Wow... Reviews for that last chapter were amazing. Thank you so very very much.

And yes: Chloe is alive. Very much so. All will be explained as you scroll your way through the penultimate chapter *sobs quietly* I don't want it to end...

Chapter Forty Three; Chloe

Oliver woke with the same thought he had every morning: Chloe.

It didn't take him any time at all before his eyes flew open, his heart thumped loudly and he shot to a vertical stance. He was met by a familiar site, but not the one he craved. The soft cream carpet and white leather were mirrors of his plane. Had he passed out drunk and dreamt the entire event while flying over seas? His head pounded, supporting his hung-over theory. Groaning, he sunk back to the chair and dropped his head to his hands. Instantly he noticed two things; first, he was dressed in his green arrow leather. Second, the ache in his head was no backlash of unlimited booze; the carefully placed first aid was proof.

"Sorry about that." A guilty saddened and oh so sweetly familiar voice pierced his conscience. His head shot up, his body whipped toward her soft sound, his eyes drinking her in. The mystique haunting his daylight and night, the queen of his blood. He'd seen her face before, he'd heard her words as he picked up another bottle. But his hands were empty, his vision too straight to claim drunkenness. It crossed his mind with ease the possibility he had either snapped and was prey to insanity finally, or, with luck, he had met his end and was back in her arms forever. It didn't matter the afterlife existed for him inside his plane, it didn't matter that a long brown wig was tossed across one of the chair, nor that his head was pounding. Chloe was here.

Her heart was in her throat. There were so many different ways this could have happened, there still were variables. She waited for his reaction, whatever it may be. She could be swept off her feet, crushed by his needing body, ignored, or faced by his anger. He had a right to all of them, her head dropped slightly and the motion sparked him to life. He stepped forward, testing his balance and mentality. He tested his motions, curling his fingers into, then out of, a fist. It was her. Her bare feet poked out of the bottom of black trousers, a snug tank top black against her cream skin, her frame still petite, calling for him to touch and protect. Her blonde hair was a little longer, freely hanging below her shoulders, a wave to show where it had been tied at the nape of her neck under the wig. Her eyes were cast down, unreadable in their state. What was he to say to her? There were a thousand things in his mind.

Why didn't you say anything?

Why aren't you dead?

Why did you let me believe you were dead?

Were you planning on ever telling me?

How long?

His mind was rushing everywhere and he didn't even know where to begin. He'd dreamed of seeing her again for four months, four whole months of agony, planning the great re-union. All that changed was that both their hearts were beating and all his words now were useless. Her breath hitched, her hands wiping quick at her cheeks.

"Wh-" His question died after the first syllable but her face lifted, eyes connected with years of pain. Inside his chest his heart was confused, hugging the fragments of itself trying to figure out what to do, instead it kicked off at hyper drive. He demanded contact, to prove she was here, that the illusions weren't just learning how best to trick him. Usually she disappeared before he could feel her skin.

A gloved hand outstretched, his leather tips tickled feather light against her cheek. His heart slammed against the bone cage, she was real, she was here, she was looking at him with her blue eyes desperate for some words from him. She was really here.

Her lips tingled, a gloved thumb tracing the curve of them. It was just a touch, not even skin to skin, but she felt like her spirit had left her body, like everything became so delicate and precise, like everything she could ever want was in the movement of his fingers. The feeling consumed her, her tears back again.

It had been so long...

Four months away from him.

Four months and five days since she had last felt the deep pools of chocolate drinking her in.

Four month, five days and twenty hours since her heart had last jumped jagged through her system in response to him.

Every single minute it ached in its distance from him, but now as he stood before her, emotions indefinable, she couldn't stop the heavy pain shooting through her. Butterflies swam with razor sharp wings, slicing at her insides. What if something had changed? What if those four month, five days and twenty hours had been enough? What if he had moved on, like she'd told him to? Another silent tear fell, her lips parted in the well of sadness pushed over her.

The cold leather snaked around the back of her head and he closed their distance. His head bent, locking his eyes with hers. Why was he so quiet? Why was there nothing for her? Was he angry? Was he too broken? Was his mind elsewhere, with someone else? Her small hands touched to his arms, another silent second and she'd break beyond repair. She'd thought staying away was painful, but being here hurt so much more. Why wouldn't he say anything?

