This baby is a response to the Drabble Challenge posted up on the Chlollie LJ community by smallvillefics. It turned out longer than I had thought, but this was fun! Also, this is my very first Oliver/Chloe fic and my second drabble ever! I'm hoping to get another oneshot done this week that's post "Checkmate," but first comes a midterm hanging over me like an ominous cloud... If any of my FFVII readers are lurking around here, never fear, I won't abandon any of my stories. I just need to get these plot bunnies out there so that they can let me concentrate on other things. :) Anyway, please enjoy.


He had been waiting for her for the past hour, wondering what the hold up was when she stormed into Watchtower, clothes damp, hair plastered to her face, and with an expression that would've instilled fear on all of the villains they'd encountered so far.

"Honey, you're home," he joked. "I was beginning to worry." Oliver took back his words from a while ago; now ithere/i was a gaze that could wilt small trees. "Bad day?"

"More like bad weather," Chloe muttered, pulling off her rain soaked jacket with rough jerks. "My car blew a tire and though I wouldn't have minded the work, it's pouring outside. I'm surprised that we're not wading through the water. Spring showers have never been quite this ridiculous."

Oliver watched on in amusement as she continued to rant, even as she pulled out a towel to rub at her hair. She looked like a wet cat, complete with the angry expression and he was sure that if he made a comment on it, she'd just claw his eyes out or something to that effect. He also happened to be highly aware of the fact that her top was plastered to her upper body, outlining the curves and slopes…

Ogling her wasn't the pressing matter though, and the last thing he wanted was for her to catch a cold because he'd been too busy fantasizing about her. Pulling at the buttons of the extra shirt he was wearing, he approached her. "How about I get you out of those clothes?"

Chloe raised an eyebrow at him, but a mischievous glint entered her eyes at his words.

Oliver flushed. How was it that she could manage to make him feel embarrassed with just one look? "I meant to say that I don't want you to get sick for staying in those clothes for too long." He showed her the shirt in his hand and hung his head. "Bart, AC, and Victor will be here soon, so there's not much I can do in that time. Just take off your top and put this one on."

Her mood lifted at his actions, but she wouldn't put it past him to blatantly watch her as she changed. Shrugging inwardly to herself, Chloe unbuttoned her own top and peeled off the material, noting the way his jaw tensed and he looked away. She couldn't help the way her heartbeat quickened when he shifted and his eyes darted to the green lace bra she'd chosen to wear. Slipping on his warm, oversized shirt, she gave him a knowing look as he stared at her fingers when she began to button up.

The material fell down to mid-thigh, and his scent lingered on, spicy and male. Ignoring the way he was looking at her, she took off her soaked boots and socks, and walked off to a hidden spot where she pulled out a pair of jeans and socks she'd left close by in case of emergency. Facing away from him, she stripped, redressed and continued to dry her hair. When she turned, she nearly smashed her nose right into his chest. "Ollie!" she exclaimed; she hadn't even heard him move.

"You know," he started in a deep voice that made things down south tighten. "Seeing you in my shirt is just as bad as seeing you in nothing but that green bra."

Chloe rolled her eyes but couldn't contain the smug smile on her face. "I thought you said the guys would be over any minute."

"Yeah," he muttered, brown eyes narrowed as she brushed past him and towards her computers. "Any minute."

"Then stop looking at me like that," she said, smiling pleasantly.

Before she could move completely out of his grasp, he reached for her elbow and pulled her back into his chest, hands shifting to her hips. "You didn't even ask me how imy/i day went," Oliver said, pouting for effect.

Chloe slid her hands up to wrap around his neck. "Pouting doesn't suit you, Ollie. Maybe if I didn't know you so well you'd be able to convince me with that face of yours."

"I guess it's good that my pout wasn't as effective as I would've wished."

"And why is that?"

"Because," he started, lips skimming over her neck and down her cheek until they brushed against hers with his next words. "If it ihad/i worked, I would've had you on your desk and wearing nothing but my shirt by now."

Chloe had to force herself to not shudder in anticipation. Even when he said that now, she knew it was a promise for what was to come once they were alone. That little fact made it impossible to concentrate sometimes. Despite that, she couldn't resist pulling his head down further, sealing their lips together. She sighed, the last of her bad mood drifting away at his familiar kiss. Letting out a long breath, she smiled when he pulled back and pressed his forehead to hers.

"You taste like rain," he said quietly, rubbing their noses together, holding her close so that her body could begin to warm up.

Chloe smiled and brushed her fingers through his soft hair. "Oh? And what does rain taste like?"

"Sweet… fresh… you…" he replied, smiling when her eyes crinkled at the corners. She made everything better whenever she was around. In that moment, there was nothing but Chloe and the feel of her in his arms while they listened to the patter of the spring shower against stained glass. "As much as I like it, remember to carry an umbrella with you next time so that you don't look like something the cat dragged in."

He dodged the hand she sent at his head and instead swooped in to get a better taste of her lips. In that moment, he really wouldn't have minded if any of the guys walked in on them.