Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Oliver Queen has returned to Starling City. The local billionaire and presumed heir to Fortune 500 Company Queen Consolidated shocked everyone five years ago by enlisting in the U.S. Army. Queen was a regular in the tabloids and a fixture of the local club scene. No one knows where this change of heart came from but we are glad Mr. Queen finished his tour and has come home in one piece. We’re sure his family feels the same.”

The town car pulls up in front of Queen Manor and Oliver lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. After five years overseas he is finally coming home. The original plan had been a two-year tour with the Army in Afghanistan. His unit, however, had been assigned a special operation halfway through his third year and Oliver had elected to stay with them. Until now.

“Here we are, Mr. Queen. Do you need help with your belongings?”

“No, I’ve got it. Thanks.” Oliver exits the car and grabs the few things he’s brought back with him, a duffle bag and a small metal safe box. He walks towards the doors and they ease open when he pushes on them.

“Hello?” Oliver calls out and hears a rushing of feet from upstairs.

“Ollie!” A whirlwind of brown hair and long limbs rushes down the stairs and throws itself at him. He quickly drops his belongings to the ground in order to return the embrace. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“Me too, Speedy. More than you know.” His little, well not so little anymore, sister was one of the people Oliver missed the most. Being back here, having her in his arms, it’s almost surreal.

“Ugh, I told you to stop calling me that like twenty letters ago.”

“Then you should know by now I’m not going to stop.” He grins before really taking the rest of her in. She’s changed so much these past five years. The pictures don’t do her justice. “When did you grow up on me?”

“Oh don’t you start, too. I already get enough of that from Tommy.”

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” The voice chimes from the still open doors.

“Tommy Merlyn.” Oliver envelops his best friend in a hug, patting him on the back. Until five years ago the two were inseparable. Where either one of them went the other wasn’t too far behind.

“Man is it good to see you. By the way, how many numbers did you get in the airport wearing that? Ladies go crazy for a man in uniform.” Oliver reaches into his pocket and pulls out a napkin with a number written on it followed by a bright red kiss print.

“I might have to borrow that some time.”

“Lending out the uniform in order to get your best friend laid is generally frowned upon.”

“Oliver.” Oliver turns to see Moira Queen walk in through the parlor.

“Hi, mom. You look beautiful.” She wraps her son in a hug and he presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Now come along. Raisa made your favorites for dinner.”

They all head to the dining room and upon entering it looks like they are having dinner for twenty. Robert Queen stands at the head of the table.

“Welcome home, Oliver.”

“Dad.” His hand is extended for Oliver to take and after a brief shake everyone takes his or her seat. Surveying the table he notices the empty seat next to Thea.

“Where’s Felicity?”

“Oh she said she had some super important tech problem at QC that just had to be taken care of tonight.”

Thea rolls her eyes. While she loves and respects her best friend dearly, she can’t help but think the girl needs a hobby that doesn’t involve coding and wiring.

“Right, she’s interning there this summer isn’t she?”

“Yes and she’s quickly out shining the rest of the IT department, including her supervisor. It’s no wonder she’s a year ahead at MIT on full ride.”

The pride in Robert’s voice does not go undetected. He’s always had a soft spot for Felicity. It’s something Thea had mentioned over the course of their written conversations when Oliver was away. Thea would always be Robert’s little princess but Felicity’s intelligence was something he boasted about often.

“Felicity has always been brilliant.” In fact, it was one of the first things Oliver noticed about her when they met all those years ago, when she was only twelve and he twenty-four.

“And she never lets anyone forget it.” The words escape Thea with fondness.

There’s silence for a few minutes as everyone takes their first few bites of dinner before Tommy breaks the silence.

“Alright let’s see what you missed. Superbowl: Giants, Steelers, Saints, Packers, Giants again. Someone let one of the Kardashians have a kid. Oh and Lost, all dead. I think. It was really unclear.”

“Tommy, I was fighting in the war, not stranded on a deserted island.”

“You know you were very vague in those letters on how much media exposure you had there.”

“I appreciate the sentiment.” They exchange a grin, already falling back into their brotherly rhythm.

“Okay, tomorrow you and me, we’re taking a tour around the city a la Tommy’s new sports car, see how many tickets we can rack up and get you reacquainted with the world.”

“Sounds great.”

….

“Get down, kid!” Gunshot rings out and bullets whiz by their faces at alarmingly close distances.

“She’s trapped! We have to get her out of there.” Oliver tries to move but he’s pushed back against the wall.

“You’re right but we need a plan. Charging across open terrain while under attack isn’t going to do us any good. We can’t help her if we’re dead.”

Suddenly there's a loud booming noise and the heat surrounding them flares up tenfold. There’s a bright, flashing light and it consumes them, searing their flesh and causing everything else to fade. It’s all white and it burns.

He can hear her screams mixed with his own.

“Oliver! OLIVER!”

“Oliver! Oliver, wake up!”

His instincts kick in. There’s a hand on his shoulder and he grabs it, flipping his attacker over his shoulder and onto the floor. His legs straddle the person’s waist and his hands close over a slender neck. He squeezes, closing the person’s airways and causing her to gasp for air.

“Oliver...” His brain finally identifies the voice. The next second Oliver is scrambling backwards, far away from a wheezing Moira Queen, who is being assisted by her husband.

“I’m sorry! Mom, I’m so sorry!”

They weren’t supposed to know about the nightmares. At least not yet when he’s so unprepared to talk about it.

“It’s okay. I’m alright.”

But it’s not okay. The way his parents are looking at him right now, it’s like they don’t even recognize him. He can imagine what they see, his hands shaking and eyes wide. He probably looks like a wild animal to them, barely human.

“Oliver, it’s okay, sweetheart.”

But it’s not. They couldn’t save her. She died because they couldn’t save her. Okay isn’t something he ever expects to be again.

….

“I’m throwing you a welcome home bash at the club. I was thinking ‘Murica for the theme. You can even wear your uniform.”

“I’m pretty sure wearing the uniform when drinking breaks about twenty different rules.” He can’t help but laugh at his friend’s joking. God, he missed that. “So tell me more about this club. You wrote about it some but I want details.”

“Verdant? Once I graduated with my business degree I started looking for real estate for the club. Your dad offered to sell me that old Queen-Steele factory in the Glades. It’s only been open for a few months but it’s one of the most popular clubs in Starling. We expect to break even with the development costs within the next year or less.”

“That’s awesome, man. I’m happy it’s going so well. Damn, I wish we had thought about that when my parents cut me off.”

The freezing of Oliver’s trust fund was what instigated his decision to enlist. That seems like a lifetime ago. The Oliver he was then is so different from who he is now.

“So, what’d you miss most? Steaks at the palm? Drinks at the station? Meaningless sex?”

“You know there are women in the Army, Tommy.”

“Oh, hey! Now we’re getting to the good stuff. I’m gonna need a physical description and list of her… talents.”

“I didn’t say there was a girl, just that I wasn’t surrounded by men all day.”

“Uh huh, sure. I’ll get you to talk. But you’re saved for now because we are here.”

The building they pull up to seems out of place in its current setting. Where everything else surrounding it appears dilapidated and unattended, CNRI stands well maintained and clean. Walking in, Oliver and Tommy have to weave their way through cubicles and dodge out of the path of people who are running around holding large stacks of papers and files.

“Ollie!” He smiles at the sound of his best friend’s voice and turns around with open arms.

“Hi, Laurel.” She takes the few steps between them and wraps her arms around his shoulders. “It’s good to see you.”

“I missed you so much.” She slides down and plants a kiss on his jaw before stepping away.

“What, no love for Tommy?”

“I think you got enough this morning, Merlyn.” Laurel rolls her eyes but closes the distance to place a firm kiss on his lips before smiling up at him. “Hi.”

That is going to take some getting used to. When Oliver left, everything between the three of them had been strictly platonic. But over the years it seemed Tommy and Laurel had grown closer. So close, in fact, that they now live together. When Tommy wrote Oliver to inform him that they were dating, Oliver had been happy for his two best friends. He knew Tommy had a long-standing crush on Laurel that went on and off throughout the years and he was glad to see that finally come to fruition.

“That’s better.” Tommy places another peck on her lips before continuing. “You think you’ll get enough work done today to stop by Verdant tonight? Can’t miss your best friend’s coming home party!” 

“Yeah, I just have to pull the final prosecution together for the Adam Hunt case. Asshole somehow switched venues to be tried in front of Judge Grou, whose reelection campaign he funded.”

“Adam Hunt? That’s pretty big. I’m assuming law school went well then?”

Out of everyone who wrote him, besides his parents, Laurel was the least frequent. He knew she had been busy with law school and Tommy would often update him on how she was doing. He didn’t blame her.

“Yes. I’m not saying it wasn’t hell going through it, but I’m happy here. It was worth the struggle.”

“Laurel, we need you to go over the new section of the prosecution.”

“Ah, Joanna, looking beautiful as ever.” The girl in questions smirks at Tommy’s antics.

“You should know by now, Merlyn, that flattery will get you nowhere with me.” She hands a file to Laurel, who reads over the front before letting out a sigh.

“And that’s my cue. I wish I could talk more but this case…”

“Say no more. See you tonight?” Oliver reaches out to pull her into another hug.

“I’ll stop by. It really is so great to see you, Ollie. You look good.”

She gives Tommy a kiss goodbye and walks off with Joanna, already discussing the case at a rapid-fire speed only a lawyer can posses.

“Is she normally this busy?”

“You should have seen her when she was still in school. And when the boards came around? Forget it. I think I was having less sex than when I was single.”

“That’s not really saying much.”

“No, I suppose it’s not.”

They climb into the car and Tommy speeds back to the mansion.

It’s a shame; they don’t pick up a single speeding ticket on the way.

….

Oliver can feel the bass vibrating throughout his entire body. Multicolored lights strobe and flash about, momentarily blinding him. People are shouting and laughing, colorful drinks in hand. He can see girls wearing barely-there outfits of camo and red, white, and blue dancing on top of the bar and on platforms. A huge American flag covers the wall behind the DJ. He and Tommy never really were ones to do a party halfway.

Speaking of, Oliver spots his best friend toasting amongst a group of people. He catches his eye and nods in greeting. Tommy signals the DJ to cut the music as he walks over to Oliver, grabbing two shot glasses off of a passing tray.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the man of the hour!” Tommy hands one of the glasses to Oliver and clinks in salute before they both down the clear liquid. Cheers rise up from the partygoers and people raise their glasses. “Now ladies, please, give our brave hero a proper homecoming!” More shouts ring out and Oliver raises a hand in greeting before walking with Tommy to the bar.

“Okay, by my estimate you haven’t had sex in 1,839 days. Unless there’s something you want to tell me.” He gives Tommy a blank look. “Right, so as your wingman might I suggest the fiery hot redhead in the sinfully tight dress?”

“What would Laurel think if she heard this?”

“Hey, this is for you, not me. None of them hold up to Laurel in my eyes.”

“Merlyn, I do believe you are thoroughly whipped.” Tommy looks as if he’s going to protest but only gives him a self-deprecating smile.

“What can I say, man? She’s incredible.” Oliver would have to agree on that.

Looking around, he catches sight of a blonde at the end of the bar. She’s standing by herself with her back to them and running a hand through her slightly curled hair. The royal blue dress she’s wearing falls to the floor but her entire back is on display. It’s all skin, starting at her shoulders and ending at the base of her spine, the cut just shy of indecent yet still classy.

“I’ll be right back.”

Before he realizes it Oliver is crossing to the other side of the bar. He walks up behind the girl and briefly places a hand on her back to grab her attention. She turns to face him and he barely gets out a word before she throws her arms around him.

“Oliver!” Wait, he knows that voice. “You’re back! I’m so glad you’re home!”

He really, really knows that voice but for some reason can’t seem to place it. The warmth of the girl in his arms is a bit distracting and he pulls away before something embarrassing happens.

“Ollie! Felicity! I finally found you guys.” Oh shit.

“Felicity?”

“What? You go away for five years and forget about everybody? Come on, Oliver, I told you I dyed my hair in one of those letters.” Oh fucking shit.

No, this beautiful blonde bombshell cannot be Felicity. Felicity has brown hair and braces and glasses that are slightly too big for her face.  She’s disproportionate limbs and regularly teasing him with Thea. Felicity is a girl twelve years his junior, not this woman standing before him now. She can’t be. Because if she is Felicity, then he just had some very inappropriate thoughts about the girl he and his family have basically adopted as their own.

Did he mention she is twelve years younger than him and best friends with his baby sister?

“Felicity?” He really needs to think of something else to say besides her name.

“Uh, yeah, Felicity. You know, sister’s best friend, lives in the mansion, basically part of the family, just finished with her first year at MIT?”

“You okay there, Ollie?” He forgot about the presence of his little sister, his little sister who is only one year younger than Felicity.

“What? Yeah, no, I’m fine just wow you look…” gorgeous, stunning, drop dead sexy “grown up.”

But she’s not. She’s seventeen, almost eighteen if he remembers correctly, and he’s thirty. Maybe if he keeps reminding himself of that he’ll stop thinking about the heat of her bare skin against his hand for the brief second he touched her back.

“That does tend to happen, big brother. Don’t worry, Lis, he gave me the same speech when I first saw him, too.”

Now if only he could have the same thoughts about her that he did Thea. It has to be the tequila. Five years without it has made him an extreme lightweight. It’s also been awhile and he is a man, those tendencies don’t just disappear and unfortunately they don’t care about what is and isn’t appropriate.

“You look grown up, too.” Felicity reaches up to run her fingers through his cropped hair and it is definitely not helping the situation. “No more flow. I kind of like it, makes you look manly.” He needs to change the subject right now.

“How did you two get in here?”

“I believe it was somebody who said ‘Right this way, Miss Queen’,” Thea replies smartly before Felicity chimes in.

“Don’t worry, we’re not drinking. We just wanted to come celebrate your homecoming.” Jesus they’re not even old enough to drink.

“Well, you’re not drinking.” Felicity gives Thea a look. “Just a glass of champagne to celebrate.”

“You shouldn’t be drinking anything.”

“Okay, Felicity and I aren’t little kids anymore.” He’s noticed. He’s definitely noticed.

“No, but you are seventeen.”

“Hey, I’m almost eighteen. Give it a few weeks and this is totally legal. You know, minus the drinking.” All the reminders of just how old, or really how young, Felicity is make Oliver feel like a complete pervert.

“And you’re really one to talk, Ollie. Need I remind you of the time you totaled the car mom and dad bought you for your sixteenth birthday? Or when you were arrested for peeing on a cop? Or, hey, how about the party you threw at which Felicity almost drowned?”

The last one causes him to wince. That’s something Oliver will never feel he has made up for. There were a lot of stupid things he did as a teenager and a college student but usually no one else was hurt as a result of his actions.

“Thea.”

Felicity silently pleads with her to stop. The past few years have been hard for Thea. Hell, they’ve been hard for Felicity, too. But there’s no reason to take it out on Oliver right now.

“Listen, I know it was hard, me not being here.”

“You left me! You could have died! And I know you tried with the letters and occasional phone call but it wasn’t the same. I love you. But you can’t come back and act like you weren’t missing from my life for five years. You can’t come back and tell me how to live a life you’ve barely been in.” With that Thea turns to walk away, abruptly ending the conversation.

“I’ll go talk to her. I’m glad you’re back, Oliver.”

Felicity rests a hand on his arm before following Thea through the crowd of people, leaving Oliver dazed and confused. Part of him wonders when the fuck he stopped thinking about Felicity as his kid sister’s best friend but an even bigger part wants to know where all this anger in Thea is coming from.

“The brave soldier returns home from battle.” Oliver turns at the sound of the familiar voice and can’t help but grin.

“Sara Lance, how have you been?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I bet you have some serious war stories you can share with the class.” She leans in close and places a hand on his bicep. “And the muscles to match apparently.”

Oliver laughs and takes a step closer. He and Sara are both familiar with this dance. They used to do it often and the ending results were always satisfying. And like he said, it’s been awhile.

“I heard you just opened your own athletic training complex. That’s pretty impressive.”

“Yeah, you should come check it out. I also teach self-defense lessons. Maybe you can come in, show us some of your macho Army man moves.”

“I don’t know, some of those are top secret. It might cost you.” Her hand trails down his arm and their fingers intertwine.

“I think we can arrange something.”

….

Oliver looks over to the other side of his bed and finds Sara fast asleep. A glance at the clock tells him it’s almost four in the morning. Any normal human being would be asleep right now, especially with the workout he and Sara just participated in. But sleep is something he has learned to go without since joining the Army. Truth be told, he doesn’t think he could sleep for long even if he tried.

Getting up, Oliver pulls the sheets over Sara so she’s covered. Their clothes are strewn about the room and he collects them, silently laughing at her bra hanging off his ceiling fan. After he’s folded her clothes and left them in a pile on the bedside table, Oliver pulls on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and wanders downstairs for a snack before taking a seat on the couch in the parlor and turning on the TV.

His mindless viewing is interrupted by the sound of a collision and muffled cursing. Felicity stands behind him, holding onto the model ship she almost knocked over when she spotted Oliver and collided with the table.

“Oh my God, Oliver, you scared me!” She places a hand over her chest to calm her frantically beating heart. There’s usually no one up in the mansion at this time of night.

“Sorry. I don’t sleep much these days.”

She’s traded out her contacts for glasses and the dress she was wearing for a pair of pajama shorts and what looks suspiciously like a t-shirt he once had. Her curly blonde hair has been pulled back into a sloppy updo. She looks more like the Felicity he remembers from five years ago but he’s still hit by the realization of how beautiful she’s become. The desire he felt when he saw her at the club doesn’t return in full force and he takes this as a good sign. Chalk it up to the shock of seeing her the first time and how much she’s grown.

“My dad didn’t sleep well after his first tour either. I mean, I’m not assuming that that’s why you can’t sleep or anything. You might just be overwhelmed by tonight and hopped up on adrenaline or something. Not something like drugs something, just something else not related to illegal substances.” She bites her lip to stop her rambling and Oliver finds himself momentarily distracted.

“What are you doing awake? I thought you would be in bed right now.”

“Oh, yeah, I woke up with a headache. Thought I would come down and grab a glass of water, take a couple aspirins.” She wasn’t a very good liar when she was twelve and he’s happy to see at least that hasn’t changed.

“Felicity…” He’s willing to guess whom the water and pain relievers are really for.

“Don’t be mad at Thea, okay? Not having you here was really hard on her, even if she does understand why you chose what you did. I think this last year was especially difficult. She’s taking her SATs and looking at colleges. I haven’t been here because of MIT and your parents have been busting ass at QC. It’s just been a hard year for her.”

“She’s not the only one it’s been tough on. How are you holding up? And don’t say you’re-”

“I’m fine.”

“We both know that’s not how you really feel. Sit down, talk to me.” She hesitates before rounding the couch and sitting on the opposite end.

They weren’t this close before he left. He had only known her a few months before his deployment. But Felicity was one of those people you wanted to talk to. She always listened with genuine interest and spoke with kind honesty. From their first meeting Oliver had found it easy to open up to her, despite the large age difference. Truthfully, sometimes he would forget just how young she was because of the maturity and intelligence with which she spoke.

“What do you want me to say?”

“How is everything with your mom?”

“I… wouldn’t really know. I haven’t gone to visit her very often. Her trial is coming up in a few weeks though.”

“Is that something you want to be there for?”

The relationship between mother and daughter has always been rocky. Karen Smoak was not maternal by nature. She was brilliant, cutting, and what women in business aspired to be. A mother on the other hand, not so much. Felicity had been unplanned and while she had no doubt that her mother loved her, she also knew Karen’s priorities. They had a system to their interactions but after her mother took the job in Central City and Felicity chose to live with the Queens, their relationship was reduced to minimal, obligatory contact.

“I don’t know. She’s my mother and although she wasn’t the best, she tried. There’s nobody else to support her besides me.”

Sitting there, she looks so small, helpless and Oliver remembers that she’s only seventeen, too young to have gone though what she has.

“Hey, it’s all going to be okay.” He reaches out to take a hold of the hand that’s resting between them and smiles down at her.

“Ollie?”

Both of their heads swivel towards the entryway. Sara is standing there in the button down shirt Oliver wore earlier tonight and nothing else from what he can tell.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.” Felicity jumps up from the couch, cheeks turning red. “I’m just going to get that water and head up stairs. Uhm, yeah, okay goodnight, Oliver.” Flustered, she escapes the room squeaking out an apology as she passes Sara, who only smiles at her before walking over to stand in front of Oliver.

“She’s cute.” There’s a slight question to her tone.

“She is Felicity Smoak, Thea’s best friend who has been living here for the past two years. Her mother is Karen Smoak.”

Recognition flits across Sara’s face. Karen’s arrest had been all over the news when it occurred and with the upcoming trial the coverage has been picking back up again.

“I woke up and you weren’t there. If I remember correctly, that only happens when we spend the night at my place.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.” She frowns at that.

“You want to talk about it?”

She’s offering and it’s genuine but he knows she won’t push him either way. Sara would listen if you wanted her to but she was also more than okay with not talking.

“I can think of better things we can do than talk.”

Oliver reaches out and grabs her hips, pulling her into his lap. She giggles before pressing her lips to his neck and running her nails lightly along his arms.

He quickly forgets about Thea and Felicity and his nightmares and loses himself in sensation.

Chapter Text

Felicity's Work Outift: Here

....

He wakes up the next morning to an empty bed and a note on the bedside table where Sara’s clothes had been.

Last night was fun. Thanks for showing me some of your new Army moves.

- Sara

Shaking his head in amusement, Oliver rolls out of bed to get dressed. He pulls on a pair of athletic shorts and one of his Army t-shirts then heads out to take a run around the property. It’s only been two days that he’s been home and already he is getting antsy. His body craves physical exertion after so many years of knowing only such.

Oliver jogs through the garden and across the yard. He doesn’t have an exact route planned, but figures he’ll just keep going and at some point turn back when the muscle fatigue starts to set in. It’s hot out, especially for seven in the morning and he can feel the perspiration begin to trickle down his face. It’s still nowhere near as hot as it was in Afghanistan. This is child’s play compared to the heat he experienced there.

About fifteen minutes into his run, Oliver finds himself at one of the tree lines on the property. This place is familiar to him. It brings back memories of when he was little, playing with Tommy and Laurel in the tree house they built, and when he was not so little, sneaking back here during parties to make out with whoever caught his eye that night. He cuts through the trees and finds the wooden structure that was his own escape all those years ago.

After checking the ladder’s stability, he climbs the wooden rungs into the house. He thought it would be neglected, aged and broken down from years of disuse. Thea had used it for a while, once Oliver decided he was too old for this kind of thing, but she too had grown out of it. Instead what he finds is much more intriguing. Someone has placed a carpet on the floor and a very small cupboard in the corner.

Opening it, he finds books. There is an odd mix of genres. Classic novels and sci-fi titles line the two shelves. It’s stocked to the brim, books lying in every direction so they can all fit. The Introduction to Coding Theory catches his eye and he pulls it out from the stack. Opening it he finds little handwritten notes, some elaborating on the text and others marking a certain section of interest. It has to belong to Felicity.

The thought of her coming here and using this place as a sanctuary brings a warmth to Oliver’s chest that he rarely feels anymore. He spends a few minutes reading some of her notes. For someone who he remembers can be so analytical the scribbles he finds hold a personal vibe to them. Oliver even finds himself chuckling at what she’s written. After a few minutes, he puts the book away and exits the tree house. It’s getting hotter by the minute and he’s eager to get inside for breakfast and a nice, long shower. He doubles back, heading for the manor.

Entering through one of the side doors, Oliver catches the smell of breakfast coming from the kitchen. When he walks through the kitchen entryway, the sight that greets him is almost comical. Thea is sitting at the table, hair tangled and knotted and head lying on top of her folded arms. There’s a plate in front of her, far enough that he assumes she pushed it away, with a couple pieces of toast and a glass of orange juice adjacent to it.

Next to her sits Felicity, looking the exact opposite of his sister. Her curly blonde hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail, glasses perched on the top of her nose. She alternates between taking bites of her bacon and eggs and sipping on her coffee. Felicity’s tablet sits next to her and she taps it occasionally while she reads. He’s momentarily distracted when she nibbles on her lower lip in concentration, painted a bright shade of red.

“Mister Oliver, would you care for some breakfast?” Raisa’s question breaks him out of his staring and he turns to see she’s already bringing him a plate.

“I missed you, Raisa.”

“No gourmet kitchen in the Army?”

“No, not quite.” He takes the plate she offers to him and places a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you.”

“Good morning, Speedy.” He can’t help taunting her as he takes his place at the table on her other side, across from Felicity.

“NO. There are no such things.” Her arms muffle her response.

“That’s what happens when-“ Thea shoots up faster than he thought possible in her current state. She wobbles a little, lightheaded and slightly nauseous at the sudden movement.

“You know what, I think I’ll skip out on breakfast this morning.” Then she’s gone without another word.

Oliver stares at the empty chair in confusion. He thought that whatever had gone on between them last night would be forgotten. They used to fight all the time when they were younger, just like any other siblings. Disagreements usually blew over after they had both slept on it.

“She’s still letting off steam from last night. Give her some time.” Felicity studies him from her seat and takes a sip of her coffee.

“I didn’t realize she was so angry about this.”

“Don’t worry. Thea will come around eventually. She always does.”

They spend a few moments in silence as Oliver digs into his breakfast and Felicity continues to sip her coffee while reading whatever is on her tablet.

“You know coffee stunts your growth, right?”

“I think I lost all hope of growing past 5’ 4’’ two years ago. Plus it was either this or constantly falling asleep at really inconvenient times and places. I’m pretty sure I’ve doubled my intake this summer. This internship is kicking my butt.”

As she says this, the last of her coffee runs out and she pours herself another cup from the pot sitting on the table.

“I’m sure if you said something to my father he would help.”

She shouldn’t be working herself so hard. Especially when she barely slept last night.

“No. I refuse to be treated differently from any other intern just because I live with the CEO and have a certifiable genius IQ. That reminds me, MENSA contacted me the other day. I should probably call them back.”

“Still, you had a long night. I’m sure they would understand if you took a day off.”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t matter because I’m going in. Right now actually.”

Felicity stands and shoves her tablet in her bag before crossing the kitchen to grab a thermos from one of the cabinets. Her outfit instantly grabs Oliver’s attention. She’s wearing some kind of light blue button down but what really gets him is the skirt and her bright red heels, specifically what they do to her legs. They’re long and toned and he briefly imagines what it would be like to have them wrapped around his waist. His breath catches when she rocks forward onto her toes in order to reach the thermos on its shelf. The motion pulls her skirt just an inch higher, exposing more of her bare legs.

Fuck. He really needs to stop thinking about her like this. He feels like a perverted old man. Luckily she turns around and he’s forced to focus on her face again.

“Bye, Oliver!” She throws him a smile and a little wave before hurrying out the door.

Maybe he’ll go into Queen Consolidated today. Just to see how she is holding up after her late night.

….

Sure enough as lunchtime rolls around Oliver finds himself checking in at the security desk of the company. The man, or should he say boy, at the front desk barely glances at him. It’s a bit concerning seeing as they’ve had incidents before with protesters sneaking in. Oliver brushes it off as the kid recognizing him from the news and steps into the elevator to meet his mother on the executive floor.

Moira meets him as the elevator opens and leads him down the hall.

“Oliver, sweetheart, I’m so glad you wanted to come in today. As you can see we’ve modernized quite a bit.”

They enter an office with all glass walls. Robert is standing behind one of the desks and crosses over to greet them.

“I remember when I brought you in with me as a boy. You were always so excited.”

“Yeah, well, you let me drink soda in here.” They exchange tight smiles.

“We have been working on diversifying the company to expand our pool of investors. Currently we have cutting edge developments underway in the fields of clean energy and defensive technology.” Oliver isn’t really paying attention until Robert mentions the last part.

“Defensive technology?”

“Yes, that’s something your father and I would like to talk to you about. Why don’t you take a seat, son?”

“It makes me nervous when you ask me that. I’ll stand.”

Robert and Moira exchange a look. Their son was never the nervous type and he definitely wasn’t the type to own up to it on the rare occasion that he was. They thought this proposition would be easy but now, talking with Oliver, it might not be the case.

“Son, Queen Consolidated’s Applied Sciences division is looking to enter a contract with Defense Technology. Currently, the department is working very hard to create prototypes of less invasive, less lethal technologies of war.  Your mother and I want you to take up the position as Department Chair and oversee the project.”

“No.” He doesn’t even give it a second of consideration. “No, this is exactly what drove me to join the Army. You two have always pushed me to take over this company, to follow in dad’s footsteps. I don’t want this life.”

“Darling, we’re not asking you to taking over the company. There’s no hidden agenda. You are the best-equipped and most experienced person we know for the job. You have first hand knowledge of the military and their weaponry and the situations they will be used in. This project would grow so much under your supervision.”

“Mom-“

“Just think about it. We aren’t asking for you to make a solid decision today.”

“Mr. Queen, the food you ordered has arrived.” Robert’s assistant pops her head through the door, take-out bag in hand.

“I didn’t-“

“I did. I thought I would visit Felicity for lunch while I was here.” Oliver takes the bag from the assistant then turn to face his parents. “I’ll think about the offer.”

He travels down the eighteen floors to the IT department where Felicity has her internship. It’s the first time he’s ever stepped foot in here and he has to stop multiple employees to ask where he can find her. Finally he reaches the alcove he was told he could find the interns in.

She’s the only one there and he assumes the other interns are on their lunch break, where she should also be. Instead Oliver finds her working diligently with her back to him. Her ponytail swings back and forth as her focus shifts between computers and paperwork. She’s so immersed in what she’s doing that she doesn’t notice his arrival.

“Felicity Smoak.”

Felicity spins around in her chair and he almost groans. Her red lips are wrapped around a pen she was absentmindedly chewing on. Luckily she pulls it away and places it on the desk before his mind can truly wander, and looks up at him questioningly.

“Hi! What can I do for you, Mr. Queen?” He’s still slightly distracted by her mouth and her cherry red lipstick.

His pants definitely weren’t this tight when he left the mansion this morning. Fuck, what is he, a twelve-year-old boy? No, a part of him reminds himself, he is thirty and she is seventeen. The age difference between her and a twelve-year-old is less than the one between the two of them. He winces at that.

“Someone mentioned that this internship was a bit taxing. I thought I would swing by and force you to take a break.”

“That’s nice of you, Mr. Queen, but I really do have a lot of work to get done.” She needs to stop calling him that.

“First of all, Mr. Queen is my father. You don’t have to be formal with me. Second, you’ve probably noticed that my name is on the side of this building. I think your boss will be okay with you spending your lunch break with me.” There’s a look of contemplation on her face before it breaks out into a smile.

“Okay, what did you bring me?”

He holds up the bag so she can see the logo for a local burger joint, Big Belly Burger.

“Oh you sure know a way to a girl’s heart. Figuratively. I don’t have like a crush on you or anything. I’m just thankful that you brought me food, really delicious food that I have been craving for days. But you didn’t come down here to listen to me babble, which I promise will end in 3, 2, 1…”

He can’t stop the grin from breaking out across his face. The babbling is so Felicity he can’t help it. She’s done that since the moment he met her. Reaching out, he pulls one of the rolling chairs over next to her and plops the bag down on her desk, unloading its contents so they can start eating. Felicity breaks the silence a few bites in.

“So, what else brought you down here?”

“What?”

“You seemed kind of broody and ‘grrrr’ when you first walked in. What gives?”

“I wasn’t brooding.”

“Yes, you were. You listened to me last night, now it’s your turn to spill.”

He contemplates whether to tell her or not. She already has so much on her plate. Oliver’s family problems shouldn’t be added to that list. But she looks so genuine and talking to Felicity is easy so he finds himself opening up despite his qualms.

“My parents offered me a spot in the company.”

“And that’s bad because…”

“The whole reason I joined the Army was because my parents kept pushing me to become my father. They wanted me to become CEO and I didn’t. They froze my funds because I wasn’t taking it seriously.”

“I remember that. It was the same day we met.”

“Right. I thought that these past five years would make them realize that just because I didn’t want to follow their path didn’t mean I was being irresponsible and immature. To some extent, I think it did but there is still a part of them that wants this for me.”

“What’s the position they offered?”

“They want me to head some project in the Applied Sciences Division. Something about a partnership with Defense Technology and safer weaponry.”

“Sounds exactly like your cup of tea.”

“It is and I think if it were any other company offering I would take it.”

“Is it going to make you happy? Are you going to be proud of the work you do?”

“Yes. From what they briefly told me, the goal is to produce less evasive and less lethal defense mechanisms. This could prevent a lot of war causalities, specifically civilian casualties.”

“Then there’s your answer. Take the position. Just make it clear to your parents that you won’t take any other roles. Draw the line so they know where you stand.”

There’s a pressure on his hand and Oliver realizes that at some point in the conversation Felicity covered it with her own. When he looks back up, she’s dipping the last bite of her hamburger in ketchup before popping it in her mouth. It leaves a smudge of sauce at the corner of her lips and he can’t help but stare.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

“Yeah, actually you have ketchup right here.” He gestures in the general direction of it and she reaches up to wipe it off.

“Did I get it?”

“No.”

Again she raises her hand and wipes at her cheek, just missing the red smudge.

“Did I get it that time?”

“No, here let me…”

Before he realizes what he’s doing, Oliver reaches up and wipes the ketchup away with his thumb. It grazes her bottom lip and he hears Felicity’s breath catch in her throat. Her tongue sweeps out to wet her lips, thoroughly distracting him from whatever he was doing. Both of their breaths start to come in faster, shallower. He finally tears his eyes away from her mouth to look into hers and he swallows hard at the dark blue they’ve become.

“Oliver…” She doesn’t say his name so much as breathe it in a sigh.

“Hey, Felicity, you still working on that processor?”

The spell is broken and the two jump apart as fast as possible. Felicity’s supervisor rounds the corner as she’s righting the drink she just knocked over. Fortunately for her there wasn’t much left in the cup and she fixes it fast enough that nothing leaks out.

“Oh, Mr. Queen, how are you today? What brings you to IT?” The man is older, in his late-forties with black, slightly balding hair and a small beer gut.

“I’m fine, thank you. I just stopped by to have lunch with Felicity. I hope that’s not a problem…” He looks at the man’s company ID. “Mr. Andrews.”

“Not a problem at all, sir. Take all the time you need. Felicity, don’t worry about getting that processor done today. It can wait.” Oliver throws her a pointed look, to which she rolls her eyes in reply, but she seems distracted.

“Thank you, Mr. Andrews but I’m almost done. It should be finished by this afternoon.”

“Good. The other interns should be back soon.”

It’s a reminder for Felicity that her lunch break is nearly over. She turns to organize her desk and clean up the remainder of her lunch with Oliver as Mr. Andrews walks away. That leaves her alone with Oliver. She slows down her cleaning, hoping he will take the hint and leave.

“Uhm, I’m gonna go.”

“Yeah, yeah that’s probably a good idea.”

“I’ll see you at the mansion for dinner?”

“Yup, I’ll be there.” The air between them is tense and awkward as Oliver decides it’s time for him to make his exit.

“Bye, Felicity.”

As Oliver walks down the hall to the elevator, he can’t help but recall what happened less than five minutes ago. Or what almost happened. It’s so easy for him to forget about everything else when he’s talking to Felicity. He forgets that he’s damaged. He forgets that she’s so young. He forgets the other million reasons why this attraction he has to her is a bad idea.

Maybe he just needs to get laid… again. Oliver reaches into his pocket for his phone but drops it back before he has a chance to pull it out fully. He runs his hands through his hair, sighing in frustration, as he rides the elevator down.

This has got to get sorted out, fast.

Chapter Text

“Mr. Queen!”

“Mr. Queen, over here!”

“What’s it like being back home?”

“Oliver, look this way!”

“Is it true you wear a prosthetic leg?”

“What was it like going from pampered billionaire to suffering military man?”

“Are you priming to take over your family’s company?”

“Mr. Queen!”

Oliver has been back for over a week and the paparazzi are still on his tail. Currently, he is one his way to meet up with Tommy for dinner. This is definitely something that he did not miss during his enlistment; the constant flashing of cameras in his face and public scrutiny always bothered him. It was an invasion of his privacy, what little he had. Luckily, Oliver makes his way to Table Salt without major incident and is quickly shown to the table Tommy is already sitting at.

“Sorry I’m late, damn paps are still on my tail. I’ve been home for a week. You would think the attention would have died down by now.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m kind of amazed actually. They haven’t realized how serious and boring you’ve gotten.”

The waitress arrives at the table then, interrupting to take their drink orders. Tommy asks her to bring them each a scotch on the rocks and put it on his tab. Oliver raises a questioning eyebrow at his best friend.

“What’s the occasion?”

“My best friend just came back from five years of fighting in the war. Isn’t that occasion enough?”

Tommy seems slightly on edge but after years of being his best friend, Oliver knows not to push it. Tommy will tell him what’s going on his own time, when he’s ready.

“Sure…”

The waitress arrives with their drinks and takes their orders. Once she leaves, the two fall into comfortable conversation. Tommy tries to catch him up on pop culture that he’s missed out on and attempts yet again to drag war stories out of Oliver. They’ve exchanged a few over the years but nothing overtly specific. He couldn’t risk giving away his location or his unit’s operation.

“Come on. You don’t have any intense stories of war? Any valiant act of bravery to share that might just be your trump card with the ladies?”

....

“We’ve got to do something!”

“We can’t, kid. If we do we’re both as good as dead. There’s no saving her if we’re not around to do it.”

More gunshots go off and they press tighter to the wall behind them. He can hear her screaming in the distance.

“Fall back, fall back.”

The sound of their commanding officer orders through the coms.

“No! They still have her.”

“There’s nothing else we can do right now. Fall back.” Oliver contemplates ignoring him. “That’s an order, Queen.”

....

No, any acts of bravery he committed have been washed away by his ultimate act of cowardice.

“Hey, Ollie, where’d you go man?”

“Hmm? Sorry, I just zoned out a little. Coming back here has been… overwhelming to say the least.” That would be the understatement of the year.

“Don’t worry about it. I understand. I’ve been kind of distracted lately myself.” The nervousness from earlier returns to Tommy’s posture. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

“What’s going on? Is everything okay? Is it Laurel?”

“Yeah, yeah everything is okay. More than okay actually. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I uh…” He pauses to steady himself before continuing. “I’m going to ask Laurel to marry me. At the CNRI fundraiser next week.”

“Congratulations, man, that’s awesome.” A grin makes it’s away across Oliver’s face and he can see the tension leave Tommy as he exhales in relief.

“You mean it?”

“Of course. You two are my best friends. I’m glad you guys are happy together.”

 “Thanks. I haven’t talked to anyone about it. Oliver, I have never been this nervous in my life. What if she says no? I don’t know what I would do if she turned me down. I want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“Tommy, Laurel is not going to turn you down. She’s going to say yes and you are going to have a small, no nonsense wedding at Laurel’s insistence. You will settle down together, she’ll become a hot-shot lawyer and the bread winner of the family, and you’ll stay home with the kids during the day while managing the club at night.”

“Yeah, yeah you’re right.” Tommy gets this dreamy look on his face and Oliver rolls his eyes at his crazy-in-love friend.

His best friend is getting married to the woman of his dreams and Oliver is sitting around having inappropriate thoughts about blonde seventeen-year-old girls in short skirts. Well, one blonde seventeen-year-old girl. And her skirts aren’t that short. He groans internally at his mind’s justification. It’s still creepy.

“To you and Laurel.” He salutes Tommy with his glass.

“To me and Laurel.” Their glasses clink and the amber liquid tumbles down the back of their throats.

“Ugh, five years without alcohol and I’m starting to question how we consumed more of it than water on the weekends and still lived.”

“Lightweight.”

God, he had missed Tommy. Tommy was his best friend, his brother in every important sense of the word. There wasn’t a time Oliver had been in trouble that Tommy wasn’t right there with him, either getting him out of it or taking just as much of the blame. They had been thrown together at a young age, both their parents owning sizeable and prominent businesses in Starling City. Oliver and Tommy were there for each other through everything. They were each other’s entertainment during boring galas or fundraisers their parents had forced them to go to. When either of their parents had to leave town for business, the other’s stepped forward and offered a place to stay. Oliver had been there for Tommy when his mother had died and Tommy had been there for Oliver when his parents had cut him off. Sitting across from him now, Oliver realizes just how much he had missed his easygoing, enthusiastic best friend.

“So, what’s going on with you? Rumor has it you’ve been seen around QC lately. Anything I should know about?”

“I’m not planning on taking over the company if that’s what you mean. I know what it takes to run a successful business and I don’t have it.”

“Then what’s with the gossip mags?”

“I may not be planning on becoming CEO, but my parents offered me a position in QC’s Applied Sciences division. The company is looking to create less lethal weaponry and partner with DefenseTech, which deals with military personnel. They asked me to head the project.”

“Are you going to? It sounds like you would be the perfect fit.”

“There’s someone I need to talk to about it, one of my friends and a brother in arms. He was the one who showed me the Army was an option I had if I was serious about shaping up and getting my life together. He also ended up being my commanding officer.”

“The guy you met at the police station that night I bailed you out? The same one who stopped you from destroying that douchebag in the bar that was hitting on Laurel?”

“Yeah. He’s dealt with DefenseTech before and I think he would have the most insight, give me the most detail about it.”

“Have you considered that maybe this is your parents trying to work you back into being heir to the company?”

“I told them I wouldn’t do it if that was their agenda. I’ll work on this project and some security details but that’s it. When I was talking about it with Felicity she suggested I make it extremely clear where I stand.”

“Speaking of, have you noticed how hot Felicity’s gotten?” A flash of something, Oliver decides to call it annoyance, shoots through him and it must show on his face because Tommy quickly backtracks. “Because I have not.”

At least Oliver’s not the only one to notice her physical appearance. It makes him feel a little less like a pervert. Although he doubts that Tommy’s thoughts are anywhere near as inappropriate as his.

“She’s definitely grown up since I saw her last.”

“Did she tell you about the tattoo?”

“What?”

His whole body stiffens slightly. Felicity has a tattoo. Before he can stop it, his mind flashes to the different places it could be. The ink must be somewhere easy to conceal because he hasn’t noticed it. Images play through his head of the bare skin of her back in the dress she wore at his welcome home party. He doesn’t recall seeing a tattoo that night; if he had he would have remembered.

“Yeah, her and Thea begged me to take them since they’re not old enough to go alone.”

“Thea has a tattoo?”

His reaction to that information is entirely different from the one he had to the realization about Felicity.

“No, I think she got something pierced, belly button or something. Not exactly sure seeing as my hand was being held in Felicity’s death grip. My fingers were blue by the end of it, which thankfully didn’t take that long. It was a pretty small piece.”

“What was it?” It’s completely out of innocent curiosity that he asks the question.

“An arrow, right above her hipbone. She didn’t say why, just that she had been thinking about it for a while now. I didn’t question her on it. It’s Felicity; she doesn’t make stupid, rash decisions so I wasn’t too worried.”

“Oh, cool.” He really can’t think of anything else to say because his mind is in overdrive thinking about that mark on her body. Then another thought occurs to him. “You let my baby sister get her belly button pierced?”

“Oops, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”

Tommy has to make a quick getaway when he and Oliver are finished with dinner. Laurel calls him right after they asked for the check. He doesn't explain to Oliver what's going on, just that everything is fine and she just wants him home to spend time with her. Still, Oliver can swear he hears Tommy grumble something about chocolate and heating pads and Ryan Gosling as he leaves.

….

Oliver is just pulling on his shirt upstairs in his bedroom when Thea walks in.

“How did you get those?” Shit. He had forgotten to close the door and didn’t hear her arrival soon enough. Oliver tries in vain to tug the shirt closed but it’s too late.

“Don’t you knock?” It comes out harsher than he intends to but Thea is not deterred. She reaches up to push the sides of his shirt away, revealing his scarred physique.

“No, wait, you said you had some close calls but…” He stands there in resignation as she surveys the damage that has been done to his body. “Oliver, what happened to you over there?”

....

“She’s a prisoner of war now. We have to abide by the protocol.”

“They are torturing her! We can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

“We’re not doing nothing. We’re strategizing. We are figuring out the safest way we can to get her out of there.”

“And while we sit here and strategize she’s out there being violated and tormented.”

“She’s important to all of us. We are all a part of the same unit. It would do you well to get a grip and remember your place before you question my authority, Private.”

There’s a tense moment between them and Oliver knows he’s lost this one.

“Yes, Sir.” Turning on his heel he makes to leave the tent when his commanding officer calls out, in a less harsh tone.

“Oliver, we’ll bring her back.” He walks out.

....

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Thea lets go and Oliver quickly does up the buttons of his shirt.

“Of course you don’t. Now that you’re back you don’t want to talk to me about anything. Unless it’s to be a completely hypocritical asshole about what I do in my free time.”

She stares him down for a moment, daring him to say something. When he doesn’t respond she spins around to leave.

“Wait… I’m sorry, Thea.”

Turning back, Thea gives him a blank look.

“For which part? The not talking or being a hypocritical asshole?”

“Both. I know I need to get better about talking about what happened. But I don’t think I’m ready just yet.”

“You know after you left, things were hard. I could hear mom and dad fighting and I know that’s not new but it got worse because they were fighting about you. It was dad’s idea to cut you off, you know. She blamed him for your decision to join the Army, to leave us and go somewhere that could easily get you killed. Then they just stopped talking altogether and avoided each other unless there was some fundraiser or QC event. The house got so quiet and there was no one for me to talk to.”

Her breath hitches slightly before she continues.

“So I started writing to you but I never told you about mom and dad. I didn’t want you to blame yourself because it wasn’t your fault. I wrote stupid stuff, like what I was doing that day or what boy I had a crush on and it helped. But it wasn’t enough. Then Felicity moved in here. When she told me about her mom taking the job in Central City, I was devastated. You had just been gone a year and now I was going to lose my best friend, too. I went to mom and dad, told them what was happening, and they offered for Felicity to stay with us, here in Starling. She moved in and I had someone to talk to. I told her about the fighting and how much I missed you and she understood what I was feeling because she had gone through the same thing when her dad left for his second tour. Only sometimes that scared me because he didn’t come back. But you did and you’re here now but the truth is I’ve never felt further away from you than I do right now.”

“Thea, I – “

“No, look I understand that what you went through was hard. But it was hard here, too.” Thea takes a step closer. “You have to let me in, Ollie. You have to let someone in.”

But he can’t. He can’t tell anyone about what happened. Thea can see it in his eyes that he’s not going to say anything, so she walks away.

Oliver isn’t sure how he got here or why but minutes later he finds himself standing at the foot of the tree that holds his old tree house. He climbs the ladder to the entrance but freezes when he sees someone inside.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t think anyone would be up here.”

“No! No, it’s okay. You can come in, if you want. I mean obviously you don’t need my permission since it’s your tree house. But uh yeah come in. There might not be a lot of room though. Not that we would be doing anything that requires a lot of room.”

Felicity stutters through the end of her reply and quickly distracts herself with putting away the book she had out in front of her.

“It’s fine. I was just thinking and ended up here.”

“I do that a lot. Come here to think that is, not ending up in random places.”

“Yeah, I understood what you meant.” He smiles softly at her and the blush that’s made its way across her cheeks.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what were you thinking about?”

“Thea and I had a bit of a… heated discussion.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He thinks about the conversation he just had with his sister. She was right. He needs to talk to somebody, to let somebody in. But he was right too. He’s not ready to share his story, to talk about how he was responsible for the death of not one but two people who became such an important part of his life and his growth.

“Yeah, actually. Is mint chip still your favorite ice cream?”

Apparently part of him wants to open up to her anyway.

Twenty minutes later, after making the trek from the tree house to the kitchen and up to his room, Oliver and Felicity are seated on his couch. A carton of min chip sits between them and they each have a spoon in their hands. They forewent the bowls, choosing to pass the carton back and fourth between them instead.

“Mmmm… This is better than I remember.”

“No ice cream for the brave soldiers, huh? What a shame. You’re doing us a service, the least they could do is reward you with ice cream.”

“Do you think you’re cute?”

Because Oliver does. He thinks she’s so unbelievably cute and he can’t help but smile at her.

“Maybe just a little.” Felicity holds her fingers up to mime the word and she squints slightly behind her glasses. He finds his smile widening to an all out grin. “Whoa there! Be careful with those things. You might blind someone with their pearly whiteness.” He laughs, full out laughs at her teasing and she smiles to herself in satisfaction. “Not to say that I’m not enjoying this, because it’s mint chip who wouldn’t, but this isn’t exactly talking.”

“Words are being exchanged. I’m pretty sure that’s what talking is.”

“Oliver. Tell me what’s going on?”

She grabs his spoon and hers and sticks them into the ice cream before setting the carton on the small table behind the couch. Turning back she gives him a look that says he has her undivided attention.

“My sister pointed out to me that I might have been a little distant lately.”

She gives him a nod because, yeah, he’s been pretty much avoiding her since he visited her office/cubicle/Intern Corner last week.

“She said that it might be good if I let someone in. The problem is, I don’t think I’m ready to do that. I’m not ready to talk about some of the things that happened over there.”

“So don’t talk about that, yet. Talk about something else. I know other things happened over there that made you stronger, made you the person you are now. You talked about some of it in your letters. Not everything over there was all pain all the time. But if that’s hitting too close to home then talk about, I don’t know, your family or QC. Have you decided what you’re going to do officially about your parents’ offer?”

“After five years, I have plans. One of my friends is starting up a private security service. It’s based here, in Starling. I can’t do that if I’m at board meetings and stuck behind a desk.”

“Your parents aren’t asking you to become CEO. If they do try that, just say no. Ultimately you need to do what makes you happy. A position as CEO may pay well and look good on paper, but I put happiness over money any day.”

She’s always been smart. Actually, smart is an understatement. She’s down right brilliant and Oliver is pretty sure he remembers her mentioning multiple intelligence agencies contacting her at some point in one of her rambling letters. Hers were always the longest because she wrote like she spoke, genuine and a mile a minute without restraint.

“What else is bothering you?”

“Thea. I didn’t know things were so hard for her here with my parents and me leaving. She never mentioned any of that before.”

“You had to know it was going to be hard on her. Thea practically worshipped you when I first met her. I’m pretty sure she mentioned you within the first ten minutes of our introduction. You call her Speedy for a reason.”

“I know. I knew it was going to be tough but I figured she would get over it. She had you and Tommy and mom and dad. She was so excited to start middle school at that new academy. I thought she would get over me leaving when the school year began.”

“Oliver, she never got over you leaving and then when you extended your tour, she was so furious. I listened to her for hours until she finally just cried. I was there for her in the best way that I could be even though what she really needed were her parents.”

“But instead they were fighting because I left.”

“Actually at that point I’m pretty sure they had started avoiding each other.”

“If I had known, I would’ve – “

“You would have what Oliver? Ditched out on your unit and come home? Packed your bags and said ‘see you later alligator’ and walked away? No. There’s nothing you could have done and there’s nothing you needed to do because this wasn’t your fault. You made your choices and your parents made theirs. How they chose to deal with it, or not deal with it, is on them. You can’t take responsibility for every little thing that goes wrong with the people around you.”

Felicity sits back with an air of finality and snatches the mostly melted ice cream from the table.

“You know, for a seventeen-year-old, you’re pretty smart.”

“For the record, I turn eighteen in less than two months. Also, smart is kind of insulting to my IQ.”

“Yeah, smartass is more like it.”

Her spoons dips into the carton and brings what is left of the ice cream to her mouth. Oliver reaches for his spoon but she pulls the ice cream out of his reach.

“I don’t give ice cream to people who aren’t nice to me.”

“Fine. I’ll just take it from you.”

She laughs as he reaches for it again but she holds it over her head. He doesn’t realize the huge mistake he’s about to make until it’s too late. As Oliver leans over to her side of the couch, Felicity stretches back and away from him, keeping the ice cream just out of reach. He pushes forward to reach for the carton and that’s when he realizes that his body is now fully laying on top of hers. One of his arms braces himself on the armrest she is leaning against while the other keeps hold of her wrist, where it landed in his attempt to grab the ice cream.

