New story!! I've been fascinated by the possibilities in the Chlollie pairing for a while now and after last week's episode, it was just confirmed. This unites several ideas I've been toying with for a while, so I hope you like it, and don't forget to review!

Title: Color of Blood

Pairings: Clois, Chlollie

Spoilers: Up until Rabid. I'm still not sure If I will incorporate all the elements of the current season, so just go with the flow!

Summary: Alcohol and sex are usually a bad combination, so what happens when RedK is added to the mix? A new brand of Tequila changes the status of our characters in good ways and bad.

Rating: M for drug and alcohol abuse, violence and sex.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, don't sue

*If anyone would like to Beta this story for me, please PM me. I really need one!!

Chapter 1

Chloe's eyes felt like they had been glued shut with cement and for the life of her couldn't remember why she wanted to open them in the first place, slumber was so much nicer.


Oh, there it was. The sound resonated in her head, giving her an instant headache. She reached for the alarm besides her bed to turn it off, but her hand flailed as it went through the air and hit the floor she was laying on.


"What theā€¦? She forced her eyes open and they slowly came to focus. The first thing she realized was that she was not in her bedroom. She looked down as she sat down, obtaining visual confirmation that she was indeed on the floor. She felt something slide off her and looked down at herself. She shook her head, she must be dreaming. How else can the fact that she was on the floor, naked, be explained? She reached for the fabric that had slid off and covered herself, her hand catching its collar. Collar? She looked down; a white, silk shirt lay firmly between her hand and her breasts.

"What in the world?" Suddenly she was afraid of looking around, what had happened last night? She took a deep breath and turned. She blinked furiously at the sun that came in through the stained-glass window. Momentarily blinded she felt around the floor with her hands. Rather quickly her curious fingers grazed skin. She scooted back immediately and forced her eyes to focus. There lying next to her, bathed in the morning sun, lay a very sculpted, very male back.

"Oh shit, shit." She tried to get up as quickly as possible, but her balanced was seriously altered. "What the hell happened?!" she let out a frustrated sigh as she tried to grab something to hold her. She managed to grab a hold of the stair rail before tipping something over with her foot. She looked down as red liquid spilled to the floor from the over-turned plastic cup. She picked up the cup and smelled it. The strong smell of tequila attacked her sensitive nostrils, and nausea hit her like a ton of bricks. She dropped the cup and covered her mouth with her hand. She made a beeline to the bathroom.

She barely made it, and after a couple minutes she found herself sitting on the floor, hugging her toilet. When the smell of her own vomit didn't make her throw up she knew she had gotten it all out of her. She flushed and slowly got up. Her reflection was scary to say the least. Her hair was matted and stuck to her face, dark eyes surrounded her eyes. She washed her face and her mouth, feeling only somewhat refreshed, she wanted to jump in the shower, but there was still the mystery man to take care of.

She dressed; thankful for the spare change she kept, and tried to remember, but her mind drew a blank. The last thing she fully remembered was being at Watchtower alone, checking on the League's status. Her mind started clearing and she remembered something else.

"Oh no." Dread filled her as she rushed to the control center. There, in the middle of her loft stood a half naked man. The rays that filtered through her window played with each curve and crevice of his muscular physique. His blond hair looked golden in the light. He turned at the sound of her footsteps.

"Chloe?" Oliver Queen seemed as distraught and confused as she.

She stood speechless before him, watching him silently as he scoured the floor for his clothing. He found his pants halfway up the stairs, his socks were hanging on the railing, right next to her underwear.

She observed and the scattered pieces of clothing started painting a picture for her. She became an objective outsider, taking in the evidence and recreating the scene. Her stomach turned over again, for one brief second her eyes made contact with his. His tortured look confirmed her suspicion. She ran for the bathroom one more time.

Now she was sure there was nothing left in her stomach. She got up and washed her mouth, again. She eyed his shirt on the bathroom floor, anger slowly taking the place of the nausea. She picked it up and walked back, only to find Oliver about to open her front door.

"Oh no you don't. What the hell happened last night?" She demanded as she threw his shirt at him.