"Oliver…" Her voice pleaded for something, just something. To close the distance for the kiss, to pull her closer, to feel him again, anything.

"No." His eyes turned hard, surveying her with a sharp edge to his inspection. "It's my turn." he finished and dropped his hands. She felt empty instantly, like every bit of hope she once knew was gone and never going to return. Her hands found a seat and she mindlessly nudged herself into it. Oliver paced the small space, not wanting to go far enough away to lose her, but not trusting himself to get close. "You left me." he shot the accusation. Chloe chewed her lips, dropped her head slightly, it was instantly reprimanded. "Look at me god damn it." Her eyes met his, laced with a mixture of fear and anger. Fear that he could lose her again, anger that he couldn't stop it the first time around. "You left me." he spoke again, reining back his temper.

"I had to." she whispered, knowing his silence demanded answers.

"No. You didn't. For months I thought you were dead." His feet finally stood, a shoulders-width apart stationed with strength into the carpet. "Can you even imagine how much it hurts to see you walking and talking? I buried you for god's sake Chloe. I stood over your fucking grave thinking I'd lost you. I spent weeks pleading for some comfort and all this time you've been prancing around the country not even dropping in for a casual 'hey, I'm alive.'"

"It's not like I planned it." Her voice crawled from her dry throat, tears flowing freely, dripping from her cheeks. She must look like a mess by now, but Oliver saw nothing but the anger. The betrayal hit deep. He trusted her, he let her in, he loved her with all he had and she turned on him like this.

"But you did. You left me a fucking note Chloe. A note, telling me about some teenager's vision and some destined fate of your own death. You knew what was going to happen as soon as you stepped out the door. Ignoring for a second that you drugged me to make this happen, you practically walked to your own death. Only here you are. Alive and well. You want to explain what happened or is that another thing you're going to keep hidden? Granted, it's not as big as the whole defying death thing, but I'd stick it under the heading of things I need to know." The pacing had begun again, his fury had pulled up the wall, effectively blocking his tears.

"I wanted to. I wanted to tell you so bad. I did. But I couldn't. You couldn't know. You still shouldn't."

"Damn it Chloe. Do I mean nothing to you?" His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose then shot out to the side, waving off the questions need for an answer. She delivered anyway.

"You know I love you Oliver."

"Really? Well clearly we aren't using the same dictionary. When I love someone I don't include faking my own death while my lover organises funeral arrangements."

"Oliv-"

"No. You don't know half of what I've been through. I stood over your body for a month thinking somehow you'd come back to me. Was I crying over some doll you created for your sick game?"

"You don't know the half of what I've been through!" Chloe slammed her feet to the floor, the sadness no longer enough to hold her own anger. The carpet was suddenly feeling like bristles, stabbing at her soles. She came nose to nose with him, freezing his pacing with the flicker of her eyes. "Everyday it's been a fight to stay away from you. Do you think it was easy to see you drink yourself to death? Or to watch my own funeral? I wanted nothing more than to go and see you. But I couldn't. Not without risking everything I'd fought for."

"Why? You saw how much pain I was in. Why couldn't you have just come back to me, instead of letting me wash away my life for the death of some doll?"

"It wasn't a doll. And I couldn't tell you because I needed him to think he'd killed me."

"You better start explaining Chloe, 'cos I swear to god I'm running out of patience here." He ran his fingers over his eyes, slamming his body abusively into one of the chairs. Chloe breathed out her rising anger and leant back against the wall. She knew nothing good would come out of a shouting match.

"How much has Tess said about what happened?"

"Tess? Mercy knew?" His eyes burned deep with the same deceived sting. His hands formed fists, the leather tight over his skin.

"I didn't know if she'd told you anything or not though. I'm guessing she didn't say anything."

"You could tell Tess, but not me?" Tears threatened but he stayed strong, knocking them to the back of his mind and focussing on the anger instead.

"Tess's reaction to me dead or alive didn't change. Nobody would be any wiser about my life if Tess knew, but I needed to make sure you would be alright. I needed to know someone was looking out for you."