Looking at her face, Oliver sees that Felicity has come to the same realization. This is it. This is the moment when she realizes just how perverted he is and runs for the hills. She will push him off of her and yell about how gross and inappropriate he is and she won’t ever talk to him again.

Only she doesn’t do any of that. Her breathing picks up and her pupils dilate. The hand she had on his chest in an effort to push him away now tightens in his shirt. Looking away from her eyes his gaze bounces around the room and then back down at her in a matter of seconds. Then he catches sight of something dark by her hip where her shirt has risen to expose the skin. Felicity’s tattoo. As if it has a mind of its own, the hand still holding her wrist relinquishes its hold and reaches down to trace the ink on her smooth skin. Felicity gasps at the contact and it’s like ice water being thrown onto them.

“Oh shit.”

She shoots up from her position, her body pushing his back and away from her. Frantically, Felicity drops the ice cream on the table and runs a hand over her hair before pulling down her shirt. She doesn’t look at Oliver once; instead doing everything she possibly can to avoid eye contact.

“I, uh, I just remembered I have a thing I have to go to. Thanks for the ice cream. Bye.”

The words are rushed and thrown behind her back as she escapes the room.

That was what Oliver had been waiting for. The fact that things went as far as they did without her running surprises him. Now she will probably avoid him at all costs while sitting around thoroughly disgusted by him. And she should be. She’s not even of legal age yet. He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration.

After taking a few minutes to process everything that just occurred and calm down, Oliver picks up his phone and dials a number that once changed his life. His inability to stay away from Felicity physically is not all that he took from that conversation. There are other matters, such as the QC offer, that he needs to sort out. If it happens to distract him from a certain blonde that’s just an added bonus.

The phone rings once, twice before the man on the other end picks up.

“Queen, did you think about the offer I gave you? We could really use a man with your skillset in the field.”

“Yeah, I did, and I want to take you up on it. But I can’t right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“My parents asked me to take a temporary position at Queen Consolidated. You know the company DefenseTech?”

“They’re a main supplier of weaponry for the military. I used to deal with some of their guys back on base.”

“Well, the company’s Applied Sciences division is looking to partner with them. My parents want me to oversee the project and their designs.”

“DefenseTech is committed to a new, less aggressive philosophy. They’re going to want defensive mechanisms that will minimize casualties.”

“So I have been told. Do you think it’s a good position for someone with my experience? It won’t be permanent, but my parents genuinely sounded like they needed me and not just because of our family relations.”

“I think you’re exactly the man for the job. Number one marksman in the unit, probably the whole base. Well except for…”

Her name goes unsaid but it rings loud and clear in the silence.

“Yeah, okay. It won’t be a conflict of interest or shady marketing? You think the guys at DefenseTech will find it respectable?”

“If they know what’s good for them they’ll appreciate working with someone who knows what he’s doing. I know there were some allegations in the past concerning whom a couple of people in their employ were dealing for, but I haven’t heard of any corruption in the company’s operations for years now. People will most likely question you about it, though.”

“They’re clean now though?”

“As far as I know. They got everyone involved in that scandal out of there and tightened their security checks for employees.”

“Thanks, I appreciate the insight. It will definitely help my final decision.”

“Anything else you called about?”

“No, that’s it. I just wanted to get your opinion before I chose whether or not the accept the position since you have personal experience with them.”

“Alright, man. Lyla and I will be back in Starling soon and I’ve already got a start up with the local task force. Looks like we’ll be staying put for a while. Let me know if you change your mind about the job or if anything else comes up.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’re not in the war anymore, Oliver. You can lose the formal title.”

“Thanks, Digg. I appreciate it.”

“That’s better."

The line goes dead and Oliver’s decision is made. In the morning, he’ll notify his parents of his decision to take the position at QC.

Chapter Text

Felicity's outfits: press conference, congratulatory party

....

Three days later Robert and Moira Queen announce proudly that their son will be taking a position in the company. Apparently, Oliver’s employment necessitates a full on press conference in the Queen Consolidated lobby and a formal gathering that night. He’s not all too sure why that is. The position is a small one, nowhere near the one his parents had in mind for him those few years ago. In fact, it’s not even close. There’s a sinking suspicion in Oliver that tells him maybe his parents did not take his refusal of a permanent spot as seriously as they seemed to.

“Good afternoon everyone.”

A chorus of voices responds with a greeting and cameras flash from all different angles. Eager reporters sit on the edges of their seats, waiting to get the big scoop on the Queen family and company.  Their recorders are on hand and held as close as possible so they don’t miss a thing. On stage sits the Queen family, including Felicity. It is common knowledge now that she has been welcomed into their home and no one is shocked to find her amongst one of Starling’s most prominent families. She sits next to Thea, who is attempting to be discreet about checking her phone in her purse. Oliver is seated between Thea and Moira while Robert stands at the podium to address the crowd.

“My name is Robert Queen and I am CEO of Queen Consolidated, but you all knew that.” Polite laughter follows and Oliver resists the urge to roll his eyes.

Robert begins his introduction, subtly reminding the crowd of the company’s past success and partnerships.

Oliver takes this time to sneak glances at Felicity. Things have been awkward, to say the least, between them since the incident on his couch three nights ago. After their first run in at the office, and Oliver’s subsequent ignoring of Felicity the rest of the week, he had learned better than to ignore her completely. But now it seemed she had changed her tune because she had done everything possible to not be alone with him these past few days. The only conclusion he could come to was that it really had freaked her out and he tried to remind himself that was a good thing. Maybe if they kept their distance he wouldn’t keep getting inappropriate hard-ons for a minor and they wouldn’t keep ending up in suggestive situations. He told himself it was all for the best.

But every now and then Oliver would still find himself looking at Felicity. Even now, with his sister between them and an audience of publicity junkies, he catches himself admiring her. Right now she’s wearing a floral print dress with a teal blazer. The color brings out her eyes behind her glasses, something he definitely shouldn’t notice from this far away and at this angle. She’s shaking her foot in an effort to sit still and her pink-tipped fingers are tapping against her purse. A sudden urge strikes him to reach over and settle his hand on top of hers but he suppresses it.

“And with that I would like to introduce to you my son and the chairman of this new project, Oliver Queen.”

He’s startled out of his admiring by his father’s introduction and quickly stands to walk to the podium as a quiet applause spreads through the room. After a few seconds he raises his hand to quiet them. Oliver knows how to command a crowd both from his playboy days and his time in the Army. Now he just does it with more respect and maturity.

“Hello, everyone. How are you all doing?” He pauses as they reply with a variation of positive response. “Great, I am glad to hear it. As my father said, he and my mother have asked me to oversee the new project our Applied Sciences division has taken under its wing. This project will take Queen Consolidated further into the field of technological development than it has ever been before. We, hopefully with the help of DefenseTech, are aiming to produce less violent and negatively consequential tactics of warfare. So what does that mean? Well over the next few months our employees will be working hard to design less invasive weaponry for the U.S. military. As you can see, this project involves something I am personally familiar with. It is my hope that my experience coupled with the brilliant minds of our scientists and engineers on board will help create a safer method of warfare to be used in the future.”

The applause this time is slightly louder than it was when he was introduced. Oliver throws the crowd of onlookers a few smiles before continuing.

“I would now like to open the floor to any further questions you may have.”

Immediately hands shoot up. This is unsurprising and after talking with his family publicist and head of PR it was decided Oliver would take a maximum of six questions before ending the press conference. He picks a random reporter in front to go first.

“Mr. Queen, in the past DefenseTech has dealt with allegations of unfavorable conduct. What do you say to this?”

“I have personally looked into DefenseTech and their current operations. A good friend of mine from Afghanistan coordinated with them at the base and after talking to him I can say with confidence that the allegations, which were dropped years ago I might add, are not a worry of mine.”

Once the words are out of his mouth there are more shouts of his name before he picks the next question.

“So what you are saying, Mr. Queen, is that these allegations are of absolutely no concern to you and Queen Consolidated?”

“Of course they were a concern. However, like I said, I have personally looked into the matter even though the accusations were proven false years ago and those possibly believed to be involved replaced. Next question, please.”

This goes on for another fifteen minutes and most are simple enough to answer. Oliver takes his last question from a short, balding man in the front.

“Should we be expecting you to take a more active role in the company once this project is fully underway? Perhaps, say, training to become CEO?”

The question causes Oliver to tense slightly. He had thought his father planned on addressing this but apparently that had not been the case. Of course he had prepared for this but realizing Robert had not mentioned his son’s intentions as planned put him on edge.

“No. The terms I have agreed to upon accepting this position state that once this project is up and running and making sizeable headway, I will be leaving the company. CEO was not something I wanted for myself five years ago and it is still something I do not see as a part of my future. Thank you all for your attendance today.”

Reporters call out as Oliver leaves the stage, begging for one more question, one more photo. Instead he gathers with his family and the security detail as they exit the lobby. Once they reach the elevators Thea and Moira say their goodbyes. His mother will be overseeing the preparations for tonight’s congratulatory gathering in one of the local business bars while Thea accompanies her.

“Oliver, you did an excellent job, sweetheart.” His mother compliments him before kissing his cheek. “Wasn’t your big brother wonderful, Thea?”

The teenager in question barely throws a glance her brother’s way, instead choosing to burry her nose in her phone and mumble something that sort of sounds like an agreement. Things between them were still tense. Thea was waiting for Oliver to open up to her but he wasn’t sure he would ever fully be able to. This would, hopefully, blow over soon. She always did know how to hold a grudge but Oliver had learned years ago to weather the storm with her.

“Darling, you did great. I’ll see you tonight.” With that Moira and Thea exit the building and are driven away in their town car.

Oliver turns back around to see that his father had already left. It’s no surprise to him. What is a surprise is the sight of Felicity, waiting for him by the elevators. She looks pensive, unsure as he crosses to her.

He’s about to speak when the elevator opens and she steps in quickly. Oliver follows and the doors begin to close when someone calls out for them to hold it. He has absolutely no intention of doing so but Felicity does. The man joins them and turns to her.

“Thanks, cutie. What floor are you going to?”

Cutie? Who is this guy? The term of endearment makes Oliver’s skin crawl.

“Uhm, seventh floor.”

“Too bad, I’m going to five.” The man is about to press the button to close the doors when Oliver accidentally knocks the folder he is holding out of the elevator. Complete accident, really.

“What the hell man?”

The guy doesn’t even look to see whom he’s yelling at as he dives after his papers. The doors slam shut before he can get back on.

“What was that?” The question comes from Felicity and he turns to see her staring at him with one eyebrow raised.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Oliver plays it off like he is trying to be charming but really he doesn’t know the answer to her question either.

“Okay, right.”

They stand in silence as the car rises. There’s tension between the two of them. He can feel it, an invisible presence crowding the elevator car. Sometimes it’s so easy for him, natural, to open up to Felicity and talk with her. But other times, like right now, he can’t decide if he wants to push himself against the farthest wall or pull her close. They reach her floor without speaking and he thinks that whatever the reason she chose to wait for him she has rethought and decided against. But then she turns quickly to face him before stepping out.

“I just wanted to tell you that I think you did a great job. I know it’s not exactly what you want for yourself but you fit the role perfectly up there.” She pecks him on the cheek, leaving a faint pink mark, before exiting the car.

The Applied Sciences floor is only three above the IT Department so Oliver spends the rest of his ride in stunned silence. Through his reflection off of the elevator walls he can see the light mark from her lipstick. Part of him, for some reason unbeknownst to him, wants to leave it there. However, a much bigger part tells him to wipe it off before anyone sees it and starts asking questions. Lipstick was not an uncommon thing to be found on Oliver Queen during his wilder years. One time he and Tommy had even made it a challenge to see who could get the most varying shades on them in one night.  But that isn’t who he is anymore and that isn’t the image he wants to represent so he pulls the handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes the small trace of Felicity away.

As Oliver exits the elevator he finds an intern, young probably around Felicity’s age give or take a year, waiting to show him around.

“Mr. Queen, welcome to Applied Sciences. It’s a pleasure to have you on board with this project. The engineers and chemists have been working really hard to make sure everything was ready when you arrived. Not that they were unprepared before. I’m Barry, by the way. Barry Allen. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The man, no definitely kid, eagerly sticks his hand out for Oliver to shake.

“Right, it’s nice to meet you, Barry. And since we are going to be working together you can call me Oliver.”

“Wow, okay. It’s such a great project you’ve chosen to oversee here, Mr. Que – Oliver. There are so many civilian casualties in war. The technology we are designing aims to reduce the number by at least twenty percent, which might not seem like a lot, but really when we are talking about human lives any number counts. Don’t you think? We’re also hoping to advance the accuracy in…”

This is going to be a long day.

….

Sure enough, by the time Oliver arrives at his congratulatory celebration that night at eight o’clock he is exhausted. Right now there is nothing else he’d rather do than crawl into his bed and pass out. But he can’t because now he’s a businessman and that entails formal gatherings and business meetings and putting on a face to please the people. So he pulls on his best charming billionaire smile and walks into the crowded room.

People greet him as he walks through the room. They pat him on the back and congratulate him by name like they’ve known him his entire life. He doesn’t even recognize half their faces, except for a few daughters and young wives of businessmen he may or may not have encountered in his younger years. Those days are long behind him and he’s more than a little ashamed of his actions as a young adolescent.

There’s a weight on his back and he turns to find his mother smiling at him with pride.

“Oliver, darling, you’re here. Come, there’s someone I would like you to meet.”

Together they make their way across the room. Moira greets a few guests in passing but Oliver’s eyes have zeroed in on his father and a leggy, brunette woman. They’re speaking quietly but what draws Oliver’s attention is the way they lean into each other, closer than business acquaintances should. As they approach the woman pulls back slightly, but does not seem guilty or ashamed of how close she was standing to Robert.

“Oliver, I would like to introduce to you our new CFO of Queen Consolidated, Isabel Rochev. She has been working with us for the past year and is doing a splendid job.”

Moira’s words are kind, poised and she smiles at the younger woman. However, there’s a slight detachment to her tone and Oliver picks up on it right away.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He takes her outstretched hand to shake it lightly.

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Queen.”

The glint in her eye gives Oliver an uneasy feeling. It’s not the look he is used to receiving from women, full of desire and infatuation. No, this look is cold, cutting. She looks like a predator on the prowl and not in a way that makes his blood start racing. Instead it freezes him in place before she retracts her hand.

“Have you found Queen Consolidated to suit you, Ms. Rochev?”

“Yes, I have found it a rather… enjoyable experience thus far.” He doesn’t miss the way her eyes slide to the side to briefly glance at Robert before returning to meet his gaze. “The company is quite adaptable and cutting edge and I am pleased to say that our stocks and financial reports have taken a positive turn this past year.”

“All thanks to your leadership, no doubt.”

“I was glad to be given such an opportunity to make a name for myself, especially within a Fortune 500 company. My time here has been quite rewarding to say the least.”

There’s a tense moment where all four stand and smile politely at one another. Something is going on unsaid between Oliver’s parents and Isabel Rochev and he has a pretty good idea what that is.

“Sorry to interrupt, Moira, Mr. Queen, but I was hoping to maybe steal Oliver away for a little bit?”

Felicity stands next to the group of adults, small in size but large in presence. Moira and Robert smile at her fondly while Isabel gives her a look of indifference.

“Of course, dear, and you have lived under my roof for almost two years. You can call me Robert.”

Robert has always held Felicity in high regard. Her intelligence and work ethic made her a valuable asset, something Robert sought out and held on to.

“Thank you. It will only take a second. Oliver?” He nods and excuses himself from the group to follow her away.

“What do you need?”

“Oh, I don’t need anything but it looked like you did. I thought I would save you from the awkward tennis match between your parents and Isabel.” Felicity says the woman’s name as if it leaves a bitter taste on her tongue.

“I take it you’re not a fan.”

“You would be correct. Your father has done some indecent things in the past but she has to rank in the top ten.” Well that confirms Oliver’s suspicions.

“Does Moira know?”

“Of course she does. When have you ever known someone to pull one over on Moira Queen?”

“I knew my dad had his…. extracurricular activities, but to bring one into the company and flaunt that is a whole other kind of low.”

“Things aren’t the same as when you left, Oliver. A lot has changed.”

They’ve made their way over to the open bar and Felicity asks for a glass of champagne. As she leans over to chat with the bartender, Oliver is distracted by her outfit, which is becoming an increasingly normal occurrence that he really needs to shake. She’s wearing her hair down, blonde curls cascading over her bare shoulders, exposed by her strapless cream dress, which is overlapped with red flowers and lace. It makes her look older, sophisticated. She turns around, champagne flute in hand and takes a sip to which he raises his eyebrow.

“Oh did you want one, too?” She takes another sip before he snags the drink from her.

“Last time I checked you weren’t twenty-one.” Life would be so much easier if she was.

“You’re no fun.”

The pout that Felicity gives him is adorable and he wonders what it would be like to kiss it away, to replace her pout with a very different expression.

“Trust me, I can be very, very fun.”

That really wasn’t supposed to come out as low and throaty as it did. Her eyes widen and Oliver watches as her pupils dilate. Damn it. Why does he keep getting himself into these situations with her?

“Ollie? Is that you?”

The voice is somewhat familiar and the memories associated with it cause Oliver to cringe. Turning around, he finds a redhead in a purple dress, if it could be called that, walking up to them.

“Oh, hi uh….” He trails off, searching his memory for the woman’s name and failing.

“Shannon.”

He was thinking Jessica so it’s a really good thing he didn’t just go for it. At his side Felicity snorts, quickly covering her mouth with her hand to hide her laughter.

“Right, of course, how are you?”

“I’m doing well. Not as well as you though.”

She reaches out to squeeze his bicep and Oliver cringes. Were these really the type of women he was interested in before the Army? She practically purrs at him as she takes a step closer. He tries to move back, only to be followed closely. Felicity has an arm wrapped around her waist and the other is pressed firmly over her mouth, attempting to hold in her laughter.

“What are you doing over here, by yourself? You should be out on the dance floor with a pretty girl on your arm.”

By pretty girl she obviously means herself.

“I’m not alone, actually, but you’re right.” He shifts towards Felicity and holds a hand out to her. “Care for a dance?”

“Of course.”

There’s still a smile on her face and laughter in her posture as she takes his hand. It’s soft and small and it fits perfectly in his own.  He’s momentarily struck by just how tiny and fragile she is and he pulls her close when a wave of protectiveness washes over him.

“If you’ll please excuse us, Shannon.”

Oliver doesn’t wait for a reply as he pulls Felicity to the center of the dance floor. He hears the other girl’s huff of indignation as he walks away but doesn’t look back. Instead, his hand not holding onto Felicity’s settles comfortably on the small of her back as her pulls her into position and begins to sway. When he looks down at her face she’s still smiling but it’s not as full of amusement as it was during their encounter with Shannon.

“So, do you want to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?”

He regrets the words almost as soon as he says them but part of him wants to know if she really does find his actions inappropriate and appalling, like he assumes.

“Depends, do you want to explain what just happened?”

“Past encounter from my irresponsible young adolescent years. Your turn.”

Felicity looks away and bites her lip in hesitation before returning his gaze and taking a deep breath.

“Do you remember the other night, in your room?”

Yeah, he definitely remembers. He remembers it every time he closes his eyes at night and the evidence is there when he wakes up in the morning. It would be a lot easier if he didn’t.

“I believe I was there.”

“Right. Uhm… well it’s about what happened you know after the talking part but before the part where I basically bolted out the door like I was on fire.”

This was something Oliver thought he wanted to hear. However, he is quickly realizing that isn’t exactly the case anymore.

“About that, listen Felicity, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable in anyway. How I acted, that won’t be happening again. I promise.”

For a second she almost looks disappointed, but he’s too distracted to read into it because a small red dot hits his face before disappearing behind Felicity’s head. Years in the Army trained him to recognize what it is and he barely has time to react before the shot rings out.

Oliver tackles Felicity to the ground, shielding her with his body. Terrified screams ring out around them and the room fills with chaos. He tugs her close and into a crouch, running close to the ground. Bullets whiz by them and one nicks him in the shoulder. It stings where the bullet tore open his skin but he’s had much, much worse. A nearby table at the edge of the dance floor provides cover for them as Oliver yanks Felicity underneath it with him.

“Felicity, are you okay?”

She’s shaking and her eyes dart around frantically. Both of Oliver’s hands frame her face, forcing her to look at him.

“Are you hurt?” He looks her over to see if there is any visible injury and finds none.

“N-no. No. I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

Just then a bullet hits the top of the table and ricochets off, causing Felicity to jump and pull herself closer to him. They can’t stay here for too long. If he remembers correctly, there is a marble pillar approximately ten feet from where they are hidden. They should be safely hidden behind that.

“Felicity, listen to me. There’s a pillar not far from this table. Are you paying attention? Okay, we can’t stay under here. We’ll wait for a break in gunfire and then run. You stay as close to me as you can, make yourself as small a target as possible. Do you understand?”

Felicity gives him a frenzied nod. Her body is still shaking and her teeth begin to rattle, vibrating against each other. She’s going into shock. Oliver quickly shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it around her shoulders. Another minute goes by until the shots quiet.

“We have to run now!”

“You can’t, like, count to three or something?”

“Three!”

Then they’re running. His arms are around Felicity and every part of him is shielding as much of her as possible. They’re almost to the pillar when the next bullet is shot at them. It misses but just barely.

As they make it to the marble column, Oliver pulls Felicity around to push her against it, crowding her in with his body. He can feel her hands clutching onto his dress shirt and holding him close.

There’s movement on the other side of the room. The hired event security storm in, guns drawn. Two men are quickly taken down and do not get back up. The rest of the unit splits into groups, one sweeping the main floor and the other running up the stairs to the secondary level. Shots are no longer being fired but the room still remains in chaos.

“Oliver. Oliver, we have to find Thea and your parents!”

He wants to. He wants nothing more than to search the ballroom and make sure his family is okay. But Felicity was the target. For some reason the shots were aimed at her. Bringing her out in the open would be like signing her death warrant right now.

“We can’t move until the area has been secured.”

“What? Thea is my best friend, your sister! We have to go find her!”

Frantically, Felicity attempts to push her way past Oliver. It’s a feeble attempt seeing as he’s at least twice her size. She continues to fight him on it until he wraps one arm around her waist and places the other on the column behind her head then forces her back.

“Felicity! The shots were aimed at you.” That freezes her in place.

“What? No.”

“I saw the sight indicator on me before it disappeared behind your head. That’s how I knew what was about to happen. Whoever was firing those rounds was firing at you.”

“I – I don’t understand. Why would someone try to kill me?” Her shaking from earlier increases causing Oliver to tighten his hold.

“I don’t know. All I do know is that it’s not safe for you to be out in the open until security gives the okay. Do you understand?” She nods mutely, wide eyes quickly filling with moisture, and buries her face in his chest.

The room starts to calm. Looking around Oliver can see the guards reconvening. They check on a few scared party guests and begin searching for evidence. The few that went upstairs descend without a suspect in hand. His eyes catch sight of Thea with Tommy and Laurel on the other end of the room. They look shaken but unharmed and Oliver lets out a sigh of relief.

“Thea is with Tommy and Laurel. She‘s okay.” Felicity’s shoulders sag in relief and he feels her death grip on his shirt loosen.

“The cops just got here. Security is briefing them on what happened. It looks like they lost the shooter.”

They stand like that for a few more minutes. All of his senses are hyperaware of their surroundings but he doesn’t feel the presence of a threat anymore. Years in the Army have honed his instincts to be vigilant. Sure enough, the cops give the all clear shortly after and everyone begins to seek out their company for the night.

“Come on. It’s safe now.”

Oliver releases his hold on Felicity but grabs her hand to keep her close. He leads her across the room to where Thea, Tommy, and Laurel stand. The second Thea sees the pair she runs towards them.

“Lis! Ollie! Oh my God you’re okay!” She wraps her best friend in a hug before repeating the action with her brother.

“Are you hurt, Thea? Did you get hit?”

He let’s go of Felicity’s hand, still making sure she remains close to his side, and reaches out to cradle Thea’s cheeks in his palms.

“No, no I’m fine. I was over by the buffet on the side of the room with Tommy and Laurel when it happened. Wait! Ollie you’re bleeding!”

Damn it. He forgot about the bullet that nicked his shoulder.

“It’s fine. Just a graze.”

“No it’s not, you’re hurt!”

Thea reaches out and grabs Oliver’s arm, turning him so she can examine the wound.

“Oh thank goodness you are all okay.” Moira rushes over to join the group, Robert in tow.

“Oliver’s not, he got shot.”

“I told you it’s fine. It barely grazed me. I have had much worse before this. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been shot.”

Everyone stills, not yet comfortable with the topic even if they already knew about it. Thea gives up her scrutiny after that.

The Starling City police show up a few minutes later. Security briefs them on what happened before the cops begin searching for evidence and taking statements. Oliver spots Laurel’s father, Detective Quentin Lance, making his way over to them.

“Laurel, sweetheart, are you okay?” The concerned father gently takes hold of his daughter’s arms and checks her over.

“I’m fine, dad. Oliver might need some medical attention though.” Quentin’s gaze shifts to Oliver’s bloodied shoulder.

“What happened to you?”

“It’s just a surface wound. I was caught in the fire. Felicity and I were in the middle of the dance floor when the shots went off. I think they were aiming for her.”

His response is straight forward, like he has been trained to do.

“And why would they be aiming at Ms. Smoak? You got any felonies you wanna tell me about, kid?”

“No, sir. I honestly don’t know why I would be a target.” Felicity’s voice shakes slightly, pushing Oliver to take a step closer to her.

“We can’t be sure until it’s properly analyzed, but it looks like the bullets have a signature make. It matches the M.O. for the Italian organized crime group. You piss anyone off in there?”

The Italian mob has had a strong presence in Starling since before Oliver joined the Army. It mainly deals with business tycoons and other shady corporate contracts. Why anyone involved in that would wish harm on Felicity he has no idea.

“No. I wasn’t even sure if the mob was real or at least still active.”

“Okay. Well I’m going to need to take statements from both of you.” Quentin gestures between Oliver and Felicity and pulls them aside to take their statements.

One hour later they are finally in the town car on the way back to the mansion. Oliver hasn’t let Felicity out of his sight and insisted everyone else take a separate car.

Someone tried to kill Felicity and could very well still be trying to. He doesn’t want to risk anyone else getting hurt but also he doesn’t trust anyone else to take care of her if the gunman comes after her again tonight.

Felicity is terrified. Oliver watches her across the backseat of the car and can see her attempting to hold herself together. He can still see the shaking in her clenched hands and wants to reach out to comfort her. But he doesn’t know where they stand after their conversation that was unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, cut short.

“Why would someone be trying to kill me?”

Felicity’s voice comes out soft and meek. She’s staring out the window at the passing traffic as they drive through the city. Orange light cast by lampposts illuminates the side of her face Oliver can see. She nervously clasps and unclasps her hands in her lap, absentmindedly playing with her fingers and shaking out her hands.

“I don’t know, Felicity.” There’s a pain in his chest at seeing her like this when he can’t do anything about it.

“I mean I know people are angry with my mother and her trial is coming up but Detective Lance said the M.O. was similar to...” She pauses to take a breath before continuing. “My mother isn’t being tried for involvement with the mob. I didn’t even think they were relevant anymore. Of course the whole thing about a mob is that no one ever actually catches them doing anything. You only know the reputation and hear the stories. The point is, how does my mother being tried for large scale embezzlement have anything to do with an organized crime group? It couldn't be because of that but it's the only thing I can think of.”

“I don’t know, but I swear to you, Felicity, we will figure this out.”

She turns to look at him then and he can see the tear tracks on her face.

“What if we can’t?”

Oliver doesn’t even hesitate before grabbing Felicity and pulling her to him. The shaking he saw in her hands spreads to her whole body, but she doesn’t sob. Instead, silent tears slowly slip out as he tucks her into his side. He welcomes her warmth and realizes that had he not been there, dancing with her, she could very well be dead. This realization causes him to pull her closer; her tiny frame nestled into his. You would think that with such a large height and size difference, standing even in heels the top of her head barely meets his chin, that they wouldn’t fit as well as they do. But Felicity’s head tucks perfectly under his chin and her small body fits beneath his arm like she was meant to be there, two perfectly matching puzzle pieces.

“We will. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

The remainder of the car ride is spent in silence and when they arrive back at the mansion Felicity pulls away from Oliver. She doesn’t say anything to him. Actually, she doesn’t even glance at him. The sudden distance is unsettling and the push and pull from these last few days gives Oliver emotional whiplash. No more than five minutes ago she was clinging onto him in the backseat of the town car while she trembled in shock. Now she’s acting like she would rather be anywhere but here with him.

Upon entering the mansion, he sees his family waiting in the parlor for their return. Felicity thanks them for their concern before making a getaway upstairs to her room, claiming sudden exhaustion and a need to sleep off tonight’s events.

She doesn’t once look at Oliver.

Chapter Text

Felicity's party outfit: here

....

“You got me a what?”

“A body guard. This is John Diggle, my former commanding officer in the Army.”

Oliver stands outside Felicity’s bedroom door with Diggle behind him, who is clearly trying to keep his amusement from showing after seeing the look of incredulity on Felicity’s face. She stands in her doorway, arms crossed in front of her chest and leaning against the doorpost.

“You hired an officer in the Army to be my bodyguard?”

“Yes. I trust this man with my life and yours. He has the training and is starting up a local personal security business. I figured this would be a good start.”

“I’m sorry but I’m still a little stuck on the fact that you went and hired someone to basically stalk me 24/7 without asking me about it first.”

He’s not surprised that she snapped at him. She has been distant since the attempt on her life two nights ago. He should be happy about this, it’s what he wanted, to keep her at arms length and away from his inappropriate reactions to her. But it still leaves him feeling slightly unsettled, an empty feeling in his gut like someone sucker punched him.

“Whoever tried to kill you might still be out there. This way you’ll have someone to protect you at all times.”

“Oliver, I am seventeen. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I know that. He’s not here to tell you what to do, only to keep you safe.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, the mansion has round the clock security, as does QC. Seeing as those are the only two places I frequent, I’d say I’m pretty safe already.”

“I’ve seen the security at Queen Consolidated. It could definitely use some work.”

They stand in a silent stare off, both waiting for the other to break. But Oliver is stubborn and Felicity is even more so and Diggle is the one to ultimately break the silence.

“If I may interrupt your showdown of wills. Miss Smoak, I promise you will barely even notice I’m with you. I understand the situation you’re in and until the perpetrator is found it would be in your best interest to have someone around to watch your back.”

Felicity sighs in resignation and lets her arms fall to her sides.

“I don’t really have a choice in the matter, do I?”

Her question is full of reluctant acceptance as she looks to Oliver for confirmation.

“Of course you do, but I would hope that you would see that I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

“Fine. But he doesn’t come in my room or touch my computers, got it? There are some things a girl needs to keep sacred.”

Oliver gives the tiniest of smirks at that. Even in her acceptance Felicity's stubborn will remains.

“Of course, Miss Smoak. Whatever you are comfortable with.”

“And please, call me Felicity.”

“Then you can call me Diggle. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Felicity.”

Digg holds out his hand to give hers a firm shake.

“Right, it’s nice meeting you, too. And thank you, for agreeing to look out for me. I don’t want to seem unappreciative of the commitment you just made.” There’s a pause in the conversation then before Felicity continues. “Well if you don’t mind I was in the middle of getting ready for Thea’s party in a few hours so...”

Right, the party. For some reason Oliver’s sister thought that throwing a party while their parents were out for the night on business would be a great idea. They had hired extra security for the event, just in case, and staff were taking names both at the gate and the front door. Still, Oliver was nervous and as a result would be staying in to monitor the party despite Thea’s protests. It wasn’t likely that anyone would try to harm Felicity only two days after the first attempt but Oliver was not okay with taking any chances.

“Sure. Digg and I will be down the hall in the office, discussing some of your security details. If you need anything let us know.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Felicity shuts the door in his face before Oliver can say anything else.

“Do I want to know what that was about?”

Diggle was always one of the most perceptive ones in his unit.

“Probably not. Come on, the study is this way.”

As they make their way down the hall Oliver can see his friend cataloging their surroundings. He had sent Digg blueprints of the house after talking to him on the phone yesterday so he could familiarize himself with the property.

Once they enter the study, Oliver makes sure to firmly close the door before they begin.

“What do you know about her attacker that I don’t?”

Like he said, Digg is observant.

“The police said it was the Italian mob so I did some research. I think he was one of Bertinelli’s men.”

“Frank Bertinelli? The supposed mob boss? What does a young, sweet girl like Felicity have to do with him?”

“I think it has less to do with Felicity than it does with her mother.”

“You think someone is going after her for leverage? Do we know if Karen was involved with him?”

The question brings up Oliver’s irritation on the subject.

“I don’t have any solid proof, just a hunch. The police can’t even pin Bertinelli to the mob officially. I would need some sort of access to bank accounts and personal files for that. I pulled some strings at the precinct, got a copy of the crime scene report. Here, take a look.”

Oliver hands a folder with the police report over to Diggle who begins to read through it. The evidence, what little there is, all points to the mob as responsible for the hit. However, they find nothing that can help them to determine a motive or who exactly the shooter was. Without access to private files, they have nothing to help them draw up a connection between Karen Smoak and Frank Bertinelli and after hours of pouring over what little information they have, Oliver’s frustration is evident.

“There’s nothing we can do until we get our hands on the files for Karen’s case.”

“I’ll see what I can do. But in the mean time, I believe you have a party to chaperone.”

Oliver can hear the amusement in Diggle’s voice.

“When did I become old enough to be considered the responsible adult?”

“It sneaks up on you.”

….

Three hours later Oliver is kicking teenagers out of places they shouldn't be in and wondering what horrible thing he did to deserve this. Walking into Thea's room he finds his sister with the top half of her dress pushed down around her waist and her legs on either side of some boy on her bed. Oliver can’t see the kid’s hands.

"Thea!”

The pair break apart and Thea scrambles to pull her dress up as the boy tries to make himself presentable.

"God, Ollie, knock much?"

It’s obvious that she’s angry with Oliver for the interruption but he really couldn’t care less at the moment. He turns to glare at the boy and watches him visibly shrink.

"Who are you?"

The kid, who thirty seconds ago had his tongue down his baby sister's throat and his hand up her skirt, stands abruptly.

"Shane, sir."

"Hey, Shane?"

"Yeah?"

"Get out."

"Right, okay, leaving. Later, Thea."

Shane quickly grabs his phone off of the bed and hightails it out the door and down the hall.

“Call me!” Thea’s voice is casual, flirty as she bids goodbye to the kid before turning to face Oliver. "Really, big brother?”

“Thea, that boy is no good. I knew guys like that when I was your age. Hell, I was one.”

“Right, which is exactly why you shouldn’t be saying anything about my personal choices.”

Thea’s arms cross in front of her in defiance, hip popped to one side as she scowls at Oliver.

“I’m just trying to protect you.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t have your protection the last five years and I’m doing just fine so I don’t think I need it now either.”

With that Thea storms out of the room, leaving Oliver similarly frustrated. He has been trying to make amends with her since their fight when he came back. She had seemed to forgive him after the ill-fated celebration the other night but apparently he was wrong.

Sighing to himself, Oliver leaves Thea’s room to return to the party. He hasn’t been gone long but he knows from experience that things can go south quickly at gatherings like these. Walking through the hall, Oliver pauses when he hears soft cries and sniffling coming from one of the rooms.

The sight that greets him when he opens the door causes his heart to clench. Felicity is curled up on one of the chairs in the library, clutching her arms around her midsection like she’s holding herself together. One hand reaches up to push her hair away from her face and wipes at her tears.

“Felicity?”

Her head swivels towards Oliver where he is standing in the doorway and she quickly jumps up from her seat, pulling on the hem of her yellow skirt and situating the light blue lace top she’s wearing.

“Oh, hi, Oliver!”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah everything is good. I’m good. The party is good. It’s all good.”

Felicity offers him a weak smile but can’t help the small tear from slipping out. She reaches up to quickly get rid of it and draws in a long breath through her nose before letting it escape her parted lips.

Oliver walks over and lightly places a comforting hand on her bare shoulder.

“Felicity, tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t say that when you’re obviously upset. Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

She looks away from Oliver, taking a deep breath in and blowing it out slowly in an effort to compose herself.

“It’s stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“If it makes you this upset then it isn’t stupid.” He can still see the reluctance in her stance so he gestures with his head towards the door. “Come on.”

Oliver leads Felicity down the hall with a hand hovering over the small of her back.

Whatever it is that’s upsetting her, he is determined to fix. Gently, he pushes the mahogany door to his room open and motions for her to go in first. Her hesitation is not lost on him and for a moment Oliver thinks she’ll turn away. The last time they were in here his actions put her on edge, made her uncomfortable. He wouldn’t blame her for walking away.

But she doesn’t and after a moment Felicity walks past him and into the room. He shuts the door behind them before making his way over to his closet. Grabbing one of his Army sweatshirts Oliver returns to find her perched on the chair next to his couch. He doesn’t miss how her avoidance of that particular piece of furniture causes them to sit separately, distancing them from each other.

“Here, you looked cold.”

Oliver hands her the article of clothing, which she surprisingly accepts, slipping it over her head and pulling it down her body before kicking off her sandals and tucking her feet under her body.

“Thanks.”

The sweatshirt is about five times too big for Felicity. The sleeves cover her hands and the bottom of it reaches past the hemline of her skirt. It gives the illusion that the only thing she has on right now is his sweatshirt. A wave of heat and possessiveness crashes over him, his hands clench to keep from reaching out and doing something he will regret. Right now this is about comforting Felicity.

“So, what happened?”

She bites her lip in hesitation, looking down at her hands and playing with the ring on her finger.

“God, this is going to sound so dumb and trivial when I say it out loud.”

He doubts that. Anything that makes her upset like this would never be “dumb” or “trivial” to him.

“I still want to hear it.”

“Ugh, it’s just this guy.” Oliver stiffens immediately. “His name is Ed and he goes to MIT with me. I met him in my one business class I took my second semester. Which, why I have to take a business class as a Computer Science and Programming major I’m not entirely sure. I guess it’s good to learn how to sell my services and myself to others. As in my computer skills! Not like sell myself on the corner or anything. Although I bet that makes good money and in cash so yay for no taxes.”

“Felicity.” He says her name gently, to remind her of the explanation she was supposed to be giving.

“Right, sorry. So I met Ed and he was really sweet. We went on a few dates but ultimately decided to stay friends. But, uhm, he’s from around here and home for the summer and I mentioned him to Thea so I guess she thought it would be a good idea to invite him tonight.” She pauses to take a breath before continuing. “And it was good to see him, at first. We started talking and catching up and it was nice. Until he started getting really close, really touchy feely.”

Oliver is going to find this kid and beat him to a pulp.

“He didn’t physically do anything to me but I told him he was making me uncomfortable. He, uh, said something really nasty to me that I never expected to hear from him and it hurt a lot more than I thought it would.”

“What did he say to you?”

“Uhm, he just made fun of me for being, uh, God this is really awkward, he said something about my sexual inexperience, that’s all.”

Two things hit Oliver nearly simultaneously after her confession. First, he wants to find this Ed kid and murder him for what he did to Felicity. He could do it, too. Years of Army training taught him a thing or twenty about how to kill a person. The second thing that Oliver realizes is that Felicity more or less just admitted to him that she is a virgin or at least limited in experience when it comes to sex. He really is a creepy old man.

His fists clench in anger at this Ed kid and disgust at himself.

“Is he still here?” The words escape Oliver in an intimidating growl.

“No. I got him a cab to go home. He was really drunk. I don’t think he ever would have said that to me if he was sober.” A tear makes its way down Felicity’s cheek before she brushes at it and turns her head away from Oliver. “I mean I know I’m not the most experienced ever but we still did stuff together, just because we didn’t have sex…”

 She trails off and wraps her arms around herself.

“Hey, anyone who puts you down for that reason is a jerk on a level all his own and not worth your tears. Felicity, you’re remarkable. Don’t let anyone tell you or make you feel differently.”

Oliver wants to reach out for her. He wants to comfort her and make sure she knows that she’s so much better than that asshole. But he can’t because she very clearly put a distance between them and he isn’t going to cross that and make her uncomfortable when she’s already upset. Her trust and honesty with him is more important. It’s always been easy for Oliver to open up to Felicity. He wants her to feel the same way with him.

The sound of something shattering in the hall breaks the silence.

“I guess I should go take care of that. You can stay in here if you would like, watch a movie or something. I’m pretty sure there’s some ice cream leftover in the mini fridge.”

“Mint chip?”

“Of course.”

That earns him a small smile from her.

“Then how could I resist?”

“I’ll be back as soon as whatever just happened is straightened out. You’ll be okay in here?”

Felicity is already standing to make her way over to where the ice cream is.

“I think I can manage.” He’s halfway out the door when she calls to him. “Hey Oliver?”

Turning around he sees her standing by the couch, ice cream in hand and body swimming in his sweatshirt. One of her hands reaches up to timidly tuck a piece of golden hair behind her ear.

“Thank you.”

“It was nothing. I’ll be back soon.”

With that Oliver goes to see what damage control he can do, closing the door firmly behind him. He also finds Digg and asks him to keep an eye on his room.

….

Soon ends up being two hours later once the last of the partygoers have gone home for the evening. Oliver finally makes his way up the grand staircase and down the long hallway to his bedroom where he finds Diggle standing watch.

“Is Felicity still in there?”

He had been so sure that she would have gone back to her room by now.

“Yeah. She fell asleep and I didn’t want to move her until necessary.”

Digg and his wife, Lyla, were both members of the U.S. Army. They didn’t have children of their own, but Oliver can remember him talking about his nephew AJ with great fondness. He has always exuded a sort of big brother attitude toward those he cares about and it is quickly becoming obvious that Felicity is no exception to that rule, even if they only just met. Oliver doesn’t blame him. She has this air about her that makes people want to protect her and shelter her from everything bad in the world. For Oliver that sometimes includes himself and his baser urges where she’s concerned.

“Leave her. She’s had a rough couple of days. You are more than welcome to stay in one of the guest bedrooms tonight.”

“Thanks, Queen. I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

“Do you need me to show you the way?”

“No, unlike this one guy I know I actually study blueprints when they’re given to me.”

“One time and I never hear the end of it.”

Oliver laughs and Digg joins him, for once remembering the good times instead of what sent them both home.

“Alright, man, get some rest. Dealing with teenagers isn’t easy work either.”

Digg claps Oliver on the back before heading down the hall and turning the corner into the guest wing.

Silently opening the door, Oliver enters his room. The TV is off, he suspects Digg must have done that, and there’s an empty carton of ice cream sitting on the wooden table in front of the couch. Felicity lies across it, wrapped tightly in a huge fleece and velvet blanket and clutching a pillow she must have stolen off of his bed. The couch itself is big enough that she could stretch out and still have more than enough room but she’s curled into herself. Lying there fast asleep she looks young, innocent. It makes Oliver that much more disgusted with himself for the uncontrollable feelings he has been having about her. For a second he debates moving her to the bed while he takes the couch, but he doesn’t want to wake her or invade her personal space when she’s so vulnerable so he decides against it.

Quickly grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt from one of his drawers, Oliver walks into the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. Changing in his room and risk Felicity waking up while he’s doing so is not something he is going to chance.

Once he’s gone through his nightly routine, Oliver slips out of the bathroom and checks on Felicity one more time before crawling into bed.

For once sleep consumes him quickly

….

“You shouldn’t have come here without back up.”

“I did come with back up. I have Slade.”

“You know what I mean. Does the Sargent even know you’re here?”

His silence is the only answer she needs.

“Oliver, this is dangerous. You and Slade need to leave. Come back with the unit once you’ve come up with a plan.”

“I’m not leaving here without you.”

Suddenly there’s a commotion coming from outside the room they’re in.

“You need to go or they’ll kill you and Slade, too! Get out of here, Oliver!”

“I can’t – “

Someone bursts through the door and Oliver aims his gun right at the man’s chest, finger on the trigger.

“It’s just me kid but we need to go.”

“Her restraints aren’t done yet.”

“What do you mean they’re not done? You had a minute! Damn it.”

Quickly the two soldiers work to release their fellow comrade just as guards begin to round the corner.

“Time to go.”

The three soldiers run out into the hall, Oliver handing her one of his extra guns. Slade covers their backs as they make their escape.

“Which way?”

“Down the hall, second right, first left, then fourth room down on the right.”

They’re halfway down the second hall when Oliver hears her scream as she falls to the ground with a thud, clutching her abdomen and stirring up dirt that dries out his throat and causes his eyes to water. He stops to help her up but she yells in pain at the movement.

Suddenly they’re surrounded and the shots stop firing.

“Oliver, go.”

She pants out the words in agony as blood stains her already soiled clothes a dark red, almost black and seeps onto her hands.

“No.”

“Oliver!”

There’s a loud bang and a searing pain in his chest. Looking down he sees his own blood spring forth from his chest in an imitation of some sick, demented flower.

Bewildered, Oliver reaches down to touch his wound but his hand comes away clean.

“I don’t understand.”

The room spins and suddenly it’s filled with the sounds of screams. High pitched, hysterical shrieks of pain and low gasps of torment. They swirl around him like ghosts, impossible to see but their presence all-consuming. It overwhelms him until it’s the only thing he knows; screeches of torture and anguish and loss, and he can’t distinguish one voice from the other anymore.

“Stop! Please! Make it stop! Stop! STOP!”

“Stop! Oliver, wake up! ”

He grabs the hands on his shoulders and pushes whoever it is down onto the bed, pinning them with his lower body on their legs and slamming their hands to the mattress.

“Oliver, look at me. It’s me. It’s Felicity. You are okay. Everything is okay.”

The sound of her voice pulls him back to the edge of rationality.

“You were dreaming, okay? It was just a dream. Look at me.”

And he does. His blue eyes meet hers and it brings him clarity. He scrambles off of her and the bed entirely in record time, staring at Felicity in horror. Now she probably thinks that not only is he a creep but also a violent monster. She must be terrified of him. He doesn’t know what to say, what to do. But he doesn’t have to because Felicity is walking towards him slowly.

“Oliver? It’s okay you didn’t hurt me.”

Hesitantly, she reaches out to lightly place a hand in the inside of his elbow.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

He shakes his head no.

“Okay, why don’t you sit down on the bed? I’ll be right back.”

Felicity waits for confirmation that he heard her before she scurries out of the room.

Oliver begins to calm himself down. This isn’t the first time that his dreams have woken him like this and it won’t be the last. When five minutes pass and Felicity doesn’t return Oliver has resigned himself to the fact that he’s finally scared her off for good, until she comes back in with a cup of something steaming and delicious smelling in her hands.

“Here, drink this.”

He accepts the mug from her outstretched hands and brings it to his mouth. She climbs onto the other side of the bed to face him, sitting with her legs crossed and her hands in her lap. The taste of cream and chocolate floods his taste buds as he drags a sip from the mug.

“It’s hot cocoa. It used to help my dad with his nightmares.”

“Thank you.”

They sit in silence as he drinks. She has a look of concentration on her face, studying Oliver. It makes him slightly uncomfortable so he avoids eye contact choosing instead to stare down at the warm liquid in the mug.

“You know it’s not uncommon, right? To have nightmares after coming back from the war? My dad, when he came back after his first tour, he used to have them. I remember one night I snuck into my parents’ room; I must have had a bad dream or something. I walked in and my dad was crying and I didn’t understand. He was my dad; strong, brave, funny, a soldier in every sense of the word. I thought he was invincible, that nothing could ever scare him. But there he was, crying and holding on to my mom like he was drowning and she was his life vest, the only thing keeping him from getting pulled under. I remember crawling into bed with them and hugging him tightly, thinking I could chase away the monsters that made him cry. I asked him about them so that we could think of ways to make them go away. Of course looking back, it wasn’t that simple, but I think it was what he needed because he started talking again. He started to tell stories about what happened. He would change details and make them into these elaborate fairytales so that he wouldn’t scare four-year-old me but I understood, at a certain level, and even though I was so young and was in no position to help, I think opening up was good for him.”

By the time she’s finished, tears have made their way to her eyes. She pulls the sleeve of Oliver’s sweatshirt over the heel of her hand and uses it to dab at them.

“Sorry, it’s been ten years since he died during his second tour, but it’s still hard to talk about him sometimes. The point is you don’t have to go through this by yourself, Oliver. You’re not alone. I’m not saying you have to open up and tell your deepest, darkest secrets and fears, but even sharing a little bit might make it slightly easier to bear.”

She speaks with sincerity; concern and kindness shining in her bright blue, watery eyes.

It’s times like these when Oliver forgets how young Felicity is. She’s so intelligent and speaks with maturity beyond her nearly eighteen years. When he was her age all Oliver cared about was girls and partying and Thea. Topics anywhere near this depth were avoided at all costs. Even now, talking doesn’t come easy to him, granted for much different reasons than those of his young adolescent self. But here Felicity is, talking about her late father and still being the one to offer comfort. She’s so much stronger than him and he pulls from that strength.

“Can I show you something?”

He’s not ready to talk about his most prominent nightmares, but he can share one piece of his pain with her.

“Of course.”

Reaching for the hem of his shirt Oliver pauses. For a moment he contemplates forgetting this whole thing once he realizes that showing her this is going to put her into close contact with his bare skin.

“It’s okay if you’re not ready, Oliver.”

Then he turns away and pulls his shirt up and over his head. He can hear Felicity’s sharp intake of breathe as she catches sight of the scars on his back and makes no move to turn back around to face her. Sitting in silence he lets her take in the angry scaring and mottled skin of his back. There’s a gentle pressure on his shoulder and he jumps slightly at the contact.

“Sorry.”

Felicity apologizes quietly and pulls her hand away.

“No, it’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting it. You can…”

He trails off, letting her finish the sentence mentally.

Felicity reaches back out to place the tips of her fingers on his right shoulder blade. Gently her fingers trace diagonally across his back, following the puckered skin down to the bottom of his left ribcage. Her touch is light but it burns where she touches, like she’s branding him with her fingers.

This isn’t like the brief, indistinct wandering of hands he experienced with Sara after his homecoming. That was frantic and there was a definite absence of deep emotion then, his scars barely visible in his darkened bedroom. Now, however, everything is laid bare in the moonlight for Felicity to see. He feels vulnerable but not weak, a coupling he always thought of as going hand in hand.

“How… if you don’t mind me asking that is, how did this happen?”

She follows the scar back up to the top, leaving her hand to rest gently on his back. The warmth of it seeping into his skin steadies him.

“One of the camps I was stationed at was right outside of a small village that had accepted our aid. Some of the local children liked to pass a soccer ball we gave them around and sometimes we would play with them. Members from one of the oppressive Afghani groups were in the village one day and saw us. They were furious and came at the children to pull them away, some using violent force. I was trying to disarm one of the men who was waving a gun around when another guy came up behind me and sliced me with a blade.”

Oliver tries to detach himself from the memory, to stay clinical in his explanation. But the frightened cries of the children still echo in his ears.

Felicity’s hand travels back down the scar, palm flattening out this time in an almost soothing gesture. Her fingers then brush the side of his ribcage and he sucks in a breath. She lightly taps on the small, jagged white line there.

“What about this one?”

“Stab wound. This guy, he was mistreating a woman and I stepped in. It wasn’t much of a fight but he had a knife and managed to get one in.”

Again, her palm flattens over the scar for a moment. Then Oliver feels her shifting onto her knees behind him. He clenches his fists as the distance between them shrinks and he feels her let out a light puff of air. The warmth from it just kisses his pulse point. Her finger tips land on his left shoulder, sweeping over a red circular wound. This time, her fingers trace around the scar in a constant, spherical motion.

“Bullet wound?”

“9mm bullet, standard handgun. We were ambushed when searching through a village we assumed to be abandoned.”

As she did with the previous two, Felicity presses her palm to the wound. However, this time she slides her hand down to rest on the smooth skin of his top left shoulder blade. He knows what she’s going to ask about before she says it.

Quickly, Oliver pulls away and yanks his shirt on, covering the ink dragon on his back where her hand had been mere seconds ago.

