Oh you guys. I'm so emotional right now. Your support has been mind-blowingly amazing. All your kind words have made this possible, and now, as I take my last look at the final chapter I feel tearful.

I can't believe how amazing you all have been. Thank you, a million thank yous to everyone who read and reviewed this. I can't believe it got this long either... and you guys have stayed with me. Oh, I need a group hug before I start crying on my laptop frying the system and crashing all my work. Thank you, with all my heart, thank you.

I tried to tie up all loose ends from previous chapters, if something is left open, please don't hate me too much. This chapter is long. 16 pages in word. It's a bit clunky at a few stages, and trust me, I've been fighting all night to post this now rather than spend another year fiddling with the last chapter like I'd otherwise end up doing.

Oh, I'm emotional again. I'm such a sap. haha.

Previously; Chloe woke up in Watchtower. Oliver woke up a short while after and then I threw you some tension, some love and some mixed feelings. I left with Oliver high on RL-65 and Chloe running from his claims of love that were a bit too much for her vulnerable caged mind.

Now; The final chapter, all rolled into one.

Chapter Forty-Six; All Good Things.

'The devil is in the details. If you don't pay attention to the details, he will win.' - Lionel Luthor (Season Three, Episode Forsaken).

A blue moon sang in the night's sky, perfect white clouds danced with grey and took centre stage in her world. She followed her mind, blocking out the ache in her heart. The first car she came across she took for her own, driving straight into the slums of Metropolis.

All along there had been one man who'd begged and pleaded for her to run. Away from Lex, away from the Luthor name, away from their reach. Finally, she could tell him she was leaving. Heading to a town where nobody knew her name, nobody had even heard of the Luthors and nobody stuck their noses into her past. No one who tried to cage her; she'd be free. Alfie would give her than damn, grumpy-git grin of his and tell her she should have done it years ago… and she'd have to agree.

Chloe managed a smile to herself, but as quickly as it came it vanished. Sirens sounded all around the slums, blue and red lights flashing against the night. Chloe kept driving, taking herself a longer way around and through more dangerous parts of the town. Alfie would know what happened. It seemed big though.

But as Chloe walked on edge through the back streets of the back end of the city she didn't once come across trouble. In fact she met mournful eyes that quickly turned their gaze away. Something big had definitely happened. But it was the next pair of eyes that had her assuming the worst, the eyes that spotted her and were instantly consumed with sadness. Her careful walk turned to a fast walk, and then she gave in to the worry in her mind, sprinting towards the house she'd once called home.

Yellow police tape over the door stopped her in her tracks, shattering her frozen bones and pulling at her tear ducts. No… it couldn't be!

She pushed forward only to spot the tell-tale bloodstain on the porch. A sickness overcame her and she crashed herself to the wall, the horror trying to throw itself from her system, but the lack of food or water left her dry heaving as tears ran down her cheeks.

"He's in a happier place." Chloe whirled, ready to fight off whoever interrupted her. But the words belonged to Alfie's long term neighbour, an old widow with too many grandkids to count. But here she stood alone, the same grieving eyes as the others.

Chloe wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Who?" Chloe asked, but she knew the answer. Lex. Lex had done this. He'd always said he'd make sure she had no-one to run to, and Alfie was the last tie. She'd gotten him killed.

"Oh don't child." The motherly voice started but Chloe didn't obey. It was her fault. "Look, someone came by afterwards…" she began and Chloe once again returned her attention, this time seeing a large brown envelope in her hands and a shy golden lab poking it's head from her front door. At least the dog would be given a good home. "Insisted Chloe Sullivan gets this." She pushed out the package towards her. "Said he was instructed to deliver it to the address, said he wouldn't leave until it was delivered." She shuffled nervously when Chloe didn't instantly accept it. "Figured it was for you… don't know any other Chloe's."

"What is it?" she asked, hesitant.

"Don't know child, but the man who dropped it off had an expensive suit. He wasn't from around here. Persistent too." Granny Norris, the kids used to call her. She re-defined patronising mothering. But, she cared. Probably a little too much.

Chloe slowly stepped forward, weak on her legs, worried about the contents, but accepting of the package. "And don't be too sad Child. He'll be up there with his cigars complaining about the eggs." That was Alfie.

Both women suddenly turned towards voices in the neighbouring alley. "You better go before there are questions." Granny Norris advised and Chloe obeyed like a good child, instantly taking off down the back roads. Odd blood stains greeted her on her exit, but her stomach stayed where it was as she ran past. Blood wasn't a rarity for the slums. Blood in public however… that was different. Lex had crossed several lines, not just of the law. He'd be lucky if there was a single person in the slums not out for his blood.

Oliver paced, locked in the cage Chloe had only just been released from. Apparently RL-65 didn't come with any tolerance building abilities. The instant the doors closed he'd felt the full effects, slamming into him like a truck. He wanted to hunt Lex down and kill the bastard in several different ways, that would all make the most macabre and sadistic serial killers flinch. He wasn't surprised when he was 'encouraged' into lock-up. He was angry, but more with himself. But, even as he paced he couldn't bring himself to regret his decision. He needed the shot to heal himself, he would have been utterly useless without it. But… the side effects… they needed work.

When the pacing became too stationary he dropped to the floor, pressing himself from the ground repeatedly. Push-ups were hardly busying for the mind, but he had a hope that he could sweat the chemical from his body. And with that, he found his enthusiasm for the action, repeated again and again until his arms were too sore to hold him up and the numbers became too high to recall.

And then, all he had was his thoughts as he ran on the spot.