He caught it before it hit his face. "Well, isn't obvious, sidekick? Looks like sex to me," he waved his hand across the room, motioning to the pieces of clothing still scattered on the floor. "but I don't know, I'm not the one playing Big Brother here, what's your expert opinion?"

She walked purposely towards him; then stopped on foot from his face. Her hand shot and hit him across the face.

He smirked as he returned his face to face her. "Now that I know. The puking back there? Wasn't used to that, this, this I know how to handle. Good-bye." He placed his hand on the handle of the door once more.

Chloe took a deep breath and swallowed, hard.

"No, I need to know. I don't remember anything Oliver, did you give me something?" Fear mixed with anger in her eyes, she tried to control it, but there was no way around it. "Have you stooped so low as to drug me?"

"Don't flatter yourself," he bit his tongue as he realized how calloused he sounded. He took a deep breath and continued, the shock still on her face. "I don't remember anything either. Last thing I remember I was heading this way after I found your little spyware all over my stuff. My belt buckle, my phone, my shoes. Really, my shoes?" He took a step forward, all the anger from last night resurfacing. She took a step back, his face only inches away from hers.

She straightened her shoulders and ignored his tirade.

"Last thing I remember is you barging in here, drunk to the hilt, bottle in hand." She stared back. "You can chew me out later, but we need to figure this out. You might be used to getting so drunk you forget, but that's not like me, so something's up. " She motioned for the empty cup on the floor. "That's tequila, but its red; and where's the bottle?"

"Don't you have surveillance here?, or has all my money gone on lo-jacking me?" He raised his lip in a sneer. "It's not that complicated, we got drunk and had sex, we'll eventually remember. You don't need me here, and I sure as hell don't want to be here for another second. I have to clean out my wardrobe, this ends here, do you hear me?"

"I did what was necessary, and I don't regret it. Everyone else fell quickly back into the fold, they just need you." She turned her back to him and walked towards the central computer.

"So I wasn't the only one in the Big Brother house?" He ran his hand through his hair in frustration and disbelief.

"No, but you were the only one who bitched about it." She raised her eyebrow in contempt, then sat in front of the screen. She reached for the keyboard, still looking at him. Her hand touched soft fabric, she winced and closed her eyes when she recognized the lacy feel. She looked down, her white bra lay on top of the keyboard. She took a deep breath and took the offending garment, stuffing it in her pocket. She could feel his gaze on her and before he could say anything she rose her hand, not daring to look at him. "Don't say a word, and for the last time, put your shirt on."

Oliver looked down at the shirt in his hands. It was wrinkled and dirty, upon closer inspection he could see makeup and lipstick stains all over it. He shook his head in disbelief, had he really had sex with Chloe. Well, that wasn't too hard to believe, lately he had been bedding anything that had breasts. He looked up at her while he put the shirt on. No, what was hard to believe was that she would have had sex with him. He had wanted to leave the second he realized where he was, now curiosity took root.

In a couple long steps he was behind her, looking at the screen with her. She clicked and typed, bringing a player to life. He smirked and felt compelled to say something about the fact that they were about to see what had happened last night, it wouldn't be right. Hell, he hadn't exactly been Mr. right lately anyway, so who cared?

"Should I get popcorn? Or do you like to watch your porn alone?" He was a cad, he knew it.

"Really? Popcorn? Have you fallen so low you can't get a real, or sober girl to sleep with you? I guess even money can't hide mediocrity, can it?" She knew she was hitting below the belt, but he was being such a jerk and the whole situation had her feeling angry and mean.

She hovered the mouse over the play button, a sense of defeat coming over her. It was evident that she had slept with Oliver Queen last night. The room, her now aching body, was telling enough. Did she really need visual confirmation? Yes, she needed to know what would make her so irresponsible and go as far with him as it was obvious she did.

A chair being pulled up behind her shook her out of her thoughts. She looked back in a knee-jerk reaction, forgetting she didn't want to look at him. But she did turn and did see his face, his eyes were distant, lost. The set of his shoulders screamed 'back off', he reminded her of a wounded dog that would bite anyone who tried to help. She grunted, she sure had been biten. His gaze found hers then and she quickly turned back.