“I’m not ready to talk about that just yet.”

He turns to looks at her and finds her eyes full of understanding.

“Okay.”

Felicity pushes herself back to rest against the headboard of the bed and pats the other side for Oliver to join her. He shifts to mirror her position in the indicated space, making certain to leave a good foot of space in between them. He doesn’t trust himself after feeling her hands on his bare skin. Even in a situation lacking sexual intent it set his body aflame. The need to feel her is stronger than it almost ever has been and he struggles to resist reaching out and crushing her body to his.

“Tell me about something good that happened.”

For a second, Oliver is caught up by her question. Everyone always wanted to hear about his tough battles and war struggles. No one really asked him about the good times and he tends to forget about them amongst all of the bad.

“Like what?”

“Like how did you meet Mr. Diggle?”

“I actually knew him before I enlisted. It was pure coincidence that I ended up being assigned to his unit over in Afghanistan.”

“Really? When?”

“Remember when I first met you? We had that awful brunch during which my parents threatened to cut me off?” She nods her head in assent before he continues. “Well I went out that night and, for lack of a better way to put it, got completely shitfaced. Tommy had to bail me out in the morning from the police station for assaulting an officer. Digg was in the station while I was waiting for Tommy to pay my bail. He was in uniform and I got this crazy idea to go talk to him. So I did. I asked him why he chose the Army and gave him a shallow summary of where I was in my life. But by the end of our brief conversation I was convinced that wasn’t something I would ever go through with and I pretty much forgot all about it.”

“So what changed your mind?”

“I was in a bar fight a couple of weeks later. Some guy was hitting on Laurel and making her uncomfortable. I tried to intervene and things got violent. I almost hospitalized the man because I was so angry. It wasn’t just anger at him I was expelling. I was angry at my mom and my dad and where I was going in life, which was pretty much nowhere. That anger consumed me. By some crazy chance of fate Digg was there. He pulled me out and talked me down. He shared his story with me about how his brother had died in Special Forces and he was angry for a long time, hanging in a sort of free fall. Choosing the Army allowed him to channel those feelings he had of anger and lack of direction into something good, something he was proud of. Then I remembered something you had said to me that day we met. I don’t know if you remember but after I said I didn’t want to follow the path my parents had set for me you asked me what I wanted to do with my life. I told you I didn’t know. You said to me that I should do what made me feel good about myself and what I was doing, that would make me happy and – “

“Happy and proud of yourself. I remember that. We were in the tree house, right? Well, I was. You were hanging on the ladder.”

She smiles fondly at the memory and so does Oliver. Even then at age twelve Felicity had surprised him with her insight that went far beyond her years. He remembers being glad that Thea had a friend like her before he left, someone he knew would keep her out of trouble and look out for her no matter what.

“Right. So, Digg gave me his card after that, said he was shipping back out in a few days but if I thought about joining and came to a decision before then to call him. A couple of days later I dialed his number and signed up for Basic Training.”

“That sounds a lot like fate to me.”

Oliver can’t help but agree.

They spend the next few hours laying on his bed and talking about their good memories from the past five years. Felicity tells him about the day she was accepted to MIT full-ride. Oliver tells her about a joke he and Slade played on Digg that ended in them having to clean the facilities for a month. Felicity shares the story about her one and only experience with drugs at her first college party during which she unknowingly ate a weed brownie with nuts in it and had an allergic reaction. Oliver embarrassingly admits to having his ass kicked more than a few times in Basic Training and then again by Slade at their base. The exchange of stories continues into the early hours of the morning until the exhaustion claims them and light from the rising sun begins to seep in through the curtains.

Chapter Text

Felicity's outfits: brunch, fundraiser

Sara's outfit: fundraiser

....

As Oliver begins to stir, he is surprised to find that the reason for his waking is not the usual terror of memories turned nightmares. Instead, it’s a steady stream of sunlight that beams through the small opening in the curtains and onto his face that wakes him from his sleep. That’s the first thing he notices that is out of place.

The second, and more conspicuous of the two, is that there is a warm body pressed against his side and a blonde head lying on the space between his shoulder and his chest. Felicity. Sometime late into the night, or early depending on how you look at it, they must have both fallen asleep and shifted their positions. The distance he was sure to keep between them is now completely eliminated as she snuggles into his side with a hand on his chest, right above his beating heart. His left arm is tucked underneath her shoulders and wrapped around her tiny frame, palm resting on her ribcage over the fabric of his sweatshirt.

She’s soft and warm against him and there is absolutely no chance of controlling his body’s reaction to her. It is morning after all.

Oliver tries to shift slightly and prays to God that she is a sound sleeper. Maybe then he can slip away and avoid the awkward situation that is sure to come up, he groans at the unintentional and completely inappropriate pun, when she wakes. Luck, it would seem, is not on his side because the second his arm starts to move from underneath her, Felicity shifts closer. Her left knee rises slightly to rest on his outer thigh, dangerously close to where he is beginning to strain against his pants. Her skirt from last night has disappeared, revealing more of her bare skin, which might just cause him to hyperventilate.

Felicity turns further into him, pressing her body even closer to his and sighing in contentment as she settles. It would be sweet if he weren’t busy worrying about his growing arousal and what her reaction would be to finding it.

He needs to wake her up. Right now.

“Felicity.” Gently he shakes her shoulders, trying to rouse her as gently as possible. “Felicity, wake up.”

“Ten minutes…”

He chuckles lightly at her refusal to fully wake up. Her brow crinkles and her nose scrunches in the most adorable way as she pulls herself even closer with the hand curled in the front of his shirt and the leg she has draped over his.

“It’s already ten o’clock. Come on, Felicity.”

“Thea… don’t care ‘bout stupid sale… lemme sleep.”

Thea. That causes him to freeze. His sister will most definitely be looking for her best friend soon. It’s Sunday and his parents will be back for brunch which means Thea will most likely want to play dress up with Felicity. If she saw them like this…

“I’m definitely not Thea. But you do need to wake up and go back to your room before she realizes you’re not there.”

That seems to do the trick because Felicity’s eyes snap open and she pushes so far away that she nearly falls off the bed. Oliver takes this opportunity to quickly pull the duvet over his lap to hide his straining erection from her.

“Oh my God, Oliver! I am so sorry! Oh I really hope I didn’t drool on you. Not that I drool a lot in my sleep but you know that’s always what people worry about in books and movies. That would really be so embarrassing. And wow I basically cuddle-attacked you in your sleep. Did I mention I was sorry?”

“It’s okay. You didn’t drool on me. Don’t worry. But you do need to get back to your room before Thea realizes you are missing and comes looking for you.”

“Right, because she would probably assume that me and you… you know what never mind I’m just gonna go.”

Felicity quickly scurries over to the couch to grab her sandals and skirt; thankfully it appears she was wearing shorts under it last night. Then she’s rushing out of the door and down the hall.

This is getting out of hand. Last night when Oliver had found Felicity crying he didn’t think, he just acted. He forgot the distance she had put between them, forgot how it was supposed to be a good thing. All he had wanted to do was make her smile again, to see that hurt expression disappear.

Then he let her sleep on his couch. He really should have known better. Sleeping in the same room as the girl that you uncontrollably fantasize about is never a good idea. Doing that when you’re prone to nightmares that wake you up screaming is an even worse one. There was no way of controlling things from there and somehow Felicity had turned the tables and ended up being the one to comfort him. It was so very Felicity of her that Oliver can’t say he’s surprised.

What does surprise him is how much he shared with her. The scars he bears on his body speak of his trials and his struggles. The only people who know all of the stories behind them are dead, except for Diggle. They hold his secrets and his stories that until last night, he was unwilling to share. He’s still not willing to tell her everything, as was evident by his reaction when her hand grazed the tattoo on his shoulder.

Oliver quickly stops his thoughts from wandering to how her soft hands felt on his bare skin. He’s already hard as a result of the morning and her impromptu cuddling session. The last thing he needs is to think about the way her hands trailed across his back and up his side. Or how her breath felt, hot and wet, against the back of his neck. He stiffens further at the memory and decides that a cold shower is definitely necessary. His mind flashes to her leg pressed up against his thigh as he attempted to wake her up. Yeah, he’s going to need the coldest setting.

As he sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed his door flies open and slams back shut with a bang.

“Oliver Queen, you hypocrite!”

He just about jumps out of his skin at the sound of Thea’s angry shout as she charges towards him.

“Do you know what I just saw? No, don’t talk, I’ll tell you. I just saw Felicity leaving your room in your sweatshirt!”

“Thea, it’s not – “

“Shut up I wasn’t finished. Who do you think you are to go around criticizing me for having some fun with a boy my age when you have Felicity in your bedroom?! I know you liked to sleep around a lot before but seriously, Ollie? Felicity? She is my best friend!”

“Speedy! Whatever you think happened, you’re wrong.”

He needs to nip this in the bud before it gets any worse.

“Oh, so it wasn’t Felicity sneaking, well trying to, out of your room wearing your sweatshirt with her shoes and skirt in hand?”

He reaches up to rub his temples with the thumb and forefinger of his right hands as he feels a headache start to set in.

“No, it was. But not for the reason you are thinking.”

“Then please, explain what happened because it looked awfully suspicious to me.”

“You know that guy you invited from her school who lives around here?”

“Ed? Yeah, I thought it would be good for Felicity to get some action since she’s usually all work and no play with her internship and everything. Why?”

Momentarily Oliver is distracted by the thought of Thea calling this boy for Felicity as a, for lack of a better description, booty call. Anyone who makes her that upset shouldn’t be allowed close enough to touch her like that.

“Well, I found her crying because of him. I let her stay in my room and she fell asleep watching TV on the couch. She was in my sweatshirt because it was cold and I gave it to her so she would be comfortable. That’s all.”

Thea looks Oliver over skeptically, assessing if what he is telling her is the truth or an elaborate lie. Whatever she sees must convince her that he isn’t lying because her scrutiny lessens. His gut unknots in his stomach and he relaxes slightly. What he said was the truth. He just failed to mention what happened later in the night.

“Okay. Maybe I overreacted a little bit. You would never do that to Felicity. She’s practically family and like half your age.”

Thea’s comment leaves him unsettled and puts a sour taste in his mouth.

“No, she’s not. She’s almost eighteen.”

“Eighteen, thirty, it’s still a pretty big age difference. Anyway, that’s not important. The reason I was on my way to your room was to tell you to get ready. Mom and dad got back about an hour ago and apparently we’re having guests over for brunch.”

“Great. Anyone I know?”

“Does the last name Bowen ring a bell?”

“Ah, Carter Bowen, the perfect son.”

Also, a complete pretentious douchebag in Oliver’s opinion.

“The one and only, according to mom.”

Thea smirks at the running joke she and Oliver shared as kids and he replies in a mock interpretation of their mother.

“Carter Bowen just won the national chess championship. Carter Bowen is anchoring the debate team.”

“Oliver, Carter just got accepted into Harvard AND Princeton.”

“Well that’s because he got a perfect score on his SATs.”

“Now, how did he manage to study and cure cancer?”

They laugh together at that and for a second Oliver thinks that maybe things between him and Thea aren’t as bad as he thought.

“Now don’t even try to get out of this because I already did. Mom shot me down and made me promise that you, Felicity, and I would all be there. Although I don’t think Felicity has the same problem with Carter that we do.”

She says the last comment offhand and with a roll of her eyes but it stops Oliver short.

“What do you mean?”

“She used to have this silly crush on him when we were younger. I remember one time when we were I think fourteen the Bowens came over for dinner and Felicity blushed the color of a tomato when he greeted her. I tried to tell her he was a total asshat but whatever I’m sure she’s over it now. Anyway, go get ready. Mom said they would be here around eleven.”

With that Thea leaves the room, crisis averted. Only now he’s occupied with a completely different situation. Felicity had, might still have, a crush on Carter Bowen. For some reason the thought causes Oliver to tense up. He doesn’t like it and he’s not entirely sure why he feels like this. But he does.

At least he won’t have to take a freezing cold shower anymore.

….

Thirty minutes later Oliver walks down the stairs to find his family and the Bowens gathered in the parlor, mimosas in hand aside from Thea and Felicity. He avoids eye contact with the latter.

“Good, Oliver you’re here. You remember the Bowens, don’t you?”

Moira places a hand on Oliver’s back and gently ushers him forward to greet Janice and Carter Bowen.

“Of course. It is lovely to see you again, Mrs. Bowen.”

“Oh we are just happy you made it back safely. You know so many young people go off to war and unfortunately don’t return – “ Moira cuts her off midsentence.

“Yes, well, we’re glad he’s home.”

“Mhm, and returning celebrity, too.”

Oliver accepts Carter’s offered hand of greeting. He may or may not grip it with slightly more force than necessary.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

Raisa enters the parlor then to inform them that brunch is ready to be served. As the group makes their way to the dining room Oliver can’t help but sneak a glance at Felicity who he finds smiling at Carter with a pink tinge in her cheeks.

“Billionaire scion returns a reformed man after five years fighting for our country. There must be a bidding war for your life story, at least that’s what my agent says.”

He watches as Carter catches Felicity’s gaze and winks at her to which she turns away and blushes deeper. It would seem that her little crush had survived the years. Oliver’s hands clench tightly at his sides and they only tighten further as the group takes their seats around the table, Carter pulling Felicity’s chair out for her and taking the seat beside her. What a fucking douchebag.

“Agent? I thought you were a neurosurgeon.”

“It’s crazy how things turn out. One minute I’m publishing a book on how long term potentiation initiates the creation of a slow moving protein synthesis and the next there’s an agent trying to make me the next Dr. Oz.”

Felicity practically coos in her seat as she leans her head into her hands and it makes Oliver want to vomit. Apparently Thea feels the same way because he catches her eyes as she makes a subtle choking noise and mimes throwing up. He lets out a soft laugh at that.

“I just really think it’s our duty as Starling City’s more fortunate to help those in need. “

“What other kinds of research have you been doing, Carter?”

Felicity speaks up from where she sits. The way she says his name, all breathy, irritates Oliver more than it should.

“Well currently I’m looking into setting up a free clinic in the Glades. It’s not exactly ground breaking scientific research but I feel as though someone should do it.”

The line is delivered with practiced humility that Oliver could see through a mile away.

“No, I think that’s wonderful. The conditions there are horrible and I think the people would really benefit from a facility like that.”

“I’m glad there are people as enthusiastic about it as I am.”

They’re interrupted then as the food is brought out and placed on the table. No one talks as they tuck into their first few bites of the delicious gourmet meal.

Robert speaks up for the first time that morning.

“So, Janice, Carter, will we be seeing you this evening at the CNRI fundraiser Tommy is hosting?”

Right, that was tonight. Oliver had all but forgotten about the event his friend was hosting, the event during which Tommy was planning on proposing to Laurel. There was no doubt in Oliver’s mind that she would say yes. From what he heard over the years and has seen in person these past few weeks, his best friends are happy and they work well together. Tommy’s fun-loving and humorous personality balances out Laurel’s serious, no nonsense demeanor and vise versa. They are actually kind of a perfect match.

“Of course, Mr. Queen. The work that CNRI does is inspiring. It has the full support of the Bowen family and we wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Great. Now he is going to be spending his evening watching Dr. McDouchebag fish for compliments and not so subtly brag about his work. Admittedly the mental nickname is childish at best but it’s an apt description in Oliver’s eyes.

Felicity lets out a small sigh from where she is seated.

He doesn’t feel so bad about the nickname anymore.

….

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“Tommy, stop freaking out. She is going to say yes.”

“You don’t know that!”

Oliver, Thea, and Felicity stand to the side of the simply decorated ballroom with Tommy who is in the midst of a breakdown over his proposal plans. It’s ridiculous that he is acting this way. Tommy and Laurel have been together for nearly four years. Oliver would be shocked if she didn’t already know about his plans for the evening.

“You said she has been dropping hints for months.”

“She has. Tommy, last week she asked me and Thea for our opinions on winter versus summer weddings.”

Felicity tries to assure Tommy as he shifts his weight, his right hand fidgeting with the velvet box in his pocket.

“I could have misinterpreted what she was saying. Maybe she really did just think that townhome was nice or that Kate Middleton’s dress with the lace back was pretty.”

Thea rolls her eyes at Tommy’s logic. No woman talks about that with her boyfriend unless she’s considering it. Especially not a woman like Laurel.

“Pull yourself together, Merlyn. I’m pretty sure she would have dumped you by now if she didn’t want to marry your ass.”

Oliver places a supporting hand on his best friend’s shoulder before looking him dead in the eye.

“Laurel loves you, Tommy. She will say yes.”

“Okay…”

Tommy lets out a deep sigh and beings to relax slightly. Then his eyes grow wide and stares at Oliver in horror as if something awful just occurred to him.

“What if she doesn’t like the ring?”

“Oh for the love of God! I need a drink just talking to you.”

Thea snags two champagne flutes off of a passing tray and hands one to Felicity while keeping the other for herself. Oliver throws his sister a disapproving glance but she only raises an eyebrow in challenge before taking a sip. They have other things to deal with right now so he turns backs to Tommy.

But he keeps an eye on Thea and Felicity, who hasn’t taken a sip yet and seems content just to hold the glass in her hand.

“It’s your mother’s ring. She’s going to love it.”

“Who is going to love what?”

The group whips their heads around to find the woman they were just discussing walking up to them. Tommy’s eyes zero in on her and Oliver can see that she has his full attention. He can also see that Tommy’s nerves are getting the best of him so he speaks up on the behalf of his friend while Felicity hands Tommy the drink she’s holding. He needs it more than her.

“Oh, Tommy was just worried that you wouldn’t like the decorations, that’s all.”

“Babe, everything is perfect. I love it.” Laurel places a hand on Tommy’s chest and leans up to softly press her lips to his. “And I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Seeing his best friends now, Oliver is glad they finally came together. The love between them is obvious and he’s seen how they’ve both changed for the better since their initial hook up. There is no way in hell that Laurel would turn down Tommy’s proposal.

“Oh God, Sis, don’t get all mushy like that when there’s company around. Poor people’s teeth are probably rotting just from looking at you two.”

He turns at the sound of the familiar voice to find Sara joining their circle.

“Jerk.”

Laurel laughs teasingly at her sister but doesn’t step out of Tommy’s hold.

“Ollie, since these two are being complete saps why don’t I grab you for a dance. This is your only offer of rescue so I suggest you take it.”

“Well how can I say no when you asked so nicely? Excuse me, Laurel, Tommy.”

Oliver takes Sara’s offered hand and leads her to the dance floor. One of his hands remains in hers while the other moves to rest at her waist. The black lace dress she is wearing clings to her like a second skin and where once it would get his blood pumping and result in him dragging her to the nearest room with a lock, now he only appreciates her beauty.

“You look beautiful, Sara.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself. Now spill, what’s going on with Merlyn?”

Sara has always been perceptive. It really shouldn’t surprise him that she picked up on Tommy’s distress so quickly.

“He’s just a little… anxious about everything going smoothly this evening.”

“Oh, so he’s finally gonna pop the big question?” He raises an inquisitive eyebrow at that. “Tommy has never been one for subtlety. I was in their apartment a couple months ago. Idiot had left the ring box on their dresser. He’s lucky I found it before Laurel did.”

Of course Tommy would do that. Oliver can’t help but laugh at his best friend’s slip up.

He doesn’t even try to deny Sara’s deduction and they continue their dance until the song ends. When the music fades they pull apart and their attention is drawn to the stage at the front of the room where Tommy is currently standing, one hand holding Laurel’s who is standing next to him and the other holding a microphone to his mouth.

“Excuse me, everyone. If I could have your attention for just a moment, please.”

The room quiets as everyone turns to look at what is happening.

“First of all, I want to say thank you to everyone who has come out tonight to support CNRI.” He pauses as people applaud politely. “We have already raised so much money to help this organization keep doing what they are doing. I know that the wonderful people there really appreciate it. I may be a little biased but I think that what they do over at CNRI is pretty amazing.”

Oliver watches as his best friend’s stance quickly changes. Where just seconds ago he was the confidant Tommy Merlyn, charismatic businessman who knows how to command a room, he now fidgets and shifts his weight around, a sure sign of nerves.

“There is also something else I would like to say. You all know Laurel Lance, defense attorney at CNRI and my beautiful girlfriend of nearly four years. I just want to take a second to talk about how incredible this woman is and how lucky I am to have her in my life.”

“Laurel, we’ve been best friends since that time in kindergarten when Oliver pulled on your pigtails and you pushed him down while telling him it wasn’t nice to tease people who were smaller than him. I never told you this but I thought it was so cool that a girl did that. I’m pretty sure that’s when my crush on you started and I don’t think it ever stopped. Sure I dated other girls as we grew up and I never acted on my feelings, but I cared about you through it all more than almost anyone and I still do. You stuck by me and Ollie through thick and thin, even though you should have given up long ago. But that’s what you do. You stand by the people who need you the most, even when others would have given up and I love that. Actually, I love everything about you. And I want show you that I’m going to stand by you for the rest of my life, too.”

Laurel gasps as Tommy places the microphone back in its stand and slides down on one knee. He reaches into his pocket to pull out the velvet box that his fingers have been smoothing over since he placed it there while they got dressed early this evening. Gingerly he lifts the lid to reveal his mother’s diamond engagement ring and Oliver can see tears begin to well in Laurel’s eyes as she raises a hand to her mouth.

“I love you, Dinah Laurel Lance, and I want to spend the rest of my life by your side. So will you please do me the extraordinary honor of marrying me?”

At this point tears are streaming down Laurel’s face. She removes the hand from her mouth to reach down and cup Tommy’s cheek as a smile spreads its way across her face. Frantically she shakes her head yes and Oliver can just make out the form of the word leaving her mouth in a whisper. Then Tommy slides to ring on her finger before standing to kiss her as loud applause and small shouts ring throughout the room. An arm wraps around Laurel’s waist while the other reaches up to support her head as he dips her and she laughs into the kiss.

When they break apart and right themselves Tommy leans towards to microphone to speak.

“Wow, I didn’t think she was going to say yes.” The crowd laughs and Laurel lightly swats at his shoulder. “Thank you everyone for being here tonight and enjoy the rest of the party.”

The music starts back up and Oliver watches as Tommy pulls Laurel to the dance floor. He’s about to offer Sara another dance when Carter steps up to join them.

“That was quite the proposal. It’s so nice to see Merlyn finally straightening out and settling down.” It might just be him but Oliver thinks that maybe Dr. McDouchebag was taking a shot at him. “Sara, right? You’re Laurel’s sister?”

“Sara, you remember Carter Bowen from the academy, right?”

He might as well be the bigger person and get the introductions over with.

“Yes, it’s great to see you! Last I heard you were off curing cancer or something.”

Carter takes Sara’s offered hand and kisses the back of it. The nickname still stands.

“Not quite. I’m actually considering opening a clinic here in the Glades. But that’s not what I came over here to talk about.”

“Then what did you come over here for?”

“Well, I saw a beautiful woman in a stunning dress and was hoping I could steal her away for a dance and maybe a drink.”

Oliver expects her to say no. Sara can see through Carter’s bullshit for days. So he’s surprised when she accepts and lets him pull her towards the dance floor. It doesn’t bother him or make him jealous. The relationship he has with Sara, if you can call it that, is nowhere near romantic in nature. They’re friends, they fuck, that’s it. It was always like that before he enlisted and their tryst after his homecoming was the same. Oliver is just shocked Sara is willing to put up with the jerk.

Just then, Moira arrives at her son’s side with a man somewhere in his late forties to early fifties in tow.

“Oliver, sweetheart, there is someone I would like you to meet. This is Frank Bertinelli. Mr. Bertinelli has expressed an interest in the defense technology project.”

Frank Bertinelli, the man Oliver suspects to be connected to the Italian mob and the attempt on Felicity’s life, is standing right before him. There are only two reasons someone with this close of a connection would approach him. One is that Bertinelli really does not have anything to do with what happened the other night. The other is that this is part of his plan and that he is confident in the police’s inability to pin him to it because of how well he has covered his tracks. Oliver is betting on the latter.

Unease begins to settle within him and eyes scan the room for Felicity but he can’t find her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Oliver.”

They shake hands in greeting, sizing each other up.

A part of him begins to fill with panic because he still can’t spot Felicity anywhere in the room. He searches for the gold dress and forest green heels she was wearing when he saw her earlier but finds nothing.

“The pleasure is mine. I’m glad to hear people are interested in the project.”

Oliver attempts to suppress his panic and focus on the conversation. Digg is here with them tonight and Oliver is more than confident in his friend’s ability to take care of her. If something happened he would have found Oliver and told him so.

Right?

“I think it’s a great thing that DefenseTech is trying to do. I was glad to hear that a locally based company was taking on the challenge.”

“It’s not all set in stone yet. We’re working on the first prototypes and will be presenting the plans to DefenseTech within the next month or two and hopefully sign with them to get our funding and development underway.”

As his eyes once again scan his surroundings, they land on the form of John Diggle crossing the room to Oliver. His stance isn’t tensed and there’s no urgency that Oliver can see in the way he moves. However, he knows Digg and he knows the man can put on a convincing front.

“Well, I was hoping that maybe we could come to a sort of business agreement. My company would like to extend an offer for a partnership of sorts on the project.”

Diggle has made his way over to where they stand and clears his throat to catch their attention.

“Sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Queen, but I need to run a security detail by Oliver if you don’t mind. It’s urgent.”

Oliver turns to Bertinelli to dismiss himself, the uneasiness that he suppressed moments ago returning fast.

“I’m afraid it looks like our conversation must be cut short. Maybe we can meet some other time to discuss your offer. Enjoy your evening.”

He quickly follows Diggle as he crosses the room to an inconspicuous door on the other side.

“Diggle, what’s going on? Where is Felicity? If something happened you need to tell me, now.”

“Relax, Oliver, she’s okay physically. However, I think she may have indulged herself in some of the refreshments.”

Indulged herself in the… Oh.

That is Digg’s subtle way of saying that Felicity is drunk. That’s… strange. He’s never associated Felicity with the irresponsible young teenager type. But then he remembers that she is a teenager and he was doing much worse things at her age than getting drunk at fundraisers, much worse things that landed him in the local precinct more than once.

As they push through the door, Digg leads him around a corner to a stairwell. Felicity sits on the steps, head leaning against the wall and shoes kicked off her feet, lying at the bottom of the stairs. Her bottom lip juts out slightly and her brows are drawn together. She almost looks like she’s pouting. It’s kind of adorable.

“Felicity.”

Her head snaps up to look at him and a smile spreads across her face.

“Oliver!” The smile disappears and turns back into a pout when she glances at Digg standing behind him. “Digg put me in time out.”

He grins at her obviously inebriated state and turns to his friend.

“I can take it from here. Do you mind standing outside the door?”

“Sure thing, man.”

Diggle exits the stairwell, leaving Oliver alone with Felicity. He takes the seat next to her on the steps and she immediately leans against him, sighing softly.

“So, what did you do to get put in time out?”

“I was bad. I think I drank a liiiittle bit too much.”

She holds her fingers up to show him how much a little bit is before letting her hand fall on his shoulder and resting her chin on top of it. It brings their faces close and he can smell the slight hint of alcohol on her breath.

“Wasn’t Tommy’s proposal great? Laurel was so happy. I bet Tommy was too. Oh and Sara. She’ll probably get to be maid of honor. Are you gonna be Tommy’s best man? That was silly, of course you are! Oh that probably means you’re going to escort Sara. Gorgeous, badass, older Sara…”

He watches Felicity as she babbles on, her eyes growing sad as she trails off.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong I’m grrrreat! Everything’s great. Great, great, great.”

“Felicity…”

She looks away from Oliver but he reaches out to gently turn her face back towards his.

“Sara is sooooo pretty.”

He’s surprised by what she chooses to tell him but decides to go along with it. Felicity almost always comes back to her point, even when her thoughts get away from her.

“Yes, she is.”

“Do you like her?”

“I do. She’s a very old friend and a good person.”

Felicity shakes her head exaggeratedly which causes pieces of her hair to fall out of its loose up do and into her face. She clumsily reaches up to part the fallen strands and tucks them behind her ears.

“No, I mean do you like her like her? I didn’t mean to interrupt the other week. I know why she was over. I’m eighteen, well not really but I will be in less than three weeks it’s the same thing, not blind. Carter likes her, too, you know? I saw him dancing with her. I saw you dancing with her. Everyone wants to dance with her. Gorgeous, badass, older Sara…”

Her words aren’t jealous or bitter or resentful. They hold no ill will or spite. They come out simply, stated like facts. The only emotions Oliver can detect are melancholy and he thinks wistfulness.

“Felicity, Sara and I are just friends. That’s all. And Carter? He’s a gigantic ass. He’s not worth your time.”

Not to mention the mere thought of the good doctor having his hands anywhere near Felicity cause a flash of anger and something else to run through him.

“Are you?”

Felicity’s hands slide to his shoulders and then to the sides of his neck. Her fingers lightly brush through the small hairs there. He can feel the smooth palms of her hands on his skin and the heat they emanate sends bursts of electricity through him.

“Are you worth my time?”

Part of him wants to say yes. It wants to grab onto her waist and close the distance between them, to pull her into his lap and meld his lips with hers until he hears her moan. He wants to feel her fingers run through his hair and scrape at his scalp, tugging him closer. He wants to know what she feels like, what she sounds like, what she tastes like.

But she’s drunk and even if she weren’t it would still be wrong. He realizes now that she may not find him as creepy and repulsive as he thought and that’s not good, even if something inside him disagrees. He needs to draw a line. One that even though he mentally will cross probably a hundred more times will resonate with her and stop whatever this is between them from progressing any further, from going anywhere beyond the small crush she might have on him. What he says next has to giver her the impression that he is completely uninterested in anything other than friendship with her. He’s going to have to do the one thing he has never done with Felicity. He’s going to have to lie.

“Felicity, you’re like a little sister to me. I would never waste your time.”

Oliver watches as Felicity’s entire demeanor falls. She pulls her hands away from him and lays them in her lap, shoulders hunching slightly. It’s possible he even sees a tear fall down her cheek.

“Oh.”

That’s all she says as she avoids eye contact with him.

He wants to take it back. He wants to tell her that he lied, that he sees her as anything but a sister. That ever since he first saw her after getting back it’s been a constant struggle to control himself around her. He knows he can’t.

“You must be getting cold in here. Why don’t I have Mr. Diggle take you home?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Oliver stands from the stairs and offers Felicity a hand, which she ignores. Instead, she leans over to pick up her shoes and slip them back on before walking out of the stairwell with him.

“Hey, can you take Felicity back to the mansion?”

One look at the young girl is all Diggle needs to know that something is wrong. He doesn’t question it, only nods and places a comforting hand on her back.

“Come on. Let’s get you home okay?”

He guides her to the exit but not before throwing a glance at Oliver that tells him that he will be questioned on the situation later.

A sinking feeling forms in the pit of his stomach as he watches Felicity walk away. Her usually upbeat posture now defeated and crestfallen. He hates himself for being the cause of it when all he’s ever wanted was to keep her safe and happy.

Oliver knows he’s no good for her, that a relationship with him would bring ridicule and disapproval. Not to mention that Felicity deserves someone much less damaged and hollow than he is. He tells himself that she’s young and she’ll move on, that it was probably just a result of the innocent crush she had on him when she was younger. The crush he once thought was kind of adorable and loved to tease her about.

“Is that Felicity leaving with Mr. Diggle?”

Oliver turns to find Thea looking at the aforementioned pair in concern as they make their way to the exit.

“Yeah. She said she wasn’t feeling well.”

That’s another lie to add to the list this evening.

“I’m going to go with her, make sure she’s okay. Will you let mom know that we left?”

Thea is already walking away and headed over towards Felicity as she finishes her question, which is more of a statement really.

“Sure thing, Speedy.”

Oliver watches as his sister catches up to her best friend. He can tell the second that Thea catches on to Felicity’s downtrodden mood. She wraps an arm around the blonde’s waist and squeezes, resting her head on her shoulder as they walk out the door. At least Felicity will have someone to be with her and cheer her up, even if it’s not him.

Turning away from where his sister and Felicity just left, Oliver spots Tommy and Laurel a few feet away. He joins them to congratulate his best friends and distract himself from the girl whose heart he may have just broken.

It doesn’t work nearly as well as he hoped it would.

Chapter Text

Breakfast and the subsequent ride into Queen Consolidated the following Monday are awkward affairs to say the least. Oliver has been giving Felicity the space he thinks she needs while still trying to maintain suitable interaction with her. He can’t have her as part of his life in a romantic sense, but he still wants to keep the camaraderie and trust they have built up over the years he was away and since his return. It’s selfish to keep her so close after realizing that her feelings for him might not be strictly platonic, but it’s been a long time since he felt this open with anyone. That’s not something he’s willing to give up just yet.

They currently sit in the backseat of the town car, the silence around them screaming at him louder than any voice ever could. This is the first time that they’ve been together without anyone else around to deflect the tension. And there is definitely tension. It fills the empty space, pressing against them, an invisible pressure. He wants to say something, anything just so he can hear her voice. What that means regarding his feelings towards her he isn’t sure, but he is sure that it’s not something he wants to read into right now.

“I’m sorry.”

Felicity’s apology startles Oliver. He wasn’t expecting her to break the silence and he definitely wasn’t expecting her to break the silence with an apology.

“I… What?”

“I’m sorry. About the other night at the fundraiser. I had too much to drink and I overstepped my boundaries. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. It won’t happen again.”

Taking a second to process what she’s saying, Oliver realizes that Felicity is taking what happened the other night completely onto her shoulders and making it solely her responsibility. She probably feels embarrassed by the whole ordeal. But if anyone should be embarrassed by his or her actions towards the other, it’s him.

In addition, he can list more times than the number of fingers on his hands that he had done humiliating and shameful things in his youth. Peeing on a cop is one of the first that comes to mind. Felicity getting tipsy at a fundraiser and leaving early doesn’t even hold a candle to his slipups.

“Felicity, I should have been more careful with how I acted around you. I realize now how you could have misinterpreted,” or correctly interpreted,  “some of my actions and that’s my fault. Sometimes I forget that you’re not actually family and that the openness we have isn’t exactly typical. But I want to keep that, if you’re okay with it that is. I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

That sounds practiced and faulty even to his ears.

“No, of course. We’re like family. It was just a small lapse in judgment. I used to have this silly little crush on you when we first met, must have been some of that speaking last night. It won’t be a problem again.”

This strangely feels like the part of a break-up where the two individuals try to remain friends but ultimately can’t. Not that he’s exactly experienced with those. Most of his youth was spent bouncing from one bed to the next. He’d had a few girlfriends here and there but it was usually he who did the breaking up and typically that didn’t include much talking. In fact, his favorite tactic was to not talk to the girl at all. She usually got the hint after a week or so. Again, another part of Oliver’s younger years that he wishes he could take back. None of those girls deserved the treatment they received from him.

“Ms. Smoak, Mr. Queen, we’re here.”

The driver politely informs them via an intercom built into the car. A divider remains standing between them, assuring their privacy. Oliver pushes on the button to reply with his thanks before turning to Felicity.

“Walk you in?”

He desperately needs to make sure that she won’t try to shut him out despite having just been told that she won’t.

“Sure, okay. Mr. Diggle is meeting us in the lobby, right?”

“Yes. He should be there now.”

Oliver had sent his friend a text earlier this morning to confirm that he would meet them at Queen Consolidated. Even though Felicity had initially argued that the security in the building was enough, after reviewing the department both Oliver and Diggle had agreed that the extra set of eyes wouldn’t hurt. She had huffed in annoyance at Oliver’s persistence but left it at that.

Exiting the car, Oliver holds the door open and extends a hand to help Felicity out. She cautiously accepts it but her grip is loose in his and the second she’s steady on her feet she ends the contact.

“So, what’s on the agenda for you today?”

He just wants to keep her talking, to hear her endearing rambles and genuine thoughts.

“Probably more email resets and wiping computer hard drives for some exec that clicked on a bogus pop up add.”

The exasperation in her voice makes him chuckle slightly.

“Does that happen a lot?”

“Daily. So don’t go getting any ideas. Avoid pop ups at all cost and no porn sites. Not that you watch porn or that I would know if you did. That’s totally up to you. I’m just saying it’s one of the number one sources for viruses and harmful trojans. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about though.”

There’s his Felicity.

No. Not his Felicity, just the Felicity that everyone knows, the babbling blonde with the genius IQ. She is in no way his. Even if part of him wishes otherwise. Even if part of him knows that part of her, however big or small, wants that too.

“What about you? Anything exciting going on during your first full week as a businessman, Mr. Queen?”

“I have a meeting with a potential investor lined up in an hour.”

He doesn’t mention that said potential investor is Frank Bertinelli, rumored mob boss of the Italian organized crime group that might be responsible for the attempt on Felicity’s life.

A screeching of tires in the near distance causes Oliver to divert his gaze from the blonde at his side. A motorcycle cuts around the corner of the QC building, veering up onto the sidewalk.

The next moments occur in slow motion for Oliver. Felicity must have asked him something because he can see her steps halt as she turns to look at him out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t pay too much attention to this because his attention has zeroed in on the motorcyclist as the man reaches down to pull a small black object from his side. A gun.

“GET DOWN!”

Diggle’s shout registers in the back of his mind right as the shot rings out. Oliver dives for Felicity, knocking her to the ground and covering her body with his, but not before he hears her cry of pain. The accelerator on the vehicle revs and roars as it speeds away and just like that it’s over within seconds.

“Digg! Get a visual on the license plate!”

The sound of pounding feet on pavement fades, replaced with worried shouts around them and pained, heavy breathing beneath him. Oliver yells for someone to call 911 before focusing his attention on Felicity.

“Felicity! Felicity, are you okay?”

“My shoulder.”

Her eyes are screwed shut in pain and her right hand clutches at her upper left arm.

“Let me see.”

Gently, Oliver shifts off of her and maneuvers Felicity into a semi sitting position, doing his best to ignore the small whimpers of pain she’s emitting, trying to remain clinical.

“I’m going to need to take your cardigan off to get a better look. I’ll try to move your shoulder as little as possible but it’s still going to hurt.”

Felicity grunts in acknowledgement before squeezing her eyes tighter together in preparation for his actions. First he slides her uninjured arm from the sweater. That’s the easy part. As he begins to peel the other sleeve off Felicity bites hard at her bottom lip to prevent herself from screaming. It doesn’t prevent her from crying out completely though and she bites down harder, drawing blood. It causes Oliver to wince. He hates being the one to cause her more pain, but it has to be done.

When her cardigan is removed and Oliver can get a clear visual of the wound, he sighs in relief. It’s a through and through and the bleeding is minimal, meaning no significant veins or arteries have been damaged. She will be okay once the wound has been stitched up and she’s given prescription painkillers. He balls up her sweater and presses it overtop her injury, his force firm but gentle as to lessen the pain and stanch the flow of blood.

“The bullet didn’t hit anything vital. You should be okay with a few stitches and some prescription painkillers once the paramedics get here.”

“Stitches? As in needle and thread in my skin? I think I’m going to be sick.”

As if to prove her point, Felicity lists to the side and Oliver catches on to her good arm to steady her. A disoriented look crosses her face and it takes her longer than it should to focus back on him.

“Felicity? Felicity, look at me. Did you hit your head?”

Her response is delayed and comes out sluggishly, slightly garbled.

“I think so. It hurts and everything is kind of spinny.”

Felicity’s eyes flutter shut for longer than normal before she opens them again. Then her body falls forward into Oliver’s, crashing into his chest.

“Whoa, who tilted the Earth and can you please put it back upright?”

“Okay, I need you to do something for me. I need you to keep your eyes open and stay awake until the paramedics arrive. Can you do that for me?”

“Mhmm, surrrrre.”

Oliver holds Felicity to him, her head now resting on his shoulder, while they wait for the paramedics to arrive. He knows the bullet wound will need stitches and he is almost one hundred percent sure that she has a concussion from when he knocked her to the concrete. Guilt flows through him for causing the injury but the alternative would have been much, much worse.

“Oliver.”

Diggle jogs to stand next to him, chest heaving in an effort to catch his breath.

“Did you get him?”

“No. The son of a bitch out maneuvered me.”

Anger flows through him. Not at Digg, he knows catching a moving vehicle on foot is a difficult, near impossible feat. No, his anger is directed at the motorcyclist who shot at Felicity and the fact that this man has gotten away with it, at least for now.

The sound of sirens reaches his ears as an ambulance comes speeding down the street to stop in front of the Queen Consolidated building. Two paramedics jump out and quickly make their way over to where Oliver is sitting with Felicity in his arms. He stands to meet them as a stretcher is pulled over in their direction.

“What happened?”

“Bastard came around on a motorcycle and shot at her. She has a through in through in her left shoulder and more than likely a concussion from the fall when I knocked her out of the way.”

Once the stretcher is set up, Oliver slides Felicity onto it, careful not to jostle her too much and cause more pain. One of the paramedics begins to check her over, taking vitals and examining the injury on her shoulder as well as prodding the back of her head. The other continues to talk with Oliver and then Diggle about the occurrence.

Once Felicity’s on-site examination is through, the woman who checked her over informs Oliver that his assessment of her injuries was correct. They’ll need to take her to the hospital, something he expected and was fully in support of, just to make sure she was okay and to keep her under observation for a few hours.

“I’m going with her.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Queen, but family only in the vehicle. She’s not in critical condition and should be fine during the ride over.”

“Someone just attempted to kill her. If you think I’m going to let her go alone then you’ve got another thing coming to you.”

Oliver steps closer to the male EMT who spoke up, intimidating the man and causing him the shuffle backwards. There is no way Felicity is getting in that ambulance unprotected. If the attacker doubled back and something happened to the vehicle Oliver would never forgive himself. Diggle places a firm hand on his shoulder to restrain him before stepping up to calmly speak with the paramedic.

“Listen, I know it’s standard protocol to limit passengers in an ambulance, but the girl has just been shot and is suffering from a concussion, not to mention this is now the second attempt on her life in as many weeks. She’s disoriented and most likely panicked. If you won’t let Mr. Queen ride with her, at least allow her bodyguard to sit in the front.”

The paramedic gives it a minute of consideration. Within that minute Oliver begins to contemplate every possible way he could get the man fired if anything happens to Felicity.

“That should be fine.”

With the paramedic’s go-ahead Oliver crosses over to where Felicity is half-laying on the stretcher, eyes slightly glazed but still open.

“Hey...” He speaks to her softly, garnering her attention. “They’re gonna take you to the hospital now to close up the wound and run some scans to make sure you didn’t hurt your head too badly.”

“M’kay.”

Her sighed response worries Oliver, causing him to reach out and cup her cheek. She immediately leans further into his touch and the action causes warmth to spread through his chest. He angles her head so that they are making direct eye contact, helping her focus on him and his words.

“They won’t let me ride with you but they said Digg could. I’ll follow you in his car, okay?”

“You’re coming to the hospital, too? Are you hurt?”

Felicity’s eyebrows pull together in consternation and her hand lazily brushes his arm before gripping his bicep, as if she’s attempting to check him for injury. In any other situation Oliver would easily be distracted by her soft caress. But right now all he cares about and can focus on is Felicity and her wellbeing.

“No, no, I’m fine. I’m going to be with you, to make sure you are okay.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Her face relaxes and she graces him with a small, lazy smile before she lays back on the stretcher.

“Excuse me, Mr. Queen. I don’t want to interrupt but we need to get her to the hospital.”

Although he’s annoyed at the interruption, Oliver realizes that the paramedic is right and so gives him a nod in assent before stepping back with Digg. They agree to meet in whatever room Felicity will be assigned and Digg hands Oliver the keys to his car, parked in the QC garage, before climbing into the passenger side of the ambulance. It speeds away, sirens sounding, and Oliver is on his feet, headed towards the garage in record time. He has the forethought to send a quick text to the intern assisting the project, Barry Allen it reads in his phone, to cancel all appointments for the day, including the one with Frank Bertinelli. It’s probably better this way. Oliver isn’t sure what he would do to the man if left alone with him and that wouldn’t work well with his plan at all.

….

Forty-three minutes later Oliver enters the hospital room Felicity is being kept in. Not that he was counting. Or broke several different traffic laws to get here in almost half the time it should normally take unless he were in the emergency vehicle itself.

As Oliver cuts around the corner of the hallway, he sees Diggle standing outside of a room on the left. His stride quickens, closing the space between him and where Felicity is. Digg informs him of what’s happening, she was given a local anesthetic before they stitched the bullet wound shut and the doctor just arrived to perform a routine check and examine her head. Once Digg is finished briefing him, Oliver enters the private room that he ensured Felicity be placed in.

“Can you follow the light with your eyes for me, Felicity?”

The doctor, a friend of the Queen family by the name of Dr. Lamb, shines a light at Felicity’s eyes. She squints at the initial brightness, before her eyes somewhat come into focus, and does what she was asked. From his vantage point, Oliver can see that she is still a little slow in processing the movement but her perception and focus are better than when he talked to her initially after receiving the injury. It causes him to relax slightly. This means she likely did not sustain any major head trauma from the blow. The guilt he was too preoccupied to pay attention to begins to recede.

“Okay, a little slow, but not too bad. Let’s try a few other small tests.”

After a few other examinations Dr. Lamb makes a positive noise and quickly jots a few notes down onto his clipboard. Oliver takes the opportunity to further enter the room, grabbing the attention of its other two occupants.

“Oliver, I’m glad you’re here. I was just about to order a CT scan for Felicity.”

“Is something wrong?”

He was sure that the damage hadn’t been that bad.

“No, nothing is wrong. It’s just standard procedure. I’m confident in saying that the only injury sustained besides the shot to her shoulder is a grade two concussion. She should be fine to go home later tonight.”

“Thank you.”

The doctor nods before leaving Oliver and Felicity alone in the room to put in the order for the scan.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. It hurts like a bitch and I nearly got sick as they pulled the thread through my skin, oh God I might get sick after all, but other than that I’m fine.”

He’s happy to see that she’s much more coherent now than she was before.

“Felicity!”

Thea comes barreling through the door and heads straight for her best friend. Her arms wrap tightly around Felicity who let’s out a small cry of pain, causing Thea to pull back instantly.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I just… Mr. Diggle called mom and told her what happened and we came here as fast as possible and I’m just so happy you’re okay.”

Oliver glances towards the door to find Moira standing there, a hand fisted and resting over her heart. Next to her stands John and Oliver nods at him in thanks. He didn’t even think to call his family.

“You’re going to be okay, right?”

“Yeah, I was shot in the shoulder and the doctor says I have a concussion but I’ll be okay. He said I could probably go home tonight.”

“Oh thank God. I can’t lose my best friend, Lissy.”

Thea’s hand grips Felicity’s tightly and Oliver can see tears in both girls’ eyes. They provide each other with strength and stability, something Oliver is happy to see. Even though a part of him wishes he could be that person for his sister, he knows that Felicity is much more stable and reliable a person than he. Had he been here with them the past five years, Oliver’s not sure if Felicity and Thea would have been this close. At least one good thing came from his absence.

He steps forward to gently place a hand on his sister’s shoulder.

“She’s going to be fine, Speedy. Maybe a bit out of it for a few days but after that she will be good as new.”

Thea gives him a watery smile and nods in response.

“Excuse me, but I need to take Ms. Smoak for her scan.”

An attending comes in with a nurse and they quickly take Felicity away to be tested, leaving Moira, Thea, Diggle, and Oliver in the room to wait. Oliver offers Moira and Thea the two chairs propped against the hotel room wall and motions for Diggle to step into the room.

“Oliver, what happened?”

Moira’s worry is evident in her posture but her voice doesn’t waver in her inquiry.

“We were walking into Queen Consolidated when a guy sped around on a motorcycle. It caught my attention and I saw him aim a gun at Felicity. He took the shot and I knocked her out of the way but not before he hit her shoulder. She hit her head on the concrete from the fall and that’s how the concussion happened.”

Detached, clinical, to the point. That’s the only way he can deal with this right now.

“Oh God…”

Moira takes in an unsteady breath and covers her mouth with her hand.

It’s overwhelming news, learning that someone out there is trying to maim, kill a loved one. Oliver has been exposed to that firsthand. But Thea and Moira, they’ve never gone through anything remotely close to this.

“Mom, Felicity is going to be okay.”

Being the comforter, that’s not something Oliver is familiar with. Pain, anger, worry those are all emotions he’s come to know well. But dealing with those in other people is a whole different thing. Standing here, now, in a hospital while Felicity is somewhere in a room being scanned and tested, is a terrifying situation for all of them. The difference is he has dealt with this before. His family has not.

A knock on the door draws their attention as Detective Lance walks in. Oliver questions the man before he even gets a chance to greet them.

“Detective. Do you have any leads on the shooter?”

“No, no I’m afraid the only leads we have are the ones from the other night. Did you get a good look at the guy?”

Oliver’s hands clench and he lets out a sigh of frustration.

“No. I was too distracted making sure Felicity was okay to go after him. My friend Mr. Diggle here might have though.”

Quentin turns to the bodyguard in question and raises an inquisitive eyebrow at him.

“I’m sorry, he was wearing a helmet and going too fast for me to get the license plate number down.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll find the son of a bitch.”

An air of frustration permeates the room. They can’t find the shooter if the only details they have are that it may or may not be mob related. The lack of information is starting to anger Oliver.

“We better.”

….

The rhythmic pounding of fists against a punching bag allows Oliver to get lost in himself. His swings are relentless as they beat the synthetic covering, leaving fist-shaped indents in their wake. It’s late, or early depending on how you look at it, but he can’t sleep. Instead of his typical haunting nightmares and insomnia, Oliver is kept awake with anger, adrenaline, and fear. The fear isn’t for himself; it’s for the babbling blonde asleep upstairs.

The worst part is that he can’t do anything about it. Until they identify who is responsible for the now two attempted murders, there’s nothing for him to do but sit and wait. Two things that Oliver does not do well.

He’s a man of action. If there’s a problem, he dives in headfirst to take care of it. Defense is not a position he plays well, especially when someone he cares about is in danger.

“Oliver, it’s nearly three in the morning. Go get some rest.”

Diggle enters the training room of the mansion and slowly saunters towards his friend.

“I can’t.”

The sound of pounding becomes louder as the force behind Oliver’s punches increases.

“Felicity is going to be okay. Thea’s asleep in her room with her and I’m checking in on them every hour.”

“Make it every thirty minutes.”

“Oliver.”

Instead of looking at his former brother in arms, Oliver moves from the punching bag to the rowing machine. He yanks on the chords at a relentless pace; sweat dripping from every pore in his body.

“I was supposed to have a meeting with Frank Bertinelli today.”

There a pause in conversation as Diggle takes that piece of information in.

“Let me get this straight. You had a meeting with a rumored mob boss whose subordinates may be responsible for the attempt, now attempts, on Felicity’s life and didn’t think it was a good idea to tell me?”

Oliver can hear the disapproval and incredulity in Digg’s voice.

“The other night at the fundraiser he expressed his interest in the weaponry project. He’s the only lead we have and I needed an in.”

“Still, she’s my charge. That would have been important information I needed to know. You called me to help you keep her safe. I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“If you had known you would have been on high alert and had Bertinelli run into you he would have noticed.”

“You’re not in this alone, Oliver. We need to work together if we are going to keep Felicity out of harms way. I can’t do my job if you’re keeping secrets.”

Digg is right. Oliver knows he is. But he hasn’t exactly been thinking straight, caring only about finding who is responsible for this and putting an end to them. Now that he has time to think, to breathe, he realizes that not letting Digg know about his meeting with Bertinelli could have seriously put Felicity’s life in jeopardy. He needs to give Diggle his full disclosure.

“You’re right. I had the meeting reschedule for tomorrow night, well tonight now, at Bertinelli’s home.”

“Okay, so Felicity is shot at and they way you are choosing to process this emotionally is through brutal workouts at ungodly hours of the night and by infiltrating the mob under the guise of a possible business partnership?”

“I’m not trying to process this emotionally, Digg.”

Oliver pauses in his workout, reaching for his nearby water bottle to take a swig, and then finally looking over at his friend.

“Yeah, well maybe that’s you’re problem, man. Have you thought about, I don’t know, just going to check in on her?”

