She rummaged around the box, uncovering movie tickets and an old bracelet. She smiled when she found a concert ticket. "Clark took me to see Remy Zero in Metropolis that year. They were my favorite band for a hot five minutes before they broke up. Best birthday gift ever. Oh…" she grinned. "And here's the corsage I wore when he took me to homecoming."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "He was your homecoming date?"

Chloe look unperturbed. "We were best friends and I had a desperate crush on him at the time. It was a good dance. Too bad the whole thing got canceled when a tornado hit. I still remember huddling next to him and Lana and Pete in the gym." She frowned. "It was actually kind of fun, but…I was painfully aware of how in love with Lana Clark was at the time, even though she was there with her Quarterback boyfriend."

"Whatever happened to the quarterback boyfriend?" Oliver mused.

She got a sad look on her face. "Enlisted. Died in Afghanistan a year later. Good guy, in the end. He had a lot of maturing to do back in the day, but…he got there."

"And the other friend? Pete?"

"State Senator at the moment. I think he has some higher political ambitions."

"Hmm. What's this?"

"Oh!" Chloe's face fell. "That's…it's nothing, I mean it's just—" she sighed. "That's a cocktail napkin that I gave Jimmy my number on the first summer I met him. He hung onto it and gave it back to me years later. I didn't realize I'd put that in here." She closed the lid on the box, and Oliver recognized that she was done sharing.

"Listen, I'm gonna hop in the shower if you wanna join me," he wiggled his eyebrows, teasing her, but Chloe pushed him away, laughing.

"Oh my God, not in my parents' house. Ewww!"

He laughed. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Fine, but remember," he said, standing up and heading for her bathroom. "No work. Even when I'm not looking."

Chloe just smiled, crossing her fingers behind her back. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Her phone had gone off about thirty times on the drive that day, with messages from Edward, Vivian, Louise, and countless others, all wanting her opinion on a variety of issues.

Friday morning began bright and early for Oliver and the Sullivans. Dressed and pressed, Chloe and Oliver dutifully piled into the back of Gabe and Moira's station wagon, Chloe muttering curses until Oliver pushed a thermos of coffee into her hands.

"Marry me?" she joked pathetically, and Oliver chuckled uneasily while Moira giggled up front, finding the statement adorable.

It was a short drive to the Kent's farm, and Oliver found himself further and further distracted by how utterly picturesque this small town was. It was like something out of a story book. And it was hard to imagine intrepid little Chloe, running around with her belief in Aliens and the bizarre in a sleepy little town where no one else could possibly have shared her curiosity. It was sad to think of how protective Chloe was of her passions around her parents. How much had she felt the need to hide from them over the years because they thought of her enthusiasm as simply 'cute?'

At least, Oliver thought, when they pulled into the Kent farm and Chloe embraced Clark like a brother, she had had a good friend. But her own confession of a so-called 'pathetic crush' while he was in love with Lana-the-girl-next-door must have tainted that relationship for a long time. Unrequited love could be crushing.

He swallowed uncomfortably as he looked at Chloe, instead allowing Gabe and Moira to introduce him to Jonathan and Martha Kent, possibly the friendliest couple he had ever met.

"Nice to meet you, Oliver. We've been dying to meet you," Martha said happily, kissing him on the cheek.

"All I can say is it's about time someone scooped up our little Chloe," Jonathan said, shaking his hand firmly, and Oliver felt the callouses of a hard worker. "You're a lucky man."

Oliver coughed. "Don't I know it," he said, winking at Chloe, who was listening in with a comedic expression. She was enjoying this. Yuck it up, Chloe, Oliver thought. You still have to spend Christmas with my family.

"Well listen," Jonathan said. "Oliver, if you and Gabe want to give Clark and me a hand in the barn, we're just getting the table and benches set up. The Lanes should be over from their hotel any minute now."

"I wouldn't count on it, Dad," Clark shook his head. "Getting Lois out of bed first thing in the morning is one thing, but Lois and Lucy?Good luck."

Oliver snickered and Chloe elbowed him in the ribs.

"Come on, Chloe, I need a hand peeling sweet potatoes. You know how these boys eat," Martha said, linking arms with Chloe and dragging her toward the house.

Dragging his eyes from her, Oliver turned instead to Clark to congratulate him on the Sharks' big win the day before, which of course he and the Sullivan's had watched from the edges of their seats. Clark had played a good game, and though his team had struggled through the first half, they had turned it around after half time for a hair-raising last half, scraping a win by 2 points.

In the kitchen, Chloe was set to work peeling sweet potatoes—a relief, given that she wasn't much use at cooking, anyway, while her mother started helping Martha prep the turkey for roasting. Moira had never been much of a cook, either, but under Martha Kent's instructions, everything always turned out right. She was magical that way.

When the Lanes finally did arrive, it was a chaotic mess involving a loudly bickering Lucy and Lois, an irritated General, and a very nervous-looking boyfriend.

"Hey, guys!" Chloe grinned when her cousins entered the kitchen, and Lois rushed over to hug her tightly.

"Missed you!" she whispered, while General Lane apologized to Martha for their tardiness.

"Sorry, Mrs. Kent. The girls took some extra time this morning. You know I believe in punctuality," he threw his daughters a sidelong glance that spoke his displeasure loud and clear. "But we're here now, what can we do to help?"

"Well, you can go check on the men in the barn," Martha said pleasantly. "I'm sure they're set up out there by now, so tell Jonathan you should all go ahead and set the table for me."

"Certainly," the General said curtly, before turning to his niece.

"Chloe," he smiled gruffly, kissing her on top of the head. "Good to see you, Ace."

Chloe smiled and hugged her Uncle in spite of how clearly un-emotional he was attempting to be. That was the trouble with General Lane. He hadn't seen her in almost 2 years, and he was still trying to act like he didn't get emotional. He looked surprised when she hugged him, but then gave in and gave her a rough squeeze in return.

"Lucy," he ordered, "introduce your guest."

"Yes, sir," Lucy said, and there was no mistaking the certain tone of sarcasm in her voice, although it was quite possible her own father missed it. "Everyone, this is Wes, my boyfriend. Wes, this is my cousin, Chloe. She's the one who's engaged to the billionaire. This is Aunt Moira, who has the misfortune of being related to us. And that's Martha Kent. She lives here."

Moira and Chloe were too busy wondering whether they should feel offended by their share in the introductions, so Martha swept in and embraced Wes kindly, smoothing over the moment. "Welcome, Wes," she smiled. "It's good to have you. Any food allergies I should know about?"

Wes shook his head. "No, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."

"Stop talking like you're at basic training, Wes," Lucy rolled her eyes. "Let's go see what the boys are up to. I don't do kitchens."

Lois and Chloe watched Lucy escort her boyfriend away with matching arched eyebrows.

"So that's happening," Lois deadpanned.

"I see. Is he nice?"

"Yeah, he's actually an ex. We had a fling for five minutes years ago, but he was a really good guy. He might actually be a good influence on Lucy."

"Lucy's dating one of your exes?" Chloe turned to her cousin, surprised.

Lois shrugged. "Ancient history. Doesn't bother me and obviously doesn't bother them. So whatever."

"Huh. Well, catch me up on everything at the Planet," Chloe instructed, passing Lois a peeler, so she could get to work on the carrots.