"So you kept Tess in the loop to play babysitter?" He could feel his rage waving in front of him again. He pulled it back swiftly, not wanting to hurt her or himself anymore.

"Let me explain?" she begged, Oliver just waved a hand in permission before cradling his head again. His hissed slightly, his palms shooting pain into his bandaged forehead. "Again, I apologise for that." she started and followed with a silent sigh. "I wasn't entirely honest with you before." Oliver coughed a reply of non-surprise but she continued. "What was left in me; the empty cells of Brainiac and the electro twins, well they were killing me. Literally. I figured since I was going either way I would take out Shadow's with me. Tess delivered me a drug from Lex's old stash which would accelerate the cell's powers. In short, I managed to stop the bastard from flashing all over the place."

Chloe's fingers traced over glass bottles in the lower cabinet she'd been hunting in and pulled out the stronger stuff. Pulling a face she made to replace it. She preferred wine anyway. Instead, Oliver's gloved hand came past her vision and pulled out two glasses and some scotch. She didn't question him as he poured two and dumped them down on a table between two chairs. He took one and with the glass before the other, she settled into it, her fingers toying along the glasswork. "But, he had a back-up plan." she breathed out, watching Oliver's eyes flicker briefly back to her face. They went back to watching her fingers quickly. "The powers we thought we stole from him were all obedience drugs, but with a twist that affected only my DNA. He knew I'd take one since he knew I'd need it to live. I was, and I am still, entwined with his blood. If he commands me to do something, I do it. Without question. No resistance. If he thinks I'm dead he won't use that, and you'll all stay safe. As much as I wanted to come back to you I knew he was watching you. He still is: your entire apartment is bugged. I couldn't come back without putting myself and you in danger. It was my choice and I would do the same again."

"So you jumped… Clark saw you jump, you died in his arms Chloe."

"I jumped. But it wasn't my body Clark held." She lowered her head. "I thought I was gone when I jumped. I thought it was my time that was up. I thought I'd done my part and I'd be at peace somewhere. I woke up watching Clark plead with a corpse mirroring my body." Her fingers glided the rim of the untouched glass. "Amber had called in some friends. One teleported me from my cliff dive swapping me with what another had created by changing the shape of a security guard shadow and his men had killed. Since then, I'd been staying away, following shadow and kicking him from place to place before he could get settled and start up his scheme. Basically just causing him one hell of a mess before he could start bombing again."

"So… at the shipping yard?"

"I had lost him." A bubble of laughter slipped free for a split second. "Blast was more than comfortable with bleeding in new associates. He didn't recognise me at all, not with the wig or voice modifier. I made a deal with him for a meeting with Shadow in exchange for a list of regular scouts your group made."

"You told him I was dead." It wasn't an accusation; the anger seemed to have simmered slightly. It was just an emotionless statement.

"You'd been missing from the papers for a good few weeks, it wasn't hard to believe. I knew Victor and Ac were pulling some solo missions so I only gave him their addresses. He said he just wanted to observe their attack style. I figured it wouldn't matter too much since he'd be dying soon." A hand brushed back her hair. "And then I saw you…" Her lips tugged with a smile. "You were all alone, and all I could think was seeing you again, touching you…" Her voice trailed off.

Was she giving too much? Had he moved on from her? But his face lifted and she saw curiosity. She continued. "I couldn't tell you who I was with the cameras all over. And you wouldn't come with a stranger… it was impulsive and rash… but I just wanted…" She breathed out. "I know I shouldn't have… I was so close to ending this once and for all, it would only be another few weeks before I could close this ugliness and come home myself. But… as soon as I saw you looking at me, all this… I don't know, it was a need or something. So… I, ummm." She inclined her head to his bandage with an apologetic grin. "And Tess helped me get you into the car and on the plane."

"And where is it we're flying to?" Chloe's smile faltered and crashed entirely, after all that he wanted to know such a simple question?

"We're not… We're still in the hanger. But, it's the only place I'm free from being hunted." She bit her lip and let her gaze drift around again. Oliver followed, suddenly aware of the blankets and bags.