His mind flashes to the conversation with Felicity in the car this morning. It feels like days ago that it happened but also like only moments have passed since. He can clearly conjure up the distance she put between them, both physically and mentally. He recalls the way he had to goad her into talking with him, Felicity whose mouth usually runs a mile a minute and in a million different directions.

“Something tells me that might not go over very well. But what I can do is follow every lead I have. And when I find out who this guy is, Diggle, I’m going to have him locked away behind iron bars.”

Oliver turns back to his workout, signaling the end of that conversation. He can hear the footfalls of his friend as he makes his way towards the door.

“You know, Oliver, you’re not the only one who lost people that day. They were my comrades, too. This anger you’re harboring, it’s going to eat you up alive if you keep isolating yourself from the people who care about you like this.”

The closing of the door rings louder than it should on his way out.

….

“Ollie, where are you going?”

Damn it.

Oliver has been avoiding his sister all day, which up until this point was proving to be rather easy since she spent most of it in bed with a still recovering Felicity to keep her company and make sure she was okay. He was in the foyer, just about to leave for his meeting with Frank Bertinelli, when Thea stopped him.

“Speedy. I was just heading out for a business dinner. What’s up?”

“Oh you know, I was just wondering why you haven’t come to check on Felicity once.”

Thea crosses her arms in front of her and glares at him. It’s obvious that his seeming lack of concern has angered her.

“I’ve just been busy going over some basic details for the Applied Sciences project, preparing for this meeting, which I will be late to if I don’t leave within the next minute.”

It’s half true. He really has been looking over the outlines and schematics for what the division has planned. It’s impressive, to say the least. However, he’s also been actively avoiding them. He figures that after everything that has happened, space is the least he can do for Felicity.

Oliver doesn’t tell Thea about how he checked in on them during the early hours of the morning when they were fast asleep.

“No, you are not getting out of this one. I have been with Felicity all day, not that I mind because she’s my best friend. Hell, Mr. Diggle has been, too. Even dad stopped in to check on her this morning before he left for work.”

“I’ve just been really busy, Thea.”

His sister stalks over to him, head shaking in indignation.

“Cut the crap, Ollie. Tell me what’s really going on.”

Just then, Tommy rushes through the front door, saving Oliver from Thea’s intense scrutiny.

“Hey, I heard about Felicity. Is she alright?”

“Yeah, she’s resting upstairs.”

“Not that Ollie would know because he hasn’t seen her once since she got back from the hospital.”

Tommy glances between the two siblings, sensing the tension from the conversation he interrupted.

“Now is not the time, Thea. Sorry, Tommy, I gotta run to this business thing. But thank you for coming by. I’m sure Felicity will be thrilled to see you.”

“It’s no problem, man. Felicity is like a little sister to me, too.”

Right, because that’s exactly how Oliver sees her. He sees her just like a little sister. A little sister who isn’t related to him at all and whose colorful nails and brightly painted lips star in his dreams quite frequently. God, he needs help.

“Yeah.”

Oliver quickly grabs his keys and strides towards the front door. Just as it’s about to slam shut behind him, he hears Thea call out.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, Ollie!”

Wouldn’t dream of it.

….

The grand wooden and glass door of the mansion opens, revealing an older man with brown, slightly graying hair and a hooked nose.

“Oliver, welcome.”

“Mr. Bertinelli.”

The two men shake hands in greeting as they enter the foyer, door falling shut behind them.

“Please, call me Frank. Thank you for agreeing to meet me at my home and at such late hours.”

“My father used to say that living rooms make the best conference rooms.”

“Oh, I’m gonna steal that one.”

Bertinelli nods his head, chuckling in agreement before gesturing to a man who has been standing in the background.

“This is Nick Solvate, my associate.” Oliver quickly greets the man, noting the gun not quite hidden underneath his suit jacket. “Please, let’s have a drink.”

They cross the foyer and enter a smaller, more intimate room with large sofas and a grand fireplace built into the wall. Bertinelli gestures for Oliver to take a seat on one of the leather sofas while he fetches them a drink. It gives Oliver the time to survey his surroundings, noting all exits and possible weapons.

“So, Oliver, I saw on the news about that young girl your family is so fond of. What’s her name, again?”

“Felicity Smoak. She’s a long time friend of my younger sister. My parents took her in a few years back, while I was deployed.”

“Smoak. Any relation to Karen Smoak?”

A chill sets in Oliver’s bones. Speaking so personally about Felicity with the man who might be responsible for her attempted murders sets him on edge. But this is what he came here for, to see if there was a connection between Frank Bertinelli, the mob, and Karen Smoak that would result in Felicity’s endangerment. The only physical sign of Oliver’s distress lies in his locked jaw.

“Karen is her mother. They don’t speak very often.”

“Oh. Well I am terribly sorry about what happened to the poor thing. They mentioned she was shot. Will she be okay?”

Bertinelli’s words are kind but lack an air of sincerity and worry usually accustomed with this kind of inquiry.

“Yes, she’s recovering as we speak.”

“That is good to hear. I wish her a quick and easy recovery.”

“You and me both.”

The men pause in order to take a pull of the amber liquid in their glasses. A cell phone rings and Bertinelli’s associate, whom Oliver knows is not simply a business partner, leaves the room to take the call.

“Oliver, I’m going to be blunt. I want the contract to partner with Queen Consolidated’s Applied Sciences division. Specifically to work on the project for Defense Tech.”

“And I’m inclined to hear you out on it.”

“The violence in this city, in this world, it’s terrible. Take for example what happened with young Ms. Smoak yesterday. Sometimes I wonder why I stay.”

“I’ve had similar thoughts.”

“So why come back? After all those years in the Army, you could have gone anywhere in the world.”

“Because Starling City is my home.”

Bertinelli murmurs an Italian phrase in response to which Oliver raises a questioning eyebrow.

“No matter which way you go or turn, you always end up at home.”

Just then, Bertinelli’s guard returns to the room, expression firm and stony.

 “Excuse me, sir, that meeting you requested, they can do it. Now.”

The conflict is evident in Bertinelli’s eyes and Oliver quickly jumps in.

“I can come back another time.”

“No, no, no, just… Excuse us for a moment please.”

The businessman ushers his associate to the side. They exchange quick heated words and it seems that Solvate is attempting to refuse whatever his boss is saying. It grows heated but simmers down when Bertinelli finally nods in assent and the pair makes their way back over to where Oliver is standing.

“Unfortunately, I have to take this meeting. But I would like to invite both you and your lovely family over for a dinner in hopes that I can make it up to you. Maybe you and I can sit down with your parents as well and have a chat about the partnership. I’m sure your sister and her friend could find something to entertain them while we talk business.”

A dinner with Oliver’s entire family, including Felicity, at Bertinelli’s home would put her right in the middle of the mob’s clutches. Oliver’s immediate instinct is a deep and resounding no.

 “Oh, that’ really not necessary. I’m sure my assistant can schedule you in later this week. I wouldn’t want to put you through the trouble of hosting a dinner.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. My daughter, Helena, will be back in town with her fiancé and I was planning on holding a dinner while they were here. It would be my pleasure to have the Queen family join us. I’m sure a few of my associates would be thrilled to attend as well.”

Oliver cannot think of a way out of this one. If he is going to get more information on the mob and find a connection to Karen, then he has to remain in good standing with Frank. In the end, he reluctantly makes his decision.

“Sure, dinner sounds wonderful.”

Chapter Text

Felicity's outfit: dinner

Thea's outfit: dinner

....

The sound of fingers tapping against a keyboard greets Oliver as he makes his way into his home office on the upper floor of the mansion, just down the hall from the family wing. Diggle sits at the desk, eyes reading over whatever information is on the computer screen.

“Hey, what’s going on? Is Felicity okay?”

Oliver had sped home as fast as he could after his meeting with Bertinelli. Digg called to inform him that something had come up with Felicity’s situation. His friend’s voice was incessant but not urgent or worried. Regardless, it had still put Oliver on edge.

“She’s fine. Still in bed watching some chick flick with Thea. Tommy was with them for awhile but he left about thirty minutes ago.”

Relief floods through Oliver, allowing his muscles to relax and his thoughts to stop racing.

“Okay, so what did you call about?”

“I found a possible lead. Years ago, before Karen took the job in Central, the company she was employed at was working on a partnership with another firm. Nick Solvate, one of Bertinelli’s associates, was a supervisor on the project. Guess who else was one of the lead supervisors?”

“I’m going to take Karen Smoak for 500.”

“You would be right. Thing is, she split from the company before the contract was fully drafted and legally processed. It ended up falling through and Bertinelli lost a lot of money because of it.”

It’s the first break they’ve had since the shooting at his party and it confirms Felicity’s initial musings. Even if she had just been pulling at straws when she mentioned her mother that night, Oliver had seen merit in the theory. He’s glad he stuck with it.

“And speaking of business partnerships, how’d the meeting go with Bertinelli?”

“I… it didn’t get very far.”

“What?”

“Bertinelli got pulled away on business. But he invited the entire Queen family over for dinner on Friday, including Felicity.”

“And you said no, right?”

Oliver reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck both in uneasiness and irritation.

“I couldn’t. I had to agree to it.”

“Oliver, you know there is no way in hell that it’s safe for Felicity in that place.”

He knows, he more than knows. The entire car ride back to the manor from Bertinelli’s was spent in a hectic state of mind. He tried to think of any possible excuse for Felicity not to go. There was no solid proof to give that Bertinelli was leading the mob so he couldn’t just accuse the man and then force her to stay here. Moira and Robert would also insist that they all go, as the invitation was extended to the entire family and if Thea went, she would make damn sure Felicity went to.

“Don’t you think I understand that, Digg? I care about her. She’s part of the family. I would never want to put her in harms way. But there’s no way around it. If we want inside information on Bertinelli, I have to gain his trust. He can’t know we suspect anything.”

The look on Diggle’s face is full of anger, anger and reluctant acceptance. Because there isn’t a way out of this and Felicity is going to be in even more danger than she already is.

“I know what I’m doing, Digg.”

“Do you?”

He does. He knows what he’s planning on doing and he knows how dangerous it all is. But whatever it takes to stop the person going after Felicity, he’ll do it.

“I’m going to check on Felicity. And Thea.”

Exiting the office and leaving an exasperated Diggle behind, Oliver heads in the direction of Felicity’s room down the hall. It’s late, late enough that the girls, or at least Felicity, might be asleep. That’s his hope at least. The plan was to give Felicity her distance, her time to recover. Things were strained, awkward between them before she was shot. He didn’t want to put any unnecessary stress on her while she was healing.

But something inside of him is begging for her to be awake. He needs to hear her talk at a rate faster than any normal person can, needs to see her genuine smile and the blush that warms her cheeks when she slips and says something inadvertently sexual. He needs to see her alive and well and herself.

He just needs her.

The strength of his thoughts gives Oliver pause, physically bringing him to a halt just a few steps away from Felicity’s door.

Since his return, Oliver has become accustomed to his heated thoughts about his sister’s brilliant best friend. However, he’s put that down to simple physical attraction. He is a man, a man who was very limited in sexual activity for five years, and Felicity is a beautiful woman. Well, technically girl, but she will be eighteen soon enough. Really, she hasn’t been simply a girl in his eyes since his return, not just because of her physical appearance but also because of the maturity and attitude towards life that she possesses. The term girl doesn’t contain enough substance to describe the person that Felicity is.

That brings Oliver to his newfound problem. Somewhere down the road the pull he feels towards Felicity has become more than physical. Where once it was easy for him to distinguish between physical attraction and personal admiration, Oliver now finds those things scrambling together and becoming one, the attraction no longer purely carnal. This is more dangerous than the physical. This is emotional, and he’s not prepared for what that entails.

Oliver almost continues on, past Felicity’s room and to his own, when he hears a cry of pain coming from behind the closed door. In no time at all he’s at her door, giving a quick knock of warning before pushing it open.

He instantly wishes he hadn’t.

Because Felicity is standing by her bed, back facing the door, in a pair of tiny boy shorts and her shirt halfway off, tangled around her shoulders and twisted arms.

“Oh good, you’re back. Can you come help me get this shirt over my bad shoulder? I desperately need to get some water and yummy smelling lavender and chamomile soap on my body. You know that healing, herbal stuff Laurel bought us for Christmikah that I’ve never used? Yeah that sounds really good right now.”

Jesus Christ.

Before he can stop it, an image of Felicity, naked and wet in the shower forms itself in his mind. Her smooth skin, slick and sudsy with soap, bubbles sliding down her body from the top of her collarbone to the valley of her breasts, over her navel where some of them catch and cling to her skin before continuing their path down to the space between her legs where they disappear. He imagines her toned body stretching as she reaches up and runs her fingers through her hair, rinsing out her shampoo. He can almost see her hands running across her own skin, touching and gliding over every surface. The thought instantly brings heat to his body, a fire flowing through his veins and heading south.

“Thea, hello, a little help – Oliver! Oh my God! Shit! You’re definitely not Thea!”

He’s brought out of his completely inappropriate musings by Felicity’s surprised shouts. For a second he just stares at her, jaw slightly unhinged, as she scrambles to cover herself without hurting her shoulder. Then he realizes that he’s basically been caught gawking at Felicity’s half-naked body and spins around to face away from her, giving her the privacy she needs to cover up.

“I, uh, I’m sorry. I heard you shout and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

The rustling of sheets mixes with mumbled cursing as Felicity gets situated behind him.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I was just trying to take a shower. Who knew getting naked could be so hard?” He could make it easy for her. “Gah, my brain thinks of the worst way to say things. I really need to get a filter for that.”

There’s an awkward beat where neither one of them exactly knows what to say. Eventually, Oliver figures it’s his responsibility to break the silence, seeing as he was the one who barged in and put them in this position in the first place.

“I should have waited for you to answer before coming in. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not much different from seeing me in a bikini, right? And since I’m like a sister to you, it’s really no biggie. Don’t worry about it. No harm no foul. Thea’s seen me in less. So has Tommy actually. But that was an accident and he spent the following week avoiding eye contact and blushing whenever we were in the same room. Not that I was much better off. Wow, now that I think about it that was really embarrassing.”

“Tommy has seen you in less than your bra and shorts?”

Apparently Felicity isn’t the only one who needs a filter.

“Uhm… maybe?”

Oliver’s teeth grind together and his fists clench as a whole different kind of heat from the one he experienced earlier fills him.

“You can turn around now, by the way. I’m decent.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Oliver, I am sure that currently every inch of my body except for my face is covered by this ridiculously soft and expensive duvet cover.”

For a second he contemplates not turning around. He could just brush it off as hearing her cry of pain and making sure she was okay. He could offer to find Thea to help her. He could give her some excuse about having a lot of work to get done and make his exit. There are a lot of things he could do to escape this awkward exchange.

But he doesn’t.

Because he came to Felicity’s room for a reason, to see her and make sure she was okay. Now that he’s here, Thea’s earlier questioning returns to him and floods him with guilt. He should have checked on her sooner. Yes, things between them were strained, but Felicity was one of the most important people in his life. He owed it to her to be there for her in whatever capacity she needed because she had been there for him so many times before. He wanted her to know that she could count on him.

So Oliver turns around and takes a few hesitant steps towards the bed where Felicity currently lies, buried under her pale yellow floral comforter.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better than yesterday. My shoulder is ridiculously sore and my head hurts like you wouldn’t believe. But hey I’m still breathing so I can’t complain.” Oliver cringes at that because if he hadn’t been so alert, his sense so sharply honed from years of military training, Felicity could very well be six feet under right now. “Sorry. That wasn’t a very tasteful joke.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Oliver walks closer to her, coming within a foot of her bedside before he speaks again. “How are you?”

This time it’s clear that he doesn’t mean physically.

“I’m fine.”

No she’s not. He can see it in her eyes that she’s not. It’s in the set of her shoulders and the quiver of her mouth as she says the words in a quick, short response.

“Felicity…”

“I’m fine, Oliver. I’ve been taking those amazing painkillers that put me on cloud nine and lying in bed all day. It’s a teenage dream and I’m living it. Actually, I think it’s time for my next dose. Be awesome and hand me the bottle?”

She’s deflecting and Oliver isn’t going to let her get away with it.

He takes the final few steps, four to be exact, and carefully seats himself on the edge of her bed; the very edge. Still, the proximity seems to surprise Felicity because she uses her good arm to scoot herself further back against the headboard. It doesn’t make much of a difference physically but it feels like she just put miles of space between them.

“Felicity, you were just shot at, again, and we – the police still haven’t caught whoever did it.”

“What do you want me to say, Oliver? Do you want me to tell you that I’m scared? That I’m terrified? That the thought of someone out there, trying to hurt me, makes me want to run and hide?”

She doesn’t yell, doesn’t even raise her voice. The words are spoken with a calm clarity in an octave just above a whisper.

“If that’s how you feel.”

“Well, it’s not. I can’t live my life like that, checking every dark alley and looking around every corner to see if someone is there, trying to get me. That’s no way to live. That’s not even living. It’s existing and I don’t want to do that. I won’t do that.”

“So you’re not scared? Not even a little bit?”

“Of course I am. But I’m not going to let that consume me and dictate how I live my life. I have Digg and I have you and I know you won’t let anything happen to me.”

Her eyes mirror the sincerity in her words as they bore into his. It strikes him hard, that after all this fickle push and pull they have gone through since his return, Felicity still trusts him so innately. He doesn’t know what good deed he did in his life to deserve this. Honestly, he’s pretty sure that he doesn’t.

Oliver unknowingly leans in towards her, like two opposite charges of a magnet, drawn together by an unseeable force. His hand reaches forward to grab onto hers, lying on top of the duvet.

“I’ll protect you, Felicity. Always. I promise.”

The look she gives him brings warmth to his chest. Her eyes shine, lips pressed together, curled slightly inwards, as she nods in understanding. Then a small, heartwarming smile spreads across her face. It’s like he’s shocked her with the depth of his declaration, like she can’t really believe that someone would care so much about her safety.

Oliver’s thumb rubs absentmindedly over the tops of her knuckles, brushing the ring on her index finger that he’s vaguely aware of seeing there before. Their eyes never part.

He can feel himself being pulled in closer. Her bright blue eyes a swirling storm and a calming clarity all at once. It’s dangerous and thrilling and it gets his heart racing. She is the eye of the storm, promising a safe haven amidst chaos.

“Ahem, am I interrupting something?”

Oliver springs from the bed so fast it’s like ice water has been thrown on him. Felicity shifts around, lifting a nervous hand to smooth down the hair of her ponytail.

“Thea! Hi, you’re back. Thank goodness.”

They weren’t doing anything wrong. Oliver was just comforting her. That’s completely acceptable, to use physical contact as reassurance and comfort. Family members do it all the time.

So why does he feel like a kid who was just caught with his hand in the cookie jar?

“Uh huh, I said I would be.”

Thea’s gaze bounces between Oliver and Felicity, cool and calculating.

“I was walking by on the way to my room when I heard Felicity yell. I came to check on her.”

“Well that was nice of you, considering you haven’t come by since she got home over twenty-four hours ago.”

Apparently, she’s still mad at him for that.

“Thea, it’s fine. Oliver is busy with his new job. The world doesn’t stop just because I got hurt.”

“Maybe that’s true, but it doesn’t mean he can’t stop by to check on you at least once. He literally lives down the hall.”

She’s right, Oliver could have easily checked in on them. But he was scared, so he didn’t. For a U.S. soldier, meant to be the bravest of men, he really can be quite a coward.

“It’s okay, Thea, really. Now I desperately need to take a shower so can someone please help me out of these clothes? And by someone I mean Thea. Because, yeah, obvious reasons…”

That’s his cue and Oliver takes it wholeheartedly, already shuffling towards the door as he makes his escape.

“Right. I have some business matters to look over from tonight’s meeting anyway. I’ll see you later.”

He can feel two sets of eyes on his back as he reaches for the handle to open the door. They’re both heated. One of them with anger and the other with something he can’t identify but is still familiar to him. At the last second he turns around, eyes locking with Felicity’s.

“I’m really glad you’re okay, Felicity.”

Their gazes hold for a long moment. He can see the widening of her eyes and the slight confusion in them from where he stands across her bedroom.

Then he turns to leave.

Thea’s narrowing eyes and her scrutinizing stare are not lost on him as he goes.

….

“Which way?”

“Down the hall, second right, first left, then fourth room down on the right.”

They’re halfway down the second hall when Oliver hears her scream as she falls to the ground with a thud, clutching her abdomen and stirring up dirt that dries out his throat and causes his eyes to water. He pauses to help her up but stops short, entire body freezing and joints locking.

Because he isn’t looking into the dark brown depths of the eyes of his fellow soldier and a girl he once loved.

He’s looking into bright blue eyes, swirling with confusion and pain and innocence.

He’s looking at Felicity.

“Oliver? What’s going on?”

Suddenly there’s silence. Then the sound of a gun cocking and the firing of a single shot. He watches the bullet slam into her lower back knocking her face first into the ground.

“Oliver!”

She screams out his name in agony as blood stains her already soiled clothes a dark red, almost black and seeps onto her hands where they clutch frantically at her flesh.

“No. Felicity. You’re not supposed to be here. This isn’t… you’re not supposed to be here.”

He watches in bewilderment as her blood pools on the floor beside her and her body spasms in pain.

“Oliver, it hurts! Make it stop! Please! Make it stop!”

He springs into action, dropping to her side and tearing off his uniform jacket, using it to apply pressure to the wound.

“I don’t understand. You’re not supposed to be here.”

Felicity sobs in pain, the blood flow seemingly getting worse.

“You promised! You promised me you would protect me!”

“I didn’t… No. This isn’t supposed to be you!”

Her rocking and spasms have stopped as the loss of blood weakens her. Now she lays in the sand and dirt, body convulsing involuntarily and eyes staring up at him in pain and anger.

“You lied. You’re a liar. This is your fault.”

“No. No, Felicity, please! Just stay with me, okay? I can fix this. I can save you!”

The life is quickly fading from her eyes and Oliver frantically searches for any sign of Slade for help.

“You promised you would protect me, always. But you didn’t.”

“No! NO!”

“You didn’t protect me, you can’t.”

“Felicity!”

….

He wakes in a state of panic and disorientation.  It’s dark and his eyes have a hard time adjusting as they dart around the room. His hands reach out, feeling for something he can’t quite remember.

Then his dream comes tumbling back to him.

Felicity was in his dream, in his nightmare. She was there and bleeding and dying. All because he couldn’t protect her, he couldn’t save her. He couldn’t save her just like he couldn’t save Sha – her.

It rattles Oliver to his core. Rationally, he knows it was only a nightmare, a subconscious fear given form. Felicity is fine. She wasn’t in Afghanistan and she didn’t die from the bullet that hit her shoulder. She’s alive and breathing. If he walked down the hall right now, he would find her asleep in her bedroom, most likely with Thea by her side.

But it still causes his hands to shake and his heart to pound heavily in his chest.

Nightmares are something Oliver knows intimately. He’s had them for years. Even before the war, he had nightmares about disappointment and loneliness. During it, they were filled with blood and violence.

But now, now they are a mix of everything he fears. They create feelings of loss and pain and terror and loneliness and disappointment and agony. It’s a tumultuous combination that leaves him feeling frenzied and hollow.

The clock on his bedside table reads five in the morning, too early to be awake but late enough that he can occupy his time until going into his office at Queen Consolidated. Adrenaline flows through his veins as he makes his way out of bed and towards his dresser. It puts him on edge, causes him to fidget and brings his senses on high alert.

Oliver grabs a pair of cargo pants and a t-shirt and heads to the bathroom to change before making his way down the hall, his destination being the in-home gym.

He pauses in front of Felicity’s door when he reaches it, fears not yet calmed. Images from his nightmare flash through his mind. Her bloodied hands and screams of agony. The life draining from her eyes as her voice weakened. His broken promise. His failure.

The next second he pushes the door open and steps into the room.

The soft light from the hall shines in, illuminating a path from the crack in the door to the bed. It reveals to Oliver exactly what he expected to see. Felicity is asleep in a position that he suspects is not overtly comfortable, but given her injury it’s most likely better than any other alternative. Thea lies next to her, mouth open and small snores escaping from it. She’s also hogging a majority of the covers.

The sight brings a small smile to his face and calms his racing heart, not completely erasing his fears but at least easing them slightly as he slowly backs out of the room and shuts the door quietly.

It’s almost an hour before anyone finds Oliver. And when someone does, it’s Digg.

They don’t talk. Digg doesn’t ask him what’s wrong because he doesn’t need to. They are both plagued by nightmares and demons that follow them around and haunt their every waking and sleeping hour. Some of them are the same, some of them different, all of them terrifying.

So instead of talking they work their frustration out physically, each of them grabbing a pair of boxing gloves and stepping onto the training mats. This is one thing Oliver can do that doesn’t send his head spinning. He doesn’t have to think, just move and breathe. It’s exactly what Oliver needs and he loses himself in the familiar training rhythm they’ve developed over the years.

….

“So, Oliver, how are things at Queen Consolidated? Are you learning all the tricks of the trade?”

Silverware clinks against plates as the bevy of businessmen and women enjoy the gourmet meal that their generous host has provided for them. Frank Bertinelli is all jovial smiles and polite conversation where he sits at the head of the table.

It’s only been Oliver’s second full week at Queen Consolidated and getting acclimated to the company and the business world is proving to be a difficult feat. People throw around terms and jargon they expect him to understand, forgetting that he dropped out of all four colleges he attended. It’s always busy, people speaking quickly and precisely and constantly moving. It’s a warzone of its own kind.

Luckily, the intern who acts more as an assistant, Bart or Bobby or something, is more than eager to help Oliver play catch up. He should really learn the kid’s name considering he’s the only thing keeping Oliver from drowning in blueprints and short-term transition plans and numbers reports.

“It’s been… interesting. I was never really involved in the company before I was deployed so I never knew just how much the employees there did. It has definitely given me a new perspective. I have a lot of great people helping me transition into it all.”

Of course, that’s not the only thing he’s juggling at the moment.

There’s also Felicity. Intelligent, beautiful, young Felicity whom he can’t seem to stay away from. No matter how strained things are between them, he gravitates towards her. There's an overwhelming need to be near her, one he's never felt with another person before.

Oliver isn't an idiot. He knows what it means. It means he has feelings for her other than physical attraction. He has feelings for a girl twelve years his minor. And as if that weren't problematic enough, his family has practically adopted her these past two years. But apparently Oliver’s body and subconscious don’t seem to care about that because he is quickly becoming enamored with all things Felicity Smoak.

The way she looks in the hot pink dress she is currently wearing, for example.

It’s a relief to see her up and on her feet again. Where Oliver spent the past week in a hectic frenzy of business reports and engineering designs, Felicity had spent it in bed watching some show on Netflix that was apparently all the rage, something about a hooded vigilante who was stranded on an island and learned Russian even though he was in China. That’s all Oliver really gathered from what she told him, too preoccupied with the way her lips caressed the words as they left her mouth in enthusiasm.

He had checked in on her briefly in person, during which time she protested her forced bedridden state, and kept a near constant communication with Digg about how she was doing. It had gotten to the point where his friend had told him to just go talk to her and see for himself on more than one occasion.

And now they’re eating dinner with the man who may or may not be targeting her.

“I’m glad to hear it. I know things must be overwhelming for you with everything going on. That reminds me. Ms. Smoak, how are you doing darling?”

The grip Oliver has on the knife in his hand tightens when Bertinelli addresses Felicity. His eyes slide to the right, where she sits beside him. Oliver made sure to stay close to her all evening, going as far as to insist that she sit next to him at the dinner table. That had garnered a few looks from Felicity and Thea but no one else had seemed to notice his insistence.

“I’m doing much better, thank you for asking.”

She has no idea, no idea that the man who just inquired about her wellbeing could possibly be the reason such a question is even necessary.

“I’m glad to hear it. I saw what happened on the news the other day. Oliver said you were recovering when we met earlier this week. It’s good to see how well you are doing in person.”

Oliver’s eyes dart about the room, surveying his surroundings and studying Bertinelli’s security measures, now on high alert. As if he wasn’t already.

“That’s really kind of you. I’m fine, still a little shaken and my shoulder is a bit sore, but the doctors said I should be back to normal within a few weeks tops. It was just a graze and a concussion. Nothing major.”

“That’s relieving to hear. The violence in this city sometimes is just appalling. Do the police have any leads?”

Oliver wills Felicity with all his might to say no. Just say no. Bertinelli is fishing for details and the less he knows, the better.

“No. They weren’t able to identify either shooter. They don’t even know if it was the same guy or not.”

“Oh, well, I am sorry to hear that.” He doesn’t look the least bit sorry to Oliver. “Hopefully the good task force of this city will find a lead soon.”

Moira speaks up then, pleasant smile on her face. But Oliver can see the flash in her eyes that she used to get whenever he or Thea was in trouble. It’s fierce, protective.

“Yes, well, in the mean time let’s not dwell on it. Leave that to the police, shall we?”

“I agree with my wife. Frank, how’s business doing? ”

And just like that the topic is changed.

It’s a bit incredible to watch. For a second, his parents were the old tag team he remembers from when he was younger. They used to work a room seamlessly together, knowing exactly how to play off each other and the surrounding company. It’s what made them so successful in the business world. To see that again, this time in defense of Felicity, is a testament to just how much they have both come to care about her, to see her as their own.

The rest of dinner continues on without a hitch and they’re all ushered into a sitting room for after-dinner drinks. Oliver is speaking with Bertinelli’s daughter and her fiance when Bertinelli leaves the room. Oliver watches the man excuse himself from the conversation he was having with Moira and Robert, most likely about the Defense Tech project. A few minutes later he catches sight of Felicity as she and Thea leave the room together as well.

Now more than ever Oliver wishes Digg had accompanied them tonight. When he had insisted upon it earlier, Moira had refused. She had spoken with Bertinelli about the security measures without Oliver’s knowledge and the man was all too happy to provide his own service for the evening. Since Oliver couldn’t very well come out and admit to “borrowing” law enforcement-only information on Bertinelli, he couldn’t give his mother a good enough reason as to why it was necessary.

Oliver gives it two minutes before excusing himself and making his way out of the room.

His pace picks up double time the second he’s out of sight of the other guests in the sitting room. The only place he can think of that the two girls would be going to is the restroom. Unless Thea talked Felicity into exploring the place, in which case finding them is going to be near impossible.

When he gets to the restroom neither one of them is in there.

Oliver hurries down the halls as panic begins to set in. He tries not to make a sound, not wanting to call the attention of Bertinelli’s security detail. But as he peeks through open doors and hastens down hallways, careful to remember the path he takes, Oliver starts to become desperate. There’s not sign of either girl and the house is so large that he’s only just finished with the left wing of the bottom level of the house. They could be anywhere.

The corridors and dark corners start to shift and blur as he moves through them. They flash from clean, antique filled places of living for the idle rich to hot, unrefined dirt walls meant to imprison people. Oliver shakes his head in an attempt to expel the visions but they stay with him. One minute he’s pacing the halls of Bertinelli’s mansion, the next he’s running through the sand and dirt filled corridors of an Afghani holding facility.

Images from his nightmare earlier this week flood his memory and his vision.

Felicity lying on the hard dirt ground in confusion.

The bullet launching into her lower back, tearing through her abdomen.

Blood pooling around her and staining her hands as she sobs and screams at him.

The life draining from her accusing and betrayed eyes.

This is your fault

You didn’t protect me, you can’t.

NO. This isn’t happening. This isn’t real.

Oliver’s breaths come in short, quick pants as the nightmare begins to assault his senses. He pauses in his search to take in air. This can’t happen. Not now. Felicity is in danger and she needs him. She’s not hurt yet. He has to push through this.

10… 9… 8…

Counting down, although it seems childish, is something Oliver learned to help him refocus after his first traumatizing mission.

7… 6… 5…

Five more seconds. That’s the time he gives himself to expel this panic.

4… 3… 2…

Deep breath in, let it out slowly. Focus on the goal.

1.

Find Felicity.

It takes him an additional five minutes, hands still trembling slightly but breathing now under control, until he finally spots them.

Felicity and Thea stand outside of a door pushed slightly ajar, looking very much like they are spying on someone. Relief floods through him and begins to truly settle his mind when he sees that they are unharmed.

Felicity spots Oliver first and quickly rights herself while pulling Thea with her. They try to look innocent as he makes his way over to them, but it’s a bit late for that. Only as he gets closer he sees something else in their expressions, Felicity’s especially. They almost look… shocked, scared.

“What are you two doing?”

“We were just looking for the little girls room. This place is so big we got lost on the way.”

Thea composes herself first, easily putting on an air of relaxed self-assurance. But Felicity still looks shaken and confused.

“Really? Because you would have passed it on the way here.”

“Like I said, it’s a big house. We got lost.”

Thea’s stare is challenging, full of steely will. The only chink in her armor is the hand reaching behind her that holds onto Felicity’s.

“Why don’t I help you guys find your way back?”

“An escort by the Oliver Queen, what an honor. Lead the way, brother dearest.”

He chooses to let this slide, for now. Whatever happened it’s obviously causing Felicity distress. The last thing he wants to do is force her into something she’s not ready for.

That applies to a lot more than just this situation.

The important thing is that Felicity’s okay, for the most part. She’s not being held hostage or tortured or worse. She’s alive and breathing and standing in front of him no worse for the wear. She’s okay.

Oliver lets the truth settle in his bones and calm him down as they walk back to the sitting room.

The remainder of the evening is smooth sailing, well as much as it can be. Bertinelli returns not long after them. He quickly engages Oliver, Robert, and Moira in a conversation about partnering with Queen Consolidated. The man knows how to talk shop, Oliver will give him that, and seems to win his parents over, even though they don’t give him a definite answer. Ultimately the decision is Oliver’s and he’s still not sure which is the best move in this game they’re playing. So he puts it off, once again, this time asking Bertinelli to send a draft of his business proposal to the Applied Sciences Division.

While all of this is important, he continues to keep an eye on Felicity. Her and Thea sit to the side, huddled together and whispering to each other on occasion. It’s the way they’re sitting though that really grabs his attention. They’re sharing one of the small couches and even though there’s room enough for both of them, Thea is perched on the edge while Felicity sinks into the back cushions. It’s a protective stance, like Thea can somehow shield whatever happened from getting to Felicity anymore than it already has.

First Moira, then Robert, and now Thea. Felicity may not have much of a relationship with her biological relatives but she has a family that is willing to do just about anything for her in the Queens.

And Oliver. He’s doesn’t know where he falls in the equation, as family or something else entirely, but she has him. She has him, totally and completely wrapped around her fingers and honestly, he’s not sure he wants to be unwound.

If that makes him wrong, then he’s learning that you can’t always be right.

Chapter Text

Felicity's outfits: QC, training

....

They go another two days without really speaking to each other aside from the occasional exchange of pleasantries. And it drives Oliver crazy. He had thought that after their moment in her room and the few occasions he checked in on her last week that maybe things wouldn’t be as strained as he expected. He wasn’t wrong but he wasn’t right either. They interact, they talk, but the openness they shared since his return has taken a major hit. It’s unsettling even though he knows he brought this on himself. He was fully aware of the possible outcomes of pulling the sister card on Felicity and he did it anyway. His regret is beat out only slightly by his need to protect her from the dark and damaged parts of himself as well as the scrutiny and judgment that would come with any romantic entanglement between them.

Still, come lunchtime he finds himself rounding the corner to where she works at Queen Consolidated with the other interns. As he suspected, she’s working alone, caught up in the task at hand on her tablet. Digg stands just outside of the work area and after a silent exchange of head nods between him and Oliver, leaves the cubicle.

Oliver stands there, waiting for Felicity to notice him, and takes the time to really look at her.

It’s Felicity’s first day back on the job since getting shot at a week ago. The wound and bandage on her shoulder are hidden underneath the sleeve of her beige and white polka dot blouse. She’s completely engrossed in whatever she’s doing on her tablet. He can see the deep concentration on her face, her teeth chewing on the nail of her thumb as she reads. Which, of course, draws his attention to her mouth, painted a bright pink to match her dress pants. It makes them look that much fuller and kissable.

Oliver quickly clears his throat to gain her attention and disrupt that line of thought.

“Hey.”

Felicity all but jumps in her seat, barely avoiding dropping her tablet to the floor.

“Oliver! Geez, don’t you knock?”

“Felicity, this is the IT department. Not the ladies’ room.”

The glare she gives him before quickly locking her tablet and setting it aside makes him smile. Her hands flutter about, shuffling papers and various items in a manner that looks like she’s trying to discreetly organize her work area and failing. The way she quickly folds down the flaps of the Chinese takeout box next to her and moves it behind a computer monitor only causes his grin to widen.

“Yes, well most people with manners still knock instead of sneaking up on people and giving them mini heart attacks. You keep that up and I won’t even live to be as old as you. Not that you’re old. I mean that was kind of the point of the statement. Because you’re not old and if you give me a heart attack then I wouldn’t even live to be not old, too. Does that make sense?”

That one actually causes him to release an audible laugh. God, he’s missed her babbling. He’s missed how happy he is around her.

“I’m going to assume that you didn’t come here just to laugh at me, because that would be rude, so what can I do for you, Mr. Queen?”

The formality in her tone throws him off. It’s not something he’s used to with her.

“I, uh, just wanted to see how you were doing on your first day back.”

“Well, no one tried to kill me walking in so I’d take that as a positive. No one slipped poison into my coffee when I wasn’t looking, also a plus. Although there was a really sketchy looking plant in the lobby on my way up. Might wanna send security to check on that.”

Oliver lets out a frustrated sigh before making his way over and seating himself in the empty chair beside hers.

“Felicity, you know I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

“Isn’t that what Digg is for? By the way, sending the personal bodyguard away while on duty kind of defeats the purpose of having one.”

She’s just not going to make this easy for him, is she?

“I gave him a break. You’re just as safe with me as you are with him. He did help train me, after all.”

“I wasn’t doubting your capability.”

No, she was just trying to avoid being alone with him.

There’s an awkward, tension filled silence between them. A moment so different from the comfortable silences they used to share. Being together used to be natural, easy but now he’s forced this wall between them and he hates it.

“How has your day been?”

Please, please say something, anything. He needs her to talk to him.

“It’s fine. Busy. My shoulder is hurting a little bit but it’s manageable.”

Oliver really doesn’t think his next course of action through very well.

Rolling his chair over, he stands up behind Felicity. She’s turned her attention back to her tablet momentarily so when his hands gently land on her injured shoulder, she lets out a small squeak of surprise, caught off-guard by his unexpected movement.

“Sorry, I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, just… surprised. What, what are you doing?”

His hands ghost across the skin of her shoulder, the top of which is covered by the sheer fabric of her blouse.

“I’ve had my fair share of bullet wounds. This is something I learned to help with the stiffness that comes along with it. Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

He starts off light, barely putting any pressure on her shoulder, testing the waters to see how sensitive the wound and surrounding area still are. His fingers dance across her skin in gentle swirls, careful to avoid direct contact with her injury. When she doesn’t protest, he adds more pressure to his movements, beginning to massage the stiff muscles in her shoulder. He pays close attention to her body language, lightening his touch and avoiding certain areas when she tenses and pressing with more force when she relaxes. It’s completely clinical.

Until it isn’t.

At some point, one of Oliver’s hands slips beneath the loose-fitting material of Felicity’s sleeve. His fingers circle around her soft skin as he gently kneads her tender shoulder. He must hit a particularly good spot because her heads lulls to the side and a breathy sound escapes her parted lips. It causes his mind to go straight to less than clinical thoughts of her making that sound, only louder and in very different circumstances, circumstances that involve his bed and much less clothing.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah, feels good.”

It’s like a fog has invaded his mind, filling every corner and wrapping around his better judgment, hiding it from view. He should stop, especially because he has no right to objectify Felicity like this when she’s so unsuspecting and trusting of him to take care of her. But he doesn’t because he selfishly wants to hear that sound again, knowing he’s the cause of it.

“Mmmm… Right there.”

Jesus Christ.

Oliver has had his fair share of women in his days, probably more than his fair share to be quite honest. He’s done some pretty kinky things and heard some pretty obscene noises. But none of that ever had his heart racing and blood pumping as fast or as hard, pun unfortunately on point in this situation, as Felicity does and she hasn’t even touched him. Hell, she’s not even trying to be sexy in the least. But she is and when did his hands start traveling away from her shoulder?

“Hey big brother there you… are…”

Oliver all but throws himself into the chair he previously occupied and quickly crosses his legs as Felicity swivels around in her seat to face their intruder.

“Hey Thea! What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were stopping by today. You didn’t tell me, right? I swear I would have remembered that. No, right here my calendar says lunch on Wednesday and today is definitely Monday. Guess I’ll live another day without receiving the ‘Worst Best Friend/Lunch Date’ award. So, what brings you by?”

A glance over at Felicity reveals heated cheeks and wide eyes. She’s flustered just as much as he is. It’s a little bit satisfying to see, not that Oliver will ever admit to that outside of his own thoughts.

“I came by to see if Ollie wanted to grab lunch but he wasn’t in his office. The intern, I think his name was Barry, told me you would be here. I can come back if now’s not a good time.”

The last part is directed right at Oliver, complete with raised eyebrow and trademark Thea Queen smirk.

Oh, he’s in trouble now.

“No, now is,” he pauses to clear his throat because when did it get so low, “now is perfect. I was just taking a look at Felicity’s shoulder.”

“Really? I didn’t know you got a medical degree while you were overseas. Should I be calling you doctor?”

“I did have medical training, you know. And I have first hand experience with gunshot wounds. Didn’t you say you wanted to get lunch?”

Felicity has busied herself with tidying the already organized surface of her work area, avoiding looking at either Oliver or her best friend.

“I did. Felicity, you coming with?”

The girl in question turns from her task at hand to face the youngest Queen.

“I would, Thee, but I’m trying to catch up on all the work I missed while I was out last week. We’re still on for Wednesday though. You guys enjoy your sibling bonding.”

She throws a smile at Thea before swiveling around in her chair, effectively ending the conversation without looking at Oliver once.

“Okay, then. Let’s go Big Brother. I’m starving and in the mood for that new Thai place down the street. I heard they serve food in pineapples instead of plates!”

And just like that, Hurricane Thea whisks Oliver away before he can even so much as say goodbye to Felicity.

….

The conversation between the two Queen siblings doesn’t take a turn for the danger zone until they’re both enjoying the beginning stages of their meal, Thea happily eating from a carved out pineapple and Oliver aimlessly twirling spicy noodles around his fork, mind still caught up in his previous exchange with Felicity.

“So, how’s working with the big wigs? Is it everything you’ve ever dreamed of?”

She sarcastically hums out the word dreamed, knowing full well that Oliver would rather be doing anything but dressing in suits and making small talk all day under the expectant gazes of their parents.

“Oh yeah, it’s everything from my wildest fantasies.”

“You can stop right there. I don’t need nor do I want to know about your kinky office fantasies with Felicity.”

What an unfortunate time to choose to take a sip of his drink.

Thea’s comment has Oliver inhaling sharply, causing some of the carbonated beverage to go down the wrong pipe. He quickly dissolves into a coughing fit and grabs the silk napkin from his lap to cover his mouth. Thea sits across from him, eating her food with a knowing smirk plastered across her face.

Once he’s finally calmed down, Oliver takes a considerable swig of his drink to clear his throat.

“What are you talking about?”

“Please, Ollie. I’m seventeen. I know what a fantasy is.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh you mean the part about Felicity? I’m not blind. I see what’s going on.”

“You do?”

The fact that she’s so calm is baffling to Oliver. Considering how Thea reacted when she caught Felicity leaving his bedroom the other week, he didn’t think she would be so… casual about this.

“Yeah. I mean, I know I freaked on you the other week about it but I’ve seen the way you look at her and how you act with her. It’s not the way you used to when all you wanted was to get into some girl’s pants. You genuinely care for her and I know she cares for you, too. Don’t ask me why, she just does. You guys aren’t exactly subtle about it with all the lingering touches and wistful gazes and such. It’s a miracle I’m the only one who’s caught on.”

“What exactly do you think you’ve caught onto, Speedy?”

“You and Felicity are dating, obviously.”

The fork he had picked up in a grasp for control clatters against his plate as he drops it.

“We aren’t dating.”

“Okay, I know I wigged out on you the other night about her leaving your room, but that was more because I was still angry about the Shane thing. Also, I really couldn’t resist messing with you about the age difference. Who would give up a golden opportunity like that? But seriously, you can be honest with me.”

“I am. Felicity and I are not dating.”

For once in the conversation Thea looks confused, no longer having the upper hand.

“But I thought… then what was with all the touching and then the avoiding followed by the,” she lowers her voice several octaves and makes it scratchy in imitation of him he assumes, “I’m so glad your okay, Felicity. I love you, Felicity. Let’s get married, Felicity.”

I love you.

No. No, he does not need to dwell on those words right now. He just accepted the fact that his feelings for Felicity are beyond platonic and not just physical. It is way too soon to be thinking about that. In fact, he’s not even sure there should be an acceptable time to think about that ever.

“Okay, first of all, I only said one of those things. Second of all, she’s just a friend, like a sister even.”

Thea is overcome by a laughing fit so hard that it brings tears to her eyes. She clutches at her stomach in an effort to regain control and takes a few deep breathes before speaking.

“If that’s your definition of a sister then we need to find you a dictionary and maybe watch a couple episodes of the Brady Bunch or any other show featuring sibling relationships. Except no Life With Derek because that was a stone’s throw away from step-cest.”

Step – he figures it’s better not to ask.

“Thea, it’s not like that. It can’t be like that.”

“But you want it to be.”

It’s a statement, not a question.

“Even if I did, we couldn’t be.”

“And why the hell not? You like her. She likes you. I’m not seeing the problem here.”

Oliver sighs in frustration, reaching a hand up to drag it through his hair.

“The problem is she’s seventeen. You said so yourself, she’s almost half my age. If we were together the press would chew her up and spit her out. She’s already under enough scrutiny as it is with Karen’s trial coming up. I won’t add to the list of hardships she’s already going through.”

“Spare the drama, Ollie. Sure, some people will be uncomfortable with the idea but who cares? It’s your life and Felicity’s, not theirs. You shouldn’t let what others consider to be ‘right’ and ‘acceptable’ hold you back from being happy. They’ll get over it eventually. Plus, you would be surprised how open-minded some people can be nowadays.”

“Thea, it’s not that simple. Especially with our family and you know it. Think about the bad press it would give Karen’s trial and Queen Consolidated and the Defense Tech project.”

“It’s as simple, or as difficult, as you make it. Is it going to be easy? No, probably not. I’m not telling you to declare your undying love on a billboard for all of Starling to see. I’m just telling you that you deserve to be happy and those who love and care about you will want the same thing. It might take some adjustment, but that’s their problem not yours.”

Thea leans back in her seat, picking up her glass to take a sip while Oliver takes in everything she’s just said.

She has a point. The people who care about and matter to Oliver and Felicity should support what makes them happy. The problem is that’s not necessarily the case one hundred percent of the time. The idea of a thirty-year-old with a seventeen or eighteen year old can be very unsettling. It’s obvious that Thea doesn’t have a problem with it, because she’s young. But there are a lot more people to think about in the situation, his parents, for example. Even if he can ignore the paparazzi and the press, he can’t very well ignore the people whose roof he lives under, even if he had been thinking about getting his own apartment.

But Thea was right about another thing. He doesn’t have to publicize his relationship with Felicity to the world. They could keep it quiet, strictly platonic in the public eye. Only that feels unfair to Felicity. She deserves someone who can be with her openly and freely and not just physically or behind closed doors.

“Oliver, I care about you and I care about Felicity. If there are other reasons, legitimate reasons that have to do with just the two of you, then I’m not telling you to rush into a relationship that is definitely going to be a bit complicated. But if her age and the public scrutiny are the only things holding you back, then screw it all. I know I’ve been angry with you and that we haven’t been on the best of terms since you came home, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you and your happiness. You both deserve to be happy. Everyone does.”

And just like that, the strain that has been present on his relationship with Thea lifts. He can hear the silent apology in her words and can see the sincerity in her eyes.

“I know you do, Speedy. I also know that it wasn’t easy for you here, either. I never wanted to leave you behind. It was never about you. If it were, I would have stayed, no question. Joining the Army, it was just something I had to do for me.”

“I get that now. And I think it’s time that you make another decision for you. Just, be happy, Oliver. At the end of the day that’s all that matters.”

It’s funny how six years ago he sat in a tree house across from a different girl with glasses that slipped off her nose and eyes slightly too wide for her face, who told him something similar. Felicity and Thea may be very different to outsiders looking in, but to Oliver, they’re the same at their cores. They both have the purest of hearts and only want what’s best for those around them. That’s what binds their friendship.

“Just think about it. Okay, Ollie?”

“Okay.”

That signals the end of their conversation, for now. Oliver and Thea spend the next few minutes finishing their meals and discussing much lighter topics, like her summer internship at some high-end boutique or Tommy and Laurel’s wedding plans, which are very limited at the moment seeing as both of them are swamped with work. It’s probably going to be a long engagement.

The siblings make their way out of the restaurant after Oliver pays the bill and wait for the town car to come pick up Thea. When the car arrives, she envelopes Oliver in a tight hug that he returns with equal fervor.

“I love you, Ollie, and I’m really, really glad that your home.”

“I love you too, Speedy.”

She presses a gentle kiss to his cheek before sliding into the back seat of the town car. Once the door is closed, the window rolls downward.

“For the record, Felicity turns eighteen on Friday. If you wanted to drop by Verdant – I was just being polite you don’t really have a choice – you’ll find her there celebrating because I’m throwing her a party. Lots of inebriated people who won’t remember things and dark corners to hide in. I’m just saying. See you at home!”

Oliver shakes his head at his younger sister and her persistence as the car pulls out into traffic. She’s not going to let this go.

….

“Security at Queen Consolidated could use some work.”

The two trained men don’t loose pace as they talk, shuffling around the mats as the wooden sticks they wield as weapons collide in a considerably steady rhythm.

“I know. I noticed it on the first day I walked in. Also, I’m thinking about getting my own place. You have any suggestions on both fronts?”

Oliver makes a swipe at Digg’s shoulder, narrowly missing before ducking out of the way of his friend’s counterattack.

“A few. We can discuss this in detail later. Now come on, you going soft or something now that you’re home? Don’t lose steam on me now, Queen.”

The men exchange teasing remarks and get a few soft blows in until they’re interrupted by a figure in the doorway.

Felicity stands there, hair pulled back tightly in it’s usual ponytail. But that’s the only thing that’s usual in her appearance. Her glasses are nowhere to be seen, traded in for contacts and giving Oliver an unhindered view of her bright blue eyes. A somewhat loose fitting tank top with large arm cutouts reveals the floral pattern of her sports bra. Black, cropped workout pants hug her legs, outlining their shape and definition. It’s a completely different look from the usual skirts and dresses but she still looks just as beautiful and as usual the sight of her causes Oliver’s breath to catch in his throat.

“Uhm, sorry to interrupt your whole – uh – grrrr.”

Felicity makes a half hiss, half growling noise and mimes claws with her hands in an adorable gesture.

“Not a problem. What can we do for ya?”

Her teeth worry at her bottom lip as she contemplates how to answer Diggle’s question. Then she takes a deep breath in and lets it out, looking straight at Oliver.

“I want you to fight me. I mean not fight me, fight me. But attack me and then tell me how to react. As in, instruct me on what to do. I want you to teach me how to fight.”

That was not at all what Oliver was expecting her to say.

“You… want me to train you?”

“Yes, well, one of you. Or both of you. If that’s not going to cause too much trouble.”

But why would she need to learn how to fight? Felicity should never be in any situation where she would need to know that, especially with Diggle and him around to protect her.

“I think it’s a good idea.”

“What?”

“Really?”

Oliver turns to look at Diggle questioningly as his and Felicity’s exclamations ring and mingle in the air.

“Yeah. Think about it. We know someone is after Felicity, who has come after her twice now. Both times were unfortunately close calls but from a far away range. Whoever this guy is, he’s going to change tactics soon.”

“And you or I will be close to her to make sure nothing happens.”

