Chloe walked out of the block of apartments and climbed into her little VW Golf before starting the engine. Settle for a Draw by the Arctic Monkeys broke out of her stereo as she pulled out of her space and set off. Technically she was leaving two hours early for her lunch interview with Oliver Queen, but she wanted to get her hair sample to the lab.

Some people might say that she was intruding by finding out the Emerald Archer's identity without his permission but Chloe had learned the hard way that not knowing a hero's identity was dangerous. I have plenty of experience from Clark on that front... Besides, as she had proved by filling in as Clark's sidekick since they were both in high school, she could help out with his nightly excursions. She was doing him a favour, indirectly.

Twenty minutes later the blonde returned to her car having deposited the hair sample at the lab. Chloe had had to resort to heavily flirting with an intern who also moonlighted as her contact in order to get it through twice as fast. Lois is so much better than me at that kind of stuff. I swear that girl has no shame. Chloe had gone through all the standard techniques, including twirling her hair, laughing at his poor attempt of humour and uncharacteristically batting her eyelashes at him but the stick-thin intern had failed to take the bait. In the end, she had to humiliate herself a little by letting her cleavage do the talking before he told her he could get it to her two days later. Satisfied that she had achieved her goal and slightly boosted by the fact that her petite frame could gain herself such favours, Chloe got back into her car with her head held a little higher.

The traffic was terrible as she made her way to the upper side of Metropolis and Chloe took the time to organise her thoughts. While she prided herself on knowing most of the current affairs that were public knowledge to the most intimate detail (and then some more bits of information that she really shouldn't know), she didn't know much about the man that was Oliver Queen. He was the prince of the society pages, something that Chloe always ignored when she perused a newspaper, and his reputation preceded him. From what she had learnt in her brief research that she had done before setting off, the inheritor of Queen Industries seemed to live by the policy of 'live fast, die young.' He regularly partied harder in one night than most would be able to in a lifetime and had many stories to show for it. While in high school, he had managed to uphold a relationship with eight different cheerleaders simultaneously for over three months without any of them finding out until graduation. Upon being presented with his diploma, Oliver was met with series of angry Pom Pom bearing girls and the picture of his robes being doused in alcohol from several different drinks had graced the papers the next morning. His relationship with the press had hardly improved from there. After being caught pants down with an intern at the Star City Gazette Christmas Party, Oliver had simply bought the paper, with a check book recovered from his aforementioned discarded trousers, to prevent the pictures taken from being printed. The story that both simultaneously disgusted and impressed Chloe (to her own amusement) happened at the Warrior Angel premiere in London. Star City's most eligible bachelor arrived acting chaperone to the leading lady in the film but by the time the credits had started rolling, he was found birthday suited up with every female cast member excluding the one he had arrived with. He was literally living the life of Barney Stinson and suddenly Chloe could see the reason why the press followed his every move to document everything he did. Shamefully, the blonde couldn't deny that fact that she may have enjoyed reading into the background of his various conquests.

On the other hand, everyone seemed to forget the amount of good that Oliver Queen did for the world, especially those less fortunate than himself. Several subtle donations a month to different charities around the world were made by Queen Industries without recognition by the press. Not to mention the fact that the man himself was the face of many of those charities and had partaken in lots of activities such as sleeping homeless for a week and base jumping the Niagara Falls for sponsorship money. It seemed as though Oliver upheld the same belief as his parents had before him: to use their wealth to benefit others and bring good to good people. He had certainly adopted that policy when it came to running Queen Industries. Since he had taken the reigns of one of Americas largest investment businesses, the numbers had been slowly climbing and were approaching the highest that had ever been recorded in its history, even in a recession. And unlike LuthorCorp, another company Chloe was very familiar with, Queen Industries did not exploit its employees for every ounce of profit. Instead it offered some of the best benefits that any company could and had a clean record of job losses so far in the three years that Oliver had been running the company. It was inspiring, if Chloe was honest. And she planned to focus far more on that side of the elusive Oliver Queen than the scandals and playboy history. I'll leave that to Mandy Whyglehorn, the Informer's largest gossip queen and shit stirrer...