Maybe to other women his words wouldn't have been so possessive, but he should have thought, he should have known better, he should have… but, there he was again regretting the consequence of his words, but not the words themselves. In the same situation, if he was to go back in time… he'd still want to say them, he'd still want her, but maybe he'd have the tact to change his tone. Maybe he would have taken half the dose of the drug…

There were so many maybe's in his mind.

Maybe he should have stayed on the bed, injured and helpless and let her play doctor. No, he couldn't stand being pitied.

Maybe he should have held her here, refused to let her go. No, it wouldn't have aided anything.

He would do exactly the same…

The anger he felt at that flooded him a fresh and he dropped himself back down to more press-ups. The more pain his arms felt, the less pain his heart would feel.

She was coming back.

She'd be coming back.

It was his only light in the darkness.

Chloe sat in the stolen car, parked in a motel lot with the ominous envelope playing tricks on her mind, teasing her.

It was document size and heavier than it looked. And… the handwriting was distinctly Luthor. Lionel Luthor judging by the slashing way he wrote the 'S' in Sullivan.

She pulled over the package to her knee, turning it over a few times before deciding it safe to open.

But what hid inside she could not have prepared herself for.

Lionel Luthor's last will and testament.

Chloe froze, tugging closer the jacket and staring at the paper. What was she doing with Lionel's will?!

More importantly, what was so important he'd had 18 judges witness it? At 3am?! Two days ago…

Jesus, whatever he had written must be damn important.

Curiosity called out to her and she turned the pages to the secret Luthor life.

But the more her eyes skimmed past, the more they resembled giant black saucers. Whatever meds they had Lionel on in his last days had messed with his mind. Lex was getting nothing. Not even a cent.

Where did it go?

Sole beneficiary; Chloe Anne Sullivan.

From the moment Lionel died she'd been given controlling interest in Luthorcorp. She owned several Luthor estates, including the prison Lex had called home for years. There were businesses flying left and right all now landing in her lap. Atop that (as if it wasn't enough) Lionel's billions were rolling into a bank account he'd set up in her name, the card enclosed…

He'd lost the plot. He'd gone crazier than his son.

Lionel had threatened her, blackmailed her, kidnapped her, abused and beaten her and now left her with all of his… well, everything…

He'd lost his mind…

Unbelieving of the document she kept turning pages until she found a second set of pages at the back. Ones she'd read several times over and nearly memorised paragraphs of.

Her contract.

Neatly written on the cover was something more precious than dollars or estates.

'It hardly amends the transgressions of my past, but I could not die knowing my son would gain greater power from having you by his side. Miss Sullivan, you are free.'

There, tucked at the back of her existing contract sat another one, one she'd never seen. A contract signed by her original 'owner' that over-rode everything in the previous. A contract he'd drafted the day after he'd claimed her, a contract that gave him the power to release her from the deal, regardless of who owned her, and… he'd signed it. Lionel had held her ace all along, he'd written himself a winning hand to top Lex whenever he wanted. He'd been primary owner and master of her freedom all this time. Rage mixed with indescribable pleasure in a torrent of tears, gasps and screams.

The eternal game of chess between father and son had finally finished. Lex had lost.

She was free.

Chloe hastily added her name to the papers and took her freedom with her as she left the state, driving as fast as she could to anywhere and everywhere. She'd wanted to be free, she'd wanted to see the world, and she was going to. She was finally free!

The next weeks flew by in a flurry of green leather for Oliver, his time spent on rooftops rather than spreadsheets. He blamed himself, for a whole load of things. While he could tell the others he was using Arrow's saves as catharsis, in truth, he was saving people to pass the time as he hunted down Lex. Oliver had done wrongs in his life, but if Lex hadn't have been there, half of Oliver's wrong wouldn't have counted.

Dinah shoved an Armani suit onto him when the business events needed Oliver Queen to be present, she pushed eggnog into his hand and insisted he fake a smile for the world, and he did. He did it very well. But the second she left, he was taking a crossbow from the shelf and battling the cold temperatures and sludge snow for some relief.

The others were busy their own life demands to constantly police Oliver; Dinah was busy with Bruce, AC was busy with his new girlfriend and Victor was immersed in charity work and helping Emil with his research wading. Bart… Bart was MIA. Considering Oliver had told him to F*** off, he was adding Bart atop the pile of guilt he had.

There came a letter to Watchtower on the fifth of the month. No return address, no personal details, just a list of names. A list Oliver was sure was from Chloe, entitled 'crooked cops'. Of course she would know who was on Luthor's payroll and she'd given him the golden bullet to clean up the city. He had, sending the list to the mayor and press, ensuring the search for Lex was unhindered.

As for Luthor, no-one had seen him since his father's death. There had been more shootings, but only assumptions could tie them to Lex. Dock workers, pilots… anyone who could have offered an escape or transportation had met bullets if Lex didn't like the way they answered.

Lex was firing on crossed wires, seeing no problem with his actions, hiding out and hunting for a woman that couldn't be found.

Oliver would know; he'd tried.

It took just over two weeks for Lex's blazing trail to end. On December 14th he was surrounded by police at a private estate just outside of Star City. Photos of his arrest littered the covers of newpapers, video footage showed how he screamed curses at a women called Chloe. The media ate it all up, twisting story over story with fictional detail about the psychological scars Lex just couldn't stop picking at until he fell apart. Thousands of theories came out of the woodwork, from the bizarre to the confounding.

But for Chloe, she sat before the tv, the French morning breeze streaming through the window, Bart to her left.