Felicity doesn’t need to learn how to fight. She doesn’t need to be exposed to the violence he’s learned. The violence he’s used to hurt people, kill people when necessary.

“Oliver, you and I both know that’s not always the case. Tactically speaking this is a good idea. We should have thought about this already.”

“Wait, seriously? I mean yeah, see. Diggle thinks it’s a good idea, too.”

Oliver takes a step closer to Felicity. Close enough so that he’s just invaded her personal space but not enough that she should feel scared or threatened. It’s meant to intimidate her, to deter her from this argument that he really doesn’t want to have.

“This isn’t up for discussion, Felicity.”

To his surprise, she takes a step towards him, getting a little too close for comfort but he refuses to back down.

“Like hell it isn’t. Digg thinks it’s a good idea and so do I, obviously or I wouldn’t have brought it up. What’s the problem here? I’m not some weak little girl who sits around and waits for bad things to happen to her.”

“I know that. I know you’re not weak, Felicity. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

What’s the problem? The problem is that Felicity should never be in this position to begin with. The problem is that she shouldn’t need to learn how to defend herself. The implications of what that kind of situation could be don’t sit well with him, at all.

But he can’t explain that out loud. He can barely explain it in his head as is.

So instead, Oliver hangs his head low and sighs in defeat before looking back up to meet her gaze.

“You said this morning that your shoulder was still bothering you. It’s only been a week since...”

It’s his last ditch effort and he knows it won’t be enough to deter her.

“I took my pain meds, iced it, heated it, and now it feels fine. If it bothers me or starts hurting I’ll let you know.”

The look in her eyes dares him to defy her, to make up some excuse. It’s fire and determination and damn it if it doesn’t turn him on a little. Or a lot. But then again it seems everything she does has that affect on him these days. And he really needs to stop this thought process because he just agreed, more or less, to help train her. Which means he will be in extremely close proximity with her body for the next however long it takes.

“If that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want.”

She snaps around, ponytail nearly flicking him in the face due to their proximity and he gets a whiff of her perfume. It’s light, slightly floral but not too sweet. It’s also not overpowering, just the smallest hint of a scent that sends his imagination buzzing.

“So, Digg, where should we start?”

Fifteen minutes later Oliver has decided that this is what hell feels like.

Felicity is currently pressed backwards against his chest while his arms wrap around her, grabbing onto her wrists. Digg decided the best way to train Felicity would be to teach her how to escape different attacker holds. It’s a defensive technique, which Oliver is forever grateful for because Felicity is too small to be fighting against anyone. Both he and Digg made it very clear that she is to escape and run. Engaging in a fight will do nothing for her.

But he also can’t stand it at the same time because it means that he has to grab onto Felicity and bring her close to him in as many ways possible while Digg explains to her how to escape. There has already been one too many close calls with her brushing up against things she should not be brushing up against if he’s supposed to keep any semblance of control. On top of that, he’s also actively avoiding putting pressure on her shoulder.

“Okay, Felicity, now you’re going to push back into Oliver. When someone grabs you like that, your first instinct is going to be to try to pull away. But by backing into him you use his own momentum against him.”

He braces for it, knowing that her small, warm body is about to push back against his much larger one.

“Like this?”

Yes, like that.

No, not like that.

Mother of God please make it stop.

“Yeah good, now if you had momentum and were taking an attacker off guard he would falter back a step.” Oh right, he’s supposed to step back. “Then what you want to do is guide both arms out to your side, push up, and then back down in the center."

The first time she does it is slow and experimental so it’s easy for Oliver to maintain his grip. Once Digg tells her that she’s doing it right, she tries again with a little more force. Again, it’s not enough and Oliver stays strong in his hold. A few more times and she’s able to loosen his grip enough to free one hand. Throughout it all, Oliver constantly checks her face and the way she holds herself for any signs of pain or discomfort. So far he’s seen none.

“Okay, let’s try it with Oliver grabbing you so you can combine both the push backwards and the wrist roll. It might be the extra bit you need to escape both holds.”

“Sounds good.”

Oliver takes the opportunity to ask her about her injury incase he missed a flinch or a sign of pain.

“How’s your shoulder doing?”

“It’s fine, a little sore but nothing worse than earlier.”

“You sure? We can take a break or call it a day, pick training up when it’s less sensitive.”

Diggle chimes into the conversation and Oliver’s thankful that he’s not the only one being mindful of her wellbeing. He wouldn’t expect anything less from his former brother in arms.

“Thanks but it’s all good, coach. Now let’s get this show on the road.”

Diggle and Oliver both smirk at that because it’s just so Felicity. She bounces to the side of the mat, ponytail swinging back and forth with her gait. The word mesmerizing definitely does not come to mind.

Oliver calls out to her to distract himself.

“You ready, Felicity?”

“Yeah, hit me with your best shot.”

She keeps her back to him but he can see the determination in her stance. Her feet are planted, shoulders tense as she waits for his attack. Only he doesn’t come at her right away. If she’s going to train for a real life situation, she needs to be prepared to be taken by surprise.

Oliver glances over at Diggle, nodding to silently communicate that he understands what to do and that this is his plan. His friends nods in understanding and takes a step away.

“Oliver, I said I was – “

Felicity is about to turn around so he takes that as his opportunity to grab her. A surprised squeal leaves her lips as she’s caught off guard. It takes her a little longer than it should to react but when she does, she follows her training, falling back into him and using the momentum against him. Only she falls back into all the wrong, or right, places and it causes his steady footing to slip, sending them both tumbling to the mat.

The minute Oliver’s back hits the cool, synthetic material of the mat, instinct and years of training kick in. He slides out from under Felicity, rolling them over so that he’s no longer beneath her. Reaching down quickly, his hands snatch at he wrists and pin them on either side of her head, legs dropping to the outside of her hips to straddle her waist and pin her down.

For a moment when Oliver’s eyes meet hers, he flashes back to that night in his bed almost three weeks ago when he had attacked her. He had trapped her in a similar position then. But it’s her eyes that really get him because just like that night there’s no sign of fear in them now. She trusts him not to hurt her, even when he looses control and gives way to his military instincts she still trusts him.

An entirely different instinct starts to take over then. Because also like that night, when her blonde hair had fanned out behind her head on his sheets, cheeks flushed an oh-so-appealing pink, now Felicity’s hair is spread across the training mat. Her breath comes in soft pants, synchronized with the rapid rise and fall of her chest brushing against Oliver’s as his own breathing starts to pick up.

He doesn’t realize he’s begun putting some of his weight on her until she lets out a whimper of pain.

“Uhm… Ouch. Oliver, you’re hurting my shoulder.”

He’s off her in seconds, gently helping her shift into an upright position with one hand placed on her lower back and the other on her good shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Felicity. Are you okay? How badly does it hurt? Do you need ice? Ibuprofen? A heating pad?”

She stares at Oliver like he’s grown a second head. It’s possible he’s overreacting but he’d rather be safe than sorry when it comes to her health, always.

“I’m… fine. Thanks. But I do think that’s it for me for the evening.”

Good. If Felicity thought he was going to continue tonight’s impromptu training session after injuring her shoulder then she had another thing coming.

“You did good, girl. Maybe once your shoulder’s out of remission we can train you with a couple of offensive moves. Maybe teach you how to shoot a gun.”

Oliver’s head snaps up to look at his friend.

“Digg, don’t you think that’s taking it a little far?”

“Hey man, it was just a suggestion. It might not be such a bad idea. But of course only if that’s something you’re comfortable with, Felicity.”

Her lips tuck together for a second in contemplation before rolling back out as she drags in a breath.

“I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet. But thank you, I appreciate the offer.”

“Of course. Whatever you’re comfortable with, Felicity. We’ll go at your speed. Now, I’m gonna head off to the guest wing for the night. I’ll leave you two to chat for a second.”

Diggle gives Felicity a smile before making his exit, patting Oliver on the back as he passes.

There’s an awkward pause where neither Felicity nor Oliver really knows what to say. Which is rare because Felicity almost always has something to say.

“Hey, Felicity – “

“Oliver would you – “

They both start and stop talking at the same time, causing them each to let out an awkward, uncomfortable laugh.

“Ladies first.”

“Uhm, I was just wondering, would you mind walking with me? To my room?” When he doesn’t respond at first Felicity quickly continues on. “Or not. I’m sure you have something else more important to do. I just thought since we live on the same hall… Forget I asked. I’ll just go.”

She’s already turning to leave and out of his reach before the last words finish leaving her mouth.

“Felicity, hey, I’ll walk with you. I’m heading back upstairs anyway.”

“Oh, okay.”

The smile on her face makes something jump in his chest and Oliver thinks he’ll never get over the thrill of being the cause of her happiness, however fleeting it may be.

They walk in silence for a bit, Felicity occasionally rolling her shoulder. Neither one of them breaks the bubble until they’re walking down the hall towards her room.

“I’m sorry about how I reacted to you asking to be trained. I just… the training, it makes this a lot more real. I know it’s ultimately your call. You just caught me off guard.”

He doesn’t look over to see her reaction, instead staring straight ahead. But he can almost feel the jolt of surprise go through her at his admission.

“Thank you, for admitting that. I don’t have a lot of control over the situation and this, learning how to defend myself; it gives me at least a little bit of that back. If there are people out there targeting me, for a still unknown reason, it makes me feel marginally better knowing that I’m not completely defenseless.”

That is something Oliver can understand. He’s been left defenseless before. It’s not a feeling he cares to revisit often.

“Just don’t go starting and street brawls, okay Tiger?”

Felicity laughs softly as she turns to face him, having arrived at her door. She bounces lightly back and forth on her feet and brings her fists up in a very intimidating fighting stance.

“What’s the matter? Scared I’m gonna go on a one woman crusade to save the city? Single handedly stop war and spread world peace? What would they call me? What would I wear? Probably something black and leather because that’s – oh whoa!”

Oliver reaches out to catch Felicity as she trips backwards, trying to stop her from slamming her bad shoulder against the door. One of his hands braces against the door by the side of her head, the other wraps around her waist to hold onto her. It softens to blow but doesn’t completely prevent them from falling into the door with a soft thud.

“Ouch.”

The word is only a light groan when it leaves her mouth but Oliver's hand travels from Felicity's waist to gently splay across the back of her shoulder blade anyway, fingers gently pressing circles into the tender area.

"You okay?"

When did his voice lower several octaves without his knowledge?

"Uh huh..."

When did hers get so breathy?

His fingers continue their ministrations against her skin as the pair stands in silence, eyes never leaving the other’s. He watches as hers darken and flutter shut for a moment before opening again as she swallows deeply, an action he unconsciously mirrors. When her tongue peeks out to lick at her bottom lip he almost loses it, almost says ‘to hell with it’ and closes the few inches remaining between them.

But then Felicity’s tiny clenched fist taps his jaw lightly and it’s what he needs to pull back.

“Got you. Shouldn’t have let your guard down. Isn’t that the first thing they teach you? Always be aware of your surroundings?”

He let’s out a weak laugh at her attempt to break the very obvious tension between them and slowly begins to pull away, arm dropping from her back as he pushes himself off the door with the other.

“Yeah, you got me.”

They stand across from each other in silence for a few seconds.

“I should probably go. I’m really dirty and need a shower. Not, like, dirty but just, you know... From all the working out we did together. As in Digg training us in completely appropriate methods of self-defense. Okay, yeah, I’m gonna go before I embarrass myself even more. Goodnight, Oliver.”

“Goodnight – “ the door all but slams in his face as she makes her hasty exit “ – Felicity.”

Yeah, she’s got him.

She’s got him for as long as she wants him.

Chapter Text

Felicity's outfits: QC/lunch, birthday party

Thea's outfit: morning/lunch

....

It’s Friday.

Usually, Friday means the end of the workweek for Oliver. Maybe grabbing dinner with Laurel and Tommy or going out for drinks. Maybe attending some fancy gala or fundraiser he doesn’t particularly want to be at. But not this Friday.

Oliver lays awake in bed at least an hour before his alarm is set to go off, he doesn’t know why he even bothers using that thing anymore, and stares at the ceiling. It shouldn’t feel any different, like today stands out from any other Friday. However it does and he knows why.

It’s Felicity’s birthday.

It’s Felicity’s eighteenth birthday.

The implications of that simple number are not lost on him, even though he kind of wishes they were. She’s considered an adult now, a legal, consenting adult. While this doesn’t erase the age gap between them entirely, at least now his thoughts aren’t technically illegal. So that’s a start.

It also makes the dream that he just woke up from seem a smidge less inappropriate. Although he’s pretty sure that nothing in this world could ever make the things he had been doing to her with his mouth completely appropriate in any context. The image makes his stomach clench and brings a wave of heat through him. How the hell Oliver’s supposed to keep things platonic between them is beyond him.

A knock at the door has Oliver shifting from his horizontal position so that he’s seated with his back against the headboard. The action conveniently pools the dark green duvet in his lap, hiding the physical evidence of his dream from view.

"Hey Ollie, it's Thea. I'm giving you until the count of 10 and then I'm coming in. 1... 2..."

Oliver can't help but roll his eyes at his sister's antics.

"Thea, you can come in."

The door creaks as Thea slowly pushes it open, hand covering her eyes as she takes hesitant steps into the room.

"What are you doing?"

"Shielding my eyes and my innocence incase you and Felicity decided to celebrate early."

His sister is far too accepting of his, now marginally less, unsuitable feelings for her best friend, far too accepting and eerily supportive.

“Knock it off, Speedy. Just because you’re all on board with it doesn’t mean it suddenly becomes okay.”

Thea reaches behind her with both hands, grabbing the door handle and backing up until it’s tightly shut, before making her way over to his bed. The way she climbs on top of the duvet and then sits with legs crisscrossed in front of her, reminds him of all the early morning she came in as a little girl. She used to do it all the time; Christmas, birthdays, snow days to tell him school was cancelled, the times he came home after being kicked out of yet another expensive university. And every time, no matter how early or how hung-over he felt, Oliver would always give her his undivided attention.

Thea was the one girl in Oliver’s life that he genuinely listened to when he was younger, before the Army. She was his baby sister, of course he did. He cared about every aspect of her life and always wanted to hear about her day no matter how uneventful it may have been. The only difference now is that she’s wearing a blazer and dress pants instead of a tutu and a tiara and she’s traded in her sparkly red “Toto” shoes, she insisted on calling “The Wizard of Oz” the “Toto movie” after she first saw it at age five, for a pair of bright red heels.  

“I know. It’s just fun giving you a hard time about it.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t.”

“Oh come on, Ollie. She’s eighteen now, which means that you can’t hide behind the age thing anymore. Plus, we both know that’s not the real problem here.”

Oliver sighs in exasperation. He’s beginning to think this whole thing was easier when Thea didn’t know about how he feels.

“There are a lot of other factors to think about. They don’t magically go away because the law says eighteen is legal.”

“No, but it makes everyone else seem like judgmental assholes for saying that you can’t care about each other just because you’ve been alive longer than she has, if you ask me.”

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t.”

Thea rolls her eyes before sticking her tongue out at Oliver, causing him to let out an amused chuckle.

“Whatever, be a pain in the ass about it. But I’m warning you now; Felicity is an amazing and beautiful girl. She’s also extremely intelligent, not that anyone here could ever forget that. She isn’t going to sit around forever waiting for you to get your act together and decide that she’s worth the fight, even though it should be pretty obvious that she is. If you don’t make up your mind you might just lose your chance.”

Oliver is prevented from voicing his reply by a voice calling from the hallway.

“Thea! Have you seen my panda flats anywhere? I swear to God if you threw them out I will make you buy me a new pair!”

“Aaaand that’s my cue to exit.” Thea twists towards the hallway and yells, “Coming Birthday Girl!”

Pushing herself from her crisscrossed position, his sister slides easily off the smooth duvet cover and makes her way to the door. She pauses, turning to address Oliver in a quieter voice.

“I’m taking Felicity to lunch at that place with the awesome dim sum. It’s her favorite, next to Big Belly and that little Bistro with the awesome imported coffee by the park. You should think about coming with us. Hey! Don’t give me that look, I said think and no one would find it weird that the Queen kids and their best family friend are out for lunch together.”

“Seriously, Thea, where did you put them?”

“See ya later, Big Bro!”

And with that Oliver watches his sister duck out of the room so fast she blurs. There was a reason he gave her the nickname Speedy.

Oliver takes his time getting ready, his mind dwelling on what his sister said.

She was right; Felicity is beautiful and extremely intelligent. She shouldn’t have to wait around for him to get his ass in gear. In fact, that idea of her doing just that almost makes him feel a little ashamed. All this time he’s been so preoccupied with his own internal crisis over the situation that he hadn’t stopped to think about how Felicity was handling it. He had assumed at first that she was freaked out by his actions, and then he thought that putting space between them when she had expressed her interest was best for her.

But he’s not the only person directly affected by the situation. Felicity is as well and he had unknowingly been making all the decisions for the both of them. Granted he wasn’t sure how deep her feelings went and his thought process had always been about what was best for her. He still hadn’t given her much of a choice either way. The thought of putting her in a position where she is left to sit and wait, putting a part of her life on hold, is unsettling. Felicity is too vibrant and full of life to wait on the sidelines for someone else to call the shots.

Thea was right.

He really needs to get his shit together.

….

Oliver makes his way down the steps and into the kitchen, dressed in a grey suit that is probably way too expensive, briefcase dangling from one hand. The plan is to grab a thermos of coffee and then head out for Queen Consolidated, he’s be early but there’s certainly enough work for him to be doing during that time.

Rounding the corner, Moira comes into view, preparing herself a cup of coffee and plating a variety of, no doubt extremely fresh, fruits. She looks up at her son as he enters and smiles warmly at him.

“Good morning, Oliver.”

“Morning Mom.”

Oliver joins his mother on the side of the island and places a quick kiss on her forehead, squeezing her shoulder in greeting, before going to grab a thermos from one of the cabinets.

“Why don’t you get a mug and come join your mother out on the patio for breakfast?”

A quick glance at his Rolex informs Oliver that he has thirty to forty minutes before he absolutely has to leave. That’s more than enough time to sit with his mother, whom he has seen only briefly over the past two weeks between work and social functions and everything else.

“Sure, that would be nice.”

They load up their plates and prepare their coffee before stepping through the sliding glass door and out onto the expansive stone patio. After setting down their breakfast on the glass table, mother and son situate themselves comfortably on the same side, facing away from the manor. The vast expanse of the Queens’ backyard can be seen from where they sit. A pool lies off to the side with it’s own separate patio, the same pool in which Felicity almost drowned during Oliver’s Basic Training send off party.

The memory sends a chill through Oliver. He hadn’t been around the pool area when it had initially happened, otherwise occupied with Sara Lance’s tongue. But Oliver had heard Felicity’s screams and the second it registered in his brain he left Sara high and dry, sprinting towards the pool. He remembers a watery blur of pink and yellow before diving into the, probably fifteen percent alcohol-filled, pool after her. Felicity had clung to him for dear life as he pulled her out, soaking wet and shivering from the cool night air. He remembers being so filled with rage at the group of idiot college students who had thought throwing a twelve-year-old girl who couldn’t swim into a pool would be funny. The only thing that kept him from hitting one of them had been Felicity’s weight in his arms. That seems like a lifetime ago now and almost ironic given the present circumstances, her life in danger again and Oliver doing everything he possibly can to keep her safe.

“Oliver?”

He’s brought back from his, not particularly pleasant, walk down memory lance by Moira, who’s looking at him questioningly.

“I’m sorry, I missed that. What did you say?”

“I asked if you had seen Felicity this morning before her and Thea left.”

Oliver shakes his head no and takes a large swallow of his coffee, two sugars, no cream, and still slightly burning in temperature.

“Oh, well make sure you do and wish her a happy birthday. Eighteen, it’s incredible. She’s growing into such a beautiful young lady. Soon she’ll be graduating college and starting her professional career, getting married.”

College. Yet another thing Oliver hadn’t thought about. Felicity would be returning to MIT in the fall, on the complete opposite side of the country where seeing her everyday would be impossible. The thought causes a slight pang in his chest.

“Mom, you have a couple years before you have to worry about that.”

“I know. It’s just; you all grow up so fast. I mean look at you, five years in the Army, leadership position in the family company. You’re a whole different person from the one that left us five years ago and I wasn’t there to watch you grow like I had been for the first twenty-four, twenty-five years of your life. It’s a strange experience. You spend all these years dedicated to helping this person live and grow into who they are and then suddenly they don’t need you anymore.”

Oliver takes his mother’s hand in his and smiles lovingly at her, which she returns with a watery smile of her own.

“You will always be my mother and I will always love you. Just because I’m getting older and making my own way does not mean I don’t need you in my life. I just need you in different ways than I used to. The same thing goes for Thea and even Felicity. Okay?”

He leans forward to place a kiss on the crown of his mother’s head and pulls her into a hug.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

They sit that way for a beat, mother and son finding comfort in each other’s embrace. He had missed this. Before his deployment, Oliver had taken the support of his mother for granted. She was always there for him and Thea, trying to make right every situation they had wronged and comforting them in ways no one else could. His immature, young adolescent self had called it smothering but now he realizes just how much worse things would have been without her.

Moira and Oliver separate from each other and spend the next few minutes nibbling on breakfast; fresh fruits and Russian sandwiches called butterbrots that Raisa prepared on occasion.

“Actually mom, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you about.”

His mother holds a hand up to lightly cover her mouth as she finishes the bite she just took before looking at him expectantly.

“I’ve been thinking about getting my own place. Not too far from here but closer to the city. Maybe a penthouse on the outskirts?”

“Oliver, I hope you don’t feel unwelcome here. I know things with your father are still… at odds and quite frankly might always be. But you are always welcome at home.”

To be honest, he and Robert have never had a very close relationship to begin with. It’s not even on the list of things that Oliver is currently trying to work through.

“No, no that’s not it. I just think that it’s time I get my own place. I have a stable job and more than enough money for it. Also, I’m thirty years old, sharing a home with my parents isn’t exactly the most flattering living situation.”

“Well, alright. I guess you do have a point. I can talk to Jeanine. She mentioned she was showing this new apartment complex in the city, high-end security, very private.”

“Thanks, mom.”

A quick glance at his watch shows that Oliver’s time is up and that he needs to leave for Queen Consolidated if he doesn’t want to be late.

“I have to get going, do you want to ride into QC with me?”

“Oh I am about to leave for Verdant to oversee the preparations for Felicity’s birthday party tonight. Thank you for the offer, darling.”

Oliver gives his mother a smile before ducking down to kiss the top of her head in goodbye, grabbing his suitcase, and heading back through the kitchen towards the town car no doubt waiting for him at the front door.

….

By twelve o’clock Oliver will be happy if he never has to read another partnership proposal again. He had been going through Bertinelli’s drafted proposal and contract, looking for any weak spots or points of fault. So far he hasn’t found any that would be grounds for outright rejection and he’s been looking over it for almost three hours. The pounding in his head is evidence of that.

Luckily, Thea had texted Oliver, instructing him to meet her and Felicity in IT at noon if he wanted to grab lunch with them. He had accepted, deciding that lunch wouldn’t hurt and would serve as a much-needed break from the grueling paperwork he was sifting through. Sliding one of the drawers in his desk open, Oliver grabs a bottle of Ibuprofen and downs two of the blue gel pills before making his way towards the elevator and the IT department.

The second the doors slide open on the correct floor, Oliver hears Felicity’s tinkling laughter from down the hall. The sound instantly put him in a better mood and if his gait happens to speed up, well, that’s pure coincidence.

His lifted mood is short-lived, however, when Oliver rounds the corner and finds the cause of her laughter.

It’s his assistant/intern, whose name he learned is Barry, who seems to be the reason for Felicity’s laughter. The kid standing by Felicity’s chair, all awkward dangling limbs. He has this goofy smile on his face as he looks at Felicity, like a little puppy, while she laughs at something he must have said. Her hand rests gently on his scrawny arm and Oliver gets a sudden urge to separate it from his body.

“Psssst, what are we spying on?”

Oliver just about jumps out of his skin and ten feet into the air when Thea comes up behind him.

“Jesus!”

“Nope, just me. So, what are we eavesdropping on?”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping.”

“Course you weren’t. Now let me see.”

She leans around him to find what Oliver had previously been staring at. A surprised look crosses her face before she pulls back to smirk at her brother.

“Well would you look at that. Seems like you’re not the only one with a crush, Ollie.”

“Would you stop that?”

Thea raises her hands in a show of backing off after he snaps at her.

“Okay, okay. Geez. Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?”

“I didn’t have Cheerios. Now are we going to lunch or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s grab Felicity. If she can bear to part from her man piece, that is.”

His sister steps forward and into the Intern Corner before Oliver can respond, leaving him to follow suit. He tries not to outright glare at Barry’s head and instead focuses on Felicity. She looks beautiful, as always, in a light blue dress and the shoes she had been yelling about earlier. The little smiling pandas scream Felicity and it’s one of the most adorable things he’s ever seen.

“Hey Birthday Girl, you ready for dim sum and fresh air? This place reeks of cheap coffee and wasted paper.”

Both Felicity and Barry startle a little at the intrusion. She immediately draws her hand away from Barry’s arm and Oliver doesn’t miss the way her eyes flicker between him and the kid before settling on Thea.

“Yeah, yup, let me just shut down the computer and grab my purse.”

Felicity turns to do just that, leaving Oliver, Thea, and Barry standing in awkward silence. Thea looks expectantly at the kid, waiting for an introduction. Oliver is still lost on how he knows Felicity in the first place. Barry fidgets in place for a few seconds, deciding on what his best course of action is before stepping towards Thea with an outstretched hand.

“Hi, uh, I’m Barry. Barry Allen. I work for Mr. Queen as an intern here in Applied Sciences.”

Felicity whirls around to face them, knocking over a pile of papers in the process.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so rude I forgot to introduce you. Thea, this is Barry. Barry, Thea Queen, my best friend. Oh crap. Those papers were organized by date filed and complaint number.”

She drops to the floor, quickly gathering the papers together. Oliver is about to step forward and offer his assistance when Barry beats him to it, ducking to pile more of the papers on top of each other.

“Here, Felicity, let me help with that. I can come back when you’re finished with lunch and help reorganize them. If you want me to, that is.”

Has his intern always been this enthusiastically eager? Actually, yeah, now that Oliver thinks about it he kind of has been.

“Oh no, that’s okay you really don’t have to. I’m sure one of the other IT interns can help me out with this. You probably have a bunch to do in Applied Sciences with Defense Tech and everything.”

Barry passes the last of the papers he’s collected to Felicity and she adds them to a stack on the desk before grabbing her purse from beneath it. She faces Oliver and Thea, the first time the two of them have made real eye contact since he arrived here.

“Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Felicity begins to walk towards the Queen siblings when Thea speaks up.

“Wait, Barry, would you like to join us?”

Three heads snap around to stare at Oliver’s sister. Felicity is wide-eyed and looks almost nervous at the prospect. The kid, Barry, whatever, seems far too delighted by the idea. And Oliver, Oliver has an unexplainable desire to duct tape his sister’s mouth shut.

“That would be – “

“Unfortunately not possible today. Barry has a lot of work to get done in Applied Sciences. Don’t you, Barry?”

For a second he almost feels bad about shutting the kid down when Oliver sees his face fall, almost.

“Uh, yeah, Mr. Queen is right. We’ve got new drafts coming in and a couple contracts I need to file.”

Felicity speaks up then, turning to face her fellow intern and apparently friend.

"Oh... Okay. Well then, you should come by Verdant tonight. If you can."

"I would like that."

The two exchange a smile that leaves a sinking feeling in Oliver's stomach. Thea's words from earlier this morning come back to him.

She isn’t going to sit around forever waiting for you to get your act together.

Oliver is past the point of denying his feelings for Felicity. He knows what he feels and he knows there’s no use in fighting it anymore. That doesn’t necessarily mean he’s sure of admitting them to her, especially after all he’s done to keep her away. But seeing her with Barry, an age appropriate guy who is clearly interested in her, reminds Oliver that if he doesn’t make a move, he has to be okay with letting her go. And he’s not.

“Earth to Oliver. You ready to go?”

He’s pulled from his thoughts by Felicity’s questioning tone and her hand gently resting on the inside of his elbow. Warmth immediately blossoms from where she’s touching him, even with the material of his dress shirt between her hand and his skin. It’s the first time she’s directly addressed Oliver today and the sudden relaxation of his body makes him realize just how much he had been anticipating their interaction.

“Yeah, let’s go. Do you need me to carry anything?”

“No, it’s just my purse. I’m completely capable enough to carry that. But thank you for the offer.”

Her hand trails down his arm and slides to the pulse point at his wrist where her fingers idle for half a second before dropping away, sending Oliver’s heart into overdrive. What is she doing? As if he hadn’t suffered enough from their accidental contact and his not-so-logical actions around her as of late. Now she’s initiating touches and lingering in ways that are, for all intents and purposes, innocent but somehow more sensual than any contact he’s ever been on the receiving end of.

Oliver has the sudden urge to loosen his tie and maybe pop open the top button or two of his dress shirt. The AC on this floor must be busted or something. He’ll have to talk to maintenance about that.

“Alright, well we’re off then. It was great meeting you, Barry. Hopefully we’ll see you at the party tonight.”

Thea links her arm with Felicity’s free one as she smiles at the intern.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Have a nice lunch, Felicity.”

“Thanks. Bye, Barry!”

Felicity throws another smile at Barry before Thea tugs her towards the elevators, Oliver falling into step next to them.

“Well he was pretty cute.”

He could really use that earlier mention duct tape right about now.

“Yeah, Barry’s a nice guy and he’s really smart.”

“Sounds like the total package. What do you think, Ollie? He is your assistant, after all.”

Oliver glares at his sister over Felicity’s head before schooling his features into a pleasant smile when she turns to look at him.

“Uh huh, he’s a good kid.”

The emphasis on kid may have been a little unnecessary.

….

“What about those faux leather Alexander McQueen shorts and the adorable cap-sleeved lace crop top I got you, that you never wear, for tonight?”

“For me or for you?”

“For you, obviously. I’ve had my outfit picked out for weeks.”

They’ve been sitting at the table munching on dim sum for almost thirty minutes and all that Thea and Felicity have talked about are party details. Oliver can’t decide which is worse. This or going through the Bertinelli contract. But then Felicity will laugh at something Thea says or smile across the table at him and it’s not so bad.

“Thea, you might as well take the shorts. You’re the only one who ever wears them and probably ever will.”

“But the one time you tried them on they made your butt look so good. I could not deprive you of that and still call myself a good friend.”

Oliver almost chokes as he takes a sip of water and quickly fumbles for his napkin. Felicity reaches a hand over to soothingly rub his back as he coughs and it only serves to prolong his breathing problem for a few moments.

“Geez, Ollie, did you forget how to drink water?”

“I just –“ he pauses to let out a final cough “ – thought I saw something, outside.”

Both girls stare at him like he’s grown a second head, neither of them buying his explanation but not really knowing what to say in reply. Felicity’s hand still rests lightly against his upper back, moving in small, soothing circles.

“I’m fine.”

As he straightens out, Oliver feels her small hand fall away and instantly misses the contact. But it’s probably for the best.

“Ooookay. So, uhm, are you going to stop by Verdant tonight?”

Honestly, he had been debating it in his head, weighing the pros and cons, the maybes and the what ifs. But right now, looking at Felicity’s hopeful face, Oliver knows what his choice would have been in the end. His choice will always be Felicity and her happiness. In fact, it’s not really a choice at all.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be there. It starts at nine, right?”

Her face lights up like a million twinkling lights and Oliver feels a sense of accomplishment at being the reason why.

“Mhmm, party starts at nine, cake cutting is at ten. Tommy and Laurel will be there. Digg will be there, too. He helped organize the security for the event to make sure there are no… incidents. It’s going to be a lot of fun. You don’t even have to stay the whole time. Just as long or as short as you want.”

How she doesn’t run out of air when she babbles like that is a mystery to Oliver. She does pause at the end and take a breath so at least he knows that she’s breathing. But God help him, it only makes her that much more endearing. Actually, everything about her seems to be designed to draw him in, like a bee to honey.

“Felicity.”

He gently takes her hand in his.

“Mhmm?”

“I’m sure it will be great. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Okay. Good.”

For a moment they’re the only two in the room. Her hand in his is all he feels, her shining smile that reflects in her eyes is all he sees. She’s the only thing and everything.

But then there’s the sound of shattering glass as a waiter drops an empty cup to the floor and the people around applaud him. It breaks the bubble and brings Oliver back to the world around them. He gives her hand a light squeeze before letting go and turning back to his meal, trying his best to ignore Thea’s perceptive smirk and the light pink dusting across Felicity’s cheeks.

The three of them eat in silence, the low din of the adjacent restaurant patrons providing a comfortable background noise. It’s not until after dessert is ordered that conversation returns to topics heavier than appropriate lunchtime sweets and which dessert yields itself the best to birthday candles, which Thea of course has with her.

“So, have you heard from your mom at all today?”

Felicity pauses mid-reach for her glass of water at Thea’s inquiry.

“Uhm, she tried to call me while I was at work but I missed it.”

It’s a lie. Oliver can tell before the words even finish escaping her mouth. A glance at his sister reveals to him that she’s not buying what Felicity’s attempting to sell either.

“Lis, she’s your mother. I know you two were never really close or on the best of terms, but if she tried to call you – “

“I told you, I missed the call. And you’re right, we aren’t close at all. Actually, we’re the farthest you can be while still being related by blood. I get a small percentage of the trust she set up for me once a month and that’s it. I guess now it won’t be so regulated since I’m eighteen but it’s not like there’s much to regulate anymore, what with the majority of her accounts being frozen and all. I’m surprised they’re giving me any of it.”

The dessert comes then, a slice of rich chocolate cake for Felicity and some fruity pastry for Thea. Oliver stuck with plain coffee. Felicity immediately grabs her fork and stabs at the cake as if it’s done her a serious injustice.

“So I guess we’re not doing candles then… But seriously Felicity, she’s been trying to reach out to you since the arrest. Don’t you think she might have something important to say? Maybe she’s realized her wrongs and is trying to make amends.”

“She knew what she was doing. Karen is a lot of things but an idiot is not one of them. So maybe she should have thought about how this would all affect me before she decided that large scale embezzlement was a good career choice.”

Oliver stays quiet throughout the exchange. He knows about the trial and he knows that Felicity and Karen are not and never were close. That’s where his knowledge on the subject ends. It’s not his place to get involved and advise Felicity when she hasn’t asked him to. But it doesn’t stop him from wishing that he could say or do something to help her and the situation.

“I just think that – “

“I’m done talking about this, okay Thea?”

He’s never seen Felicity snap at someone or heard her so much as raise her voice before. And even though this could be considered tame, Oliver can see the turmoil and the storm beneath the surface. Coming from Felicity it’s more than a little bit intimidating.

“Whatever you wish. It is your birthday after all. Sorry to put a damper on it.”

Felicity sighs before looking up at her best friend and giving her a soft smile, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“It’s okay. I know you’re just trying to help and I appreciate that. But Karen and I will never have a good relationship and I’ve come to accept that. Let’s just move on from this conversation and not dwell on it, okay?”

“… Okay. Now, can I have a bite of that cake? It looks divine.”

The rest of lunch goes off without a hitch. They finish dessert, Oliver covers the bill, and all topics family related are avoided. Felicity, for her part, does a good job of continuing on as if the conversation about Karen never happened. She jokes with Thea and talks to Oliver about the Defense Tech plans and Applied Sciences. She smiles and laughs and goofs around with Thea on the walk back to QC, at one point they try synchronizing their steps but Felicity is in flats and Thea has heels on so it doesn’t keep for very long. There’s only one sign of distress that stands out to Oliver.

Felicity won’t stop fidgeting with the ring on her right hand.

….

It’s a good thing his earlier headache has dissipated because the second Oliver steps foot in Verdant the bass starts sending vibrations through his body. It’s a quarter ‘til ten and the place is already flooded with people, bodies grinding and writhing to the pulsing beat of the music, arms outstretched in either exhilaration or an attempt not to spill drinks. The crowd is a mix of all ages, but there’s a significant amount of people whom Oliver suspects to be underage or at least younger then twenty-one. Luckily, security is extra tight tonight and that majority of them are wearing neon wristbands, signaling their age.

Scanning the crowd for Felicity and Thea is futile. There’s no way he’ll be able to find them in the masses, even if he seems to be acutely aware of Felicity whenever she’s in close proximity to him. Instead, Oliver makes his way towards the bar, knowing already that he’s going to need a drink. Or three. Maybe a couple shots.

“Hey Ollie!”

As he approaches the bar, Oliver spots a familiar, smiling blonde waving at him from behind it.

“Sara. I didn’t know you worked here.”

It’s nice to find a familiar face in the crowd of inebriated thrill seekers and he quickly makes himself comfortable leaning against the bar.

“It’s a new gig, just on the weekends. Everything is really great at The League, my training facility, but I missed bartending a little.  So when Tommy asked me to work as back up on his busier nights I accepted and here we are. What can I get you?”

“Hmmm… how’s the house draft?”

“Definitely worth trying. Let me grab you one. Half pint or full?”

Just then there’s a commotion on stage and Oliver turns to find a cake being brought on, Thea and Felicity in tow. The sight of the blonde, beaming and laughing with his sister, brings a smile of his own to Oliver’s face. Until he sees what she’s wearing, that is.

There’s no doubt in his mind that Thea had a hand in Felicity’s outfit choice for the evening. She’s wearing a sequin cardigan that just barely comes together at the ends in an attempt to hide the top she’s wearing underneath, one that clearly does not meet the waistband of her skintight jeans. Hot pink heels make her legs seem a mile long, even from Oliver’s place at the bar and her hair spills freely over her shoulders in large, loose curls.

The look on his face is probably comical to anyone paying him any attention, jaw dropped and eyes slightly bulging out of his head. Oliver imagines he looks something like a cartoon.

“Ollie, hello, what size beer do you want?”

Shaking his head and turning back around Oliver tries to move his thoughts away from Felicity and her outfit, although to be fair it’s less revealing than Thea’s, much to his dismay. He’s not even sure how his sister got out of the house dressed like that.

“Sorry. Give me a full.”

“Coming right up!”

Sara ducks down to grab a pint glass and fills it from the tap before sliding it in front of him.

“Thanks.”

“It’s on the house. Now if you don’t need anything else I’m gonna slide on down and get my flirt on with the hot girl on the other side of the bar. I’ve never been more attracted to a fedora in my life. See ya, Ollie.”

He chuckles at Sara as she subtly adjusts her top and saunters down to the side of the bar to chat up a woman with dark hair and slightly exotic features.

“Oliver! Oliver, hey!”

Turning around on the barstool he’s now occupied, Oliver finds Laurel and Tommy making their way towards him, hand in hand. They look every bit the power couple they are, all clean cut and charisma. Oliver stands to greet them, pulling Laurel into a quick hug and patting Tommy on the back.

“Laurel, you look beautiful, as always.”

“And you are being quite the charmer this evening. Thank you. Did you talk to Sara? I was on my way over to say hi but it looks like she’s otherwise occupied at the moment.”

“Yeah, I did. But I’m afraid we may have lost her for the night.”

Laurel leans around Oliver to peek at her sister, loving smile on her face, before pulling back.

“Aw, let the little sis have some fun, Laurel. Plus, this just means I have more of you to myself for the evening.”

Tommy wraps his arm around Laurel’s waist and pulls her into his side, planting a loud kiss to her cheek and earning him a heartfelt laugh and a soft shove on the chest before she falls further into him. They really are a great couple.

“So have you seen Felicity yet?”

Has he seen her? Ha, yeah he definitely has.

“I just got here a few minutes ago but I saw her get on stage with Thea.”

“Doesn’t she look beautiful? And so grown up. God, I can’t believe she’s eighteen!”

Just then the music cuts off and there’s a short-lived pitch from the speakers as a microphone gets turned on. Thea stands on stage, mic in one hand and other arm wrapped around Felicity’s shoulders. A plastic tiara with something pink and fluffy at its base is now perched on top of Felicity’s head.

“Hellllooo everyone!”

The crowd yells and cheers in reply to his sister’s greeting and she signals with her hand to quite down after a few moments.

“Tonight is a very special night here at Verdant. Does anyone know why? What could we possibly be celebrating?”

Felicity laughs in delight on stage as shouts of ‘birthday’ and ‘Felicity’ and ‘eighteen’ ring through the audience along with one very enthusiastic exclamation of ‘she’s legal! Fuck yeah!’

“That’s right! It’s Felicity Smoak’s 18^th birthday ladies and gentlemen! Now, would you all kindly join me in serenading our gorgeous Birthday Girl? On the count of three, ready? One… two… three! Happy Birthday to you…”

Oliver joins the crowd in the age-old song, laughing occasionally at Laurel’s attempt to stay in tune and the slightly out-of-sync words being sung, or rather shouted, throughout the room.

Felicity’s bubbling laughter echoes through the speakers as Thea pulls her close. Oliver thinks he’ll never get enough of hearing that sound. It’s so genuine and happy and all he wants is to hear it everyday for the rest of his life. Watching her on stage right now, spotlight shining on the swaying form of her and his sister and playing through the golden strands of her hair, it’s easy to forget everything else in the world. It’s easy to forget his parents, Bertinelli, the press, the age difference, easy to forget everything but Felicity and how perfectly she embodies her given name in this exact moment.

But then people are shouting and lights are dimmed and music is restarted as the song ends and the party comes back in full swing.

“Oh that was so cute! I hope the photographers got good pictures of that!”

“Laurel, you and Moira hired five of them. I’m sure somebody did. Now, let’s get some champagne to celebrate, shall we? Oliver, you want any or are you good with your beer?”

Oliver looks down to see his drink is only halfway empty before shaking his head.

“No, thanks, I’m good. You guys go grab some. I’ll be right here.”

He smiles at his two best friends as they nod and Tommy leads them back around to the opposite side of the circular bar and out of sight.

Turning back to the crowd Oliver tries his best to spot Felicity. Now that he knows what she’s wearing it shouldn’t be as difficult. And it’s not. He finds her within two minutes of beginning his search. Unfortunately he wishes he hadn’t.

She’s dancing with Barry. It’s not the close contact grinding that the people around them are partaking in. Instead Felicity moves with the beat, hands above her head and twirling on occasion. Barry does some awkward movements next to her that cause Felicity to laugh before she grabs him in an endearing hug. It’s almost worse than the lewd grinding.

The dancing goes on for another five minutes, it feels like an eternity, before the two make their way to the bar. Oliver waits approximately one minute and thirty seconds, just long enough for them to be served two glasses of water, before he wanders over.

“Hey, Felicity.”

“Oliver! You’re here!”

Suddenly his arms are full of her warmth and Oliver doesn’t remember why he was so agitated in the first place. He returns the hug in kind, large arms easily locking around her tiny waist, and inhales, letting the feel and smell of her surround him and take over his senses. It brings him back to the moment when this all began, right in this spot on the day of his return. When she wrapped him tightly in her arms and he realized that she wasn’t the little girl he had pictured her as anymore. It was a little over a month ago but it seems like it’s been ages since.

Slowly Oliver leans back, breaking the hug but not every point of contact as one of his hands slides down to gently grab hers.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

Felicity looks at him in confusion, probably at the somber tone in his voice, before replying.

“Yeah, sure. Let me just say goodbye to Barry.”

She turns away, hand lingering for a beat before fully leaving his, and addresses the kid.

“Hey, I had a really great time dancing with you but Oliver needs to talk to me about something really quick. I hope you don’t mind. I’m not trying to ditch you, I swear. You really are a great dancing partner.”

Barry laughs a little at that before shaking his head.

“You and I both know that’s not true but I appreciate the sentiment. Go ahead. I think I see Caitlin and Cisco anyway. Happy Birthday, Felicity.”

Oliver watches as the kid leans over and gives Felicity a brief hug, before walking past him.

“Mr. Queen, enjoy your evening.”

“You too, Barry.”

The kid – Barry isn’t all that bad. Now Oliver feels a little bit like a jerk for sticking him with all that extra paperwork when he got back from lunch.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

“Do you mind if we go somewhere quieter? It’s kind of hard to hear in this place.”

She smiles softly up at him.

“Sure, lead the way.”

They fall in step next to each other as Oliver guides them towards and up the stairs, hand resting on the small of Felicity’s back. He can feel the heat from her skin through the flimsy material of her cardigan. It causes his hand to flex for a minute before relaxing once again. Neither of them says a word as they come to the second level and Oliver opens the door to the large storage room, gently leading Felicity inside before closing the door behind them.

It’s much quieter in here, even though the base still thrums through his body. Or is that just his heart rate picking up pace?

“What’s going on, Oliver? Is everything okay?”

Now that they’re here, he’s realizing that he’s really not sure what he’s doing. Like just about everything else in his life that has to do with Felicity, Oliver hadn’t thought any of this through. One second she was stunningly euphoric on stage, the next she was in the arms of Barry Allen. Then he was crossing over to her at the bar in the spot where it all started, asking her to talk, about what he wasn’t sure.

“Oliver, did Digg talk to you? Is something wrong? Am I in danger?”

Of course she would assume that. Oliver hadn’t even considered what this would look like to her and he has to act quickly to quell the panic creeping into her voice.

“No, no nothing is wrong.”

“Oh, okay. Then what did you want to talk about?”

He starts pacing in the limited space of the storage room between the desk by the two-way mirror and the racks of liquor in varying colors and bottles. He’s at a complete and utter loss as of what to say to her.

“Are you sure nothing’s wrong? You’re kind of worrying me with the pacing.”

Felicity steps up to him, placing a gentle hand at the crease on the inside of his elbow. She looks up at him with bright blue eyes full of concern, beseeching him to tell her what’s going on so that she can help him. It’s the moment that tips the scales and sends him stumbling towards the rabbit hole.

“I care about you.”

She doesn’t get it. He can see it in her bemused look before she even responds.

“I care about you too, Oliver.”

His hands lift of their own accord and gently encircle the place just above her elbows.

“I mean I really care about you, Felicity.”

Her head tilts to the side, puzzled smile still in place and eyebrows pulled together slightly.

“Oh… kay? I really care about you too. We’re practically family.”

“No, that’s not it. You’re not… that’s not what I meant.”

He pulls away then and walks across to the opposite side of the storage room, back turned to her, forefinger and thumb rubbing at his temple. What is he doing?

“Oliver, you’re not making any sense. I can’t read your mind, even though it would be a lot easier sometimes if I could. Tell me what’s going on and we can figure this out together.”

He turns to face Felicity, taking all of her in. She’s standing with hands clasped in front of her, idly toying with the ever-present ring on her finger. Her hair has been pulled over to one side, exposing where her neck and shoulder meet. The tattoo he once caressed on a whim peeks out over the edge of the waistband of her jeans. Her eyes shine with concern and compassion and a sincerity that he’s never seen echoed in any other’s.

She’s so damn beautiful.

“Felicity, I…”

He can’t do this. He has to do this. He doesn’t even know what this is.

“Oliver?”

Fuck it.

He’s crossing the room in a matter of seconds; his hands gently taking hold of her face and his mouth pressing tenderly to hers.

He’ll never be the same again. No matter what happens next, if she continues the kiss or if she shoves him away in disgust, Oliver will never be the same. This will never be the same. He’s reached the edged of the rabbit hole and now he’s tumbling down with no end in sight.

But Oliver gives her this decision, this choice. Where they go from here is completely in Felicity’s hands and it’s terrifying. But it’s also exhilarating because he’s been fighting this for weeks, months, and he’s finally giving in. He’s finally letting go.

But then she’s not responding and his heart begins to sink. He pulls back to look at her.

“Felicity?”

Her eyes are open wide in what he assumes is shock. But she hasn’t run away or started screaming so that’s good.

“Felicity, talk to me, please.”

“Do you kiss all your sisters like that? Because there’s a word for that and it rhymes with smincest.”

A smile starts to make its way across her face and the relief that floods through Oliver can’t be contained as he huffs out a laugh.

“If you still think I see you as a sister then you’d be very wrong.”

“I think I need some more convincing on the subject.”

She doesn’t have to tell him twice.

Oliver crashes his lips back to Felicity’s and this time there’s not hesitation, no waiting on either end. Their mouths slant against each other instantly, tongues peeking out shyly at first before taking bolder strokes against one another. Each one of them takes their turn exploring the other’s mouth, learning what they taste like for the first time.

Felicity’s hands come up to card through Oliver’s cropped hair and he groans into her mouth when she tugs at the strands on the back of his neck. More, he needs more but it’s hard to do when she’s so much shorter than he is. So without a second thought Oliver’s hands slide down from where they somehow ended up at her waist, over the curve of her ass, pausing to kneed the flesh there for a second and drawing a moan from her mouth, before tugging at the backs of her thighs.

Felicity takes the hint and hops up to wrap her legs around Oliver’s waist, pulling her mouth from his for a second and giving him perfect access to her neck. He quickly rains soft kisses up and down the delicate, pale column before sucking over her pulse point, causing her to cry out.

“Oliver!”

God, he’s dreamt of her gasping his name like that so many times, both in his sleeping and waking hours. It sounds so much better than he ever imagined it would and sends a bolt of heat shooting straight through him. Her hands cling to the back of Oliver’s head, holding his mouth against her neck as she pants above him. He nips at the spot that he’s been occupied with for the past minute, now a satisfying purple, the surrounding area red from his stubble rubbing against her skin.

That’s his mark on her skin, his brand on her body. The sight causes him to groan.

Felicity pulls his mouth back to hers, pressing urgent, openmouthed kisses against it as her hands slide down his neck and around his shoulders to unbutton the top one, two buttons of his dress shirt. Oliver takes this as permission and he moves her hands away, sliding his own to push the loose fitting cardigan over her shoulders and down her arms. It catches at her elbows and he fumbles with the singular button holding it together. Once it’s released Felicity pulls the garment off completely before returning her hands to his shoulder, finding purchase as she rocks her hips against his own. Oliver’s knees buckle beneath him and his breath catches as he mumbles against her mouth.

“Shit, Felicity.”

He stumbles slightly, bumping into one of the racks and knocking a bottle to the floor where it shatters.

The noise pulls Oliver and Felicity apart, as they survey the mess they made. Glass and amber liquid cover the floor. Her sequin sweater lays just to the right of the mess, crumbled and haphazardly thrown in their urgency. The tiara she donned earlier also lies forgotten on the floor.

But none of that matters because there’s a buzzing in Oliver’s ears that pulses with his racing heart. Every nerve ending in his body feels like a livewire.

“Maybe we should – “ Felicity pauses, still trying to catch her breath through kiss-swollen lips and Oliver can’t help but be a little proud of the affect he has on her. “ – Maybe we shouldn’t do this here.”

Admittedly she’s right. But it doesn’t stop Oliver from leaning back in and pressing his mouth to hers. The kiss is gentle, sweeter than the urgent, messy ones they shared less than a minute ago. He captures her bottom lip between his and sucks at it, nipping gently before lightly pressing his mouth fully back to hers.

They spend a few more minutes like that. Oliver’s arms support her weight, one banded around her waist, the other wrapped beneath the backs of her thighs still wrapped tightly around him. Felicity cups the back of his neck in both of her hands, thumbs gently running back and forth over the space behind his ears. Their kisses eventually reduce to small pecks until they part completely, foreheads resting gently against one another and eyes still closed, basking in the blissful stupor they’re both in.

“Happy Birthday, Felicity.”

Chapter Text

Felicity's outfit: brunch

.... 

There’s a warm presence by his side. It’s soft and inviting and smells like lavender mixed with a hint of something smoky. Oliver’s sleep addled brain doesn’t bother trying to put two and two together. All it cares about is getting closer and basking in the comforting figure nestled against him.

A few minutes pass as Oliver drifts in the space between the sleeping and the awake. He drifts and he soaks in every bit of the warmth that he can. It fills him, sends his body buzzing in the most satisfying way. The warmth sighs and tucks itself impossibly closer to him and that’s when he remembers.

The warmth is Felicity. She’s here, in Oliver’s bed, and he’s not worried that she’s going to runaway screaming, not scared that he’s crossing a line because he already did last night. Oliver crossed the line and he’s so glad that he did because this is the happiest he’s been in years.