Finally, half an hour later than she had originally thought she was going to arrive, Chloe pulled up outside Queen Towers. The sixty storey building towered over the blonde and remained regal while not being extravagant. While she wasn't late, the traffic meant that she wasn't able to get a last coffee before going to the interview and she didn't have time to do a last minute check on her hair and makeup. Instead, she was welcomed through security and reception before being shuffled into a lift. Thirty seconds and sixty floors later, she had arrived. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes to steady herself as the doors opened and Chloe stepped out into the top office which housed the man who she was set to interview. The scent of coffee swirled underneath her nose and the noise of the bustling work-place cluttered her ears. Amid of all the chaos, no-one saw the petite blonde and carried on regardless. Brilliant, this is perfect for the fly on the wall- inside scoop.

Chloe melted into the background and tried to sneak carefully around the workers towards the door to Oliver Queen's office. Chloe weaved through desk upon desk until she was halted by someone slamming a heavy folder across her torso. Cursing herself for being caught, she turned to apologise before she was cut off by the fat woman that had handed her the information and told to take it into "Mister Queen's" office without even a sideways glance. Turns out the luck is in my favour. Now lacking the fear of being stopped, Chloe straightened out her jacket and strode forward, clutching onto the folder, and pushed her way through the large glass door without knocking.

The first thing that struck Chloe about the office was how informal it was. She had been imagining a stuffy space with maybe some oak paneling and some bland artwork on the walls. Instead she found herself in a bright room, awash with sunlight coming through the single piece of glass that stretched across the whole 10 foot wall. The desk, which was light and metallic, didn't face towards the door but was in fact situated next to it, facing the window. There was a large plasma T.V. and a green sofa to match that Chloe could see had a little mini-fridge attached to the far side. The walls were decorated with wacky and quirky things, ranging from pop-art to swords and a shield. It seemed more like a bachelor's pad than a place where one of the most powerful investment companies was run. The only surprising thing about the space was the lack of the bachelor himself.

Not that Chloe minded. She made a beeline for the desk and took out her pocket camera. She quickly flicked through the first document that she found lying open, obviously the last thing that he had read. She didn't bother reading anything, instead taking close up images of every page to trawl through later. After about five minutes she was done and she was just about to move onto the next file when she heard the sound of a male voice coming from the internal door of the office. The intrepid reporter scrambled to shut the file, snatched up her own file to keep up the pretence that she had just arrived and turned to face the man opening the door.

Oliver Queen emerged from the door with his arms thrown wide and singing at the top of his voice. "I was happy in hazes of a drunken hour, but heaven knows I'm miserable now," the man belted out, pitch perfect, with his eyes closed.

"I'm not sure I agree with that diagnosis," smirked Chloe, holding out her folder having recovered from her rushed panic before. Woah, Lois wasn't kidding when she said he was hot...

"You'll have to excuse me, Doc. I wasn't expecting such," he paused and grinned, "charming company." Please don't recognise me. Please don't recognise me.

"Those lines aren't going to work on me Queen, I'm not one of your 'girls,'" Chloe retorted, making speech marks with her fingers. "And don't think this is going to make your interview easier."

"Oh course, you're Chloe Sullivan. You're interviewing me, I remember now, course." Oliver ran his hand through his hair and laughed, opening the door and signalling the blonde go before him.

"I should be offended Mr Queen," Chloe lightly accused, slightly taken aback by the casualness that oozed out of the man. This is certainly unexpected. Very unlike all the other interviews I've ever done.

"So I thought doing the interview in an office would be dull and my answers would also be of the same quality," Oliver explained, pushing the button for the lift having already crossed the busy floor.

Chloe nearly jumped out of her skin as the woman who had handed her the folder five minutes earlier yelled so loud she was at risk of bursting her lungs at Chloe for 'flirting with Mr Queen instead of delivering the file she ahead given her.' Before the blonde could even start to defend herself, Oliver stepped across her somewhat protectively and shot her down: "Miss Sullivan is from the Daily Planet and that he hoped that file wasn't important enough for her to lose her job." With that they stepped into the waiting elevator and let the doors shut.

"I hope you weren't being serious about firing that woman," Chloe said meekly, afraid she had just caused someone to lose their source of income.