"You told them?" she questioned knowingly. There were only three people who knew Lex had that estate; Lex, Lionel and Chloe. Considering Lionel was dead, Lex wouldn't turn himself in, and Chloe had only told Bart… she had a feeling who had anonymously told the police of Lex's location.

"Com'on Chlo, you can hardly tell me it was wrong." he jested, but her face showed nothing of the happiness he was feeling. Lex was in custody with enough evidence to put him away for years, but she wasn't even cracking a smile. "Chlo, com'on… it's all over."

"No. it's not." she huffed and pushed from her feet. "My name is the newest, juiciest bone for the hungry press. What happens if they keep digging? What happens if someone listens to what Lex starts saying? What happens if he goes to trial and drags me down with him?!"

"But… you've got the contract… you're free from him… right?" Bart tested.

"That doesn't erase my past!" She ran her fingers hard through her hair, only angered more when she recalled the plaited knot stopping her from stroking the full length.

"… Chlo… no-one's going to listen to him…"

"All it takes is one reporter with a stick up their ass." She slammed herself down onto the bed. France was looking less and less safe the longer the news carried on. She needed to move, to stay on the move…

"I thought you'd be happy… he'll be behind bars, he can't touch you." Bart whispered to her panicked form. "Not from here… and… it'll all blow over. But… he's away… right?" The support Bart wanted for his decision was quickly flying out of the window and into the chilly snow. His eyes watched as Chloe suddenly darted to her feet, tore the packed bag from under the bed and shoved back in what little supplies she'd dared to take out. "Chlo… where we going now?" He'd followed her to 4 different countries so far, worry had consumed him… Chloe would never admit it, but she needed company and he was a friend enough to give her what she needed regardless of what she would say at times about his pushy personality. Victor kept him updated about Oliver and it seemed neither of the love birds were happy fliers.

"Not we." she spoke, but the words lacked any venom, Chloe knew it wasn't Bart's fault. They would have found Lex eventually, this day was bound to come. "I need you to go back to Metropolis."

"Chlo-" But this wasn't an emotional Chloe he found himself confronted with, it was a carefully planned leader taking measures to ensure the best result.

"I need you to keep me updated, damage control if you have to." And the instructing tone suddenly softened as she met Bart's scared eyes. "I'll be fine." And she pulled him into a friendly hug. She had her plans on where to go, she'd keep moving, use the Luthor money to keep her afloat and wait until Lex met his sentence and the media had another bone to gnaw at.

"Chlo… I can't just leave you."

"You can and you will."

Bart couldn't help but see it as a punishment for his actions. Chloe had known where Lex had been hiding out since he disappeared and she'd said nothing. He'd taken the choice out of her hands and now he was sent away. But as time kept trotting along, as Lex's trial progressed, Bart was glad he was the one who could call her the second court adjourned for the fifth time, still undecided on the verdict.

"Any news?" she began, he could hear the nerves in her voice.

"Insanity!" Bart exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down as lawyers walked past him outside the court house.

"What about it?"

"Lex's lawyer is encouraging a plea of insanity." Chloe felt her heart thump in her chest. "Everything he says will be nothing but the ramblings of an insane man." But… no death penalty… But… Chloe was protected still. She could deal with this.

Bart heard a sigh of relief down the phone and smiled a huge grin to himself. It was over.

"When?" she asked softly, the rush of oxygen making her light headed.

"The trial resumes tomorrow. I'm guessing it will take a few days to prove his insanity but as soon as the press gets it, your name will be clear." All investigation would drop and they'd be blurting out about his psyc scores and making assumptions about which insane asylum would be lucky enough to take the great Luthor. There would be questions about his wealth and estates, would the state take the all since there was no heirs? Bart's smile dropped… what would happen when they realised Lex had very little to his name and that Lionel's will had been given to another?

"Let me know what happens." Chloe breathed, probably thinking along the same lines. "And thanks Bart."

"You're coming home soon, ri-" but the line rang dead and Bart sighed to himself. Soon.

By December 20th Lex Luthor was a resident of Belle Reve.

By December 21st Lex Luthor was calling his lawyer from the infirmary, blood dripping down his arm.

While the enhanced inmates of Belle Reve tortured the body of Lex Luthor, the free meteor infected individuals tortured his spirit, burning effigies of him in the streets, condemning him to his promised seat in hell and cursing at his name. There were very few people who supported the Luthor name anymore. Even those loyal by financial persuasion were fading away.

Then there was Chloe, she sat biting her fingernails in Peru, not daring to be happy when the tables could turn so easily. She had too much fear of the Luthor men's capabilities to risk a smile at the news.

And Oliver? He turned his eyes to the door, his thoughts to Chloe. Would she be coming back now? But as the afternoon came and passed, his hope started fading, holding tight onto the words she spoken. She was coming back. She said so.

December 23rd

Two days until Christmas. Moira Sullivan had spent years under mental health care, then after an altercation or two, she was now in Belle Reve, but unlike her previous accommodation it was all too easy to forget Christmas was coming here. No decorations were hung, no carols playing in the corridors, there was no decorated tree in the family room. No family room really…

Unless you kept a calendar it would be all too easy to forget the month you were in, let alone the date.

Days revolved around tablets, eating, sleeping and the hours of supervised recreation spaced through the long hours. Today was different though. She'd been seething all night after the orderlies had walked past her cell gossiping about the inmates.

It wasn't un-natural that they gossiped, they had nothing better to do when it was quiet at nights and no-one was screaming murder from their cells. The night before it was about Lex's injuries from Gabriel Sunderland. Gabriel was far from the angel his name claimed, he'd raped and mutilated three teenage girls in a drug aided haze and somehow won his insanity plea. Moira barely felt sympathy for Lex.