Memories from the previous night swirl behind his closed eyelids. Felicity beaming and laughing on stage. Felicity dancing with Barry. Felicity and her kiss-swollen lips and disheveled hair, panting with desire. Felicity’s hand in his as they snuck out the side entrance of Verdant. Felicity falling asleep in his arms after another round of tasting and teasing each other. Felicity, Felicity, Felicity.

Oliver is helpless to the smile that spreads across his face as his eyes slide open, still not believing that this is real, that she is here in his arms like he’s dreamt of since his return. But as his vision adjusts to the dim light streaming in from behind the curtains, he’s met with the vision of Felicity tucked securely into his side, hair piled on top of her head in a haphazard bun and body swimming in one of his oversized training shirts. It’s quickly becoming clear to Oliver that he loves every single one of Felicity’s looks. Work, parties, training, formal, casual; every time he sees her she’s just as beautiful as the time before, if not more so and right now is no exception. In fact, if he had to choose a favorite, it would be this one where she’s wearing his clothing and nothing else.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

Felicity doesn’t open her eyes as she mumbles the words against his chest but a small smile graces her lips. Oliver momentarily tightens his hold around Felicity’s waist, squeezing her side gently, before reaching up to brush loose strands of her golden hair away from her face. He tucks them behind her ear; thumb smoothly gliding along the shell of it. A shiver runs through her at the action, much to Oliver’s delight.

“Don’t girls find it sweet and romantic now?”

Her eyes flutter open and his breathe catches at the happiness he finds in them, mirroring his own.

“Maybe some do, but if you’re not gonna do anything about it then it’s just creepy.”

Oliver shifts their position so that he’s hovering over her, one leg pressed between hers and elbows braced by her shoulders so as not to crush her with his weight. They’re close, noses brushing lightly against one another, his body lying on top of hers. Felicity quickly reaches up to lace her hands behind his neck and begins rubbing her thumbs in a circular motion at the base.

“Guess I should do something about it then, shouldn’t I?”

“That would be the preferred course of action here.”

At first, his lips don’t meet hers. They take their time, traveling over the planes of her cheeks, the small indents at her temples, the tip of her round button nose, her eyelids as they flutter shut. Last night their kisses had been fast and full of urgency, a need to be as close as they could be without being close. Now there’s no rush. It’s just Oliver and Felicity in his bed and the outside world has ceased to exist.

When his lips finally do meet hers, it’s sweet. The kiss is slow and deep as he momentarily captures her full bottom lip between his before slowly dragging away and pressing his mouth fully back to hers. Felicity hums against him when his tongue traces the seam of her lips, seeking entrance that she happily grants him. He alternates between stroking his tongue against her own and sipping at her mouth, still learning her taste. Shifting his weight to one elbow, Oliver reaches up to cup her cheek and angles her head to deepen the kiss as they get lost in one another.

Things begin to heat up as Felicity runs her fingers through Oliver’s hair and tugs him impossibly closer. The hand that was holding her face drops to the pillow beside her head as Oliver catches himself from falling on top of her and crushing her with his full body weight. Felicity’s leg runs up the back of his until she wraps it around his hip to bring their lower bodies closer. A small sigh of satisfaction escapes her mouth where it’s currently pressed against his before she begins trailing kisses over his jawline and down his neck. A jolt of electricity surges through him when Felicity gently bites down on an area she learned last night to be particularly sensitive, causing a low groan to leave him.

“Felicity… ”                                                    

“Mhmm…”

Oliver is at a loss for any other words as she shifts her hips against his, pressing into him with just the right amount of pressure to be felt, but not nearly enough to bring him any kind of relief. Grasping at her ribcage, he drags Felicity’s body up against his own and rolls them so that she’s on top, legs bracketing his waist. Having been separated in the maneuver, Felicity leans down to return her lips to Oliver’s neck but he catches her before she’s able to, capturing her mouth with his. Of their own accord, his hands slip down her sides to take hold of her small waist and guide her movements as she shifts against him. This time it pulls a groan from both of them followed by the most attractive whimpering noise from Felicity that Oliver has ever heard.

A battle flares up inside of him as Oliver’s brain catches up with his actions. Although they spent the previous night together in his bed, he and Felicity hadn’t gone past making out when they’d returned from the party. He didn’t want to push her or approach any boundaries too fast. The only definite fact he knows about Felicity’s sexual activity is that she’s a virgin. Beyond that Oliver has no clue what she has or hasn’t done and he doesn’t want to pressure her into anything she’s not ready for.

From the way that she’s moving on top of him now and the small mewling noises escaping her throat, he’s pretty sure she’s enjoying this. But they should talk before things go further with them. Whatever they are. Another thing they need to talk about.

Reluctantly, Oliver separates from Felicity, who follows after him at the sudden break of contact as if trying to catch him in one more kiss but failing to do so.

“Felicity, we should… “

Oh God. She looks like something from his fantasies perched on top of him in his shirt that’s slipping off one of her bare shoulders. Random strands of hair have fallen out of her, now extremely loose, topknot and her cheeks are completely flushed. He’s momentarily mesmerized by the rise and fall of her chest in sync with her rapid intake of breath.

Felicity must take his silence as a sign to continue because she leans back down to reacquaint her lips with his. It’s slightly embarrassing to say that Oliver doesn’t put up much resistance, or any at all really. His hands fist in the material of the sheets underneath him, searching for any semblance of control. However, his efforts are quickly thwarted when hers slide beneath the hem of his shirt, nails lightly dragging over the hardened muscle between his hipbones. His hips jerk up into her at the same moment that his hands fly to her waist to grind her down against him, dragging her heat against his hardened length.

“Ah! Oliver.”

Fuck. This needs to stop before they get carried away, further than they already are. But Oliver’s already unsteady willpower begins to crumble when she let’s out his name at a volume louder than any other exclamation beforehand. Logically he should be urging her to stay quiet, but this situation lends little room to rational thought.

A voice reaches Oliver on the very, very edge of his awareness, a female voice that definitely does not belong to the woman currently on top of him. It takes him longer than it should to identify whom the voice belongs to and when he does, panic sets in because it’s getting closer to his door.

“Shit! Felicity… Felicity, Thea is coming!”

“What? Oh fuck!”

In any other situation Oliver would probably laugh at how strange the curse sounds coming from her mouth. But any other situation is not this situation and right now he needs to hide Felicity ASAP. She’s scrambling off his lap as the voice pauses in front of his door.

“Ollie? It’s Thea. Can I come in?”

Felicity looks like a deer caught in headlights as he catches her gaze, sure that his expression isn’t far from mirroring hers.

“Ollie? Are you awake?”

Answer her! Felicity mouths the words and lightly hits him on the chest.

“Uh yeah, yeah I’m up!”

The handle on the door turns as Felicity dives beneath the dark green covers beside Oliver, pressing up against his side so that any move she makes won’t draw attention. She just barely gets herself situated by the time his sister enters the room.

“Did you just wake up? You’re usually out of bed by now.”

The glowing red numbers on the alarm clock atop his bedside table read a quarter ‘til ten. She’s right, he’s usually up by now and gotten his morning work out in. But for the first time in a long time there were no nightmares keeping him awake, no haunting images of ghosts he used to know screaming at him for help that he could not give. It was the most peaceful sleep he had gotten in a long while.

“I, uh, had a long night.”

That earns him a pinch on his side from Felicity and a questioning look from Thea.

“Right. So, have you seen Felicity?”

Oh shit. She knows. He’s not sure how but she knows. Beneath the covers Felicity’s nails dig into his tensed thigh.

“No. Haven’t seen her. Weren’t you with her at the party?”

“I was, but then she went off with Barry after the cake cutting. I caught up with him but he said you two went off to… talk.”

“Yeah, I had a question about my laptop.”

Thea arches an eyebrow at that, not taking the bait in the least.

“Really? What happened to it?”

“I spilled a latte on it.”

The excuse sounds weak, even to his ears. Felicity’s forehead drops against Oliver’s hip in silent defeat and her breath against his side sends a shiver running through him. He tries to smooth it over with a smile at his sister.

“Okay. Well, if you see her, tell her she has some explaining to do. Dipping out on her own birthday party like that. Rude!”

“I’ll be sure to let her know. If I see her.”

His sister glances around the room, eyes narrowing on the closet for a second before she seems to think better of it and shifts her gaze back to Oliver.

“Thanks. Also, Raisa is making hangover brunch so be ready in an hour.”

Much to his relief, Thea leaves the room shortly after that. He reaches a hand down to pat the duvet covered mass that is Felicity curled up next to him to signal that the coast is clear. She wiggles and pushes her self up towards the pillows at the head of the bed, tossing the cover down and away from her upper body with a huff.

“A latte? Seriously? She probably saw through that like it was glass, Oliver.”

She’s trying to be angry but all it does is make him want to kiss her. Although with the crossed arms and the unimpressed glare he doesn’t think that would be wise.

“I’m not very good with making up cover stories at the drop of a hat.”

“Really? You don’t say.”

He can’t help it. Instead of responding, Oliver leans forward to press his lips against the tip of Felicity’s nose before lightly pecking her mouth. He smiles at the way her expression lightens under his ministrations. It looks like he might have just found his secret weapon.

“Next time, I’ll hide and you can come up with the cover story.”

“That’s a little presumptuous there, Mr. Queen.”

It’s meant to be a joking comment but it gives Oliver pause, causing a swooping sensation low within his stomach. He doesn’t know what Felicity wants from this. They haven’t talked about any of it, too caught up in the whirlwind of being together. For all he knows it was just a ‘caught in the moment’ thing for her.

He wants to argue that isn’t the case, that there’s no way the pull he feels is one sided. What he and Felicity have can’t be given a specific label but it’s not a fling, at least it doesn’t feel that way. However, the fact still remains that they haven’t talked about it and therefore he can’t be sure what is going through her mind.

A hand on his cheek pulls Oliver from his reverie.

“Hey, where’d you go? I was only kidding. Of course there’s going to be a next time, and a next time after that, and a next time after that. If you want there to be, that is. I’m not trying to force you into anything. I know you have a lot going on with QC and your family and… other things. This isn’t… I don’t want you to feel like I’m expecting anything out of this. It can mean as much or as little as you want it to. I – “

“Felicity.”

Her rambling cuts off and she blushes, pulling her hand away from his face and into her lap, tangling it nervously with the other. She looks down as she fiddles with the ring around her finger.

“Felicity, please look at me.”

She’s hesitant and he copies her action from earlier, taking her cheek in the palm of his hand. When she automatically leans into the contact it sends a steady flood of warmth through him.

“This isn’t nothing. It means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me, okay? Last night, when I said I care about you, I wasn’t lying. I care about you more than I probably should and I would be an idiot if I let this go on while you were under the impression that I didn’t. Listen to me, I want this.”

By the time his last words escape, a brilliant smile has spread across Felicity’s face.

“Good. It would have really sucked if this didn’t mean as much to you as it did to me.”

An airy laugh escapes Oliver before he leans in to press his forehead against Felicity’s, her breath fanning across his face.

“This isn’t going to be easy. People won’t… they’re not all going to be accepting of this.”

“I know. I’ve talked to Thea about it. She had a lot to say on the subject.”

So that’s how his sister knew. The little meddling match maker.

“That makes two of us. Thea has been on my ass about it nonstop this past week.”

“A cupid in stilettos…” She pauses to take a breath before continuing. “We’re going to have to keep this a secret, aren’t we?”

He hates it, but they do. There’s nothing more that Oliver wants than to be able to be with Felicity properly. He wants to take her on dates and hold her hand and at some point probably post a picture that will make people disgusted by how sweet they are together on one of the various social media platforms being used these days. He wants to be her date and she his at ridiculous galas for the idle rich and be the one she relies on when everything else is failing. He wants the world to know that she is his and he is hers and that they’re happy together. But they can’t, not right now.

“Yes. Believe me, I don’t want to. I’m not ashamed of this but it’s something we’re going to have to be careful about for the time being.”

“I wish it wasn’t. But I get it and I’m okay with it. Plus, how can I not be when I get to do this?”

Felicity tilts her chin up and presses a tender kiss to Oliver’s lips, just enough pressure to be felt but to also leave him wanting more.

“And this.”

Her lips brush against his jaw before pressing firmly at the sensitive skin beneath it.

“And this.”

She nips at his ear after whispering the words against it, a jolt shooting through him as her hands disappear beneath the hem of his t-shirt and begin to slowly slide the soft cotton material up his body. Her mouth reattaches itself to the underside of his jaw.

Oliver can feel his train of thought turning into nothing and the control he was kind of, sort of maintaining crumbling away. One of his hands shoots down to encircle Felicity’s wrist and pause her movements, causing her to pull back and look at him questioningly.

“It’s very hard to control myself with you doing that.”

There’s a spark in her eyes, one of mischief and desire that he’s never seen before. It both worries him and turns him on.

“So don’t.”

Oliver’s mouth is occupied with Felicity’s before he can respond. He doesn’t stop the kiss from happening, but he doesn’t take it any further, both hands now lightly holding her wrists to prevent her from continuing her earlier actions. Felicity’s growing frustration is obvious as she huffs against his mouth and pulls away.

“You’re no fun. Is that something they teach you in the Army? How to remain unaffected by all sexual advances despite the opposite party being pants-less and very willing? Not that I’m desperate or anything. Just, you know, it’s nice and I wouldn’t mind continuing.”

She’s blushing by the end of it, squirming a little until Oliver relinquishes his hold.

“We have to get ready for brunch. Thea’s looking for you and I’m sure Digg is too.”

“Fine.”

Felicity slides out from beneath the covers and Oliver instantly wants to pull her back to him. Her legs are bare, his shirt just reaching the area above her knees, and he vividly remembers what it felt like to have them tangled with his, skin against skin.

“Oh! I almost forgot, I texted Digg last night on the ride back here. If he says anything about you taking me home just go with it. I wasn’t feeling well and you offered to bring me back early, got it?”

The words are thrown over her shoulder as Felicity becomes occupied with shimmying back into her jeans from the night before. It’s an amusing sight, watching her hop around his bedroom floor to get them situated. It seems like a lot of effort and not entirely comfortable but then what would he know? Skinny jeans were never an item in Oliver’s wardrobe, even pre-Army and there were some pretty horrible articles of clothing back then. A pair of Lycra cheetah-print pants he had worn to a ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ party comes to mind. The thought alone makes him cringe in embarrassment. But they had gotten him laid so…

“You text Diggle?”

“Yeah, we’re buds now. He’s actually really funny. Plus, I wasn’t going to let some random man follow me around without getting to know him. Come on Oliver. That’s just weird.”

The bed dips as Felicity places a knee on it, leaning forward on both arms to softly kiss his mouth.

“I’ll see you at brunch.”

One more passing of their lips against one another’s and Felicity heads for the door. Just as she’s about to leave Oliver calls out.

“Hey, just so you know, I’m not.”

Her eyebrows pull together and lips purse in confusion.

“You’re not what?”

“Unaffected by your advances.”

Realization washes over her in the form of a light pink blush.

“Oh… well, that’s good to know.”

….

When Oliver comes down for brunch, he finds Tommy talking with his mother and father in the sitting room. Thea and Felicity are nowhere to be seen and he assumes Digg is with them.

“Tommy, what are you doing here?”

They clasp hands and exchange a brief pat on the back before Oliver quickly turns to nod to his parents and briefly trade pleasantries.

“Thought I’d stop by and see if everyone was still alive. Are my two favorite ladies, well besides you Moira, all in one piece? No one could find Felicity after like ten thirty last night. Laurel and I wanted to give her our present in person.”

“Uh yeah, she’s fine. I actually brought her home early. She wasn’t feeling very well.”

His mother looks concerned at that.

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me Felicity was sick? I would have checked on her last night when your father and I got home.”

“It was just a headache. I’m fine, Moira.”

At the sound of Felicity’s voice Oliver’s head snaps towards to entranceway. Her and Thea have just entered the room, Digg beside them. He swears his sister is grinning like the cat that ate the canary. When he catches her eye, the grin only widens.

“Are you sure? Raisa can prepare some of that herbal tea you like.”

“Thank you but I’m okay. Starving, but okay.”

“Well then, let’s eat, shall we?”

As they make their way towards the dining room table, Oliver watches Felicity from the corner of his eye. Their gazes catch a few times when she thinks she’s sneaking glances at him until Thea leans over to whisper something in her ear. Whatever she says makes Felicity duck her head and avoid looking his way as they take their seats.

“So, Oliver, I talked to Jeanine shortly after our conversation yesterday. What does your schedule look like for this afternoon?”

Moira picks up the conversation as various dishes are passed around the table and glasses are filled.

“I was just going to go over a couple contracts and procedures for Applied Sciences, maybe get a work out in. Why?”

“Well, Jeanine has graciously offered to take some time out of her weekend to show you a few of the models in that new apartment complex.”

There’s a clatter from the other side of the table and heads turn to look at Felicity as she fumbles to pick up her now egg-devoid silverware.

“Sorry, I uh, dropped my fork. Sorry. You were talking about apartments or something?”

Oliver tries not to give her too questioning and concerned of a look but he’s curious as to why the topic would draw this sort of reaction. Sure, he hadn’t told her, but it’s not that big of a deal. In fact, having his own place might make things easier on them, less of a chance that someone would walk in on them.

 “You didn’t tell me you were looking for your own bachelor pad, man. Laurel and I have been thinking about getting a new place ourselves. The landlord is kind of an asshole and there’s this creepy old man on the first floor that keeps propositioning her.”

Moira gestures between Tommy and Oliver with her fork as she speaks.

“Well why don’t you two go together? I’m sure Jeanine wouldn’t mind. She’s the one who sold your father that beach house on the coast, Tommy.”

“Actually, that’s not a bad ide, Mom. I don’t know the first thing about buying my own place. It will be good to have someone with me who’s been through it already that’s not just trying to make a commission.”

Oliver’s been meaning to meet up with Tommy for a while now. They haven’t really talked since their lunch weeks ago and he’s missed his best friend. This is the perfect opportunity for them to catch up.

“Yeah man, sure. Laurel’s got this big CNRI case that she’s working on so I was just going to help with inventory at the club. She’s been so stressed about it lately. Maybe this will help take some of that load off of her.”

“Sounds great.”

The only sounds that fill the room for the ensuing couple of minutes are the clinking of silverware and the soft, nearly silent chewing of the individuals gathered around the table. Once everyone has made considerable progress on their respective meals, Robert speaks up from his seat at the head of the table.

"So, Thomas, I hear Verdant has been doing well. I'll admit that when you first approached me about turning the old factory into a nightclub I was a bit skeptical."

Oliver’s father had refused to call him or Tommy by any given nickname once they turned eighteen. They were adults then and would be addressed as such.

What a load of pretentious bullshit.

"Yes, sir, it's doing very well, thanks for asking. We finally broke even with the construction and start up costs about a month ago. Last night was a huge success as well. I might have to convince Sara to work for us on the regular."

Moira pipes in to join the conversation from the opposite end of the table.

"Sara Lance? How is she doing these days? I feel like I haven't seen the girl in ages. Oliver doesn't bring her around as often as he should."

Wait, what?

Why would he bring Sara around? They’re friends, sure, have been for years. But even then they weren’t really the type of friends to just hang out one on one without… hanging out all over his bedroom. Or the pool. Or the home theater. There was also that one time in the kitchen but Raisa walked in and that never happened again. However, that had been years ago, before the Army, and while they were still good friends, the sex wasn’t going to happen again anytime soon, probably ever.

"What are you talking about?"

"Sara didn't tell you? I ran into her the morning after your homecoming. She's a lovely girl, Oliver, and a dear friend of the family. You don't have to hide her from us."

Oh no, no that’s definitely not happening. It’s clear that Moira thinks that he and Sara are… something. Maybe not dating but something other than friends and he needs to put this to rest before it’s even given life.

"Mom, whatever preconceived notions you have, I can assure you they are false."

"Oh sweetheart, it's quite alright. I'm not going to go meddling in your affairs. You're thirty years old for goodness sake. All I'm saying is you two looked handsome together at the CNRI fundraiser and you have my support."

Oliver cringes internally at the memory, not of dancing with Sara but of what he had said to Felicity that night. Glancing wearily across the table, he can see that this is a sore subject for Felicity as well. He wants to take her hand and tell her that she has nothing to worry about but there’s no way to do that from where he’s seated.

"We're not... Sara and I... I'm not seeing Sara Lance nor will I ever be. You’re right, she’s a very good friend and a great person, but that’s it. Can we please drop the subject of my romantic life now?"

Oliver looks right at Felicity as he says the words with conviction. It’s the only way he knows how to make sure that she understands there’s no one else and that there won’t be for the foreseeable future while they’re still in a room full of people. Much to his relief, she gives an almost imperceptible nod to signal her understanding. He gives her a small smile in return.

"Of course, dear. New subject then… Felicity, did you enjoy your party last night?"

The blonde in question moves to respond but Thea beats her to it, mumbling from her seat beside Felicity.

"Enjoy is a bit of an understatement - ow!"

Thea winces and rubs at her leg underneath the table, throwing a small glare in Felicity’s direction.

"What Thea means, is yes, I did. It was wonderful. Thank you so much for helping plan it. I couldn't have asked for a better eighteenth birthday."

She trails off as her eyes meet Oliver’s across the table, a genuine smile spreading across her lips, sincerity shining in her bright blue eyes from behind the framed lenses of her glasses. A beat passes before she seems to come back to herself and quickly breaks their connection, shifting her attention back to Moira.

"Minus the, uh, head ache, that is."

Something on Felicity’s plate seems to occupy her attention then as she looks down at it with the utmost intent. She reaches up to absentmindedly flip a stray piece of hair over her shoulder and adjusts the scarf around her neck.

Just then Tommy chokes on his drink, spiraling into a coughing fit that has Oliver reaching over to hand him his glass of water.

"Here, man, drink some water.”

His friend gratefully accepts the glass and downs its contents, letting out a few stray coughs and clearing his throat in the process.

“You okay?”

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I just thought I saw… never mind, doesn’t matter. Sorry for the interruption.”

There’s a lull in the conversation as everyone takes his or her own moment to assess if Tommy really is okay or if he’s going to dissolve into another bout of coughing. When it seems that the coast is clear, Moira picks up where they left off.

"Okay then... I’m so glad you enjoyed the party, Felicity. I was hoping maybe us girls could go into the city today for a post-birthday shopping spree. But if you're still under the weather we can always do that another time."

“No, no I’m feeling fine now. Nothing a good night of snuggling won’t cure. I mean snuggling like into bed with my pillows and that how-fluffy-is-too-fluffy duvet. Not like with a person because that would be crazy. Why would a person be in my bed? Besides me, obviously. Uhm, yeah, shopping would be great. What time should we leave?”

Between Oliver and Felicity they could write a book, 101 Lame Ass Cover Stories That for Some Reason People Don’t Question. If she wasn’t so prone to babbling someone may have probed her on the subject but thankfully everyone in attendance decides to let it slide.

“Perfect. Would you girls be ready to leave after brunch?”

“Sure! That sounds great.”

The remainder of the meal passes on with inconsequential small talk and soon enough the plates are being cleared as everyone begins to part ways.

Oliver tries his best not to stare after Felicity as she leaves with his mother and sister. However, he must not do a very good job of it because Felicity’s fingers brush against his as she passes him. They linger for a moment longer than what would constitute an accidental touch as she exerts the barest amount of pressure onto his hand. She catches Oliver’s eye and gives him a timid yet reassuring smile before disappearing out the front door, Diggle not far behind.

The older man, who has silently been keeping guard throughout brunch, stops just outside of the door and turns to address Oliver.

“I’ll take care of her, Oliver.”

….

“So who do you think it was?”

Oliver and Tommy are currently touring the penthouse of the apartment complex Moira had been talking about earlier. It’s a nice place, spacious with four bedrooms, more than enough for either of them. Jeanine had left the two to their own devices while she took a phone call from another potential client.

“Tommy, I have no idea what you are talking about. Care to elaborate?”

“The guy who had Felicity’s neck for dessert last night, that’s who! How did you not see the giant ass hickey this morning at brunch?”

Shit. He hadn’t thought about that when it was happening. To be honest, Oliver hadn’t been thinking much about anything last night besides the feel of Felicity in his arms and the sounds she made as he kissed and bit and worshipped her sensitive skin.

“I didn’t notice it. Wasn’t she wearing a scarf?”

That would explain why she was wearing that particular article of clothing in the middle of summer.

“Yeah but, dude, the minute she moved it around, bam! It was right there in the open, not for long I’ll admit but it was fucking massive.”

Oliver pretends to be interested in the counter top of the master bathroom as he gathers his thoughts. Was that granite or marble? Hell if he knows but there are two sinks and an image of him standing side by side with Felicity as they go through their morning routines flashes through his mind unbidden.

When Oliver doesn’t make a move to speak up, Tommy continues on.

“And that smile she kept getting randomly at brunch. Man, I’ve seen that smile before. It’s the boy smile.”

“The boy smile?”

Looking up through the mirror, Oliver gives Tommy an incredulous look before walking to the other side of the master bathroom under the guise of examining the shower.

“Yeah, you know, when a girl meets a boy she thinks is cute and smiles whenever she thinks about him. I’m used to it from Thea but from Felicity, that’s only happened a handful of times.”

Oliver can’t help the brief satisfaction he feels at making Felicity so visibly happy, but he tries his best to tamper it down.

“Maybe she’s just basking in post-birthday bliss. She was having a lot of fun at the party from what I could tell until her head started hurting.”

“Oliver, you haven’t been around teenage girls in awhile and, well, I have, in a totally platonic and sibling-like way. Trust me, that was a boy smile.”

Tommy briefly sets a hand on Oliver’s shoulder as if he’s just spewed some mystery of the universe and is about to make his final point.

“We need to find out who this guy is.”

“Why, exactly?”

“So we can threaten him and maybe get a friendly punch in for that monstrosity he left on her neck.”

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Oliver begins to realize the full implications of Tommy’s words. The protective, big brother instinct that Oliver should have resides full force in Tommy. If his best friend ever found at that he was the reason for the hickey on Felicity’s neck and the smile on her face…

This is what he was afraid of.

“Is that really necessary? I mean maybe she, uh, liked it.”

Images from last night flash through his mind. The sound Felicity had emitted when he nipped at her pulse point replays loud and clear, as if he were actually hearing it again. Her grip on his hair had tightened then as she swiveled her hips against his in a desperate search for friction. Yeah, she definitely liked it.

“Oliver. This is Felicity we’re talking about, practically our adoptive sister. It’s our duty as big brothers to warn any guy who comes within ten feet of her that if he breaks her heart, we break his neck. Also, that image you just gave me is disgusting. Remind me to bleach my brain when I get home.”

They make their way out of the master suite and head back toward the kitchen where Jeanine is waiting for them.

 “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see if she brings up any boys. Until then let’s not worry about it. Aren’t you supposed to be helping me pick a new place of living?”

Anything to change the subject. Thankfully it seems to work as the focus of Tommy’s interest shifts to the apartment, his eyes making a grand sweep of the main living area.

“Right, okay. Well the location is great. Not too far into the city that you’re dealing with terrible street noise 24/7 but close enough that you could probably cut your current commute from the mansion to QC in half. The security is pretty nice, if I’m remembering correctly from what Jeanine mentioned early. “

“I looked into it before we even got here. It’s the highest level of resident building security in the city.”

That was the most important factor on deciding where to live. Oliver wasn’t very picky when it came to location and layout. So long as he had the essentials, he could compromise with the rest. Security, however, was the one thing he was unwilling to compromise on. Luckily, this particular complex was constructed with a certain clientele in mind, one that would greatly value its privacy and be willing to pay for it.

“So there you go! And, there’s a club just a couple blocks down. Perfect bachelor pad location for walking the ladies back here.”

Unfortunately for that line of argument, there’s only one woman Oliver wants to bring back to his place and she’s not quite old enough to get into the club Tommy’s describing.

His best friend continues to explain the benefits of making this apartment his “bachelor pad” but Oliver only hears half of what Tommy’s saying. His mind begins to wander and he can’t help but get lost in the picture it paints; one where he’s not the only person residing in this luxurious penthouse, one where a certain blonde bounces around getting ready for her day in perfect rhythm with him and then falls asleep beside him at night in nothing but his shirt.

They say pictures are worth a thousand words but this one is indescribable.

….

Chapter Text

Fabulous cover by Callistawolf: here

Felicity's outfit: here

....

“Please… please... oh my God... I can't feel my legs. Can I please be done… with this workout?”

Felicity gasps for air as she’s thrown to the cold training mat yet again. Now that her shoulder has healed to the point where it only becomes sore, Digg decided that they should start teaching her a few more intermediate moves. It had taken some adjustment for Oliver. He wasn’t too fond of knocking his… girlfriend? Partner? Lover? No, definitely not lover. That just sounded too inappropriate given the circumstances. His… Felicity. That’s really all he can think of. He’s really not too fond of repeatedly knocking his Felicity to the ground.

“Yeah, you did good. Just remember the trick is to keep your weight evenly distributed.”

Digg gives Felicity a few final pointers as Oliver offers her a hand, one she takes with gratitude. He pulls her up off the ground with little effort, cringing slightly as she reaches a hand up to rub at her neck. That last takedown resulted in a particularly loud thud and Oliver had instantly felt guilty for it.

“I thought the trick was to avoid getting in fights.”

“Unfortunately, you’re not always going to have that option. Especially given the current situation. Both Oliver and I would feel a lot better knowing you can put up enough of a fight to get away.”

A lot better is an exaggeration, at least in Oliver’s mind. There’s only one thing that could make him feel that way about the danger Felicity is in and that’s if it didn’t exist. However, despite his initial rebuff, the training does give Oliver a sliver of… not exactly ease but the closest he can get to it.

He grabs Felicity’s pink sports bottle off the table before handing it to her, gently resting a hand on her hip as he does so. It’s a brief touch, one that can’t even be considered lingering. However, her athletic top had risen during their sparring, uncovering a small ribbon of bare skin at her waist right where Oliver's hand makes contact. They haven’t had any time alone since the morning after her birthday two days ago and it’s only served to rebuild the somewhat satiated tension between them.

When Oliver’s fingers lightly trace the exposed skin, Felicity subconsciously leans closer, following his touch. His hand falls away the next second as Oliver takes a step back, moving to grab his own bottle in order to avoid doing something stupid. Like grabbing her by the waist and pushing her up against the nearest flat surface. While he doesn’t think she’d be opposed, Digg might not be thrilled by it.

“You’re getting better. I almost couldn’t hold onto you that last time.”

“Right, that’s why you had me on my back in less than ten seconds.”

The water bottle slips from between Oliver’s hands but he quickly snatches it midair before it can hit the ground. Glancing up, he catches Felicity’s eye. She looks like she regretted the words the second they escaped, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“I mean you had me pinned. That is, I went down on you. You took me down! Oh my God! Someone please stop me.”

Oliver would, but he’s too preoccupied with the image that Felicity’s words just inspired. Luckily Digg seems to be fairing much better than him and helps her out.

“Shouldn’t you be heading to the showers to get ready for your internship?”

“Right! Yes! I need to go get ready since I can’t just shower, throw clothes on, and go like some people. I’m gonna leave now and go do that. Okay, yeah. Thanks for the training. See you later!”

With that Felicity scurries out of the room, leaving behind a flabbergasted Oliver and an amused Diggle. Once Oliver pulls himself together, he turns to face his friend.

“She’s getting better. I’ll give you that.”

Digg crosses his arms in front of his chest with a smirk.

“I’m glad my training is satisfactory, Private. Seems to have done you well over the years.”

Oliver responds with a laugh before squaring off to face Digg.

“Wanna practice a little hand to hand? We both have time before work to get a few rounds in.”

“Sure. I’ve been itching to put you back in your place for awhile now.”

Digg takes up a defensive stance and waits for Oliver to make the first move, a routine they’ve fallen into over the years as a sort of acknowledgement of their respective ranks. When he does move, a quick right jab that Digg easily dodges, anything becomes fair game. The two parry back and forth, exchanging blows for the next several minutes in silence save for a few grunts and their increased breathing.

It’s Oliver’s lack of control that becomes his downfall.  He takes a backhanded swipe at Digg with more force than necessary so that when his opponent ducks out of contact range it leaves Oliver’s side is exposed. Digg takes the opportunity to knock Oliver to the ground scrambling to grab him in a chokehold. Struggling becomes futile after the first ten seconds because, well, Digg’s arms are the size of bowling balls and Oliver’s learned that once you’re trapped there’s really no way out except to admit to defeat.

“Ok, ok I tap out.”

Digg loosens his hold immediately, dropping Oliver to the mat with a thud.

“I taught you better than that. Never get cocky and always stay in control or you’ll be your own reason for defeat.”

Oliver roles his eyes good-naturedly before smirking as Diggle.

“That’s something I’ve never heard before.”

“And yet after all these years you still make the same mistakes.”

Pushing himself up and off the mat, Oliver grabs his own water bottle and a towel from the wooden cubby that’s always stocked. He takes a swig, swishing the water around in his mouth before spitting it out into the trashcan beside him. Another pull from the bottle that he swallows this time and Oliver sets it back down. He quickly pats at his face with the towel before setting that aside as well. When he turns back to face Digg, Oliver finds his friend with a concerned expression in place.

“What? Is something wrong? Do we need to talk about something with Felicity’s detail?”

Whatever Oliver says seems to spark something in the older man because his expression becomes almost eerily calm, blank.

“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me since you’re with her almost more than I am.”

Uh oh.

“What are you talking about?”

“I think we both know exactly what I mean, Oliver. You forget that I helped train you. I know your tells and I can read you almost as well as I can read Lyla or myself. Not to mention I know when you’re holding back, when you’re being deliberate, and when you’re acting on instinct and aren’t consciously controlling your own movements.”

Silence beats around them as Digg looks Oliver straight in the eye, challenging him. They’ve done this dance before, maybe not in the exact same situation but the general concept is all the same. Oliver tries to sneak around, keeping secrets and telling lies for the good of the people around him. Diggle sees right through it. This is no different.

“If you have something to say, Diggle, just say it.”

“What’s going on with you and Felicity?”

Ah, there it is.

“Digg, it’s just something we’re working through. She and I, we… I care about her, a lot, and not in the same way I care about Thea or Laurel. I tried keeping my distance and so did she but it doesn’t work.”

“It doesn’t work or you didn’t want it to?”

Turning his back on his friend, Oliver walks over to wooden cubby, leaning over his hands as they grasp at the edge.

“I know what it looks like, okay? It’s not something we just dove right into.”

“Then what is it? Because I swear to God, Oliver, if you hurt this girl...”

His grip tightens at the thought. The idea that Oliver would be a source of hurt for Felicity is unimaginable, unthinkable.

“I won’t. And I don’t know exactly what it is, but we’re together and we’re trying to make it work. We’ve already talked about the implications and have decided to keep it quiet for the time being.”

Oliver takes a deep inhale then turns back to face Digg, still leaning against the cabinet for support.

“You think that’s what she deserves? A hidden relationship built on secrets?”

“She knows more about me than almost anyone else.”

Digg raises an eyebrow in opposition, arms crossed in front of his chest as he takes a step closer before grounding his stance.

“Really? Does she know about Bertinelli?”

Oliver pulls a hand off of the ledge behind him to run it roughly through his cropped hair.

“No but – “

“What about Shado?”

Shado. Oliver winces at her name. It’s the first time he’s heard it out loud since coming home and it cuts through him like a knife, leaves a stinging pain in his chest. The air doesn’t escape him in a deep exhale like it would for some, as if being punched in the gut. Instead, Oliver inhales sharply through his nose, fists clenching, before reminding himself to exhale, to breathe.

“No. She knows I have nightmares but not what they’re about. No one does.”

Digg sighs before dropping his arms down to hang at his sides, shaking his head slowly back and forth.

“You know, Oliver, secrets have weight. The longer you ignore them, try to push them away, the harder they drag you down. And they’re gonna drag Felicity down too.”

There’s a pause in the conversation. Oliver looks away from Diggle, studiously gazing at the ceiling as he lets out a shaky breathe. When it becomes clear that he’s not going to respond, Digg clears his throat to continue.

“Man, listen, I know what it’s like to be in a relationship that’s not considered appropriate by the people around you. I get it and I’m not judging you on it. When Lyla and I first started dating, people didn’t take it so well. She was higher in command than me and I was member of her unit at the time. The Army has a policy on dating that disapproves of both of those things, but you know that. We tried to keep it a secret but after awhile that started to take its toll on us and we began fighting. This was before you enlisted so you weren’t there for the fallout. But it was bad. We went days, weeks without talking to each other besides general commands and even that was strained. I just don’t want to see Felicity or you in a similar situation.”

Oliver’s gaze diverts back to Diggle while he’s speaking, but his hands remain clenched, thumb and forefinger rubbing together in agitation.

“I’m not disillusioned about the difficulties of our situation, Digg.”

“Let’s hope Felicity’s not either.”

“She’s not.”

Glancing down at his wrist, Oliver checks the time to find that he needs to get ready for work. Perfect timing.

“I have to go get ready if I want to make it into QC on time. You should do the same.”

With that, Oliver snatches up his water bottle and moves to leave the gym.

“Oliver, I’m not trying to discourage you. I’m just making sure you’re aware of the complications and what you’re getting yourself into with her.”

He pauses at the entryway.

“I know.”

….

Frustration overtakes Oliver as he reads through the last of the Bertinelli proposal yet again. Various department chairs and higher ups in Queen Consolidated have already reviewed it and the majority approved, save for his mother and him. Unfortunately, Moira does not have final say. Her vote is more out of a courtesy than anything else, given to her due to her occasional input and the name on the side of the building. Robert is acting CEO and he had approved the initial proposal along with the board. The only way to prevent this from growing is if Oliver and Diggle can clearly prove Bertinelli’s involvement in the attempts on Felicity’s life and Karen’s trial.

The phone in his office, a spacious room with a wall of windows overlooking the busy street below and beige sidewalls lined with bookshelves, rings and Oliver reaches to answer it.

“Oliver Queen speaking.”

The eager voice of his assistant intern greats him on the other end of the line.

“Hi, Mr. Queen. Just reminding you of your meeting with Bertinelli in an hour and that brief performance review with the head engineer on the DefenseTech project in fifteen.”

How could he possibly forget?

“Thanks, Barry. Anything else?”

“Uhm, yeah, Felicity is here to see you with those technical diagnostics from IT.”

"Great. Send her in."

A smile lights Oliver's face as he hears the click of heels in the hallway, increasing in volume as the woman they belong to gets closer to his office. He would recognize her gait anywhere. Shuffling the papers on his desk around into a semi-straightened pile, Oliver stuffs them into a Manila folder and sets them aside on the corner of his desk. The door swings open as Felicity enters, file in hand, before shutting it and making her way over to the side of Oliver's desk.

"Mr. Queen, I have those files from IT about the hard wiring and systems diagnostics. We ran a few tests on the RAM speed and anti-tampering technology of some of the prototypes to test for glitches in the digital circuits. Additionally, we thought it a good idea to program a second power unit as a sort of back up generator in the central processor to avoid race condition faults. And why are you looking at me like that?"

He isn't aware he's giving her any sort of look, just that he doesn't understand what half of those words meant yet finds it a complete turn on when she uses them.

"Like what?"

"Like you want to eat me."

Oliver stands from his chair, extending a hand to accept the file from her. He haphazardly tosses it onto his desk before taking Felicity's hand and drawing her into him.

When she's close enough to touch, Oliver slides a hand around her waist and leans down to whisper in her ear.

"Maybe I do. I bet you'd taste good on my tongue, all warm and wet for me."

He revels in the way Felicity's breath catches and fists tighten in the material of his suit jacket at his words.

"Has anyone ever done that for you? Pleasured you with their mouth until you screamed?"

He punctuates the statement by gently taking her ear lobe into his mouth, devoid of its usual decorative earrings.

" No- oh!"

His actions turn the word into a breathy moan and Oliver pulls back slightly to observe as her eyes darken with lust. That's when he notices the barbell in her opposite ear.

"When did you get this done?"

A blush paints Felicity's features, more defined than the all over flush from her arousal. It only serves to make her that much more enticing.

"Uhm, yesterday with... with Thea after Moira left for a cocktail hour with possible investors."

Oliver reaches out and very gently runs his thumb along the steel bar, careful not to put pressure on the tender cartilage.

"You've got a little bit of a rebellious streak to you, Miss Smoak. Tattoos, industrial piercings..."

"Dating an older man. Wow, I really am the poster child for rebellion. You know, if I ever actually opposed to the authority figures in my life. Never was much for sticking it to the man. Unless said man was either a) wrong or b) a misogynistic pig."

He chuckles a little at that, the heat from their previous exchange dying down to a simmer as adoration and enamor take its place. He frames Felicity's face in his hands and pulls her close, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before whispering into her hair.

"I'm really glad I kissed you."

"That makes two of us."

They stand in silence, Felicity leaning against Oliver's chest and his arms wrapped tightly around her, just enjoying being with each other. She takes in a deep inhale and burrows a little further into his chest before sighing in contentment. He pulls her that much closer for it.

But just like all silences this one must come to an end and it does so when Felicity speaks softly against his chest.

"Why didn't you tell me you were moving out?"

Oliver tries not to react but he knows she can feel the minute stiffening of his body by the way she takes a small step back from him.

"It was a really new development. I had just mentioned it to mother the previous day. I hadn't expected her to set it up so soon."

"Is it because of me? I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable in your own home."

His hands slip away from her waist to grab her hands, fingers interlocking.

"No, Felicity it's not because of you. I'm thirty years old. I have a steady job and a trust fund with more than enough money. I just think it’s time I got my own place."

Felicity flicks her gaze towards the windows just over his shoulder and licks her lips, rolling them together in concentration, before taking a deep breathe to steel herself for whatever she’s about to say.

“So this isn’t about you being weirded out that we’re already technically living together therefore skipping about twenty million steps in the road of coupledom? Because every movie, TV show, and other media platform ever says that when a reformed party boy starts settling down with the good girl shit hits the fan and he does something really stupid, like heroine or a prostitute or both. Not that you would do any of those things because I know you wouldn’t. What I mean by that is, this isn’t you getting cold feet, right? Because if you think I’m pushing you or we’re going too fast, you can tell me.”

Oliver blinks at her, a blank expression on his face as he processes Felicity’s words, before his features morph into an all out grin. A laugh escapes his throat before he can stop it and Felicity lightly hits his chest for it.

“Hey! Don’t laugh at me. This is a serious conversation we’re having here.”

“Felicity, I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at the fact that my eighteen-year-old girlfriend is making sure that I, a grown man, am not feeling pressured into things that I’m not ready for. Do you know how incredible you are?”

 Felicity’s lips part in a timid smile at his words.

“You called me your girlfriend.”

He did. Earlier this morning, Oliver had wondered about what to call her. Girlfriend seemed too insignificant to him and honestly made him feel a little bit like the creepy old guy with the hot young girl on his arm. But it had slipped out in the moment and reality made it seem a little bit better than it sounded in his head.

“I don’t know what to call you exactly. Girlfriend seems inadequate for what you are to me but it just sort of slipped out. Is that okay?”

Felicity shifts onto her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to Oliver’s mouth. He relishes in the contact, lightly protesting when she pulls away to whisper against him.

“Yeah. It’s okay. Although I agree, girlfriend and boyfriend seems a little… high school. Even though technically I would have just been graduating that institution if it weren’t for my genius intellect.”

He releases a groan of mock disgust at her words.

“Please don’t remind me of that. Do you know how often people like to bring up how young you are? God, I felt like a cradle robber for even thinking about it.”

“You can’t rob something that’s willingly given to you.”

Felicity’s hands loop around Oliver’s neck as she pushes onto her tiptoes. Just as she hauls herself up his body to kiss him once more, the phone begins to ring.

The performance review.

“Felicity, I have to take this. They just ran a performance test on one of the basic mechanical functions for the DefenseTech weaponry. That’s the head engineer on the line for me.”

With a sigh, Felicity’s hands break their hold as she slides down his body. Oliver’s eyes slam shut at the sensation of her nails lightly dragging over his chest through the material of his dress shirt. She gives him a light shove, barely moving him, before popping up onto his desk, her floral print skirt sliding up her thighs at the motion.

“That’s okay. I’ll just wait here. I finished all the program coding they had me working on an hour ago. I promise to be good.”

Oliver grunts in acknowledgement before picking up the phone off the receiver.

“Oliver Queen.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Queen. This is Edward Kim, head engineer on the DefenseTech project. We ran a couple very basic tests on some of the elementary mechanical functions of one of the prototypes over here in the Applied Sciences building this morning. I’d like to inform you that the results are promising.”

“Great. Why don’t you give me some of the details?”

Within five minutes of the conversation Felicity begins to mess around with the clutter on Oliver’s desk. He doesn’t mind because honestly the organization is needed. Unfortunately, all the shifting around only serves to move the hem of her skirt further up her legs, causing his focus to transfer from the conversation on the phone to the birthmark on Felicity’s outer thigh. After one particularly adventurous twist to grab a file on the opposite edge of his desk, Oliver has to put a stop it. However, his attempts at control only serve to further his distraction as his hand lands on the bare skin of her thigh.

Felicity looks up then, bright blue eyes gazing at him questioningly from behind her glasses. When Oliver’s fingers flex against her skin, her eyes widen in understanding before narrowing into an impish grin, a look that spells trouble for him. She straightens up from her leaning position, making no effort to straighten out the hem of her skirt. It remains bunched around the tops of her thighs, the loose flowing material making its position appear more innocent than it really is.

“Mr. Queen? Are you there?”

The engineer’s voice brings him back to his conversation on the phone.

“Yes, yes I’m here. Please, continue.”

Felicity raises an eyebrow at Oliver before placing her hand atop his. They’re hands slide further up her thigh, the material of her skirt climbing higher and higher over the seemingly never ending expanse of creamy skin, and don't stop until the reach the very top of her thigh. Any further and Oliver has no doubt that he would be able to see what she has on underneath. His fingers flex and release against her, then begin rubbing circles into her thigh. Felicity’s eyes momentarily flutter shut at the contact, a sharp breath in through her nose as her head tips back. Oliver leans forward, lips tenderly but lightly brushing against the area just above her opposite knee in a soundless kiss, a silent whisper over her skin. He grins against her in satisfaction as her grip on his wrist tightens.

“Have I lost you to all the engineering and programming jargon yet, Mr. Queen?”

Well, it’s not the conversation on the phone that has him captivated, that’s for sure.

“No, I’m following you, Mr. Kim. You were saying something about circuit boards?”

Oliver tries to bring his attention back to the man on the other line, sitting back in his large, leather chair and reluctantly dragging his hand away from Felicity’s leg. She pouts a little at that, causing him to grin, but then it fades back into a warm smile and she gestures with her hand for him to focus back on the phone call, returning to her job of organizing his desk.

A few minutes further into the conversation, Oliver becomes distracted once again as Felicity hops off the desk, steadying herself before turning to face away from him. As she leans over to straighten out the name plaque and stapler he has never even touched, the back of her skirt rides up, hem ending just bellow the curve of her ass. He wonders if Felicity knows what she’s doing to him by bending over his desk, what indecent thoughts start running through his mind, mixing with something about electrical efficiency and closed versus open circuits coming through the phone. When Felicity flips her ponytail over her should and glances back at Oliver, he realizes that she knows exactly what she’s doing.

With a soft thud, Oliver’s head falls back against the headrest of his chair. There’s a soft laugh from the blonde in front of him that does absolutely nothing to calm his growing arousal.

“Do you have any questions, Mr. Queen?”

Honestly, Oliver didn't fully understand half of what the engineer on the line had said. And not just because his attention was otherwise occupied. However, Queen Consolidated only hired the best of the best and this was there number one engineer on staff. If he sounded excited and optimistic about the prototypes, then it was a safe bet that they were doing something right. Oliver wouldn’t even know where to begin asking questions on the subject. Financing and business contracts were okay but technology and programming went right over his head.

"No, it sounds like your staff is working hard and producing good results. That's exactly what I like to hear."

Felicity turns around to face him, leaning back against the desk with ankles crossed. Her head tips to the side in a silent question.

"Thank you, Mr. Queen. We are very confident in our work and look forward to relaying even more good news as the project progresses.”

"Let's hope so. Good day, Mr. Kim."

"Have a pleasant rest of the afternoon, Mr. Queen."

A click from the other end signals the disconnection of the line. Oliver let's out a long sigh of relief, carding his fingers through his hair before sliding his hand down to cup the back of his neck. He looks up as Felicity lightly pushes off the desk and takes a small step in his direction, her leg brushing up against his knee as she rocks forward and back on top of her turquoise heels.

"Was that about the preliminary testing?"

"Yeah, they just finished this morning and wanted to let me know how it went. Although I couldn’t understand half of what he was saying anyway."

Felicity laughs at that, a stray lock falling out of her always-tidy ponytail. She quickly reaches up to tuck it behind her ear and smiles at Oliver as he leans back in his chair.

"I know. You get this little crease between your eyes when anyone starts talking technology and when you're really confused you go all trigger finger on your right hand. Actually, you should be careful about that. The tendons there can become really sensitive and swell, throwing off the flexor and retinacular pulley system. It causes a lot of pain and hinders movement in your hand."

It startles Oliver a little bit that Felicity’s made these observations. He knew he had a nervous tick, "trigger finger" as she put it. But no one had ever really picked up, much less commented, on it. It’s something he developed from his time in the Army. Having a gun in his hands, although a bit terrifying at first as the implications that came with it flooded through him, had become a sort of control for Oliver. The weapon was safety, security. He had to focus and control himself to take aim and wield it properly. At times it had served to ground him amidst chaos. It would make sense that the habit of pulling the invisible trigger would keep him in check when frustrated.

“I don’t think anyone has ever picked up on that before.”

Felicity gives him a shy smile before taking Oliver’s hand in both of hers, smoothing out his fingers between her soft palms. Even with both hands wrapped around it, his hand still looks so large compared to hers. Light glints off of the gems on her ring as Felicity hesitantly brings his hand to her mouth, gently kissing his thumb and index finger.

“I don’t think anyone spends as much time staring at your hands as I do.”

Immediately her eyes widen before squeezing shut, unceremoniously dropping Oliver's hand from in between hers and causing it to fall to his knee with a small slap. Felicity slides a hand over the top of her ponytail before sighing.

“My brain thinks of the worst things to say. It seriously hates me.”

With a laugh and a grin, Oliver extends both his hands to gently grasp the tops of her arms until she looks at him. When she finally does, they slide down to take her hands and tug her forward, bringing Felicity into his lap.

It’s a little awkward at first as she shifts around. Her knee digs into his thigh and her elbow knocks into his side. Oliver’s also pretty sure that his hand accidentally grazes her breast when he reaches out to offer her assistance. He stops doing that immediately. When she’s finally situated in his lap, a leg resting on either side of his waist as she straddles him, he can feel her body shaking with laughter.

“I love it when you do that.”

“What? When I make a total fool of myself with my complete lack of filter and sex appeal?”

Oliver brings his hands up to cup her face, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, lightly sipping at her mouth, before pulling back.

“No. I love it when you say what’s on your mind. I’ve spent a lot of time around people who don’t, myself included. It’s refreshing and invigorating – “

“What am I? A spring time scented air freshener?”

“AND it’s something I could learn from. Communication was never my strong suit.”

“You’re getting better at it.”

His thumbs trace across the tops of her cheeks in affection before bringing her in for another kiss. This one lingers, pushes past the point of gentle and into passionate territory. As their lips dance across one another’s, tongues eagerly stroking and begging for entry, one of Oliver’s hands slides to the back of her head to weave his fingers through the golden strands at the base of her ponytail. His other hand jumps down to her waist, gripping tight and bunching the fabric where her skirt and blouse meet but not pulling her closer just yet.

Felicity’s hands wander, sliding down Oliver’s chest and pausing at his abdomen to press against it and trace over the area. He knows the moment she feels the giant half-moon scar on his side. Not because her hands startle in their exploration or pause in confusion, but because he’s memorized the places and ways that his body has been deformed. At first it had been an issue of vanity but that quickly transitioned into something else. His scars spoke of his past, his trials and tribulations, of the things he went through for a cause he believed in and a person he wanted to be.