"Only if you admit to the charges of flirting that she accused you of," Oliver winked, looking down at his companion.

"You wish Mr Queen," Chloe retorted, willing the blush arising to her cheeks to go away. "You should be worried about how easily I got in your office."

"I'm just sorry I startled you, I have a tendency to sing loudly along to The Smiths inappropriately."

"To who?" Chloe asked, confused.

"The Smiths. They're a British band from way back in the '80s. I have quite the bizarre music taste," he admitted, walking out of the lift doors onto the ground floor, nodding to the doorman as they left the building before opening a door to a waiting car for Chloe. "They're quite depressing and uplifting at the same time. I used to release my anger through their music when I was younger but now I see the beauty in the lyrics instead." Leaning forward, he told the driver where they were going before looking back at the reporter. "Sorry that was probably too much information, I don't normally spill that kind of thing to anyone really."

Chloe, who was sat slightly tense before relaxed and smiled. "Don't worry about it. I'm exactly the same with David Bowie, particularly the album The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars. I listen to it all the time. Music is my escape from the world."

"Glad to know I'm not the only one, you'll have to teach me about that band, Professor," Oliver replied, settling into his seat. "I hope you're not going to take that to print. Might tarnish the image people seemed to have built for me."

"I assure you it won't. I think I'm starting to see the man underneath the pretence..."

xxXxx

The pair sat in a little Italian bistro on the outskirts of the upper side of Metropolis where it blended with the middle class areas. It was not at all where Chloe had expected Oliver to take her, expecting a more upscale and expensive place so the he could show off his seemingly limitless assets. However, he had insisted that this was the best place to get Italian food and it was private so they didn't get harassed by the press nor society girls. Because of this they ended up in a secluded corner of the restaurant which was slightly darkened by the size of the place and the low ceiling. They had already ordered their food and had munched through some starters.

Chloe was having a great time. Lunch with Oliver Queen hadn't felt like any other interview she had ever done. So far he hadn't avoided any questions nor given her the straight faced, stiff upper-lipped responses that she gained from many companies that she had pushed in the past. From a journalistic point of view, he was a perfect interviewee. Not that it meant that he wasn't fantastic in certain other ways... Oliver had been the epitome of a gentleman, guiding her from the car to her seat and encouraging her to ask her questions. At the same time however, he seemed to want to get to know her as well. His attention never wavered from the woman sat in front of him, even when they were served by a waitress who flirted with the man endlessly and shamelessly- which Chloe noted including undoing two of her top buttons to expose the maximum cleavage possible. Chloe was flattered by the attention, not that she would ever admit to it. After being shunned by most of the men in her life, it was nice for someone to really notice her. On the other hand, she hadn't managed to catch him learing at her, removing the concept of playboy fairly quickly. She was impressed by how honest he seemed and by how he was charmingly open with his life, despite being their first meeting. It was made all that much easier when she took into account of his incredible looks. His jaw was fine cut and his eyes were playful and innocent in nature which came with their brown colour. His face was fair, something that seemed to be common in the men Chloe was attracted to and his cheeks were graced with afternoon shadow. His skintone looked inviting and his grin was scandelous and fun. Very professional Chloe...

Oliver couldn't help but struggle to reign in himself and keep up the idea that this was only an interview. The woman that sat across him was the most unbelievable person he had ever met. She looked straight through the facade that was his playboy life and for once seemed to understand the man that was Oliver Queen, instead of only being interested in his wallet. He could tell she was naturally quite a closed off person and had proved so at dinner but he was determined to find out more about the beautiful blonde that sat before him. And my word was she beautiful. There was an elegance to her face that captured his interest. It seemed so fragile and unlike the 'supermodels' he had had dinner with before, she had slight 'imperfections.' However, they only succeeded in making Oliver believe she was even more attractive- such as the cluster of beauty spots that were located on her left cheek. And her smile was bright and genuine, something the billionaire hadn't seen much it his life, which meant he struggled to look away when she gifted him one. Not to mention the fact that Chloe oozed in sexual sensations and Oliver struggled to contain his lust. The neckline of her shirt teased little glimpses of her cleavage, remaining classy and professional while driving the man crazy. He would never admit it but he had checked out her ass as he let her through the door to the restaurant. He had never felt such a connection to a girl before and he was dreading the moment that he would be forced to part with her at the end of the meal.