But last night, the keepers of the keys had walked past discussing the insane 'ramblings' of Lex's drug addled mind. Their wonder focussed on a girl named Chloe Sullivan Lex had claimed to have owned. Moira had always presumed Chloe had been too ashamed to visit her mother, but the things they said, the words they repeated from Lex's mouth, it boiled her blood. The Luthors had abused her daughter. And this Luthor was working on being freed, and if she knew Lex, he'd probably be framing someone for his crimes as they spoke. He'd be out before the week ended. She couldn't let him return to her. And Moira had little to lose.

So today she'd protect her daughter, to make up for the years she'd failed.

Today, as she passed up recreation time for a 'headache', she sat alone in her cell with a prize from that morning.

There was a shared task of laundry, and for a few honoured people, you got good behaviour points for helping. Moira's aid that morning was to steal the exercise sweatband Gabriel used, and there it sat in her hands. Moira quietened her thoughts, focussing on the grubby object in her hands, and all too quickly she'd taken over the mind of Gabriel. Without much effort, she moved his body past the paint easels, slipping a paintbrush out of view and crossing the room to Lex's position in line for afternoon tablets.

She had very little to lose, and Gabriel's luck that had saved him from the death penalty was finally running out.

The thing about institutes and asylums, is that you can never make them deathproof. If someone wanted to kill someone, truly wanted it, it might be difficult, but it wouldn't be impossible to do. Moira tightened Gabriel's grip on the paintbrush, spinning it so the bristles brushed his palm, the wooden handle against his forearm. And then, queued behind Luthor, as the orderlies finally noticed, she pulled Lex back, an arm around his neck, jabbing the end of the brush into his midrift, aiming for the liver. She would have hit her target dead on, if the damn bastard hadn't had flipped her in defence, slamming Gabriel to the floor and shaking her from his body.

Moira blinked herself back to the room, instantly tightening her grip on the sweatband and pushing her spirit back into the bastard.

He was fighting, physically and mentally and she barely got a glimpse of the sight from his eyes before she was kicked back out, but it was enough to make her relax. The paintbrush was imbedded into Luthor, he was paling and crashed against the orderlies. She may not have hit her target, but Luthor was going down.

Moira didn't feel guilt, she didn't feel wrong. She felt like she'd finally been a mother to her daughter, the only way she could from inside this hell.

December 25th

Christmas, Oliver thought as he sighed. It was Christmas day and he had his hand stuck up a turkey, standing alone in his kitchen. A lot had happened in the past two days, but mostly, Oliver had just been miserable. Lex had been declared dead December 23rd… and here Oliver was, alone, still without Chloe's return. His hope was slowly turning into a noose for him to hang himself on.

He'd expected her back the same day Lex's body was cold. He'd closed his eyes and told himself he'd only have to wait a few more minutes before she rushed through his door and into his arms. But he kept greeting the world without any visitors.

Well, there was Dinah, dragging along Bart. In the spirit of family, success and Christmas, Dinah had proposed a home cooked Christmas meal for the gang. And who had she nominated to cook and host? Oliver.

Oliver had his suspicions she was just trying to keep him busy and thus his mind from realising how miserable he was. He agreed. And now, pushing stuffing into a dead bird's ass, he couldn't help but think of his sadness, the very thing this was meant to stop.

He'd so desperately wanted her to come barging through his doors in the past two days, he wanted her to be sat on his sofa when he woke up this morning smiling her perfect smile and wishing him a Merry Christmas. Did she even like Christmas? When was her last real Christmas?

No, he chastised himself, filling up the last of the bird and preparing it for the oven. He had a long day ahead, longer considering how long the bird needed to cook for. Preparing food gave him enough of a task to just barely think of her in the back of his mind, but she was always there. With nothing else to do but wait for the turkey to cook, he set himself a timer and went back to bed to embrace his gloomy persona with a film.

Oliver blinked himself awake, rubbing at his eyes and wondering just when he'd fallen asleep. The timer beside him told him the turkey still had another 20 minutes before it was ready. His eyes went back to the film, playing the title sequence over and over. It was probably what had woken him. He shoved himself up from the bed, running a hand through his blonde hair. He smelled like sweat and cooking from that morning.

Deciding his timing was well paced, he took a shower and was wrapping a towel around his hips with 10 minutes of cooking left. With a forced grin to the mirror image of himself, he set about forging a happiness he could play before his friends. The entire bathroom depressed him though, the ghost of his relationship (however brief) with Chloe haunting it.

He froze, hearing the familiar sound of his elevator. He rolled his eyes, it would probably be Dinah, ready to stomp controlling female all over his plans. He had no problem with it, she could take over if she wanted. Then again, she'd probably burn his turkey and let everyone blame it on him. With a grunt of exhaustion he yanked a pair of clean sweatpants from the dresser and shoved his legs into them. He needed to save his food.

But the further down he stepped, the less he was sure of Dinah's intrusion. There was no coffee maker or tv sounds. Maybe it was Lois arriving early. Oh god, that was worse. He took the steps two at a time prepared to shove the walking disaster out of his kitchen before her bad luck infected something. But something caught his eye and he came to a stop again.

There, in front of the elevator were two small luggage bags set neatly on the floor. That ruled out Lois. She could never pack into two bags.