It was a sensitive subject for him now, not out of shame but out of the need for privacy and the vulnerability they presented in him. That’s why the only people to openly see them, inspect them since his return, have been Felicity and the medics who ran his exam upon his arrival home. Thea and Sara had both come in contact with them, but only briefly so. With Sara, Oliver kept the lights off and his body covered for as long as possible. With Thea, he turned away and hid them with his shirt as soon as she let him. Oliver hasn’t allowed anyone to get as close to them as Felicity had that night in his room and he certainly hasn’t told anyone else the stories behind them.

But Felicity’s hands continue their travels, treating each unnatural bump and ridge that she comes across as nothing more than if it were uninterrupted skin. For that Oliver is extremely grateful and he expresses this by molding his mouth harder against hers, angling their heads for deeper access. She moans against him in response, hands grasping tightly at the waistband of his slacks to pull their lower bodies closer and grind against him.

Their breaths mingle as they pant against each other, the need for air becoming increasingly prominent.

“Felicity…”

Oliver trails a line of kisses down her throat to her collarbone, careful not to apply too much pressure this time lest he visibly mark her again.

“You most definitely do not lack sex appeal. Jesus, how can you even think that when I…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. Instead, Oliver grasps at Felicity’s waist and presses her against his hardening length, eliciting a whimper from Felicity as her head lolls to the side. Travelling to her shoulder, he noses the loose black material of her shirt out of the way and explores the newly exposed skin. Oliver nips at the top of her shoulder before pressing a tender kiss against it, then retraces his path to her collarbone.

Felicity gasps and pants above him, urging his mouth closer to her chest.

“When you what, Oliver?”

Her fingers card through Oliver's hair and press his face tighter against her as she arches into him. The shirt she has on is a V-neck and loose enough that the top of her bra starts to peek out of it. The temptation strikes Oliver hard, to reach inside and take her in his hand. He wants to know what she feels like there, to hear the sounds she'll make as he rolls her rosy nipple between his fingers while taking the other in his mouth. The image alone causes Oliver to groan against the top of her breast where his lips have journeyed.

“When all I can think about is spreading you across my desk and having my way with you.”

Felicity’s breath catches at the words growled against her skin and she presses herself even closer to Oliver, every inch of their bodies teasingly moving against each other. He's helpless to resist now as his hand slides up her ribcage and cups her breast over her clothing. His eyes shift upwards and he doesn’t move until they meet hers, silently asking for permission. Felicity grants it full heartedly as her eyes flutter shut and she pushes further into Oliver's hand. He begins to knead the sensitive flesh, lips moving back up the length of her neck before latching back on to hers.

Felicity breaks off from the kiss with a gasp when Oliver’s hand wanders beneath her clothing, quickly pushing the cup of her bra down and away from her breast. His thumb rubs back and forth across her nipple as Oliver continues to knead with the rest of his hand. She squirms in his lap at the sensation before rocking against him in a desperate search for friction, small mewling sounds escaping her mouth. It’s one of the most captivating sights he’s ever seen.

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

Oliver punctuates the remark with a pinch of her hardened peek that makes Felicity cry out.

“Ah!”

It’s loud, louder than it should be in a public office space. But Oliver wants to feel her again so he brings his mouth back to hers in an effort to muffle her moaning. His other hand, which until now had been gripping and releasing against her waist, lands on the top of her thigh and slides upward. The material of her skirt gathers around her waist in the process until Oliver can see the lacey edge of her bright pink underwear. Of their own accord, his fingers begin to trace it, following the lace from beneath her hipbone to the juncture between her thighs. Felicity jerks against him, rubbing their centers together and drawing a hiss from Oliver’s mouth as she moans against it. Heat floods through him and overrides his senses as their hips pick up a delicious rhythm rocking against each other, building a pressure deep inside him.

It’s the shrill ringing of the office phone that pulls them both out of their pleasure-filled haze. At first both Oliver and Felicity attempt to ignore it, mouths continuing to pass over one another’s as their lower bodies insistently press together in search of relief. But it rings again… and again…

“I think you should maybe – oh – answer that!”

He hears her but he doesn’t listen, hands meeting at her lower back and then sliding down over the curve of her ass and underneath her skirt. Felicity inhales sharply, mouth falling open in a silent exclamation of pleasure as Oliver palms at the cheeks of her ass, briefly gripping them tightly in his hands. He presses her down harder against him at the same moment that his hips jerk up into hers and groans at the delicious feeling of only being separated by a few thin layers of clothing.

“If it’s important they’ll leave a message.”

Oliver removes his hands from beneath her skirt to pull at the bottom of her blouse, untucking it from her waistband and sliding his hands underneath to glide along her taut stomach. They easily wrap around her sides, fingertips nearly touching as he clutches at Felicity’s ribcage and pulls her body flush against his like he can’t get close enough. A series of gasps and moans escape Felicity as he massages tiny circles into her skin and shifts her against him, showing her the best way to ride him.

“Oliver! Oliver, we really need to stop. I think – ahhh! – I think I hear someone coming!”

Sure enough, the second he pauses his ministrations to focus, the distinct sound of voices approaching his office reaches Oliver’s ears.

“I’m not sure why Mr. Queen didn’t answer. He just got off the phone with Mr. Kim maybe ten minutes ago and he knew Mr. Bertinelli was coming in to see him.”

“It’s okay, Barry. I’ll just go in to make sure everything is okay. You go back with Mr. Bertinelli and I’ll have Oliver call him in as soon as he can.”

Digg. Shit.

“Felicity, it’s – “

“I am very aware of the fact that my bodyguard is about to walk in on me dry humping his best friend, Oliver! Oh my God, I need to hide!”

Felicity scrambles off of Oliver’s lap, frantically attempting to organize herself into a presentable appearance that doesn’t scream of sex. Her eyes dart around the office, looking for somewhere to hide but to no avail. Oliver’s do the same while his hands also attempt to right his own clothing. Finally his gaze lands on the alcove under the desk meant for his legs.

“Here, under the desk.”

Felicity stares at him incredulously.

“Are you serious, Oliver? Do you know what that is going to look like if Digg catches me?”

Unfortunately, he does. But there’s no time to lose as a knock sounds from the opposite side of the door. Felicity dives beneath the desk as Oliver takes a seat in the leather chair, reaching down to adjust himself in his pants. He glances down at Felicity to make sure she has enough space before scooting closer to the desk. She rests her hand on his knee for a moment as she shifts around and the touch sends a small jolt through him, doing nothing to calm his currently throbbing dick.

Oliver tries to think of something, anything, to dissipate his arousal as a second round of knocking begins accompanied by Digg’s voice calling through the door.

“Hey, Oliver, is everything alright in there?”

Clearing his throat, Oliver calls out to Diggle.

“Yes, everything’s fine. Come on in.”

The door opens as his friend enters the office, instinctively scoping out the area before making his way towards Oliver.

“Have you seen Felicity? She’s supposed to be with you. I escorted her to Barry’s desk and watched her come in here about forty-five minutes ago. Kid said he didn’t see her leave.”

Oliver does everything he can to avoid any signs of nervousness under Digg’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Yeah, she just went back to IT. You must have missed her somehow.”

“… Right. I’m not going to question that in fear of what the answer might be. But Oliver, Bertinelli is waiting outside your office for you so whatever is going on better not be putting her at risk."

The meeting. Truth be told Oliver had forgotten all about it the second Felicity walked through his office door. He had forgotten about a lot of things in that moment and the following ones, actually.

"It's not. I'll take care of it. If you head back to IT I'm sure you will be able to find her there."

Digg lets out an exasperated sigh, bringing his arms forward to cross in front of his chest.

"You need to tell her about Bertinelli.  The board approved his limited involvement in the DefenseTech project. It's only a matter of time until he pushes for more, meaning he and his organization are gaining access and information that puts Felicity in danger. I know you want to protect her, but at this point she is in more danger not knowing."

Oliver tries his hardest not to blatantly look down at Felicity beneath the desk. However, his eyes can't help but wander to gauge her reaction. Her body is rigid and her gaze silently questions him, almost accusingly so. He wants to reach out to her, explain to her what is happening and why he didn’t tell her. But they both know that he can’t with Digg here. So instead, Oliver shifts back to face his friend once again and tries to explain to her with his next words, even if they aren’t directed at her.

“I just don’t want her to worry. We don’t have a lot of solid evidence that Bertinelli is the one responsible for her endangerment. All we’re going on is Karen’s involvement with Solvate a few years back. That’s hardly proof.”

“I understand that just as much as you do. But the fact remains that we can’t risk it anymore. Keeping her in the dark with Bertinelli closing in isn’t an option and if you don’t tell her then I will.”

Oliver sighs in reluctant acceptance.

“Okay. You’re right. I’ll tell her.” Oliver adds on to his statement when Digg throws him a pointed look. “Tonight. I’ll tell her tonight.”

No need to mention that she’s already heard all of this from her hidden position.

“She deserves to know, Oliver. She deserves to know everything.”

“I get it, okay? I know she deserves the truth. Consider her already informed.”

Diggle drops his arms to his sides at Oliver’s frustrated and defeated tone, realizing that they aren’t just talking about Bertinelli anymore.

“You’ll both be a lot better off once it’s out there. It’ll be good for you to have someone else to talk to. Plus, Felicity is a strong girl. She’s capable of handling it.”

He knows that. Felicity can handle more than almost anyone he knows and that’s saying something. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting to shelter her from the evils of the world. She’s hope and goodness and he’ll be damned if he becomes the reason that her light is dimmed.

“Now if I’m not mistaken, you’re supposed to be in a meeting. Should I send Bertinelli in as I leave?”

“No! No, I’ll be out in a second. I just need to gather some files. Will you let him know that I’ll be there shortly when you pass him on your way out?”

“Sure.”

Oliver sighs in relief as Diggle leaves the room, only to be cut off as Felicity shoves his chair away and pulls herself out from her hiding spot. One look at her face and he knows he’s in trouble.

“Felicity, I can explain.”

“Explain what? The fact that you are looking into my attempted murder? That it might be Frank Bertinelli, whose house I ate dinner at? That you were seriously considering not telling me?”

She’s angry, livid; standing strong as her voice becomes steadier and more enraged the longer she speaks.

“Or how about that fact that Diggle clearly knows something is going on between us and you clearly know that he knows?”

Oliver stands from his seat, slightly intimidated by her current state but still trying to prevent the disagreement from escalating to a flat out argument.

“He just found out this morning, after training. I was going to tell you as soon as we had a chance to talk privately.”

“When were you planning on telling me about Bertinelli and my mother?”

The question hangs between them in the ensuing silence. Oliver can almost feel it, an invisible force pushing them apart. He doesn’t know how to answer because honestly, he had been avoiding the subject. When he makes no move to reply, Felicity’s expression falls.

“That’s what I thought. You can’t protect me from everything bad in the world and I don’t need you to. This isn’t going to work if you treat me like a little kid, Oliver. ”

“I know that. I know you’re not a child and I would never purposefully treat you like one.”

He tries to take a step forward, tries to grab at her hand. But Felicity pulls away, taking a step backwards and tucking her arms around herself.

“Then don’t act like I can’t take the truth. It’s my life that’s in danger. It’s my choice if I want to know or not and I want to know.”

“Felicity, can we talk about this later?”

The fight in her eyes dissipates for a moment as she pulls her arms closer to her chest, hands rubbing up and down on the tops of her arms as she looks away from Oliver and at a spot over his shoulder.

“Sure. Whatever you want, Oliver.”

Her sardonic tone stings him like a whip cutting into bare flesh. It’s flat, absent of the fire that is usually present in everything she does.

“I’m sorry but I really can’t have this conversation right now no matter how much I want to. And believe me, I want to. I have a – “

“You have a meeting with Bertinelli. I understand. I need to step out for some air anyway.”

Felicity turns on her heels, purposefully marching towards the door with shoulders set and arms hanging by her sides.

“Felicity, please. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“I’ll see you back at the house.”

She doesn’t look back once as she leaves, door shutting tightly behind her.

Chapter Text

Felicity's outfit: here

....

The front door of the mansion closes behind him with a resounding thud that sounds almost as ominous as the clank of a prison cell sliding shut. Muffled voices come from the living room, some clearer than the others. As Oliver approaches the room, he’s surprised to find Thea watching TV with their father. For a moment he contemplates walking out of the room and walking back in, just to make sure he’s not hallucinating.

“Uh, hi Thea and… Dad. What are you guys doing?”

Thea shifts the popcorn bowl from her lap to Robert’s so that she can twist around to fully face Oliver. She props both hands atop the back of the couch and rests her chin on them.

“Dad and I were just about to start a movie. I’d ask you to join us but then I would have to fill you in on every pop culture reference made and I’ve never seen this one before so that would be even more annoying than usual.”

Oliver rolls his eyes in amusement.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. I was in the Army for five years, not stranded on some deserted island.”

“Yeah, yeah. Same difference.”

He’s about to respond that no, actually it’s not ‘same difference’ when Robert speaks up.

“Evening, Son. How did the meeting with Mr. Bertinelli go? I assume he was pleased that the board passed his proposal.”

“It’s only provisional, as I made very sure to inform him.”

Provisional as in the second Oliver has solid evidence against Bertinelli, the contract will be revoked and that man will have nothing to do with Applied Sciences or Queen Consolidated ever again. One step closer to getting him the hell out of Felicity’s life.

“Yes well, if all goes well Queen Consolidated could gain a very affluent benefactor in Frank Bertinelli. Let’s make sure he’s aware of our interest, shall we?”

Oliver bites his tongue, having learned long ago that it’s easier to just nod and agree with Robert on these things.

“Of course, Dad.”

A beat passes in silence, Thea’s eyes bouncing back and forth between Oliver and their father before she sighs, loudly.

“Oookay, well I would really like to start this movie now and I think Oliver has something he needs to do. Don’t you, Ollie? Something about the office and IT?”

It shouldn’t keep surprising Oliver that Thea is in the know when it comes to his relationship with Felicity, but it does.

However, he’s grateful that Felicity has someone she can go to when they are at odds. Because although he would like to be the one she talks to about everything under the sun, Oliver knows there will be times when he’s not the best one to go to. When they have strong disagreements for example.

“Oliver? What is she talking about? Is something wrong with the project?”

“No, father, everything’s fine. They just ran through some of the basic programming today and want my feedback on the results. I should go ahead and do that. Actually, Thea, do you know where Felicity is? She could probably help explain some of the technical terms to me.”

His sister raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him before rolling her eyes.

“You mean dumb it down for you? Yeah, she said something about needing air and going for a walk around the property.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you get to your movie then.”

Oliver pivots on his feet and heads straight for the kitchen. He’s almost out of sight when Thea calls out to him.

“Hey Ollie? Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”

“I know.”

With that, Oliver makes his way down the hallway and through the kitchen to the back patio. The soles of his Italian leather shoes slap against the flat stones as he strides towards the stairs. Although Thea hadn’t specified where exactly Felicity was walking to, he has a pretty good idea.

Sure enough, ten minutes later Oliver hears music flowing amongst the treetops in the patch of woods on their property. The melodious tune almost seems to ride on the soft breeze that rustles the leaves. It grows louder the closer he gets to the wooden house nestled in the branches above. Along with the melody comes the soft sound of humming with the occasional lyric sung aloud.

Oliver stands at the base of the tree, wondering if he should turn back or just face the music. Felicity had clearly implied that she needed space; time to process the information she had discovered while in his office. He understood that and respects her need to be alone but he also wants to be upfront with her, give her all the facts before she makes a decision on how to move forward with this.

“Oliver, I know you’re there.”

Felicity’s voice startles him from his mental pondering. There’s no turning back now.

“Can we talk?”

She doesn’t answer right away, a beat of silence passing between them as Felicity makes her decision. Oliver waits with bated breath, knowing that this could go in very different directions depending upon her answer.

“Give me a second.”

He sighs in relief at her response and listens to the rustling of pages and the opening and closing of the small cabinet doors as she puts whatever she was reading or writing in away. The music cuts off mid-verse and then Felicity’s feet slide out over the edge of the tree house and onto the top rung of the ladder. Oliver takes a step back to give her space as she makes her way down, only looking at him once her feet hit the ground and she’s leaning back against the trunk of the tree.

“Okay, talk.”

Everything he had planned to say leaves his mind the second their eyes meet. He expected to find anger, indignation burning in her gaze. She would be in the right to feel that way. But instead he sees hurt, disappointment and that cuts deeper than any fiery storm of rage from her ever could. It scrambles his thoughts and tosses his premeditated reconciliation right out the window, leaving behind extreme remorse and the knowledge that he thoroughly screwed up this time.

“Where’s Digg?”

“That’s what you’re going to ask? Where’s Digg?”

All Oliver can do is shrug. This is his form of stalling until he can think of the right thing to say. Clearly he isn’t doing a very good job of it.

“He tried to come with me but I asked him to give me some time alone. In my loud voice.”

Neither of them speaks for a moment. This is unfamiliar territory for them. Sure they had some… disagreements and tension-filled phases since his return but nothing like this. This was a fight over broken trust. Felicity had been honest with Oliver from the beginning. She had clued him in to how she felt, had been there for him when the nightmares were too much. The fact that he hadn’t given her the same honesty in return must feel like a blow to the gut. It sure leaves Oliver with a bitter taste in his mouth and a pit in his stomach.

“I’m sorry, Felicity.”

“Sorry you kept things from me or sorry I found out?”

She’s definitely not holding back or letting him off easy, that’s for sure.

“The first one. Both. I don’t know. I shouldn’t have kept this from you.“

“No. You shouldn’t have. But you did, Oliver. Saying you’re sorry isn’t going to take that back. I’ve been honest with you this entire time and you kept something huge from me.”

Her voice rises in volume, not quite yelling but not quite at a conversational level either. Anger seeps into her voice, but hurt and betrayal are still dominant in her eyes.

Oliver looks away, unable to hold Felicity’s gaze.

“I know that, Felicity. I know it was a huge mistake keeping this from you and I’m sorry that you found out the way you did. You asked me earlier if I ever planned on telling you and truthfully, I hadn’t thought about it. I was only thinking about your safety. You have to know everything I’ve done, everything I’ve kept from you was to protect you.”

Felicity pushes off the base of the tree, getting into Oliver’s personal space and refusing to back down. It’s ridiculous, he’s at least a foot taller than her and twice her size, but Oliver finds himself taking a step back in intimidation.

“And look what that’s done. Secrets don’t keep anyone safe, Oliver. All they do is cause problems and put people at risk. We need to be honest with each other. I know you have things in your past that you aren’t ready to talk about and I understand that. Because I know that you’ll tell me when you’re able to and the time is right. But this isn’t your past. It’s my present and my future. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me and my safety. I do.”

The fire is back in her eyes, something Oliver is incredibly relieved to see even if it’s directed at him. In fact, he’s glad it is. Despite the rough patch they’re in, he can’t help but admire the passion that drives Felicity and pours into everything she does.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Tell me what I need to do to make this up to you. Tell me what I need to do so that we’re okay. Please, Felicity.”

Her eyes soften at his pleading, not entirely losing their spark but no longer hard-set in anger. They close for a moment as she breathes deeply, letting out a long sigh before fluttering open once more to reveal deep blue pools of emotion.

“I just need the truth. Was my mother involved with Frank Bertinelli?”

“We think so. Diggle found information linking her to his right hand man on a project a few years ago. The project fell through and Bertinelli lost a lot of money but so did Kord Industries. That’s all we’ve been able to find so far.”

Oliver studies Felicity, gauging her reaction. She lets out another deep, shuttering breath before nodding her head in acceptance.

“Okay… okay. So you think that because of something that happened during the project Bertinelli is, what? Using me to get back at my mother somehow?”

“Yes. We think the attempts on your life might be a warning or a threat of sorts.”

“Oh my God… It makes sense now.”

Felicity’s hands come up to cover her face before sliding back over the sides of her ponytail, fingers interlocking at the top of her head. Her eyes screw shut as she worries at her bottom lip with her teeth.

“What makes sense? What are you talking about?”

“When we were at Bertinelli’s for dinner, you found Thea and I outside of an office. Well, we were on our way back from the restroom when I thought I heard my name from inside. So we stopped to listen. It didn’t make much sense at the time. They kept talking about money and it honestly sounded like some sort of business transaction. But… but right before you showed up they mentioned my mother. I didn’t hear anything else though because, like I said, you were there.”

So that’s why Felicity had seemed so off for the remainder of the dinner party.

Oliver wants to wrap his arms tightly around her, wants whisper into her hair that everything is going to be okay. He needs her to know that he won’t let anything happen to her but he’s not sure how the contact will be received.

“I just don’t understand what my mother has to do with the project falling through. It’s not like she owned the company. Sure she had a lot of pull at Kord, but nothing that would make her the one to blame. And anyway, she’s being tried in a few weeks. If Bertinelli blamed her wouldn’t this be the justice he wanted? Why go after me? It just doesn’t make any sense, Oliver.”

“I know it doesn’t but it’s all Diggle and I have right now, aside from what you just told me, and the police don’t have any other leads either. This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to worry you about something that we aren’t even sure of ourselves. Although from the sound of it, we’re not far off the mark.”

Felicity turns away from him, arms crossing tightly in front of her as she takes a few steps away. Oliver can tell she’s trying to think this through by the set of her shoulders and the way she nods to herself. He lets her contemplate the information he’s just shared until she pivots back around to face him, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“I don’t understand, Oliver. How are we or anyone else supposed to stop this if there’s not even a logical explanation for it?”

He takes a hesitant step in Felicity’s direction, slowly raising a hand towards her to see if she’ll move away from him or allow the contact. When she doesn’t take a step back, Oliver gently cups her cheek in his hand before mimicking his actions on the other side.

“Felicity, there’s an explanation for this and we’re going to find it. I won’t ever let anything happen to you. I lo – I really, really care about you. And when this is all over, I’m still going to be here for you, in whatever capacity you want me. Okay?”

Felicity’s eyes search his, looking for what he isn’t sure. But whatever she finds must be at least close to what she needs because he can feel her body slightly relax in his hold.

“Can I trust you?”

“Yes, you can trust me.”

The response is almost immediate, not a single second of hesitation on his end. Hers, however, is a different story. Felicity continues to search Oliver’s face, calculating the truth behind his words in comparison to his actions. Her hands slide up his muscled forearms to tenderly wrap around his wrists.

“I want to believe you. I want to trust you not to keep things like this from me again. I do trust you. But this is a lot to take in and I just… I think I need some time to comprehend everything.”

Oliver’s heart sinks in his chest, mind flashing back to all the times he said something similar to whatever girl had occupied his bed that week. Although in this case, he knows Felicity means it. This isn’t a cop out. She isn’t ending things. He has to remind himself of that.

Swallowing hard, Oliver nods his head in understanding. He’s about to pull away but the pressure of Felicity’s grip keeps him in place.

“Hey, we’re going to be fine. This is an obstacle we’re going to push through together and come out stronger for it. One in a line of many, I’m sure. It’s just a lot to get a handle on and I need to make some decisions on the matter that can’t be influenced by your pretty face, okay?”

He can’t help the upward tick of his lips at her attempt to lighten the mood and the small bit of relief that trickles through him at her words.

“Okay. Take all the time you need. I’ll be right here waiting.”

Oliver bends towards Felicity and presses a lingering kiss to her forehead, inhaling the light scent of her shampoo and perfume.

“But not too much time.”

Felicity laughs a little at that, pulling back to look up at him and bringing one of his hands down over her beating heart.

“Just so you know, I really, really care about you, too.”

Their gazes hold for another moment, lingering in this space in the woods, finality ringing in the air around them.

“Walk with me back to the house?”

Oliver nods in response to her request and lets his hand fall from her cheek as they both turn to make their way out of the tree line.

The hand that was resting against Felicity’s chest remains connected with hers as they walk, fingers intertwined and palms pressed tightly against one another all the way to the backdoor of the mansion.

….

The next few days are different to say the least.

Oliver and Felicity don’t go out of their way to avoid each other but there’s a silent understanding that they don’t go out of their way to be with each other either. They see one another at training sessions and usually ride to and from the office together. There’s even a night when Thea insists they all sit down and watch a movie together. Felicity sits between the two siblings on the couch, her hand slipping into Oliver’s within the first five minutes of the film. She’s asleep against his shoulder within thirty minutes but he doesn’t have the heart to move her just then. He catches Thea’s eyes over the blonde’s head at one point and finds a genuine smile on his sister’s face before she diverts her attention back to the movie without comment.

All in all, they still see each other and interact fairly often. It’s just that they don’t spend very much time alone together. Oliver understands why Felicity needs this space. A lot of life changing information was thrown at her in a small amount of time. If anyone should understand the need to process this kind of thing, it’s him. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss her.

Luckily, a break in the clouds comes at the end of the week when Felicity drops by his office around lunchtime on Friday.

“Knock, knock!”

Oliver’s head lifts from the paperwork he’s reading over, a grin spreading across his face as Felicity peaks in through the half-open door.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

She steps into the room, looking beautiful as ever in a navy and pink printed dress, hair free from its usual ponytail. She reaches up to tuck an errant strand behind her ear as she walks to stand in front of his desk.

“I was hoping maybe we could get lunch. If you’re not busy that is. Now that I think about it, I probably should have checked with Barry first before barging in like this. You could have been doing something important. Are you doing something important?”

Oliver chuckles to himself as he quickly puts away the files he was reading through and slips the highlighter he was using back into the canister on his desktop that holds other various writing utensils. Grabbing his phone and wallet and stuffing them in his pockets, Oliver makes his way around the desk towards Felicity.

“Nothing that can’t wait until after lunch. Did you have any place in mind?”

“No. Let’s just take a walk and go with whatever jumps out at us.”

The wide smile on his face is unavoidable. This is the first time in almost a week that she’s sought him out. She’s extending an olive branch and he’s grabbing on like it’s a lifeline.

As they make their way out of Oliver’s office, Diggle steps in line with the pair.

“Afternoon, Mr. Queen.”

“Mr. Diggle.”

The trio makes their way down the elevator and to the lobby. None of them say a word, traveling in a sort of stalemate, unsure of who should say what. More than once Oliver and Felicity’s eyes meet, keeping his grin firmly in place. At one point his eyes meet Digg’s over her head. The older man just rolls his eyes, falling back a step.

Felicity finally breaks the silence once they’re a block or so away from QC.

“So this whole distance thing kind of sucks.”

A huff of relieved laughter escapes Oliver as he looks down at her, view slightly skewed by the loose strands of her golden hair.

“This was your idea, Felicity.”

“I know. But as far as ideas that I’ve had go, this is not one of my finer ones no matter how necessary it was.”

They near simultaneously halt in their steps, angling to face each other.

“So, does this mean that you’ve had time to think this through and figure some things out?”

“It means that I’m getting there. But what I have figured out is that I trust you and I understand your reasoning behind keeping things hidden, no matter how stupid said reasoning may be.”

Oliver opens his mouth to protest but Felicity raises a hand to silence him.

“Not finished yet. I also figured something else out and that something is that I want to help you and Digg.”

“No, Felicity, absolutely not. It’s too dangerous and – “

Felicity cuts him off midsentence.

“More dangerous than having someone out there trying to kill me?”

She’s got him there.

Oliver tries his best to think of a valid reason as to why she shouldn’t be involved in their investigation but comes up empty handed. Felicity knows this too, raising her eyebrows at him in challenge.

“Exactly. You and Digg need me because, and I say this is the most loving way possible, you are an old man when it comes to technology. I know my way around a computer. I can hack encrypted files, break through firewalls, do whatever needs to be done to dig up information on this. Let me help you.”

She reaches out a hand to lay it gently on the inside of his elbow, taking a step closer to Oliver in the process.

“Let me in, Oliver.”

Their gazes stay locked, blue on blue in a silent exchange of words and emotions. A breeze picks up, gently playing with Felicity’s hair. When a strand falls into her face, Oliver automatically reaches up to move it away and tuck it behind her ear. Instead of dropping his hand like he probably should in such a public place, he moves it to cup Felicity’s cheek. Her eyes close briefly at the contact, head tilting into his palm. Both of them release a sigh at the contact.

“Okay.”

He wants to kiss her. God, he wants to kiss her. But now is neither the time nor the place. So instead Oliver reluctantly lets his hand fall and takes a step back while clearing his throat. Felicity looks up at him in confusion, questioning his actions.

“We should keep walking before I do something really stupid.”

Her eyes alight with mirth when the meaning behind his words sinks in. She smirks at him, slightly taunting as her tongue peaks out to wet her bottom lip. He almost lets out an audible groan at the sight. The reactions Felicity draws from him make Oliver feel like a teenager again sometimes.

“Mr. Queen, Ms. Smoak, I’m sorry to interrupt but I think we have a tail.”

Diggle breaks up the moment, his words sending Oliver into high alert mode as his eyes scan the surrounding area. His eyes catch on a man in a blue baseball cap and sunglasses, olive skin, dark hair, probably mid-twenties. He has a camera in hand and it’s pointed at them. Discretion appears to not be a part of this man’s vocabulary.

“I see him. What should we do? Keep walking?”

“Yeah. You and I can flank either side of her until we get to a restaurant.”

Both men immediately fall into position beside Felicity, trying not to draw more attention. The sensation of fingers sliding over the top of his hand pulls Oliver’s notice downwards. Felicity’s hand covers his, squeezing it in reassurance before letting go. The group continues on, both men surreptitiously glancing back at the photographer who doesn’t seem to be getting any closer but continues to snap photos of them.

“There’s an alley up ahead that connects to the street over. I’m going to split off there and double back, get a jump on the guy. You okay with that, Felicity?”

The blonde gives Digg a small smile before nodding.

“Yeah, I’m okay with it. I think Oliver can handle the body watching for a couple minutes. Guarding! Body guarding!”

“I’m sure he can.”

Diggle drops back a step, soundlessly disappearing down the aforementioned alleyway as Oliver and Felicity continue their even pace. They make their way along the sidewalk, nearing a row of restaurants up ahead. A newsstand nearby seems to be garnering an unusual amount of attention and as the pair approaches it, Oliver catches on to a reporter’s voice.

“Linda Park here, reporting to you from the streets of Starling. An interesting development in the case involving businesswoman Karen Smoak and Kord Industries has come to light after this morning’s pretrial conference. It seems that another off shore account, this one holding $6.5 million, has been linked to Ms. Smoak under a false name.”

Felicity stops short beside him. Oliver reaches out to gently place a hand on her lower back, bending down slightly in front of her.

“Felicity, we can turn around. I’ll text Digg right now and tell him we’re heading back if you want me to.”

“Oh, well would you look at that. It must be my lucky day, folks. Mr. Queen! Miss Smoak!”

Both of their heads snap up at the sound of the reporter’s voice. The young Korean woman begins to make her way over followed by her camera crew and a small crowd of paparazzi. Oliver reflexively pulls Felicity closer to him, arm protectively sliding around her waist.

“Oliver, come on. Let’s go.”

The pair turns, attempting to move away from the flashing cameras and growing crowd.

“For all of you at home who don’t know, this is Felicity Smoak, only child of Karen Smoak and her deceased husband. Wait, Ms. Smoak, a moment please!”

Oliver steps in front of Felicity, shielding her from the press with his body.

“Ms. Smoak is very busy and so am I. We both need to get back to our place of work. Now if you’ll excuse us.”

“Mr. Queen!”

The familiar voice floods Oliver relief. Diggle quickly jogs up to them, taking post at Felicity’s other side and raising an arm to warn back the advancing paparazzi.

“Did you get him?”

“Yeah, just some guy trying to make a quick buck by selling pictures to a news outlet. I took the memory drive from him. What the hell is going on here?”

“Reporter on the trial. We need to get out of here.”

A particularly enthusiastic individual gets too close to them, running into Oliver who in turn bumps into Felicity. Oliver turns to glare at the man, causing him to visibly shrink away from them.

“Ms. Smoak, do you have anything to say about the accusations against your mother?”

Digg clears a way, ushering Oliver and Felicity in front of him while attempting to hold off the determined reporter. Oliver scans the surrounding area, eyes locking in on a crosswalk a few feet away. He steers them towards it, hoping to cross the busy street and deter the restless crowd from following.

“Ms. Smoak has no comment to make on the subject at this time and would appreciate it if she were left alone.”

Other paparazzi members join in on the inquiry, hurling questions at the blonde from left and right.

“Will you be testifying for or against your mother?”

“Do you think she’s guilty?”

“Have you benefitted from any of the money that your mother stole?”

“Do you think this has anything to do with the attempts on your life?”

“Are there any leads on who the two shooters might be?”

They’re almost to the crosswalk now but unable to cross the street as town cars and taxicabs whiz by in a swirl of yellow and black. Glancing down, Oliver finds Felicity with her eyes locked ahead of her, stance strong as she attempts to block out the commotion around her. Diggle’s shouting draws Oliver’s attention away from her.

“Hey, man, back off! Give them some space!”

A very persistent paparazzi member steps too close, earning himself a light shove backwards from Diggle. Oliver is about to step in when a yell pulls his notice back over to Felicity.

“Hey! Keep your hands off of me!”

If it weren’t for the ensuing course of actions, Oliver would have happily stepped up and punched the handsy scumbag so hard the baseball cap on his head would fly off. However, he doesn’t get the chance to.

Instead, Oliver watches as Felicity yanks her arm back and out of the man’s grasp. The motion sends her off balance and quickly tumbling backwards. She loses her footing, slipping off of the curb and into the busy street. The sounds of horrified screams, blaring horns, and screeching tires fill his ears and mix with his own voice shouting her name.

Oliver lunges for Felicity, reaching out to grab onto one of her flailing arms at the last second, right as a bright yellow taxicab flies by. The force with which he yanks her back to him is fueled by adrenaline and hard enough that for a second Oliver’s worried he might have dislocated her shoulder. But then she’s in his arms and he can vaguely hear Diggle shouting in the distance for everyone to step back before all the noise around them converges into a low humming sound.

He doesn’t care that they’re in public. He doesn’t care that they are currently surrounded by paparazzi. What he does care about is Felicity and her safety.

Oliver wraps one arm around Felicity’s waist and slides the other up her back, burying his hand in the golden locks at the base of her neck and securing her against him. The world surrounding them is blurred and buzzing, a sharp contrast to Felicity’s harsh intakes of breath and the heavy pounding of her heart that Oliver swears he can feel as she stays pressed against his chest.

“Felicity. Felicity. Felicity.”

Oliver whispers the word against her hair like a litany; fear, relief, worry, tenderness all coming together in a kaleidoscope of emotion. She’s shaking infinitesimally in his embrace, hands fisted in the front of his shirt. It only makes him hold on that much tighter.

“Everybody needs to back up, RIGHT NOW!”

Their surroundings rush back in at Diggle’s loud command, like water pouring out of an aquarium after the glass has been smashed. Oliver pulls back to frame Felicity’s face with his hands, searching her shocked blue eyes before checking her body for any signs of injury. When he finds none, he quickly returns his gaze to hers.

“Are you okay? Did you get hit? Does anything hurt?”

“Yes, no, and no. I’m fine. I’m okay.”

Thankfully, Oliver can see the paparazzi backing off in his peripheral. The commotion must have caught the attention of the two cops who are now helping Diggle hold back the crowd.

“We need to get you out of here.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

Oliver lets his hands fall from Felicity’s face before quickly reaching down to take one of hers in his own. He pulls her close before turning to find Diggle looking on with concern.

“Is she okay? Felicity, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Digg. Just please, get us out of here.”

Felicity tucks herself further into Oliver’s side as he wraps a protective arm around her shoulders. Diggle yells at the crowd and steps in front of the pair, clearing a path as he goes. The police help to keep the curious bystanders back and begin to turn people away, commanding for the crowd to disperse.

“Once we get to QC we head straight for the parking garage, alright? Felicity, you’re not gonna like this but I think it’s in your best interest that I drive you back to the mansion. They’re only going to crowd outside of the building and wait for you there and security is not equipped to handle that.”

“No, Digg, I still have work to do. I’m not about to let these guys keep me from going on with my life.”

Oliver is the one to answer her objection, his eyes pleading with her to see the danger in this situation.

“Felicity, you’re safety comes first. If they crowd Queen Consolidated it can be used as a distraction by whoever is targeting you. Please, just for today. We’ll alert security so they can better be prepared in the future.”

She contemplates what the two men are saying, obviously weighing the pros and cons of the situation. Oliver knows they’ve successfully convinced Felicity when she sighs in defeat.

“Fine. Take me home.”

….

Suffice to say Oliver’s level of productivity is at an all time low for the remainder of the workday. If it were up to him, he would have gone home with Felicity and spent the rest of the day by her side. Sadly there’s work to be done that has to come first. However, that doesn’t stop him from sending Felicity a text to make sure that she and Diggle arrived at the mansion without incident. It also doesn’t stop him from texting Diggle every other hour or so to check up on her.

When he’s finally home for the evening, Oliver doesn’t think twice as he takes the steps two at a time and heads towards Felicity’s room. Diggle is standing guard outside, vigilant and alert. The older man takes one look at Oliver and a small smirk makes its way onto his face.

“Hey, how is she?”

“Man, you are so damn transparent. It’s a wonder no one else has caught on to you.”

Oliver throws a glare in Digg’s direction to which his friend just raises his hands in surrender before quickly continuing on.

“Okay, okay. She’s fine. Got a phone call a couple minutes ago and she’s still on the line.”

Just then, Felicity’s voice raises behind the closed door of her bedroom. Oliver steps forward, knocking twice and pausing until he hears her somewhat annoyed ‘come in’ to enter. Pushing the door open, Oliver finds Felicity with her phone pressed to her ear, pacing back and forth across her bedroom floor.

“Yes, I understand that. But I don’t think you’re understanding me.”

Oliver’s eyes narrow in confusion, brow furrowed as he comes to a stop in front of the seemingly frustrated blonde. She holds up a finger, asking him to give her a second, before gesturing towards the bed in what Oliver assumes is a command for him to take a seat.

“I get that. Yes. Okay but I don’t know why she thinks that would be a good idea. She was rarely around so I don’t really have anything to say.”

Felicity is becoming increasingly more agitated the longer she listens to the person on the other end. Oliver can tell because her pacing becomes louder and more frequent. To prevent her from wearing a hole in the carpet, he reaches out and takes her hand in his. Felicity turns to look at him and Oliver questioningly tilts his head to the side. She covers the bottom of the phone so that whomever she’s talking to can’t hear her quick explanation.

“My mother’s lawyer.”

His eyes widen in shock, eyebrows raised. From what he’s witnessed, Karen Smoak is a sensitive subject for Felicity. And that is saying something considering some of the things that come out of her mouth on a daily basis.

“She actually said that? … Really?”

Her voice softens as she says the last part and Oliver can visibly see the anger fading from her being. He gently tugs her closer and begins to massage small, soothing circles over the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Okay. I do want to help her. I do. It’s just… we’ve never been extremely close. I don’t know what I could say to aid her case… I’ll think about. Oh and can you, can you tell her I’m sorry I missed her phone call on my birthday? …Thank you. Bye.”

Felicity lets out a long exhale as she taps on the screen and hangs up the phone. Neither of them says anything for a moment, Felicity staring at her phone and Oliver staring at Felicity. Then in an unnaturally calm maneuver, she slowly reaches to place the phone on her bed.

“They want me to witness on my mother’s behalf.”

His immediate reaction is to protest. Putting Felicity up on that stand would be calling even more attention to her. They can’t risk it. However, Oliver reminds himself of what happened the last time he made a decision in regards to Felicity’s safety without consulting her. In fact, he’s still feeling the affects of it, not sure whether she would be open to him physically comforting her or not. So instead, he simply asks her about it.

“And you said you would consider it?”

Felicity slowly nods, moving to sit beside Oliver on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah. If you think about it, me being a witness might actually be a good thing. If we can prove that Bertinelli was involved and that he’s the reason my life is in danger… Maybe it can finally stop. I’ll be safe.”

“Felicity, we don’t have enough information yet and putting you up on that stand would expose you, paint a target on your back.”

“You mean a target bigger than the one that’s already there?”

Oliver is reluctant to admit that maybe, just maybe this idea has some merit.

“Say we go through with this. You, me, and Digg, we find enough evidence and you bare witness to it in court. Then what? Felicity, you’ll have to go back and testify in the trial against Bertinelli too.”

Felicity squares off to face Oliver, making sure to look him in the eye.

“So I’ll testify. What else were you going to do, Oliver? Just hand the evidence over in a manila folder and hope the police do the rest? You know it doesn’t work that way.”

Oliver looks away, wanting to put up more of a fight but knowing she’s right. However, she isn’t having any of that. Felicity’s hand slips into Oliver’s, drawing his attention back to her, conveying with her gaze the seriousness of her decision.

“She’s my mother. Maybe not the best one out there, but she’s still my mother. And yeah I’m not really sure how much good what I have to say will do for her, but she needs my support. We don’t have any other family. My dad’s side stopped reaching out when she pushed them away after he died and her parents are in a nursing home in Southern California. I just… She’s going to jail, Oliver. If I can do something to help her, I want to. If it were Moira or Thea up on that stand, you would do the same.”

She’s right. Of course she is. There are very few things that Felicity Smoak is wrong about in life and this is not one of them. Because if it were Thea or Moira, hell even Robert, being prosecuted, he would be there for them.

“You’re right, as usual. I know there’s nothing I can say or do to change your mind so I’m not going to try. I do, however, have a request.”

“Okay. I’m listening.”

“Take Digg and I with you when you go.”

Felicity smiles up at Oliver, light and warmth flooding into her eyes as she realizes that this isn’t something she’ll have to fight him on. She has his full support in the matter despite his initial reluctance.

“Deal. Now can you come here? I missed you.”

With that, Felicity places a hand on Oliver’s chest and lightly pushes him onto his back, swinging one of her legs over his waist to straddle him before leaning down to press a hungry kiss against his mouth.

That’s the moment Oliver knows that they’ll be okay. After everything that has happened this past week, they’ve come back together. Felicity was right, they pushed through and they’re stronger for it. He can feel it in the way they kiss, the way she fits against him so perfectly, in the way her lips whisper against his own that reply with just as much vigor and enthusiasm.

He can also feel it within himself. Without realizing it, Felicity has broken through another one of Oliver’s walls. Not telling her about Bertinelli kept her away, kept her from burrowing deeper into his being. But now she’s that much closer and he really doesn’t mind. In fact, Oliver finds it relieving, liberating even. There’s no doubt in his mind that if she sticks with him long enough, Felicity will burst through each and every wall he’s built and maybe even replace the darkness behind them with light.

It’s also the moment Oliver Queen realizes he’s falling in love with Felicity Smoak, if he hasn’t already.

Chapter Text

Felicity's outfit: here

....

“Oliver, is the blindfold really necessary? Also, how did you manage to convince Digg to stay in the car?”

“Yes and this place is one of the most secure in the city. Why? Don’t you trust me?”

“What if you get distracted and I run into a wall? Or fall into a manhole?”

Oliver chuckles at the temporarily visionless blonde standing in front of him, hands gently clasping the tops of her arms in preparation to guide her once the elevator comes to a stop.

“Well for one thing, there are no manholes where we’re going.”

Just then there’s a light ping from above their heads, signaling that they’ve arrived as the doors slide open to reveal a luxurious penthouse. It’s the same penthouse, in fact, that Oliver and Tommy had visited a week prior. While he and Felicity were on break, Oliver had filled his time with anything that would distract him and keep him from going to her, including apartment hunting. Each time he found himself comparing the new place he was looking at to this one and coming up short.

“Where are we? Why does it smell like fresh paint and cleaning products?”

“Would you just let me surprise you?”

Oliver takes a step forward, forcing Felicity to take a step of her own. He begins to guide her into the penthouse, her wedge-heeled shoes emitting a dull thud against the hardwood floor as they travel down the hallway and into the main living area.

“Never was one for surprises. I like knowing things, if you haven’t noticed.”

“It has not escaped my attention. I’m going to let go for a second, stay here.”

Felicity calls out to Oliver as he makes his way over to the light switch on the wall, flicking on the overhead lights to mingle with the rays of the bright afternoon sun flooding in through the wall of windows.

“Yes, because I was fully intending on wandering around an unfamiliar place while blindfolded.”

Oliver rolls his eyes before crossing back over to stand in front of Felicity, hands reaching up to gently grasp at the edges of the blindfold.

“Since you have been so patient, I’m going to take of the blindfold in 3… 2… – “

“Oh for God’s sake, Oliver, just let me see where you’ve dragged me off to and – why are we in an empty apartment?”

Her eyes sweep the empty living area before bouncing over towards the kitchen, then finally landing back on Oliver. If she hasn’t spoken it aloud, the question of where they are would be clearly conveyed in Felicity’s gaze. Instead of replying right away, Oliver takes her by the hand, tugging her further into the penthouse as nerves start to make their presence known throughout his system.

“Well, it’s not just any empty apartment. It’s my empty apartment.”

Oliver carefully studies her reaction, for some reason desperately wanting to know what she thinks of the place. Felicity takes a few steps to the left, walking just within the entryway of the kitchen before turning back around to face him, a smile steadily growing on her face.

“You bought a penthouse?”

“Yeah, I did. Just paid the first down payment this morning. Do you, uh, want to look around?”

Her excited nod and bright smile are all the permission Oliver needs to take her hand in his and guide her through the main floor of his new crash pad.

First they walk through the kitchen, granite counter tops and white cupboards greeting them as they begin their tour. Felicity ooh’s over the double ovens and ample countertop space for a reason that flies right over Oliver’s head, but it makes her happy and therefore he approves of it one-hundred percent. They don’t spend much time in the living and dining rooms; just open space at the moment with a gas fireplace in one and a classic chandelier hanging in the other. Next, Oliver guides them towards the bedroom area. The hallway is decently sized, larger than that of a normal apartment he’s sure. Two doors lie on the right side, a bedroom and laundry room, and three on the other, a bathroom and an office as well as another guest bedroom. Straight down the hall is a pair of double doors that lead to the master suite.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re the only one moving in here, right?”

For a moment, the image of Felicity lounging next to him on a sofa in the living room invades Oliver’s thoughts. It’s so easy to picture the two of them together after a long day at work, unwinding with various takeout boxes scattered across a coffee table and maybe a nice bottle of wine. While she wasn’t much of a drinker, in part due to her age, Oliver had caught on to Felicity’s appreciation of red wine during various family dinners since his return. She never had more than a glass but the way she would sip and savor the deep red liquid, eyes falling shut for a moment as it slid down the back of her throat, was more than enough to clue him in on her enjoyment.

Oliver shakes his head to dispel the image, glancing down to find the woman he was just contemplating with an expectant look in place.

“No, yes, I mean, you’re right. It’s just me moving in here. But you never know who’s going to need a place to spend the night.”

“Seems a little bit much for me, but hey if you have the money why not?”

“Right. Come on, let me show you the rooms.”

There’s not much to see in the guest bedrooms and others rooms that line the walls either, but they briefly walk through them anyway. Felicity suggests different uses for the extra rooms – a gym, an office, a guest bedroom – and happily points out the number of outlets in each. It doesn’t surprise Oliver in the least that his tech-savvy girlfriend, the word still sounds somewhat trite to him, would focus on the electrical aspects of his new place of living. He makes note of the room with the maximum amount of outlets. That will be his office as much as hers if he has anything to say about it.

“And here is the master bedroom.”

“Holy crap, Oliver! This is the size of a normal person’s apartment! We could fit a whole family in here!”

The combination of “we” in reference to him and Felicity and “family” sends Oliver’s mind spinning into dangerous territory; territory that involves him, Felicity, and two small children with curly hair and bright blue eyes. Never has Oliver even remotely considered that kind of future for himself and in all honesty it’s just as terrifying as it is exhilarating.

Tugging lightly on her hand, Oliver pulls Felicity into him, sliding his unoccupied arm around her waist and slipping his hand beneath the loose, bright yellow fabric of her blouse to splay across the bare skin above her hipbone.

“What do you think?”

Felicity smiles up at him, hands traveling upwards to lock together behind his neck and pull herself closer.

“It’s perfect, Oliver. Although it’s your place so I don’t really see why you need my opinion on it.”

Oliver adjusts his hold on Felicity so that each of his hands are gripping either side of her waist beneath her shirt, squeezing lightly before loosening to hold on with the barest of pressures.

“Well, I figure that you and I will be spending a lot of time here so…”

Oliver trails off, allowing the implications to hang in the space between them; the rapidly decreasing space.

“Is that so? And just what do you think will have us spending so much time here, Mr. Queen?”

Damn, does he find it attractive when she calls him that.

Taking a step forward, Oliver forces Felicity back with slow, deliberate steps until her back gently but firmly hits the bedroom wall. He leans down, skipping straight over her mouth to press a kiss against the pale column of her neck. Felicity’s reaction is instantaneous, body jumping slightly against his and causing him to grin against her skin. After the brief interruption, Oliver’s lips return to their task, peppering gentle kisses along her neck and jawline before traveling over her cheek to hover just above her own. Both Felicity’s breathing and his have picked up pace at this point, warms puffs of air intermingling in the minute space between their mouths.

Their eyes lock and Oliver’s body floods with heat at Felicity’s heavy-lidded gaze. Her pupils are blown wide with desire, appearing a dark stormy blue, and her tongue peeks out to wet her lips in anticipation. With a groan, Oliver crashes his mouth to hers, barely giving Felicity enough time to match his ferocity before his own tongue darts out to lick at her lips and beg for entrance.

The kiss is relentless, passionate as teeth clash and hands wander. Oliver’s come to rest on the curve of her ass, giving a firm squeeze to signal his intent before hoisting Felicity further up the wall. Her legs wrap around his waist, pulling their lower bodies tight against each other. Their lips part in near soundless gasps at the contact before pressing back furiously against one another, continuing the kiss.

Oliver’s lungs begin to burn with the need for oxygen and he imagines that Felicity’s must be in similar form. Reluctantly, his lips detach from hers, moving to shower her neck with tiny kisses in an attempt to help them both catch their breath. When his panting is at a slightly more controllable level, Oliver leans forward to whisper in Felicity’s ear.

“Have I made myself clear? Or do I need to elaborate on the subject?”

It takes Felicity a moment to compose herself enough to respond, a fact that fills Oliver with satisfaction and a hint of pride. When she finally does answer him, her voice is low and breathy, a whisper just brushing against his jaw.

“You might need to be a little more specific.”

Her hips grind down on his at the word ‘specific’, causing Oliver’s grip on them to tighten as he releases a low growl from the back of his throat. Felicity gasps out a laugh before using her arms locked around his neck to pull her further up his body and repeat the motion. This time both Felicity and Oliver let out an audible groan, continuing to move against each other in small, rocking motions. Their synchronized moans become a staccato of pants and hums, mouths close but not quite pressed against one another as they hang open in a silent declaration of need.

“I want you, Oliver.”

“Fuck.”

It’s the first time that Felicity has expressed her desire for Oliver in words and it sets his whole body ablaze. His hands slide beneath the hem of her shirt, skimming along the smooth expanse of her lower back, blunt nails digging in when she gives a particularly enthusiastic twist of her hips.

What little blood is left in Oliver’s head works to keep him aware of their surroundings. This is neither the time nor the place for the things that he wants to do to Felicity right now and they need to come back down from this high they’re on before things get more out of hand.

Thankfully, the shrill ringing of a phone interrupts their grinding, further assisting Oliver in his battle for control.

“That’s – “ Felicity pauses to catch her breath before continuing. “That’s probably Digg wondering what we’re doing. We should go.”

Oliver let's his head fall against her shoulder, heavy breaths warming the already heated skin above her collarbone. This unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, gives him a spectacular view of Felicity's cleavage through the small triangular opening in her top. His cock twitches at the sight of her chest rising and falling with her rapid intake of breath. Oliver's eyes slam shut as he musters up the strength to move away from her. With one hand on the wall and the other grabbing onto her thigh, he pushes himself back, gently squeezing her leg in a silent signal to lower it so that they can separate from one another.

"Wow, okay.... "

Felicity runs a hand over her ponytail to smooth it out and then tugs at the hem of her shorts to situate them back down from where they've ridden up her thighs.

"Yeah that was..."

