Disclaimer: all characters belong to CW/DC Comics
Word Count: 494
Spoilers/Warnings: 10.02 'Shield'/none
Summary: The story behind the photograph Oliver found of Chloe.
Author's Notes: For my theechochorus table, prompt: photograph(s)
“Why don’t you have any pictures?”
Oliver blinked and stared at Chloe. “What?”
“Pictures,” Chloe repeated. “You don’t have any.” She gestured around the bedroom. “This place is so impersonal.”
Relaxing into the bed, Oliver just shrugged. “Never felt the need to take any, I guess.” The underlying ‘never had anyone important enough to take pictures of and keep them around’ went unsaid but Chloe got the message.
“What about Lois? Or Tess?” Chloe was one persistent woman, especially after she latched on to a topic.
“I’m sure I had pictures of them at some point,” Oliver remarked, frowning. “But I’m not going to leave them up. Especially of Lois. I think Clark would take issue with that. I probably would lose that battle.”
Chloe smirked. “There’s no probably about it.”
“Thanks for the support,” he said sarcastically. “Way to spare my feelings, Watchtower.”
“You’re hardly a delicate doll, Ollie,” Chloe pointed out, amused. “Stop trying to change the subject.”
Oliver sighed, but right when he was about to respond, an idea formed in his mind. Standing up suddenly, he put on his boxers and went on a search.
“What are you doing?” Chloe called, but he just ignored her. Finding what he was looking for, he returned.
“Oliver,” Chloe asked, “What are you doing with that?”
Grinning mischievously, he said, “You did say I didn’t have any pictures … now I’m taking one. Smile.”
“Of me?” Chloe said. She hid underneath the sheets. “I don’t think so.”
“Come on, Chloe,” Oliver argued. “You say I should have pictures but you refuse to let me take one of you.”
“I’m not even dressed!” Chloe declared.
Leering, he said, “I don’t see the problem with that.” She blushed and glared at him.
“I don’t like being in pictures,” was her next excuse.
“Why not?” Oliver questioned. Chloe didn’t reply, just bit her lip, green eyes wide. Whatever her expression was concealing was revealed in those eyes. Not for the first time, Oliver was hit with the realization that no matter how knowledgeable and confident Chloe came off as, there was a side of her that had formed long before he had met her, and occasionally still showed up.
Fiddling with the camera in his hands, he smiled warmly. “There isn’t a person that I would like a picture of more than you.” Then with an expression that Oliver would swear later wasn’t pouting, he asked, “Please?”
Chloe softened. “All right … I guess. One picture and this goes out to no one.”
“Just you and me,” he promised.
Nodding, Chloe shifted forward, leaning against the bed, making sure she was mostly covered by the thick, white comforter. She looks like an angel. Forcing himself to focus, he took the picture.
If he looked back, Oliver realized that was the moment when he fell in love with Chloe Sullivan. Little did he know that one day, the picture was all he would have left of her.