Victor maybe? Had his landlord kicked him out? At least he'd have no problem letting Victor help him deal with the cooking. Oliver stepped curiously into his kitchen, following his approving nose. Empty…

"Hey." Oliver paused, his back to the soft sound. That wasn't Victor… or Lois, or Dinah. "You changed the code." It was sweet, friendly… but nervous. Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned. Instantly he was ready to pinch himself, he'd had the torture of dreaming of her a thousand times over, he didn't need a repeat, especially not when it felt so realistic. But his eyes found a different type of Chloe than his dreams remembered. "I… ummm, I cracked it… sorry." And she looked down, guilty, unknowing if she'd crossed a line. She had left after all.

"Chloe?" he whispered. And then there was her smile, that beautiful smile he'd missed. "You cut your hair." It was the first thing his brain was registering, the first thing that slipped through his mental filter.

Chloe looked at the cut that bounced above her shoulders with a nervous laugh.

"I thought it would be time for a change… to start over." she justified.

There, in his apartment, buried beneath a knee length black coat she stood. Her long hair had been cut to her shoulders, black heeled boots were buckled to meet her coat and all he could think was to note on her hair.

"About before, what I sai-"

"It's okay." she interrupted, worried aboout the way he still hadn't moved. Neither of them had, an entire corridor width spread out between them.

"I didn't think, I ju-"

"No, it was me, I'm wo-"

"It's not your…" Oliver trailed off before they started cutting at each other's words. "We have a bit to talk about I guess." he began again and she nodded.

"You're busy." she highlighted, suddenly feeling out of place like the intruder she was.

"No." It was then his timer decided to go off for the bird. "Well, yes. But not… busy."

"I didn't know if you had plans, I'm sorry, I should have thought, it being Christmas an-"

"Stay." he blurted out as he saw her shift her weight ready to run again. "Please." She smiled, but it didn't touch her eyes half as much as he wanted. "Chloe…" She was here… she'd come back. He crossed the room, meeting her but too scared to touch her… what if it was a dream? An elaborate, highly detailed dream. He could see her slight blush, see the gold shimmer in her eyes like it only did when she was happy, smell the damn fruity lollipops on her breath.

He tested his theory of reality, extending a hand to her rosy cheeks. His warm touch radiated through her body thawing out her frozen heart. Everything came flooding back, from the very first time he touched her, to the very last. The way she'd felt in his arms, the way he'd kissed her, the love she'd split for his two halves. "Chloe." Her name drifted like a prayer from his lips, an awed breath slipping free.

Her heart felt so heavy in her chest, thumping solid beats just for him. The days alone had shown her that her dreams of freedom were nothing to crave. Being alone was only a luxury when you were trapped. But being with Oliver… it was beyond living, it was soaring through clouds. And the way he looked at her, like right now, with warm eyes penetrating right to her soul, it wasn't controlling, it wasn't demanding, it was a comfort she'd missed. His words may have scared her, but his actions proved her fear had no rightful place to stand between their love.

Chloe regretted it taking her this long to realise that.

The elevator suddenly started up and Oliver cursed under his breath. He couldn't catch a damn break.

"Don't go anywhere." he pleaded with his eyes. "It'll probably be Dinah, which… we need to talk about." They needed to talk about Dinah? "You do know all the identities, right?" he checked, walking toward the elevator. Oh, right… about the big secrets.

"Yeah." she simply answered, following him to move her bags.

But what came through the door was not Dinah. It was something arguably worse, and coincidentally, in an argument at the time.

"No. I said Cranberry, who the hell has blueberry sauce? Who the hell even makes blueberry sauce?!" Lois snapped across the line, her superman on the other end, braving the last minute shopping queues. "Ollie, you got the sprouts right?!" Lois's voice echoed down the halls as she stepped from the walled confines and into the apartment. Her eyes immediately landed on the sight before her and she went white as a sheet. Like she'd seen a ghost… or someone who'd been called a ghost half her life. "Chlo?" and Lois threw herself against the petite blonde, pulling her into a much needed and long awaited hug.

"Jesus Lois, give her a second would you?" But Lois's watery eyes snapped to Oliver, telling him she had harsh words for him. "She literally just stepped out of the elevator, I didn't have time to find a phone." he explained, finding himself uncomfortable in the situation. With Chloe, he knew exactly who to be… but with Chloe and Lois… he felt like he'd invaded an extremely private moment. At the sound of Chloe's sniffles as she hugged her cousin back, Oliver decided to attend to the food and give them time alone with each other.

Lois only released Chloe when others started to pour through the doors, each wanting their share of the story of her life. Chloe felt like she'd been pushed in deep water, staying alive by sheer effort and those few seconds of a life raft Oliver kept handing her as he took a question himself, or would walk past, hand outstretched to her. He'd put a movie on when food was cooked, but Chloe still claimed all the attention. Like a shiny new toy, everyone wanted to know the ins and outs of her life. Tess and Emil sat off to one corner together listening in awe, while the others, the more loud-mouthed, fired question after question, wanting to know what it had been like, where she'd gone, what she'd done, how she'd lived.

By the time the end credits rolled to an old Christmas movie nobody had paid attention to, she had barely touched the food on her plate from talking so much and the wine had helped take her feeling of drowning to a level of casual floating. The Justice League (as they called themselves) were as welcoming to her as they'd been to the re-fills to their wine glasses. Tess claimed her to chat Oliver and business, but they never made it past the topic of how Tess knew about Oliver's alter ego. With those minutes of Tess's dominant conversational tone, Chloe managed to get through a good half of her meal. Then, the attention came right back to her. Her plans for now, her reaction to the Luthors deaths, her predictions for the business world. Oliver tried to wrangle them back under control, but there was too much for his skills and Chloe navigated the waters with a skill he couldn't have predicted considering she'd been thrown blind into the middle of the largest gathering they'd had. Bruce sat next to Dinah sharing inside jokes and a whole load of sexual tension. Bart and Victor were playing on games with AC watching behind them.

