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A Chloe/Oliver fic.

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Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Smallville. I'm just hopelessly in love with this pairing.

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A/N: Just a quickie, hope you guys like this.

About how their relationship delves into more than just sex, without either of them knowing.

As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!

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It hadn't started out this way. It had only been about their need for some animalistic release, for someone to crash down against when everything seemed like it would bring them down. It had been about scratching each other's itches, when no one else could even come close.

They'd kept it a secret, because no one else would understand why they needed each other, and they were both willing to just leave it at that. Lois might have figured it out, but she didn't say anything. If Clark had known, he would have burst in with his superiority complex, and told them how wrong what they were doing was. Everyone else would just look at them like they were dirty. So, yeah ... they kept it a secret.

They had rules, though. They promised never to get attached to this thing they were doing, never to take it out of whatever room that they released it in. They never spoke of it outside of the moment, it always just happened. And they never used their names. It was always 'Arrow' and 'Tower'. Sometimes it was 'Green Arrow' and 'Watchtower', but when they were lost in their haze of lust, the shorter one was always easier to pant and moan out.

After an especially long day, he would hang behind after the others, and they would christen some new area of Watchtower. If a tragedy occurred and they couldn't deal with it, they would find the nearest secluded place, and forget the world for a short while. It was always about need. Never about want, or happiness, or love. Just lust, passion, and heat.

Sometimes that fire felt like it would consume them alive. But they always came back for more.

For a long time, they knew that there were no feelings involved with what they were doing, it was just a release of energy and stress. But then it slowly started blossoming into something more.

Their sessions together began to last longer. Their bodies moved slower against one another, almost abandoning altogether the frenzied, rushed pace of before. When they cried each other's names, it wasn't their codenames that were spoken, it was their true names. When he gripped his fingers against her flesh and changed the angle of his hips to drive more fully against her, she whimpered, "Oliver". And when her nails dug into the rippled skin of his back, tightening her knees against his hips and biting down softly on the skin of his neck, he grunted out, "Chloe". They never noticed the change until afterwards, and even then they didn't talk about it. They didn't give credence to the 'error in judgment'. They just went about business as usual.

But too soon, it became harder and harder to 'go about business as usual'. They needed more from each other ... they wanted more.

It happened without their consent, without their complete realization. Maybe it was just a natural progression of their situation ... He started staying longer after they collapsed together, she showed up at his place and actually called first. Whenever they were on COMMs on a mission, he managed to get a subtle phrase in to let her know he was thinking of her, without letting the others know what he was saying. She always said his name first when doing a roll-call of their team.

It wasn't until he suggested they grab dinner together after a mission - instead of immediately falling into the nearest bed-shaped object - that she realized how much had changed. Not only because he'd asked her, but because she hadn't even thought about it. She'd just grabbed her coat and moved with him towards the elevator.

It didn't occur to her to be uncomfortable with him asking her out to dinner, it didn't occur to her that people would see them. It didn't occur to her that being on the arm of a billionaire was news-worthy, and that soon enough her friends would discover their relationship. It didn't even occur to her to tell the voice in her head that it wasn't a relationship. For so long, they had just been 'partners', on and off the field. It hadn't been about feelings, it hadn't been about declarations of belonging and love.

But all that had changed. When the first cameraman snapped her picture at the restaurant he'd chosen, he didn't immediately confiscate the camera, he didn't suggest she go out the back way. He pulled her closer, smiled down at her, and planted a soft kiss on her mouth.

He'd never kissed her so tenderly, and she found herself returning the soft pressure with a smile.

Somehow, at some point, their need for each other had turned into a deep connection that she'd never imagined. Everything else just seemed to fall into place. He pulled out a chair for her, and she casually picked a piece of lint off of his shoulder. He smiled down at her, and she was already grinning back up at him.

The constant flash of the cameras around her were barely a slight annoyance, because all she was looking at was the shine in his eyes.

It had been a good day. They'd gotten the job done, no one had gotten hurt, and a bad guy was currently cursing them for ruining his operation. All in all, a good day. Their was no need to take comfort in one another, no need to shut out the rest of the world.

And still, they'd found a way to be together.

They didn't care that the rest of the world would know about their relationship by tomorrow, they didn't care that they would likely be cornered and questioned by their friends ... all they cared about was that they'd finally found someone who understood them, who made them happy ... and it felt good.

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The end.

This one just came to me out of nowhere, so I had to get it down.

What did you guys think? Like it, hate it?

Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.

Until next time ...!