"So, who came up with the idea of the merger between Wayne Enterprises and Queen Industries initially? I mean its hardly something I thought would come from the people who gave the Inquistor half their headlines in the last three years," asked Chloe, after handing back the menu to a waiting waiter after picking her meal.

"You know I wish I could disagree with you but I can't. We were hardly a shining example of CEO behaviour. However, despite our personal lives, we both strongly believe in helping others and we think this is the best way to do it," Oliver replied, sipping his drink.

"So you came to the decision together," Chloe pushed.

"Bruce and I have always been close. It was inevitable, we both lost our parents young and we leaned on each other for support. But nothing can replace the love of a parent. Knowing that someone will love you unconditionally, no matter what, is something that is easily taken for granted. Instead we were both looked at for our status and trust funds. So we pledged to help everyone we could as soon as possible. This started at first in our home cities but now we want to expand it further. So yes, officially, we did decided to partake in this venture together," Oliver reflected, looking Chloe right in the eyes. The confident mask seemed to slip away for a moment and the orphan left behind by his parents sat in front of her. However it returned as quick as it had disappeared and Oliver lowered his voice and leant across the table to speak to his companion in a hushed tone. "Unofficially, it was totally my idea and Bruce can shove his claims up his arse."

Chloe laughed before firing her next question- "Taking into account your desire to aid those less fortunate than yourself, what is your view on vigilantes?"

Here we go... "Those nutters running around in fancy suits, thinking they're above the law?" Oliver smirked, knowing full well the irony of the situation. "They should just let the police do their jobs. They might present a danger to the country. Then again, with names like Superman and Batman, it's hard to take them seriously."

"But crime rates in Gotham City have fallen dramatically since the introduction of the Batman," Chloe fired back quickly, ready to defend her cause.

"And how much does it cost the public every time he blows up an office or crushes a police car under that Batmobile of his?" Oliver cried out, still faking his case against vigilantes. Not that I would ever admit this but I may or may not be extremely jealous that I don't have one for myself.

"Surely any means could be considered viable if justice is served," Chloe countered.

"So you're saying that murder is a viable option as long as it was for the greater good?"

Chloe opened and shut her mouth without making a sound. "No, of course not," she recovered. "But if one cop car gets destroyed while the Batman captures a mob boss that has been evading the authorities and would continue to do so if not for intervention, then the methods certainly equate to the means."

The pair stared at each other, both with wide grins on their faces. While they were on opposite sides of the argument, they were both thoroughly enjoying themselves. Oliver cleared his throat gently, sat back in his seat and broke from her gaze. "You know you are quite unlike the women I normally take out to lunch Miss Sullivan," he mused aloud, playfully looking her in the eyes once more. It was true. No date he had ever taken out with him to dinner had challenged him; shot back at him quip for quip nor ignored his charms quite like Chloe had. Most of his 'bimbos' sat there with fake smiles on their faces, flirting heavily, laughing falsely and loudly and often squeezing their arms together and leaning forward- exposing maximum cleavage unashamedly trying to seduce him. Mostly they ignored what he said, instead agreeing with him automatically and systematically. They weren't trying to get to know Oliver Queen, rather the number of his sorting code of his bank account. Chloe Sullivan seemed to do none of these things and that only interested him more.

Chloe took a breathe to respond but before she could she was prevented from doing so by the arrival of their food. While a plate of Spaghetti and meatballs was set in front of the billionaire, the reporter took a quiet bite of her Vitello politely. Once the waiter had gone she responded: "I don't know about that Mr Queen, I'm sure other journalists have interviewed you before."

"Yes, but they were either asking about my boxers or my business," Oliver said, sipping his drink. "But you seem to care about my answers- this isn't just a story to you."

"No it's not," Chloe replied, glad someone finally recognised that this was her life rather than a job. "So Queen Industries' numbers are seeing the fastest growth since you took over as CEO, despite no job loses nor corners cut. In such times of strife, how have you managed it?"