"You've been living in my jet for four months?" She nodded in response. "I can't believe this…"

"I know it's a lot-" She was cut of by her own squeak, Oliver's untouched scotch suddenly flying into the wall of the plane. The glass shattered, the liquid splashed out. He was suddenly stood and was back pacing. She got to her own feet, mindfully careful to avoid the shattered glass but Oliver suddenly whirled, pinning her against the clean wall, his eyes were heavy, his hands either side of her head, his taller frame looming over her. Slowly his head shook, his mind going wild. "Ollie I-" His lips flew down capturing hers. Everything she thought she'd dulled stormed back into her. The fierce demand poured into her, shocking her already thundering heart and her lips easily slipped open before her mind could process. His frame pressed delightfully hard against her, even more proof she was there.

Her hands wound up around him, holding tight. Never again would she let him go, she needed him so much. Without him, life just wasn't good. His tongue plundered her mouth, taking back the taste he had been forbidden for so long. It was raw with need, desire claiming every motion. His hands stayed slammed either side of her head, pushing against the wall hard enough to leave their mark forever. His lips were demanding and harsh, probably bruising her, but all she could feel was relief. There was nothing more to wait for, he was here. Finally, after so long she could feel the tight ropes of muscles as he moved over her, feel him back inside her, feel his breath as he whispered love to her. But she needed something for her own piece of mind.

He felt her hands small and weak against his chest, he felt her trying to move him off of her. Damn it, he even let her, lifting back those few inches. But he didn't see anything but what he'd expected from his own eyes. Lust. Need. Passion. Want. Love.

She took a breath, and craned her neck up to his shadowed presence. "Ollie, I need to know…" she pleaded, her hands unable to stop their caress against his body. He was so warm, so tense, so alive. Curiosity nudged through the craving and he stood back from the wall, hands crossed over his chest, almost defensive, he could sense the question would not be appreciated. "Just… Is there anyone else? I know I told you to move on and I understand if you did I-" Oliver took that second to pounce, he was back pressed chest to chest with her, his lips taking her forbidden preposterous words from her mouth. Hands intertwined and he led hers to his groin. Her heart sped in gallops as she felt him hard under her hand. His lips freed hers and he spoke with a husk she'd never heard before.

"There is only you. Only ever you. This," He brought her hand closer against his hardness. "This is only ever for you. I love you Chloe, other women simply don't exist." He may as well have handed her his bare heart. She leapt back to him.

"I love you Ollie. God, I missed you so much."

Hands couldn't get enough.

Words became ineffective in description of need.

Clothes became obstacles.

Time was their envisioned enemy; everything had to be now or never.

His strokes were short and quick, the last flares of his temper poured into her open willing embrace as she shook for him. His back felt the sting of nails and everything felt right. Finally, he could breathe again. His climax brought her second and they separated only to crash on the floor, their heart pounding rapid in their chest, breath rushing into starved lungs. His rage was fully ebbed, his heart settled with her close to it. Finally... his pain was over.

Chloe giggled and rolled to get comfy in Oliver's arms, her entire skin was buzzing alive with electricity. Oliver must have felt it to as he slid back shocked then wiggled forward again. It was like static electric shocks, pouring from where she touched. His raised brow caused another bout of giggles before she explained.

"It's Brainiac." she laughed.

"I didn't realise I signed on for a threesome." Chloe curled back, letting the shocks simmer where skin met with his. "When did you get Brainiac back?" His curious concern took the giggles but her smile stayed strong.

"Lex's magic potion brought back a lot of things. And I hate to say it, but none of them are bad." Oliver's arm wound tighter and she curled to half lay across his shirt covered chest. They hadn't exactly gone the whole way with clothing removal. Her trousers were about to fall from one of the chairs, his books kicked astray and green leather pants laying somewhere with his boxers. Otherwise her panties had just been shoved aside in their need. Even his gloves were still on, to her ever loving sensational delight, well one was on, the other he'd tugged away with his teeth. Lord knows where it was now. "Brainiac regenerated along with Sparky one and two. I haven't tested it, but I think the healing powers are back as well."

"You won't be testing that fact." She rolled her eyes at his harsh stare.

"I probably won't, since Brainiac is healing me, and electro boys are healing Brainiac. Everything works, everything's fine, and the only side effect is a little electrical happy tingle when my body goes wild." Her cheeks warmed as she finished her sentence.