She pressed play and watched.

She saw herself organizing her desk, getting ready to leave. She looked up as something off screen caught her attention, she visibly tensed.

"What are you doing here? Are you drunk?" Oliver's form appeared then, he was disheveled and had a bottle in his hand.

"You are going to pay. How could you do this to me? I'm not your puppet, Chloe Sullivan." The anger was evident in his voice, he kept advancing until only the desk separated them. He leaned in then. "Did you see anything you liked? I must have given you some mighty good entertainment." A slight slurred escaped him.

"Look, let me take you home, okay?" She walked around the desk and approached him slowly. "We can talk about this when your sober."

He pulled back violently. "No, you do not control me." He took another sip and he looked her up and down while he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "You really are a pretty one, not as hot as your cousin, but sure pretty."

Even in the video the hurt on her face was evident. She reached for her phone and texted. When she looked back up he was gone.

"Oliver? What are you doing?" He came back with two cups in his hands. He placed them on the desk and poured, only spilling a little.

"Drink with me, I want to celebrate to your success. You have managed to do what no woman has even done before. Keep track of me." He lifted the bottle and laughed at his reflection on it. "Look, it's red!"

"If I take a drink, will you let me take you home?" He didn't respond, just gestured with his head to the cups. He put the bottle down and picked on up.

She reached for her phone again, pressed a couple of buttons and grabbed the cup.

"Fine." She took a quick sip. She placed the cup back on the desk and stumbled. "Hmm, that's pretty strong." She chuckled.

Chloe froze the image.

"What the hell? I can hold my liquor better than that" She expected some smart remark from the man sitting behind her, but none came. He was staring intently at the frozen image.

"Can you rewind to where I come in?"

She did as was asked and played it.

"There, freeze that. Can you zoom in on the bottle?" She frowned, not knowing where this was going, but did it anyway. The bottle came up, big and clear on the screen. It was practically full.

"I couldn't have drunk more that you did, and I remember being almost sober when I got here."

"So you took a drink and suddenly you're drunk and don't remember anything?" She swiveled her chair to face him. "What kind of Tequila was it?"

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face against his hands.

"I got it yesterday. A sample was sent to a select few. It's marketed to get you drunk, but without the sense dullness. It's supposed to make you feel everything stronger or something like that." His voice was filled with regret.

The small blonde in front of him didn't say a word. She no longer felt the need to keep watching. She had the equipment there to analyze what was left of the liquor. If it was this strong, it should be kept off the shelves.

Just then the pieces locked together in her brain, forming an ugly and scary picture.

"Oliver, I contacted Clark, that's who I was texting. I wanted him to help me get you home." Her face suddenly drained of all color.

"Wait, so he didn't show up, that's not like him?" He wondered, still not understanding.

"Don't you get it? He did show up, and that only means one thing. This little drink of yours has red Kryptonite!" Her eyes were wide.

"You can't be sure of that, maybe when he saw us doing it, he left." Even he knew that's not what he would have done, but the other option was too frightening. Clark on red kryptonite was dangerous to say the least.

"There's only one way to find out." She turned back to the computer and fast forwarded the video. They saw themselves fight and hit each in fast motion. They were kissing when Clark arrived, in full Blur get up. He approached them and pulled Oliver away from her. She pressed play then.

They watched as Chloe grabbed her cup and threw what was left of the Tequila at his face.

"Leave him alone, you big oaf!" She started laughing hysterically then.

Clark dropped Oliver then, licking his lips.

"He likes it." Oliver had joined her on the floor, both laughing.

The two figures in front of the TV watched in horror as Clark grabbed the bottle from the desk and took a big gulp. His eyes turned towards the camera then. She froze the image and zoomed in.

Red rimmed eyes stared back at them, an evil smile graced his face.

They looked at each other, not knowing how to react, after a couple of seconds they sprang into action.

They needed to find him and fast.