"Well in the last quarter, we've managed to continue our excellent relationship with the Pentagon, continuing a decade and a half long partnership, and we've been supplying them with body armour to the boys out on the frontline. We've just signed another contract to carry on developing them so that they are cheaper to make but also provide the most protection possible. Keeping Americans safe is my company- not making weapons or profits. I'm happy to help fight the good fight but I'd rather keep our soldiers safe that provide killing machines to them. If you ask me, I would cut back massively on spending in the armed forces and use it to help balance our stuttering economy. But that'll never happen, not in my lifetime at least, but we pledge to keep suppling the vest that save lives for as long as we can," Oliver summed up, as Chloe ate on, listening.

"But," Chloe mumbled before stopping, her mouth full of veal. Sometimes she forgot her manners while on the prowl for information, something to do with the Lane genes that resided in her DNA. "Sorry," she apologised, "what about your other ventures?" A contract with the Pentagon is great but Queen Industries has had that for over a decade. It doesn't explain why your figures have climbed do high."

"Well believe it or not, it takes a lot of hard work on my part," Oliver answered, sitting back in his chair once again, relaxed after finishing his meal. He was about to continue when he was interrupted by his companion bursting out into a fit of laughter, which he thought was very cute. "What?" He asked, befuddled.

"I'm sorry, it's just hard to take you seriously when you have tomato sauce all over your face like an eight year old," Chloe smirked.

"I'm sorry, I'm just a messy eater. I'm like that dog from that old animated Disney movie," the billionaire joked.

"Oh, Lady and the Tramp? I loved that movie as a kid! Yeah, you definitely fit the part of the Tramp" Chloe fired back, reflecting his grin.

Oliver looked up from mopping his mouth and his own brown irises met with green. "Only if you'll be my Lady."

Chloe blushed and went a blood orange colour while a waiter collected their plates and placed a bill on the table. "Oh the cheque's here already?" She questioned, starting to reach down for her purse.

Oliver stopped her by placing his hand around her thin, petite wrist. He tried to ignore the raw attraction surging from the sensation of her skin. "That's why I like it here, no waiting around for the bill," he said reluctantly releasing her arm. "And what's the point of letting a billionaire taking you to dinner if you won't let him pay?"

Chloe watched him pay the cheque and suddenly realised the implications. "I'll pay next time then," she blurted out without thinking.

Oliver beamed and struggled to keep his cool, "so there's going to be a next time?"

The blonde sitting opposite him seemed to stumble over her words as her mistake dawned on her and she managed to spit out that might be a need for a follow up interview as they made their way outside. Now standing on the pavement, Chloe turned towards her interviewee. "Thanks for lunch," she just about squeezed out.

"It was my pleasure. I assume being the independent woman that you are that you'll refuse my offer to walk you the five blocks back to the Daily Planet?" Oliver probed.

"Yes, you would be right to assume so," Chloe smiled, "See you again Mr Queen," she offered her hand.

"Yes," Oliver breathed, sad their time had run out. He took the hand gently and shook it.

The both walked away in opposite directions, both longing for more.

xxXxx

Author's note: I'm back baby doll! (sorry Ted Mosby). And thank god for it too. Exams are finally over and now all I have in front of me are three weeks of pointless filler school days and work experience and then the summer holidays. Booyaah!

My work experience is great. I'm PA to a judge and I basically make all his case note for him. My American readers would love it- it's all British accents/gentlemen (myself included ;P) and wigs galore!

This is my longest chapter yet and also my hardest to write. It was surprisingly difficult to get back into writing and nothing I did felt good enough. I was nervous about letting my favourite couple Chlollie down. However I prevailed and here it is. I would love to hear what you guys think of it as I am particularly nervous of my writing slipping after all this time.

Anyway thanks to all my readers for being patient with me and any new followers/favourites. I owe you everything! Thanks to the guest who reviewed chapter 15, you're encouragement is all I need! And we should be seeing more of Clark in the next chapter (maybe he will finally meet Lois again in that famous golden globe topped building) and probably some more Kara because she is great fun to write.

Thanks for reading my ramblings and cheers!