"Wild huh?" He praised her with a kiss to her cheeks then lips, each in turn. "Brainiac heals you again then?"

"It's a good thing too actually." she commented, then paused, already regretting the words. Damn Oliver for coercing her freedom to talk. She sighed and spat it out. Slowly she rolled over him to his other side. For a few seconds he was confused then her hands turned his head to the shattered glass and scotch stained carpet, now decorated with drops of Chloe's blood.

"Fuck Chloe. I'm sorry. Why didn't you say anything?" He ran his fingers down her back, finding the shirt cut in places. Silencing him she sat up, shedding the shirt and along with it, the mismatched bra went. Holding up her hair she turned her back for his full inspection. Not a single scar touched her, no blood, nothing. The smooth flawless skin of her back tingled as his fingers lightly stroked down her spine. His other hand, still gloved in the leather wrapped around to her breast. Her moan was beautifully responsive to his exciting touch. He chuckled and sat up with her, his lips along her collarbone. "Like that huh?" Grinning, she twisted her head back, stealing his lips again.

"Shirt. Off." she instructed, taking her fingers down her own legs to discard the underwear completely leaving her bare. Oliver shucked the shirt and tossed the black socks to join it. He knew it was a pet peeve of hers for a man to wear socks when the rest of him was naked. She grinned, but stopped him as his teeth griped to the edge of the other leather glove. "Leave it on." she pleaded, analysing her own voice and comparing that to a cheap dollar whore prowling the streets. Shaming herself; she didn't find much difference.

"Chloe, I appreciate the kink, but I need to touch you, to feel you." She took both of his hands, one bare, one covered. She placed each on a breast, instantly knowing which one she preferred. Oliver's fingers may be directly satisfying, but the leather added that spark even she couldn't find in herself.

"You can touch me. You can feel me." She illustrated her point, squeezing his hands and in turn her own breasts. The gloved thumb rolled across her nipple and her moan was his undoing. The glove stayed on.

His hands ran free over her body, appraising every inch with the four months of lost kisses and caresses. She was practically thrashing under him when he slid the leathered fingers between her curls. Expert motions found her sweet clit and precisely accurate circles slowly built up the heated flush over her skin that she craved. "Oh. Please. Ollie. Don't tease. Oh. Uhhh. Oh god." Her nails bit into his forearm. "Please. I need you. It's been too long." He chuckled, breathing his warm breath across her raised nipples sending more shivers through her.

"It's only been about 10 minutes."

"10 too many" she argued. He saw her point but proceeded to play her as he saw fit.

"I missed you." His lips brushed her shoulder, leading up her neck then slowly trailing back. "My fingers missed the way you clamp around them, wishing they were my cock." Her inner walls were pulsating, her juices slipping to her thigh with need. She never thought she'd be one to be turned on by talking dirty, but god, she was soaking herself.

"Ollie…" she moaned. Her back arched, a gasp fled her parted lips, her head dropped back to his shoulder as his fingers sped, playing almost like speeding ghosts over her bud of nerves. "Oh god. Please… ohhh." Her hips bucked and with that extra pressure she breathed out in one long moan, her eyes slammed closed and fingers squeezed tighter. The orgasm was barely finishing before he lifted and turned her, wrapping her legs behind his back, sliding into her neatly, and letting her chest collapse onto his. She could feel the beads of sweat rolling down her back, but in that moment she only cared about the solid length filling her completely.

Lips met again, bringing her back to life. Her moans just seemed to continue from before, her clit buzzing sensitively but adding to the delightful mix of lust and sex. He was slow and savouring, letting the memories imbed themselves forever. This was no devil, no angel. This was pure Chloe, no fear, no temper, no tease. Stripped out before him, her only needs being of the most primal and animalistic, and she was beautiful. If he could paint, he'd have a portrait of her like this hung above their bed. If he could sculpt she would forever be in their bedroom mid-orgasm. If he had the care for a camera right now, she'd be wallpaper.

Her lips wrapped around his lobe, biting and sucking, demanding more. Groans took the air in an ancient harmony and the dance sped up. The time for gentle faded with the rising bubbles in his blood. Long deep strokes fired up heat, erupting from her with an overflowing passion. He held on long enough to watch her hit crest before freeing himself inside her, his cock milked by her spasming walls.