For Oliver, it was just like a Sunday evening with the boys. But… bigger. And with Christmas presents.

He scanned over the group. Was this his new family now?

Clark and Lois bickering like an old married couple. Dinah and Bruce playing newlyweds choking on sexual chemistry. AC rambling about his first date success and Victor and Bart competing for the highest score like children. Then there was Tess and Emil acting like aunt and uncle, full of advice and complaints everyone listened to, but no-one cared about.

He smiled, his eyes finding Chloe. Where did that put her?

She sat avidly talking to Tess about something he couldn't hear, a smile on her lips.

He wanted her by his side. He wanted her in his pseudo family as much as possible, holding his hand like it was the only way they could survive.

Wife was a title Oliver had never enjoyed, but Chloe seemed to make the idea more and more possible. This was his family now.

He smiled to himself.

Time to bring the family in for some quality time.

"Alright. Enough interrogation. White Christmas is going on, and they'll be no seconds for anyone who talks during it." he announced with a chuckle, starting the film as everyone settled into a relaxed state on the sofas and chairs Lois had scattered around. Places changed and as he took the lounger he found himself with the company of a little blonde pixie. He grinned, pulling her down next to him and comfortably wrapping around her.

The movie began to silence and Oliver admired his family. Happiness swelled in the room. He'd woken presuming it would be one of his worst memories of the holiday, but no… it was easily the best.

Why?

That was all thanks to the blonde devil cuddled up next to him, the wine glass resting against her bottom lip as she watched the screen. His lips softly came down to the crest of her head where he could easily reach. Her eyes found him, questioning the motion, but all he gave was a smile. A true smile.

The film finished and Oliver had never been so thankful, having Chloe wriggling against him for an entire film had done nothing for his happiness. It was bad enough she'd chosen to wear a slinky black dress under her coat that day, but now, with her against him his mind was drifting back to the first time they'd watched a movie together… the first time she'd truly let him see all of her, scars and all. Needless to say, his mind was not on a white Christmas. Did she realise how alluring she was?

"Hate to say this, but we should probably get back." Clark voiced. "We promised my mom we'd make it in time for social hour."

"Yippee." Lois droned sarcastically, but stood up along with Clark.

"Yeah, now that you mention it… we have… other things we need to do too." Dinah inputted, her eyes on Bruce, who was drowning in sexual tension.

Oliver rolled his eyes but laughed, extracting himself from Chloe's cuddle and bidding farewell to his guests.

It took another half hour for everyone to get in their goodbyes and well wishes, another 10 minutes for each to give Chloe a hug and 'quick' goodbye. Then, they were finally alone, standing by the elevator as they waved goodbye to Bart and Emil, the last two to leave.

Oliver turned slowly to her, eager to pick up where they left off, but Chloe was biting at her damn lip, doing nothing to aid his feelings. Not when she looked so damn sexy.

"Can we talk?" she voiced and he found himself nodding, following her out and onto his balcony. With so many bodies in the room, the doors had to be opened before they all roasted to death. Snow still covered the ground of Metropolis, but nothing fresh had fallen since the start of the day before. With the sun shining, the air outside was a refreshing cool rather than a freezing shiver of a temperature. Chloe stepped from the mess into the clean balcony, feeling her head clear from its alcohol haze.

Oliver's fingers linked with hers as he stepped behind her, holding her in a hug.

The days she'd spent alone, she'd craved his presence like this. Through dreams she'd thought of him holding her, kissing her, making her scream his name. He haunted her daylight mind like a bad hangover. But nothing of her thoughts was bad. Her mind painted him as perfection, even his stupid dating rules, the way he'd strived to make her feel as she did. She wanted Oliver. She wanted him to burst through the doors, to have hunted her down and demanded she return to his bed and embrace. And that was when the difference between Oliver and Lex clarified. Even in her darkest hours, starved and alone in a city she couldn't name, she'd never once wished for Lex's embrace. Her heart may have never wanted Lex, but her head knew she'd be dead without him. For Oliver though, it was the extreme opposite, her head warned her against his possessive nature and claim in his words, but her heart slammed that door and beat only with the wish she return to him. She guessed that was how she knew she loved him, how she could trust him, how she could have a future with him.

"With Lionel," she began, feeling more solidified in her answer after repeating so much of it with his friends. "And then with Lex. It was hard to say no. Especially since I knew the consequences. They'd push their commands and I'd have no choice but to follow." She took a deep breath steadying herself and she felt Oliver's arms tighten around her helping her take the first steps. "With Lex… I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was helping so I shut myself off to his methods, instead focussing on the end result."

"You did what you had to." he whispered over her shoulder. Her eyes remained on the building opposite.

"I thought you were my white knight, that you'd be the polar opposite of Lex." she admitted, knowing her words didn't come without a backhanded insult of the truth. He wasn't opposing Lex on all fronts. Like most men, he shared some traits with a monster. "The words… the way you spoke… it just hit me with all the memories of the time Luthors had said them."

"I wasn't thinking clearly." Oliver explained. "I didn't want you to see me in pain, weak. I took RL."

Chloe stood silent, she hadn't considered that option, but things were making sense as the information flooded into her memories. "I was angry at Lex for what he did. Angry at the idea of losing you." His hold tightened, fearing he would lose her again. "I wasn't thinking."

"But you meant the words." she added for him. "I just wasn't ready to hear them." Her honesty hurt him. He'd rushed her, he'd hurt her, the very thing he'd so desperately wanted to avoid doing.

"Where does that leave us?" he dared to ask.

"I don't know." she admitted. "We could try again. Slowly." Oliver released a held breath and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, her head easily angling for more. But he had his own promises to make first.

"Slow." he swore. "We can do slow."

"No more RL adventures?" she proposed with a smile, turning in his arms.

"No more RL. And no more Luthor, that's all over now." His fingers brushed back the newly styled hair from her eyes, but the lift to her lips he'd expected didn't happen, she looked across at him with an emotion he couldn't fathom.

"Not exactly… There's something else." And Chloe slipped free, leaving his embrace empty and walking out from the balcony and through to her bags. Her eyes found the mess in the room as she walked through, her peripheral hitting the kitchen covered with pots, she made a note to start tidying as Oliver digested the news she was about to land on him. She heard his footfalls follow her, pausing as she dug in the bag for the document wallet.

"What do you mean?" His voice was soft, caring.

"This." And she put the file into his hands, encouraging him to sit. He did, his eyes locked on the words he read.

"Lionel's will?" But Chloe let him answer his rhetoric as he turned the page. "Wow…" Chloe assumed his eyes had found the 18 signatures. She turned, addressing the scattered mess throughout the living room. Bottles, glasses, napkins, dirty plates… Oliver didn't do mess by halves. She first went to the glasses by the side of the furniture, lifting them into her hands like a skilled waitress would. The clink of glass to glass rose Oliver's eyes. "Don't, I'll get a cleaner in tomorrow." he chastised, hating to see her in a demeaning position.

"It's Boxing Day, I'm sure they'd prefer to be with their families. Besides… I need something to do while you… digest." she answered and ignored his second instruction to stop as she took the glasses into the kitchen and started running the warm water into a bowl.

She was back for the third load of kitchenware when his eyes lifted, as huge as the plates in her arms.

"Are you serious?!" he spluttered out, his eyes dashing between the words and her shy smile. "This is… this is a lot…"

"I know." she replied simply, no interested in the amazement he felt. Chloe wanted nothing to do with the Luthors. She wouldn't have used any of Lionel's blood money if she'd had any of her own. Chloe took herself back to the kitchen.

"What are you going to do with all of this?" She heard his voice carry from the living room.

"I don't want it." Oliver heard the disinterest in her voice and knew she was being honest. He took the papers with him to the kitchen, watching displeased as she continued to defy him and clean up.

"None of it?"

Chloe passed a glance over her shoulder, but returned back to the task.

"I guess I'll take the money… I don't have anything at all otherwise. But, everything else… I don't want anything to do with it." At his silence she took acceptance and turned back to him slightly, her hands still covered in soap suds. "I was hoping you could help."

"Help?" he questioned. "You've got half of Metropolis in this Will and you don't want any of it?" He was having a hard time believing. He understood her reasons, she didn't want the reminders, but… it was a big decision, a lot of money involved… a lot of businesses she was willing to drop from her hands.

"What would you do?" she asked instead of letting her anger take over like it wanted. Being with Oliver now was too important for a fight to separate them.

"Personally? I'd probably sell a few of the estates… nobody needs that many. Maybe convert the Luthor manor in Smallville into something else I'd want to keep." It was a good property, spacious and isolated. Would make a nice country club. "The businesses I'd visit independently, decided what I wanted to do with each after visiting. With the shares… I could probably redesign the Luthorcorp empire and meld it with my own."

"Then do it." She smiled. "I'll happily transfer the entire will over to you right now."

"Chloe… this is…"

"I don't want it." she repeated. "Any of it."

"You earned all of this though." he fought. "You spent years working for the Luthors… this is your payoff."

"No, it's a haunting I don't want or need." she snapped, then took a breath to calm herself again. It wasn't Oliver's fault. She wasn't going to get angry with Ollie over this. "Sorry… I just don't want it on my hands at all." she whispered across the room. "It's all yours." she finished, turning back to the washing up.

Oliver set the papers down on the side-table, away from the cranberry sauce splatter. Chloe felt his hands over shoulders and she instantly relaxed against them, feeling all her emotions push against her again. He smoothed down her arms and into the warm water, linking their fingers and lifting her hands from the water and over to the handtowel.

"They'll wait." he explained, drying her hands with care and guiding her away from the collective mess she'd organised. "If you want me to deal with this for you, I will. But I think you might want to see some of these businesses yourself. Not all of them are as crooked as the Luthors. And… maybe you want to make your mark, turn something Luthor tainted into a Sullivan beauty." He breathed a laugh against her neck and steered her to the nearest chair, gently sweeping her down on top of him as he sat. "Now, we still have a conversation to finish." he reminded her and she smiled, the sparkle touching her eyes. "You're staying?"

"In Metropolis? Yes." She adjusted herself into a comfier position, her legs slung over his, her arm around his shoulders.

"In this relationship?" he added and she nodded sweetly, if not shyly. "In my apartment?"

"I can find one in t-"

"Let me re-phrase; in my apartment." he repeated. "It wasn't a question." She pulled a face, took a few seconds, but nodded.

"Just until I find somewhere to live." Oliver didn't say anything to the contrary, but he'd ensure she didn't find anywhere else to live. "I can finally get a job." she whispered in awe, mainly to herself.