Some number of breaths later he had the sense to cradle her in his arms, dragging a blanket from the side and snuggling them both together in the reclining lush seats at the back. Chloe snuggled closer, closing her eyes and feeling peaceful for the first time in four months. Maybe even more peaceful that before that, when it was just her and Oliver, no death threats, no inner turmoil. She stroked a hand lazily through his half cocked spiked hair and smiled to herself. Right now was where she wanted to be forever. Oliver laid a quick habitual kiss to her forehead and asked the dreaded question.

"What happens now, Chloe?" She lifted her head for a few seconds then settled back against his bare chest.

"I see two options." she admitted honestly, already dreading bringing up the conversation. "We can either let the others search for you, and finally they'll presume you've been kidnapped and killed by a tiny brunette." He chuckled under her and wound his arms tighter. "Or… you can go back and explain how you heroically freed yourself from an anonymous female who tried to kidnap you and use you for sex." The light tone she tried to push out was sensed to be fake by everyone within a 100 mile radius, but Oliver didn't comment on her forced comedy.

"I was actually referring to our Shadow problem, but valid point." Her stomach sank for jumping the gun, she closed her eyes and wished them to the Bahamas. Instead she was still on the plane, still under the black shadowed cloud.

"I have a plan." she sighed heavily and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. She hadn't got a decent night sleep in a long while.

"And this plan would be?"

"Top secret. But if you want to help I'll allow you to call in the boys. As long as you promise not to mention the small fact I'm alive."

"You drive a hard bargain." he complimented and pecked a kiss to her sleepy eyes. "When's the last time you slept?"

"Roughly 4 months, 5 days and 21 hours ago." she answered automatically and stifled a yawn. She wriggled closer and found a comfy spot to rest her head. Oliver grinned; it looked like he wasn't the only one counting.

"Why didn't you rent a room with a real bed?"

"I did. I got bored of washing myself with your tiny bathroom a few times and rented a room a few blocks away under the named Chloe Queen. But the bed wasn't the issue; I can sleep perfectly fine here. I was just missing something." Her fingers told him it was him.

"Chloe Queen?" Chloe flashed her eyes open. Did she say that part aloud? Oh fuck. Damn sleep induced crazies.

"I-It… I j-bu…." She sighed and crashed her head against his shoulder. "I don't care. Make what you want of it. Your money paid for it anyway." He frowned… when did she take his money? "You forget I wired your bank accounts shut." She grinned. "I may have made myself a little worm hole, and Tess may have been kind enough to offer me her laptop for illegal activities."

"You didn't think of using that money to buy yourself a real place to stay?"

"I thought of using that money to smoke signal you with my existence…" she answered deathly honest. "Trust me Ollie, your plane was good enough for me." His fingers trailed down her back absently, making rough guideless patterns. "Admittedly, it wasn't my first choice. But your renovations of Watchtower and Isis were still busy while I was hunting, and there was too much traffic in and out to get comfy."

"You know about them huh?" A coy smile played on his mouth

"Were you planning on telling me how much money you dropped on repairing them?"

"You're a sneaky thing aren't you? Does it help if I tell you I was planning on giving them to you on your birthday?" His fingers curled under her chin, her sleepy eyes trying to keep focus on him.

"Sure. But it would have put me in an awkward position when it came to buying for you. You can't really top two buildings."

"Only one was for your birthday." he admitted with a kiss to her cheek and bringing her back to rest across him. "The other was for the day I proposed. I figured it would sweeten the pot." She laughed and swatted him on the shoulder.

"Phone the boys. I have some sleep to finally catch up on." Chloe insisted Oliver leave the phone on speaker so she could make sure he didn't give her existence away. She hadn't realised quite how much she'd missed them. All her thoughts had been Oliver... but nothing could stop the smile as she heard the thrashing verbal violence of Dinah.

He ran over the plan with them and they curled up together to nightmare free dreams of solid sleep for a good 8 hours.

Ohhh. So pretty, so sweet... so mushy...

The next chapter is the last... the final... the end...

There's a 20% chance i'll cry when I post it...