"Actually, I was hoping you'd take one I already had lined up for you." Oliver turned to her, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw, the fullness of her lips.

"Really? You already had a job lined up for me?" she joked, but his straight expression showed no joke or sexual innuendo. "What kind of job?"

"Personal assistant." he answered, "It seems I've recently acquired some new property and businesses which will keep me very busy." He grinned to her, that cocky know-it-all grin when he was thinking on his feet. "I'll need someone to keep schedule and make sure I make all my appointments." His fingers curled under her chin drawing her closer inch by aching inch. "Not to mention Green Arrow needs someone to run watchtower while the team is out. Be our eye in the sky… our guidance and operations manager." Victor would be most pleased by this, he'd finally get to play out of the computer labs.

"But, with Lex gone… surely you can hang up your tights." Her mock earned her a chuckle that vibrated through his chest and thus, due to proximity, hers too.

"They'll always be crime as long as there are people." he muttered sombrely. "We'll always have work."

"Then I'll always be there to guide you." She smiled, drawing her lips closer to him like she'd wanted to since they'd first seen each other. "Guide you to the bedroom perhaps." she whispered to him, her breath tickling his sensitive lips.

He rose an eyebrow, a chuckle slipping free in a breath.

"What happened to taking it slow?"

"I said slow, not snail's pace." She grinned and pressed her lips to his, straddling across his hips and deepening the kiss.

His lips parted and their passion flamed.

She was finally in his arms.

Finally.

2 Years Later;

"It's beautiful." she spoke, a whisper in the darkness. Oliver looked up from the papers littering his desk. "So quiet and peaceful." she continued, mainly to herself as she stood in his office staring out the large glass window, her hand on her flat stomach.

14 weeks the doctor told them.

14 weeks of a life had grown inside her so far and she was barely showing. It didn't stop her from stroking her stomach though. She said she found it soothing, like she was doing now. Oliver leant back on his chair, smiling to himself as she absently stroked down her top. Pregnant.

She'd fought him all the way but she'd even got his ring wrapped around her finger, even walked down the aisle to him. She still craved her own time now and again, but she always came right back to him. And now she was carrying his child. "The way you can see the lights." Her voice mesmerised him, the way she would get lost in his view of the city. "The way they touch to meet with the stars above. The little twinkles of yellow, gold and blue." And she turned to him, a twinkle in her own eyes, a smile on her lips. Before he could return it, the street lights and stars claimed her attention again. "I feel on top of the world!" she exclaimed with a grin, a breath of happiness flooding into the room.

The paperwork could wait. He was working through the business plans for the buildings that he'd claimed from Luthorcorp, working on the new offices he had designed and approved after a long battle. Under them sat the building plans for the changes to the Sullivan Mansion. The old Luthor mansion was renamed and converted into a home for meteor infected individuals to live and learn to control their powers. The repair bills were not as bad as expected, a few powered individuals able to mould stone and bricks were a great help, but neither of them could have predicted the spread of the news and the popularity. They needed more rooms to cope with the influx of occupants.

Oliver stood, crossing the room and wrapping his arms around his wife, his fingers twisting with hers over her belly. He'd had that view for years on end, but never seen what she did. Not until she came along and injected her words into his mind. She was right, it was beautiful.

"It's amazing." she repeated on a feint murmur, relaxing into him. His lips brushed her neck.

"Tomorrow. You don't have to."

She laughed against him softly.

"Don't be silly. I'm barely doing anything." As predicted, some other Luthor enthusiast with views of supremacy and discrimination had taken up research and murder of meteor freaks. She had relieved Victor of his duties, letting him free to the field while she operated the base camp from watchtower. Oliver didn't quite understand pregnancy only disabled you when you couldn't reach the keyboard or steering wheel, he was over protective at the very least.

"I'd rather you just stay in bed, with your feet up."

"My feet up huh?" she grinned. "Up over your shoulders perhaps?" she teased. Marriage hadn't done anything to dull their fire, even pregnant he craved her nightly, and she hadn't the lack of desire to ever deny him.

"Your insatiable." he playfully cursed with a smile, dropping another light kiss to her neck.

"Don't be long." She turned in his arms, pressing her lips to his like she always did, just injecting that little hint of tease, the premeditation of what came next. It was her nightly kiss in his office, a kiss that summoned him to scrap his work and follow her up the stairs instantly. He felt his cock harden at the memory of the night before. She truly was insatiable.

She left his arms and he missed her the second she stepped away. She shot her bedroom eyes over her shoulder and like always; work was forgotten.

"Minx." he called, chasing her down and sweeping her into his arms, gently pressing her against the wall. "Say it." he implored, kisses down her neck.

"I love you." she answered his call, the same way she always did in his arms. His eyes snapped up, as wondered by the words as he was every time.

"I love you." he replied, the same life in the promise as there always was. His lips sealed over hers, taking her into his arms, rising her lust and starting the nightly routine.

Who are you? A simple enough question. And for once, Chloe had an answer. She was the teasing minx driving her man crazy with lust; she was the doting housewife addicted to coffee; she was on the arm of a billionaire charming all his contacts; she was the watchtower keeping her boys safe while they protected her city; she was the timid teenager who finally blossomed into loving; she was the broken heart that finally found her repair.

Who was she?

She was a woman of 5ft 3inches, golden blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes and married with the name Chloe Queen.

The End

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

It's been a long ride, longer than even I expected, and you guys have been fantastic.
I'd love to hear your thoughts on the finished work, but most of all I'd love to say thank you.

Much love, I hope to see you again soon,
A.A.
Xx