Oliver trails off at a complete loss for words. You would think that as a grown man making out like a bunch of teenagers would lack such an appeal. Hell, he did a lot more thank making out when he was a teenager. Truthfully, it's not the act itself that gets his blood pumping and heart racing rather it's the fact that he's doing it with Felicity. She has a way of making everything in his life a bit more exciting, brings an energy of lightheartedness that he was so miserably lacking before.

The phone rings again and Oliver hastens to answer it so as not to make Diggle suspicious.

“Hey, Digg. We’re coming right now.”

“I don’t need the gory details. Just remember that we have a training session to work in before you get to sit down for a lovely family dinner in a few hours.”

Oliver lets out a groan, very different in tone from the pleasure-filled ones of a few minutes back.

“Right. Okay we’re heading down now. Meet you in the parking garage.”

He hangs up, not waiting for an answer, and turns to face Felicity. Her gaze is questioning, head tilted to the side in that adorable way she does. He can’t resist bending forward to press a quick peck to her lips.

“We have dinner with the family tonight.”

Felicity rolls her eyes, picking up her purse that had been unceremoniously dumped onto the floor at some point during their passionate exchange before heading out alongside Oliver towards the main living area.

“It’s just dinner with the family, Oliver. Try not to act like you’re the main course.”

Quickly flicking off the lights, he joins Felicity by the elevator, ushering her inside with a hand on her lower back and reaching over to press the button that will take them to the garage. There’s a slight pressure on his shoulder as Felicity rests a hand on it, bright pink nails catching Oliver’s notice from the corner of his eye. She rises up on her tiptoes, lips coming just shy of his ear as she whispers to him in a sweet, seductive tone that goes straight to his groin.

“Plus, I can promise you dessert will be well worth it.”

Oliver’s head falls back against the wall with a thud and a groan, Felicity’s laughter tinkling from the space beside him at his reaction.

Lord, help his soul. She’s going to kill him.

….

She’s nervous. He can tell that just from looking at her. But aside from that he can also see that she’s determined. The object in her hands is foreign and unfamiliar but he watches as she studies it intently, weighing it in the palm of her hand.

“Okay, so this here if your safety. Keep it on until you’re willing to shoot. It prevents the gun from going off but you should never under any circumstances aim it at someone unless you’re prepared to shoot them. Got it?”

Felicity nods her head in understanding, still studying the gun in her hands.

“Safety on. No pointing the scary weapon at the other kids. Got it.”

Diggle steps beside her and points to a small, almost completely see through piece on the top of the gun.

“This here is your sight. It’s going to give you a rough estimate of where the bullet will go, so long as you hold steady on the kick back. But make sure not to lock your elbows otherwise it’s gonna hurt.”

“Right. Okay.”

It’s been roughly three weeks since Diggle and Oliver started her training and at Felicity’s request they agreed to teach her how to shoot a gun. Most of what Diggle is telling her now is reiteration; they briefed her before even putting the gun in her hands. They had also gone over the various parts and functions, even showed her how to unload and reload the empty magazine. All that was left was the actual shooting part.

“I’ll fire off a couple of rounds so you can get used to the sound and get a better visual on what your stance should look like. Take a few steps back so the casings don’t hit you.”

Felicity does as she’s told, walking a few feet away to avoid the ricochet of smoldering bullet casings that are sure to come with Digg’s firing of the gun.

They’re on the edge of the property, having gone through the gardens and down further to the open expanses of the yard. Nothing surrounds them save for the tree line far off on one side and the ocean away in the distance. It’s hot out, the sweltering summer sun beating down on their backs, disrupted occasionally by a light breeze. About a hundred feet away sits a makeshift target; a cardboard box with a target drawn on it, courtesy of Felicity’s handiwork, sitting on top of a wooden fence post.

Diggle aims the gun and takes a calming breath before firing. The gunshot rings loud and clear through the air around them, causing Felicity to flinch infinitesimally in surprise. Oliver is used to it, unfazed by the volume. However, his hands clench and teeth grit as his mind flashes to the images that often haunt his sleep. He doesn’t realize that his eyes are closed until there’s a soft hand covering his and an even softer voice speaking to him in a low tone.

“Oliver, hey, look at me.”

His eyes open to find Felicity standing in front of him, concerned expression on her face.

“You okay?”

“Yeah it’s just…”

Oliver trails off. How is he supposed to explain that it’s not the gunshot that frightens him, but the image of Felicity on the ground and bleeding out as he stands helpless and unable to save her? If anything it would only serve to frighten her further because if he, a trained war veteran, is afraid of such things, then why shouldn’t she be?

“Nightmares. I get it. You don’t have to be here if it’s too much.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m okay now.”

They’re cut off by a rapid succession of shots as Digg empties the rest of the magazine into the box, hitting near perfect every time. Felicity steps back over to Diggle once he gives the all clear and Oliver vaguely hears the older man instruct her to reload the gun and take position. He adjusts her stance here and there before nodding his consent for Felicity to take aim. She does as instructed, gaze locking in on the target through the sight on the top of the gun. Diggle takes a few steps back, clearing away from where the casings should fly then raises his voice so that she can hear him.

“Okay, Felicity, one shot when you’re ready. Then we’ll see what needs adjusting. Got it?”

“Got it!”

There’s a beat of silence, any wildlife that had been close by before now is long gone after Digg’s round. Felicity takes a moment to collect herself, chest rising and falling as she breathes deeply. Then she pulls the trigger.

The shot goes off and while it’s clear Felicity listened to Diggle’s instructions on the kick back, she goes with the movement a little too early, anticipating it. Oliver moves to check where the bullet hit and finds that it just grazed the top of the box. He suspected as much.

“Top edge of the box. Try aiming a little lower and don’t anticipate the kick.”

They go through a couple more rounds like that, Felicity firing off shots and either Digg or Oliver giving her feedback. By the time they call it a day she’s able to at least hit the target with every bullet in the magazine. Her aim could still use a lot of work but at least she’s hitting the box.

“Not bad. You’re still anticipating the kick at times but you’re hitting the target, which is all we really need. Chances are if you’re faced with a situation where using a gun is your only option, the target is going to be moving or at least possess the ability to do so. The same concept applies there that does to the box. Aim for the center, pull the trigger.”

“Right. Just aim and shoot and possibly end someone’s life. Simple.”

The reluctance in her voice is obvious and Oliver takes note of the slightly paler tint to her skin. He steps up and rests a hand on Felicity’s shoulder; thumb stroking along her collarbone in a soothing gesture.

“Hey. The chances of you delivering a fatal blow on accident like that are slim, more likely than not the bullet will hit a limb and cause a lot of blood loss but not kill on impact.”

Felicity nods her head in acknowledgement but Oliver can see that her mind is going in a million different directions.

“Did you… I mean have you… Never mind. You probably don’t want to talk about it.”

Oliver knows exactly what she was going to ask and he contemplates it before answering honestly.

“I did what I had to do to survive.”

“And no one would blame you for it.”

Sincerity shines bright in her eyes as Felicity says the words, holding his gaze so he knows she means it. The knowledge that he’s killed does nothing to diminish her faith in him and he wonders if things would be the same were he to tell her everything.

A small kick to his foot draws Oliver out of his musings as Felicity tilts her head towards the general area of the mansion.

“Let’s go get ready for dinner.”

He and Diggle quickly go about clearing away the remnants of their target practice, carefully kicking empty casings onto the tarp they put down before gathering it up to bring back with them and dispose of. As the trios makes their way towards the house, Diggle starts up the conversation by addressing Felicity.

"So, you make any progress on your mother's case?"

For a moment, Oliver is startled by the question.

It shouldn't surprise him that Diggle knows about Felicity’s desire to help them find a connection between Karen and Bertinelli, but it does. Oliver knows they talk and that his friend has formed a sort of protective, big brother relationship with Felicity over the past month but she only expressed her desire to help them in their search two days ago. Oliver himself hasn’t even had time to bring it up with Diggle.

The fact that Felicity and Digg seem to be getting along so well sparks hope in his chest that maybe, just maybe his two worlds don’t need to be so separated after all.

"Right now I'm just gathering information. Trying to organize everything we know about the evidence for the trial and my mother's interaction with Bertinelli's associates. Then I'll start searching for off shore accounts and transactions."

"Good. Anything we can do to help?"

Felicity shakes her head before replying to Digg.

“Nothing you haven’t done already. This is mostly just me playing catch up and double-checking what you have now. Once I’ve gone through the information a couple times I should be able to find some sort of common factor that I can use as a starting point.”

“Digg and I have checked through everything. We couldn’t pinpoint a common denominator.”

Felicity throws Oliver a near-affronted look at that comment, as if he had personally insulted her.

“You should know better then to doubt my skills with a computer. You two look at this like a plan of attack, searching out an enemy strategy that you won’t find. This isn’t aggressive warfare, it’s silent and shady and all about the numbers. Lucky for you numbers and acclaimed military strength firewalls are my specialty.”

 When both Digg and Oliver side eye her, Felicity ducks her head in an attempt to hide a proud little smile. It’s damn near the cutest thing Oliver’s ever seen and if they were alone right now he would probably give into this ridiculous, overwhelming urge he has to throw Felicity over his shoulder and carry her all the way back just to hear her laugh.

But as reality stands they are in fact in the presence of a third party and even though said third party has expressed no ill will towards Oliver and his relationship with Felicity, he figures it best to just continue walking as they are now. The conversation strays from one thing to the next; training, security details, this running bet Digg and Felicity apparently have about her supervisor. Before Oliver realizes it they’re in the mansion and headed their separate ways to get ready for dinner. Diggle leaves the couple quickly and with a small nod of his head, heading down the hall to the guest bedroom that is permanently made up for him.

“So I’ll see you at dinner?”

Of course he will. They both live here. They were both included in the term “family dinner”.  Oliver could very nearly kick himself for the sheer stupidity in that question.

“Yes, you will. And I believe there was talk of dessert, too.”

So she hasn’t forgotten about her little comment either. Good. Neither has he.

“I’m holding you to that.”

“Good.”

Felicity quickly glances down either side of the hall, Oliver presumes to check if anyone else is nearby, before wrapping a hand around his neck and pulling him down to press a slow kiss against his mouth.

“See you at dinner.”

Then she’s halfway down the hall in what seems like less than a heartbeat and Oliver is left wandering into his room, slightly dazed from their kiss. He carelessly peals off layers of clothing as he makes his way towards the larger-than-necessary bathroom, in need of a shower for more reasons than just the blistering heat outside.

Not five minutes into his shower, Oliver feels a presence in the room. He has his back to the frosted glass door but doesn’t turn, not wanting to alert the intruder of his notice. That is until the individual speaks. Then he stays as he is for entirely different motives.

“Oliver, can I…”

She sounds nervous and he can understand why. But he also desperately wants her to finish that sentence, a thrill going through him just at the thought of what she might say. When Felicity speaks again, her voice is clear and collected, sure of what she wants.

“Can I join you?”

“God, yes.”

Well that didn’t sound eager at all. Embarrassingly enough, Oliver’s pretty sure he hears Felicity’s laughter mingled with the sound of rustling clothes. The tempting harmony overwhelms his senses with a delicious heat that he’s become all too familiar with these past few weeks. Then the door is opening, accompanied by a rush of cool air that elicits goose bumps all over his body and the sound of small feet lightly coming down on the wet tile floor.

“You can look. I certainly am. I mean… I, uh… Yeah, no, that’s exactly what I mean. We’re both naked and in the shower together. If there were ever an appropriate circumstance for my inappropriate slips of the tongue, this would be it.”

Truth be told, Oliver didn’t even realize that he was still facing away with eyes screwed shut until Felicity commented on it. Taking a deep breath, he pivots in the spacious shower stall and to get his first uninhibited look at Felicity.

It takes his breath away.

His eyes jump around at first, quickly scanning her body in a fit of sensory overload. Certain places hold his attention longer than others; the slope of her neck that he knows is extra sensitive in places, her small rounded breasts and the valley between them, the tattoo just above her hipbone, a birthmark on her outer thigh, her legs that seem to go on for miles, the unexpectedly small amount of hair covering her sex. Felicity shifts her stance when his gaze falls on that last one, crossing one foot in front of the other and squeezing her thighs together. The nervous movement brings Oliver out of his trance, eyes quickly snapping up to meet Felicity’s. A beautiful pink blush adorns her face as he catches Felicity surveying his body in a manner similar to what he was doing a few seconds ago.

“You don’t need to be nervous.”

“I know I just… it’s silly. Never mind.”

Oliver takes a step towards her and slowly reaches out to cup the side of her neck, jaw cradled between his thumb and forefinger.

“Has anyone ever seen you like this?”

He’s a little unsure if he wants to know the answer to that question, the thought of anyone else seeing Felicity like this sending a burst of jealousy through Oliver.

“Yes, well no, not exactly. It was dark.”

“You have nothing to worry about. You’re beautiful, Felicity.”

Using the hand gently cradling her jaw, Oliver brings her lips to his in a tender kiss.  It starts out slow and deep, tongues stroking against each other for a taste and noses bumping against one another as they push closer. Their bodies eagerly press together under the warm spray of the shower. The running water leads to skin sliding against skin as hands wander over rib cages, muscled backs, taut stomachs, smooth hips.

Oliver has a lot of experience with this kind of thing, but something he didn’t realize until Felicity is how much of an ass man he is, specifically for Felicity’s. As his hands slide down her naked back and over the smooth, uninterrupted curve of her bottom, Oliver releases a needy groan against her mouth. The soft flesh gives and takes deliciously under his hands as he kneads it before pulling her against his rapidly hardening length. Felicity moans and mewls in response, pressing herself further against him.

“God, this is so hot!”

Her exclamation causes Oliver to chuckle against her skin as he separates his mouth from hers, in desperate need of air.

“I’m just getting started.”

Oliver turns them around, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses to Felicity’s neck as he walks her backward through the spray of water and further still until she’s pressed against the slick tile wall. She gasps above him when one of his hands travels between her legs to cup her center.

“Oliver!”

“Jesus, Felicity. You’re so wet already.”

“Well we are in a shower so – oh, OH!”

The movement of Oliver’s mouth traveling down the valley of her breasts and over to take her sensitive peak in his mouth causes Felicity to shout, effectively cutting off her smartass remark. His hand travels from her center to grab onto her waist in an effort to steady the movement of her hips and keep her from slipping down the tile wall. Felicity’s hands move from Oliver’s shoulders to his hair, securing his mouth against her in a frantic search for more.

“Felicity… Felicity, can I taste you?”

“Yes!”

She doesn’t need to say anymore than that.

Oliver is down on his knees the next second, lips traveling over Felicity’s soft stomach, pausing to suck at the skin above her hipbone where her tattoo resides. Her hips lift off the shower wall of their own accord and Oliver brings both his hands to secure them back against the tiled surface. He kisses a path inwards, along the crease of her leg until the stubble on his cheek rubs against the inside of her thigh, slick with a mixture of water from the showerhead above and her own arousal. Experimentally, Oliver runs his tongue along the juncture where Felicity’s womanhood meets her thigh. He’s delighted by the response he gets as she writhes against the wall and widens her stance in an invitation for more.

“Please, please, please!”

Far be it for him to deny Felicity anything that she wants.

Moving his mouth directly over her, Oliver licks Felicity from the base of her slit up to her clit, eyes locked on hers the entire time. Her low moans and heavy panting egg him on, the muscles beneath his tongue twitching at the pleasurable contact. He gives her cunt a slow, open-mouthed kiss, mimicking the one that started this whole thing a few minutes ago. Her taste is sweet and a little tangy as his tongue peaks out to lap at her juices. Felicity’s eyes slam shut, her nails grabbing on and digging into Oliver’s shoulders.

“Fuck! Oh my God, Oliver….”

Her exclamations are just on the side of too loud and for a moment he worries that someone will hear them.

“You need to be a little quieter for me, baby. Can you do that?”

Felicity nods her head in an overzealous agreement before sliding her hands up from Oliver’s shoulders and into his hair, anxiously tugging at the strands.

“Just please don’t stop.”

“Never.”

With that small promise, Oliver leans back in. This time his mouth goes directly to her clit, sucking on it with enough pressure to send tremors through her body. Felicity slides down the wall a little and Oliver adjusts his hold so that both his arms hook under her legs for support. The new position opens her further, giving him easier access to her dripping cunt. The sight of it makes Oliver painfully aware of just how turned on he is. But this is about Felicity and her pleasure alone. No one’s ever done this to her and he will be damned is he doesn’t make her see stars by the time it’s all said and done.

With that in mind, Oliver doubles his efforts, moving to her glistening slit. His tongue slides through the folds, seeking out her entrance. A shaky moan escapes Felicity’s mouth when his tongue dips inside and her hips tilt with his ministrations to give him better access to her core. Oliver’s hands roughly knead the muscle of her thighs encouragingly as he fucks her with his mouth, nose pressing against her clit in the process.

“Oliver, Oliver!”

His name leaves her mouth like a holy mantra, a prayer called out to whoever will answer it. In this case that would be him.

Oliver unwraps one of his arms and brings his hand to her center, dipping one finger then two inside to coat them with her slickness. A dull thud from above has him quickly looking up to check on Felicity as one of her hands leaves his hair to rub at a spot on the back of her head. She must have hit it against the tile wall.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Please don’t stop.”

With a deep, rumbling chuckle, Oliver returns to the task at hand. His mouth finds her sensitive bundle of nerves to press a deep kiss against it while his fingers travel further down to her entrance. He begins to pump them inside of her while sucking on her clit, building back up to the rhythm they had going before the interruption. Soon enough, Felicity is releasing small mewling noises interspersed with open-mouthed gasps and desperate moans that somewhat resemble his name. She gives a forceful jerk of her hips after he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside her, causing Oliver to grin against her.

He can feel the build up coming to a crescendo inside of Felicity. The muscles low in her belly pull tighter under the hand he’s using to keep her standing. Her thighs begin to quiver uncontrollably not knowing whether to stay open or close around his head in her body’s search for more. Oliver doubles his efforts, determined more now so than ever to give her this release.

“Oliver, I’m…”

“Yeah, baby, let go for me.”

But he can see that Felicity’s not quite there yet. She’s on the edge, so close to tumbling down and falling apart under his ministrations. All she needs is a little push.

Oliver continues the in and out motion of his fingers but pauses the attention he was giving her with his mouth to look up at Felicity. Her head is thrown back, exposing the pale expanse of her neck, eyes tightly shut in ecstasy.

“Felicity, look at me. I want you to watch me.”

She struggles for a second, still squirming and panting as his fingers curl inside of her and hit that spot again.

“I can’t. Oliver, please!”

“Look at me. I want to see your face when I make you come.”

The second her hooded eyelids slide open enough for their gazes to meet; Oliver takes Felicity’s clit into his mouth and hums. The vibrations prove to be her tipping point as she cries out for him.

“Oliver! Oh! Oliver!”

He continues to suck and lick and nip at Felicity's oversensitive nub as she writhes and jerks against the wall, easing her through the pleasure-filled waves of her orgasm. Her legs turn to jello by the end of it, no longer able to support her own body weight, and Oliver assists in easing Felicity to the shower floor. Slipping behind her to lean against the wall, he draws her into his lap, still able to feel the small tremors of aftershock flowing through her.

They stay like that for a few moments as Felicity catches her breathe, panting against Oliver’s neck. He presses an occasional kiss to her hair, neck, cheek, shoulder, whatever is within reach and lightly strokes up and down the column of her spine.

“Wow, I… Wow.”

A proud smirk breaks out across Oliver’s face, one he can’t contain no matter how hard he tries.

“Did I just render Felicity Smoak speechless? Do I get some kind of award for that?”

“No, but you do deserve some kind of award for your tongue because WOW.”

Oliver’s shoulders shake with silent laughter, which quickly becomes audible as Felicity joins in with him. The movement, of course, causes her still naked body to press against him, effectively reminding Oliver of his still painfully hard state.

“Come on let’s get washed up before people start looking for us.”

Felicity quirks her head to the side, hand coming to rest over his chest before slowly making its way down his chest as she speaks.

“But don’t you want to…”

Oliver catches her wrist in his hand before it can reach past his navel.

“Not right now. This one was all about you. Plus, we have a dinner to get to.”

“Are you sure? It doesn’t hurt or anything, right?”

Her obvious concern is endearing and Oliver reaches out to cup both her cheeks in the palms of his hands, pressing a gentle kiss to her mouth.

“I’ll be fine. Now come on, time to clean up.”

Oliver stands up off the floor before offering Felicity a hand. She accepts it, allowing him to pull her up and beneath the spray of the water as he reaches for the body wash with his other hand.

“Oh and just so you know, if you ever call me ‘baby’ outside of… that, I will make your life a never-ending string of ill-timed ‘old man’ comments.”

Oliver releases a good-humored groan before ducking down to buss the tip of her nose.

"Wouldn't be you if you didn't."

….

The sound of silverware scraping against fine china and wine being poured into crystal glasses fills the cool night air. Oliver’s family sits gathered around the dining table on the back porch off of the main kitchen. Moira had decided since it was such a lovely night out that they should have a more relaxed dinner this evening.

"So, Oliver, Jeanine told me you signed for the penthouse she showed you. That's great, darling!"

Oliver refrains from bringing the bite of tender steak he just sliced to his mouth in order to answer his mother's question.

"Yeah, it's a great place. The location is favorable and the security is better than almost anything else you'll find in the city."

"The view is really nice too."

Both Oliver and Felicity pause their intake of food at her slip.

"Oh, Felicity, you've been there?

Sitting side by side, the pair attempts not to look at one another for fear of giving them away. Oliver nudges her thigh under the table with his own in a silent plea for her to do something. His excuses are shit and he knows it.

"Oh, no. Oliver just mentioned it the other day and I took it upon myself to do a little research. You know, I figured it would be good to have a female's opinion on it. The pictures I found showcased a great cityscape."

That was... actually not too shabby. Oliver's hand slips under the table, landing over her thigh to give it a supportive squeeze.

"Really? Because Oliver didn't say anything to me about - Ow!"

"Thea, sweetheart, are you alright?"

Oliver covers his smirk by taking a bite of his steak while his sister glares at him from across the table for kicking her.

"I'm fine. Just bugs or something. Really annoying, stubborn bugs who insist on ganging up on me."

Moira's eyes bounce back and forth between her children, trying to decipher what is going on. After some quick deliberation she only sighs, shaking her head while taking a bite of her salad.

"So when is the move in date, son?"

"Whenever I want to. I was thinking sometime this week maybe. Things are running pretty smoothly with Applied Sciences and DefenseTech so I figure now is as good a time as any."

Robert nods his head, an almost proud smile making its way to his face.

"That's good to hear. We want only positive things to talk about with the investors and higher ups at DefenseTech on Thursday."

"Thursday?"

The day doesn't ring any bells in Oliver's head but obviously there's some importance to it that he's missing.

"Yes, Thursday. The Queen Consolidated Charity Gala, remember? One of the benefactors this year is DefenseTech."

"Right, of course. The Gala. How could I forget?"

Easily, apparently. Oliver doesn't remember a single mention of any charity gala within the past month. This is all news to him. To be fair it has probably been in his work calendar for weeks. If he could only figure out how to work the damn thing past seeing what day it currently is...

"Oliver. Honestly, do you even listen to your assistant at all?"

"Please mother, of course I do."

Beside him, Felicity quietly scoffs before mumbling an almost unintelligible 'not'. Oliver has to fight the urge to respond.

"For your sake I hope so. You're expected to give a speech about the project and the cause."

"Great. Looking forward to it."

Thea once again pipes up from the other side of the table.

"Don't worry, Ollie, I'm sure someone will hold your hand if you ask them to."

Yeah, that earns another kick in the shin.

The conversation flows from there, one topic to the next. To be truthfully Oliver doesn't pay much attention for the rest of the meal unless directly addressed. Images of Felicity crying out in the throes of passion fill his mind, causing his body to stir one too many times throughout the course of their dinner. He has a sneaking suspicion that Felicity isn’t doing much better seeing as she’s caught off-guard more than once when addressed by someone else at the table. There have also been a few times when he’s stolen a glance in her direction, only to find her eyes glazed over and bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

By the time the table’s cleared and everyone is going their separate ways, all Oliver wants to do is drag Felicity back into his room, or hers he’s not picky, and finish what they started in the shower earlier. And they almost do.

Unfortunately, someone has other plans for them.

“Okay, what would you have done if I were mom walking in right now?”

“Thea!”

Felicity scrambles off her place in Oliver’s lap and quickly reaches for her shirt, pulling it back over her head in one swift motion. Oliver, on the other hand, simply groans as he falls back on the bed. They had been in the beginning stages of a particularly heated make out session in Felicity’s room that he knows wouldn’t have stayed PG-13 for much longer when Thea came barging in. Talk about a mood killer.

“What are you doing in here, Speedy?”

“For your information, I came to see my best friend since you’ve been monopolizing her time as of late.”

A guilty look crosses Felicity’s face and Oliver knows that this is the end of their sexual exploration for the night. It’s just as well; they shouldn’t have to worry about someone walking in on them during their first time being together, Felicity’s first time being with anyone, period.

“Oh, Thea, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize…”

His sister waves a hand at the comment, brushing it aside.

“Don’t sweat it, Lissy. He’s older, you work together, you also live under the same roof… It’s new and taboo and exciting, I get it. But now I’m here demanding a girls night. As in, no boys allowed so, Oliver, get out.”

Oliver knows better than to fight with Thea on this one. She’s already prepared with a caddy full of movies, snacks, nail polish, and some other magical female weaponry that he doesn’t know half the names of. Plus, she’s right. He has been monopolizing Felicity’s time lately despite their slight pause this past week.

“Alright, I’m going.”

Quickly scooping his shirt off the floor, Oliver tugs it over his head before walking over to Felicity, lowering his voice so only she can hear him.

“I really, really want to continue this. I’m going to be thinking about our shower together all night.”

Her pupils dilate just a little as his words, cheeks heating just beneath the surface.

“I would like that very much.”

Despite Thea’s presence in the room, Oliver can’t resist stealing a kiss from Felicity. It lingers for a little longer than it probably should, a distinct clearing of a throat from behind signaling for them to hurry it up. Felicity is the one to break the kiss before leaning back in to press a brief peck against his mouth for good measure. Then she lightly shoves on his chest with one hand, smiling widely as she tells him to go.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

Throwing one more smile her direction, Oliver crosses the floor to exit the room, grin widening at his sister’s annoyed expression.

It feels like he’s floating on cloud nine and nothing in the world could ever bring him down.

….

Chapter Text

Felicity's outfit: gala

Thea's outfit: gala

....

If he ever were to get tired of his usual workout regimen, moving furniture might be a suitable stand in. It's Tuesday night and Oliver, Diggle, and Tommy are currently spending their evening rearranging the furniture in his newly furnished apartment. The movers brought all the stuff in earlier today while he was at Queen Consolidated, overseen by both Thea and his mother. However, they hadn't placed everything due to his absence.

"Babe, is this centered?"

"A little more to your left. No, no your other left. My left."

Laurel directs them from her place at the kitchen island, chatting with Thea and Felicity while the boys do the heavy lifting. To their credit, the girls had helped with what they could but all that's left are the larger pieces of furniture such as the entertainment center and the oversized couch the three men currently have in their arms.

"How's that, Laurel? Better?"

“That’s a little too far. Move it back some to the right.”

A huff of laughter leaves Oliver’s mouth as Tommy releases an exaggerated groan. The girls quietly snicker, Felicity’s delighted laugher rising above the others’ and making Oliver’s heart swell. This is what things would be like everyday if he and Felicity were a normal couple, spending time with friends and enjoying being together without worry.

“Better?”

This time Felicity is the one to answer Diggle’s inquiry.

“Perfect! I think you three have done enough moving and shaking for the night. Plus, the only thing left to arrange is the office that we all know Oliver will barely use.”

None of them object to that one. The three men make their way to the kitchen, quickly snatching up the beers left for them on the counter. Oliver watches his best friend walk around the other side of the island to join Laurel, carelessly slinging an arm around her shoulders and planting a loud kiss on the side of her head. Laurel rolls her eyes in mock exasperation before smiling fondly at her fiancé and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

Oliver catches Felicity’s gaze over the top of Thea’s head and gives her a small smile. The look in her eyes, however, causes his stomach to drop. She’s sad. It’s a small glimpse of an emotion, merely a passing wave in her endless depths, but it’s enough that he notices. Surprisingly, a voice inside of him answers her in kind, echoing that small sadness, that longing for something they may never have. The ease with which Tommy openly touches Laurel, who returns the affection in kind, isn’t an option for them. Their relationship stays in the shadows, in the quiet spaces of their lives, away from the rest of the world and its inhabitants. That includes keeping it hidden from the people they love and whom love them.

Oliver reaches behind the barstool his sister currently occupies to briefly run his fingers down Felicity’s forearm, squeezing her wrist in gentle reassurance before letting go. She brightens at the contact, the sadness behind her eyes dissipating almost as quickly as it came. At least for now, the simple contact is enough.

“Ollie?”

Laurel’s soft questioning draws Oliver’s attention from across the counter.

“Hmmm, what? I’m sorry I must have been zoning out or something.”

“That’s okay you’ve been hard at work. I was just wondering how things are going with Applied Sciences. I’m sure everyone is in overdrive preparing for the arrival of the investors and the gala on Thursday. Raisa probably has her hands full with all the extra housing staff.”

“She and my mother have it under control. Although it would be much easier if the fundraiser wasn’t being held at the mansion. Moira insisted we hold it at the house though, something about being more welcoming so the investors and executives would feel more connected to the project.”

To be truthful, the details are sort of lost on Oliver. Moira is always at the head of planning any QC function while everyone else follows her lead. It’s worked thus far and there’s really no use fixing something that isn’t broken.

“Well I think it’s a great idea. The investors will feel a lot more comfortable and at ease since you are literally inviting them into your home. It’s a much more intimate venue than some fancy museum or ballroom in a five star hotel.”

And of course, Felicity uttering the word ‘intimate’ sends Oliver’s mind into overdrive. Ever since their time in his shower four days ago, the thought of being with her has permeated almost every one of his thoughts. They haven’t gone any further since then, never having enough time for anything more than a good make out session and that one time he’d made her come apart with his fingers while his parents had been out at dinner with some of Starling’s finest. To say that he’s sexually frustrated is an understatement. The tension between him and Felicity is so palpable to Oliver that he’s shocked no one else has picked up on it. Even now with Thea sitting between them and Tommy and Laurel on the other side of the counter, Oliver aches to reach out and touch Felicity, to feel her skin against his and claim her as his own as well as be claimed by her.

This kind of pull is not something he’s entirely familiar with. Sure, there had been women, copious amounts of them in his youth. There had even been some whose company he genuinely enjoyed outside of sex, Sara Lance being a prime example. But there was no one like Felicity. No one who made every fiber of his being come alive with just a look, who inspired him day by day to be the best version of himself, who believed in him and his capability even when he himself did not. There had been one who had come close… but for all his experience, no one measured up to Felicity. So in a way, this is almost as new to him as it is to her, at least emotionally.

“Oh wow, is it that late already? We should probably get going, Ollie.”

It’s Laurel once again who brings Oliver out of his musings as she tosses her phone into her purse, then slides the leather bag up and over her shoulder. A glance at the digital clock on the oven reads that it’s almost ten o’clock and they all have work to do tomorrow.

“We should go, too. You ready to head out, Lissy?”

Felicity nods her head, grabbing her own bag and checking through to make sure she has everything. Her rustling becomes a little more erratic as she continues to search for something that apparently isn’t there, although it is a rather large bag and Oliver wouldn’t be surprised if the item is simply hiding in its deep, dark depths.

Digg gives the blonde a questioning look before speaking aloud.

“Everything okay, Felicity?”

“Yeah, I just… I thought I had something…”

She doesn’t finish the thought, instead trailing off as she shakes her bag around a little. Suddenly her eyes alight with realization as her head pops up.

“Oh! I left it in Oliver’s room when we were unpacking things. I’ll go grab it and then we can all leave together. Be right back!”

Various forms of amusement float through the room at Felicity’s exclamation as she pushes off the barstool and quickly darts down the hall and out of sight.

“Twenty bucks says it’s that intern kid.”

Oliver’s head swivels around to look at his best friend, eyebrows scrunched together and eyes squinting in confusion. In the barstool next to him, Thea leans back, arms crossing in front of her chest as her gaze bounces back and forth between the room’s occupants.

“What?”

“Dude! The guy who left that giant hickey on her neck after her birthday party, the one who has her all happy and weightless, well more than usual, I think it’s your intern assistant.”

Damn it. He really hoped Tommy had forgotten about that. Apparently not.

“Maybe she’s just really happy to be home for the summer.”

It’s such a lame excuse and Tommy barely even acknowledges it, shaking his head before taking a swig of his beer. Digg is quietly leaning back against the stainless steel refrigerator, all-knowing smirk firmly in place at Oliver’s obvious discomfort.

“We’ve talked about this, man. Boy smile.”

The conversation is effectively put to rest as Felicity comes bouncing back into the room, oversized bag hanging off her shoulder. Diggle speaks up when she turns expectantly to the group.

“Find everything okay?”

“Yup! Exactly where I left it. Ready to go?”

Everyone replies with varying forms of the positive as they gather their things and begin making their way towards the door. Felicity hangs back for a split second, reaching out to take Oliver’s hand in hers and give it an affectionate squeeze, one he returns in kind. Then she lets go and everyone says their goodbyes as they step onto the private elevator, heading down to the parking garage.

It’s not until the doors slide shut and the apartment is engulfed in silence that Oliver realizes how truly tired he is, both physically and mentally. His actions barely register as he throws away the half finished beer bottles and places Thea and Felicity’s glasses in the sink. He sluggishly moves down the hallway to his bedroom and collapses on the bed, deciding to put showering off until tomorrow morning.

About halfway through stripping out of his clothes, Oliver notices a folded up piece of paper peeking out from beneath one of his pillows. Curious, he reaches for the paper, surprised to find it weighed down by something cold and a little heavy placed inside. As Oliver unfolds the note, a piece of jewelry slides out and onto his down comforter. It’s the ring Felicity never takes off, hanging on a long golden chain. He quickly gathers it in the palm of his hand before reading the accompanying note.

Incase you get lonely.

There’s no signature. He doesn’t need it anyway.

Pulling out his phone, Oliver quickly scrolls through his contacts to the F’s and pulls up a blank message before he begins typing.

I think you left something behind.

He doesn’t have to wait too long for the reply. He definitely doesn’t spend what little wait there is grinning like a fool and playing with the ring turned necklace.

It’s okay. I took something of yours to replace it.

There’s a picture attached to the message and Oliver enlarges it a little too eagerly.

His breath catches and his cock twitches at the sight before him. Felicity is standing with her back to camera, body clad in one of his Army T-shirts with his last name printed across the back. As far as Oliver can make out, she’s not wearing anything else with it.

Are you trying to kill me?

Jesus, the longer Oliver looks at the picture, the harder he gets. Seeing his name on her like that… Well, the possessive side of him is very pleased by it even though he knows damn well that Felicity belongs to no one but herself.

No, just giving you an idea of what’s to come. Ah, I really didn’t mean for that to sound as dirty as it did. I’m gonna go to bed before I embarrass myself further. I’ll see you tomorrow in the office. Sweet dreams!

The text reads so clearly in her voice that Oliver can’t fight the grin spreading across his face. He quickly taps out a reply before plugging his phone into its charger and reaching over to turn off the light, sinking into his down comforter as he drifts off to sleep.

They’ll mostly be about you, now that I have that image in head. See you tomorrow.

….

“We need to talk.”

Those were not exactly the words Oliver was expecting to hear when he met with Felicity and Digg in the lobby of Queen Consolidated during his Thursday afternoon lunch break. A lunch break he was incredibly grateful for until those four words slipped out of Felicity’s pretty pink mouth and caused him to stop short, leather shoes scuffing against the ground at the sudden halt in motion.

“Oh, oops, that sounded really bad. I mean we, the three of us, need to go talk. Away from here. In private. About things.”

It’s then, with the small flourish of her hands, that Oliver registers the manila folder in her possession.

“What’s in the folder?”

“That would be what we need to talk about. So, lunch?”

Nodding his head in agreement, Oliver falls into line next to Felicity, Diggle flanking her other side. As they head towards the elevator that will take them to the parking garage, both men meticulously survey their surroundings. Felicity may not be concerned by the mediocre security at QC, but both Oliver and Diggle are.

“So, where are we going? Burgers and fries sound really good right now. Oh! And a mint chip milkshake!”

Diggle chuckles at Felicity’s enthusiasm before answering her.

“I know just the place.”

Fifteen minutes later the sleek black town car slides into a parking spot back behind a brick building lined with windows. The circular emblem checkered in red and white reads Big Belly Burger.

“Here we are. Best burger joint in the city.”

“My knight in shining armor.”

It takes them another ten minutes before they’re situated in a booth towards the back of the restaurant, food ordered and drinks on the table. It’s then that Felicity pulls out the manila folder, slapping it down on top of the checkered tablecloth.

“I found the connection. My mom was working for Bertinelli, or at least someone in the mob.”

Oliver quickly snatches up the folder, flipping it open to look over the documents inside as Felicity further explains.

“A couple of years ago my mom asked me to set up a secure, automatic back up between her laptop and an external hard drive so I wrote this program that copies the exact content of the laptop onto a hard drive via cloud. Essentially I cloned her computer. Lucky for me, I installed a backdoor so if anything were to happen, I could go in through my own system and secure the cloned content.”

Oliver’s head is already spinning at the information she’s rattling off at a rapid fire pace, like it’s nothing more than a commonplace grocery list. He knows Felicity is smart, everyone does. She was valedictorian at the prep school that all of Starling’s elite had their children attend. But he didn’t realize just how capable she was or how far her skills stretched until now.

“So I was taking a look at some of the older files and transactions that my mother was a part of during the time that Bertinelli’s company was drafting their contract with Kord. In addition to the deal with Bertinelli, my mother authorized an investment in a small start up company named Spyral. It was an LLC, offshore, very private. So private, in fact, that it doesn’t exist. There’s nothing registered with the secretary of state, no federal tax records, no patent applications filed. Nothing, Nada. Zilch.”

The server interrupts Felicity from her explanation, setting their food down on the table in front of them. Oliver barely pays the girl any attention, still trying to process all the information being thrown his way. There’s a feminine clearing of a throat and he glances up to find an amused smirk on Felicity’s face. He tilts his head in question to which the blonde replies with a small nod of her head in the waitress’s direction. Looking up, Oliver finds the young girl giving him what he assumes is supposed to be a seductive gaze. She just sort of looks like she forgot to put her contacts in this morning and is squinting to see him clearly.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything else I can get you?”

“That’ll be all, thanks.”

“Okay. Well, let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

From across the table Oliver can hear Felicity snort in amusement and he just catches the end of her eye roll as he turns back to look at her.

“Is this really how you guys discuss the illegal workings of large scale embezzlement? Over burgers and shakes and flirtatious waitresses?”

“Was she flirting? I didn’t notice.”

“Oh yeah, she was definitely hot for you.”

Oliver leans forward, looking Felicity straight in the eye as he says his next words.

“Too bad there’s only one girl I’m hot for.”

“Alright, can we get back to crime fighting please?”

Both Oliver and Felicity sit back in their seats, unaware of how close they had gotten during their exchange. Clearing his throat, Oliver gives Digg an apologetic shrug before directing his attention back to the files on the table.

“So you were saying something about a nonexistent company?”

“Right. Yes. Spyral. Well around the same time that the deal fell through with Bertinelli and Kord, Spyral was liquidated and its remaining assets redistributed to another offshore account. But here’s the real kicker, all the transactions were being shadowed. They felt a little hinky to me so I started looking for traces. Whoever was monitoring it was good, really good. But I’m better. I couldn’t pinpoint a source of origin but look at what I found.”

Felicity reaches forward to rifle through some of the files before pulling out an enlarged picture of a logo. The same one that had been engraved in the bullets the cops collected at the first shooting.

“Bertinelli.”

“Bingo.”

The trio sits in silence for a moment as Felicity allows the two men to let what she’s discovered sink in. Digg is the one who finally speaks up.

“Well I’ll be damned. You found the missing link.”

Oliver leans forward, forearms resting against the table and eyebrows pinched together in concentration. He’s pretty sure he knows what this all adds up to but needs to say it, hear it out loud to be sure.

“So if you’re mother was embezzling money for Bertinelli, then… “

“Then he’s using me as a warning. I don’t think those shots missed me on accident. I think they went exactly where they were supposed to go.”

Diggle jumps in, putting two and two together just as Oliver is doing.

“It’s a threat.”

“It’s a promise. If my mother talks…”

If Karen talks Felicity is as good as dead.

The thought stops Oliver’s heart in his chest and makes his blood run cold. Ice creeps through his veins, turning them fragile, breakable and it feels like his body has quit on him. Ever image of this exact outcome that’s ever invaded his thoughts floods Oliver’s mind. He can’t breathe. He can’t see straight. He can’t.

“Oliver?”

In his thoughts she screams out for him. He can’t reach her.

“Oliver!”

Suddenly there’s a pressure against his side and two cold hands frame his face.

“Hey, shhhh, shhh, shhh. Hey, it’s okay. Nothing’s gonna happen to me. I’m right here with you. Safe.”

Safe. His heart clenches at the word, restarting its beating as he drags in a stuttering breath. He reaches up to grab Felicity’s wrist, feeling for her pulse and sighing in relief when he finds it. He uses the steady rhythm as a guide for his own, erratic beating.

“Felicity.”

“Right here.”

The room comes back into focus and Oliver’s suddenly very aware of their public setting. Luckily, they had asked for a more private table in the back and there weren’t many patrons in the restaurant at this time of day, it being a little later than the average lunchtime hour.

A few more deep breathes and Oliver begins to calm enough to pull himself together.

“Here, drink some of this.”

Felicity reaches a hand out to grab her milkshake and holds it up to Oliver in offering. His lips close around the end of the bright red straw as he takes a pull of the creamy mixture. A burst of mint and chocolate floods his taste buds, cold liquid settling the hollowed sickness in his stomach.

“Mint is a very soothing and calming ingredient. That’s why it’s my go-to for stress eating, that and because it’s delicious.”

Of course Felicity is smart even when it comes to her binge-eating habits. It’s not surprising in the least and that little piece of her helps Oliver to center himself. He takes one more sip of the milkshake before setting it down in front of him, one hand dropping down to find hers beneath the table and tangle their fingers together.

"Better?"

Taking another deep inhale, Oliver runs his gaze over Felicity as a final reassurance that she's okay.

And she is. She's fine. She's okay. They're okay.

His eyes sweep across their surroundings again and land on Diggle who’s sitting on the other side of the table. The older man has an inquisitive expression on his face, taking in the couple across the booth with careful consideration, as if he's really looking at them for the first time. It's a little unnerving to have someone peeking in on such an intimate moment but Oliver simply nods to Digg and returns his attention to the blonde beside him.

"Better. Thank you."

"Anytime."

A beat of weighted silence passes between them as the tension dissipates.

"So, what's our best course of action? Should I call my mom's lawyer? Set up a meeting in Central? I'm supposed to go down there anyway for a pretrial conference pretty soon but this seems like the kind of thing they would want to know sooner rather than later."

The questions are directed more towards Diggle than him. Oliver can't tell if it's because Digg is the one primarily in charge of her security or if Felicity is trying to save him from having another panic attack. Regardless, he's grateful for the chance to breathe and process and to let someone else he trusts take care of things for once.

"Yeah, contact her lawyer. I'm going to need to talk to her about security details. It will probably take us a few days to get everything set up and secured. Until then it's best to just carry on with our very calm, very normal lives."

"Right, because blackmail, near death experiences, and charity galas just scream normal.”

....

Glasses clink together in salute, people laugh at horrible jokes, the band leads a moving rendition of some old-time jazz song in the background. It’s your typical evening function for the lot of Starling’s finest, made only more exclusive by the intimate venue.

Oliver would rather be anywhere but here.

The gala has only just begun and already he’s been hit up by sleazy business owners and hit on by their high society wives. The latter makes up his current company. She’s an older woman in her late forties, tall super model stature with a touch too much Botox. Her hand grips Oliver’s upper arm as she laughs too loudly at something he just said. They’ve been talking for the past ten minutes but his gaze began searching the room for an out during minute four.

“So, what’s a young, successful businessman such as yourself doing at your own function unescorted?”

“Well, I… uhm…”

Of course, life very rarely plays out twice the same way. Last time this happened Felicity came to his rescue and offered to be his dance partner. It seems Oliver is in no such luck tonight. The woman, whose name he’s forgotten, waits patiently for a reply, acrylic fingernails scratching along the top of his arm in what he assumes is meant to be a stimulating manner. The only thing it stimulates is his instincts telling him to run for the hills.

“I figured it would be better to avoid distraction this evening. We have a lot of projects to raise money for tonight and I wanted to take the time to personally speak with each possible investor, answer any questions they may have. It would be unfair of me to ask someone to stand by my side all evening and not give her the attention she deserves.”

“How very considerate of you, Mr. Queen.”

Great. He’s somehow succeeded in furthering the woman’s interest. Oliver is about to make an excuse about checking on the wait staff or the band or something when by some act of divine intervention an older man joins them. His arm wraps around the woman’s waist as he pulls her into his side.

“If you don’t mind, Mr. Queen, I would like to take my wife for a spin on the dance floor.”

There is a God.

“Of course. Have a wonderful evening.”

Oliver quickly gets the hell out of there and makes his way towards the open bar, signaling the bartender for two shots of vodka. He knocks back one, then the other without batting an eye, the liquid burning his throat on the way down. His tolerance before joining the Army had been borderline unhealthy to be honest and although that would never be attainable again, Oliver’s built up a pretty steady resistance since his return.

“Trying to drink yourself under the table, Ollie? You haven’t even made your speech yet. My suggestion would be to nurse a glass of wine or maybe some champagne. The bubbly this evening is fantastic, if I do say so myself.”

Turning to face Thea as she joins him in her all-over sparkling ensemble, Oliver raises a judging eyebrow.

“And how would you know that?”

“Just a hunch.”

His sister’s grin is innocent, a little too innocent, and Oliver decides against any further questioning. As long as she’s being smart and responsible, he really can’t say anything about it with his track record.

“So, what are you doing over here? Don’t you have some schmoozing to do?”

“I have schmoozed, as you so aptly put it, for the past hour. I’ve earned this.”

Tilting her head to the side, Thea brings a finger up to lightly tap at her bottom lip while giving Oliver a considering look.

“You know, I think I read somewhere that’s how alcoholism starts.”

“Thanks for the fun fact, Speedy. You look beautiful, by the way.”

She’s dawned a sunset orange, floor length gown for this evening’s event. The dress is intricately beaded, sparkling as she shifts in the soft light of the Queen’s oversized sitting-turned-party room. She looks so grown up.

“Aw, well thank you, big brother. Speaking of beautiful people, have you seen Felicity yet?”

Surprisingly he hasn’t, although it’s not without trying. Investor after investor wanted to speak with Oliver and every time he thought he spotted Felicity across the room, his attention had been drawn elsewhere and by the time he was free she was nowhere in sight.

“No, I haven’t. Do you know where she is?”

“If you turn around you might find her.”

Oliver turns quickly on his heal, air vacating his lungs the second his eyes land on Felicity’s advancing form. He had only been able to see the back of her head in the crowd earlier and even that took him awhile because her hair was in neither of her usual styles this evening. She had somehow styled and pinned her natural curls into a loose pile on the back of her head, a pearl headband keeping stray pieces from falling into her face. Now however, Oliver can clearly make out her entire, petite frame wrapped in a flowing dark blue gown with a plunging neckline that makes his mouth water, yearning to kiss a path down the exposed skin of her chest. His eyes travel back up to her face and Felicity smiles coyly at him, having caught his wandering gaze. Oliver’s only response is to grin at her as she makes her way over to him, stopping with an appropriate amount of space between them that does nothing to quell the sudden need he has to pull her close and feel her body against his.

“Hi.”

“You look stunning.”

A smile graces her bright red lips, painted to match her nails, and for a moment he’s lost in the sheer happiness he finds in her eyes. The rectangular frames of her glasses are absent this evening, giving him an uninhibited view of their gray-blue depths. Deep charcoal lines her eyes, making them appear larger than normal.

“Thanks. Thea helped me pick out the dress and did my hair for me. She also helped me with the make up a little bit but I drew the line at winged eyeliner. It’s not really my thing. Not that it isn’t gorgeous on other people but it always looks wrong when I do it.”

Oliver’s grin widens further at her endearing ramble and he reaches out to take her hand in his.

“You’re perfect. Dance with me?”

“Are you sure? In front of all these people?”

She has a point. He’s choosing to ignore it.

“We’ve danced together before, Felicity. It’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

She glances around to see if they’ve drawn anyone’s attention. When she seems satisfied that they haven’t, Felicity squeezes Oliver’s hand gently before letting go and nodding towards the makeshift dance floor.

“Okay. But I’m warning you now, this dress is backless.”

With that, she turns towards the already dancing couples, giving Oliver a full view of her exposed back. Aside from the crisscrossing straps that connect with the dress at her waist, Felicity’s back is completely bare down to the top of her tailbone and Oliver realizes that there’s no way she’s wearing a bra right now. The thought alone is enough to make his cock twitch in his dress pants and he wills with everything he has for it to stay calm as he joins her on the dance floor.

They don’t go straight to the middle, instead making an unspoken decision to place themselves inconspicuously amongst a group of couples on the side. Oliver’s hand finds the small of her back, hovering over it for a moment before smoothing against her naked skin at the base of her spine. His left hand moves to take hold of Felicity’s right one, pulling her in closer than a standard hold but not close enough to draw notice. Her free hand lands on his shoulder and slides up to cup the back of Oliver’s neck, playing with the short strands of hair and causing his eyes to slide shut as another wave of desire crashes over him. The affect the action has on Oliver must be visible because Felicity quickly withdraws her hand and places it back on top of his shoulder.

“Sorry. I wasn’t thinking for a second.”

They begin to sway to the soft chords playing in the background, a slow, low-key melody that seems only to heighten the electricity in the room. Or are they the only two who can feel it?

“You don’t need to apologize. If anyone does, it’s me for all the thoughts running through my mind right now.”

Felicity’s breath catches in her throat as she gazes up at him with rapidly darkening eyes.

“And what thoughts would those be, Mr. Queen?”

Taking a look around to make sure no one is watching, Oliver ducks his head close to Felicity’s ear and whispers against it.

“Thoughts about how badly I want to get you out of that dress and worship your body until you scream my name.”

Her hand tightens in the fabric of Oliver’s suit jacket and his fingers flex against her skin as he growls out the last three words. He pulls back to gaze down at Felicity, her blown pupils and heated cheeks mirroring the desire rolling through him. Her tongue peeks out to run across her full bottom lip before she tugs at it lightly with her teeth.

Fuck it.

“Meet me in the library on the main floor. Make sure no one sees you.”

With that, Oliver abruptly releases Felicity from his hold and heads towards the entryway to move down the hall. Luckily no one stops him to talk, warned away by his purposeful gait. He’s on a mission and no one is going to get in his way.

As he reaches the library, Oliver checks to make sure no one is around before entering the room and shutting the door tightly behind him. Restless energy shoots through him as he waits, pacing back and forth in front of the antique leather couch. It only takes Felicity maybe five more minutes to get there but when the door handle turns and she steps inside Oliver is on her in a matter of seconds. His arms slips around her petite waist, pulling her inside before he closes the door and presses her up against it, his chest flush against her naked back.

“Took you long enough.”

The words come out low and rough against her neck as he bends down to place hungry, openmouthed kisses against the sensitive skin.

“I had to – ah – make sure no one would get suspicious.”

“Mhmmm…”

Oliver hums against Felicity’s neck as his hands slide from their spot at her hips around to her lower abdomen, pulling her against his growing hard on as he presses into her backside. The action causes Felicity to gasp and grind back against Oliver in response, pulling a strangled groan from his throat.

“I’ve been so riled up these past couple of days. You have no idea, Felicity.”

“I think… I think I have a pretty good idea. I woke up three nights this past week needing you.”

His hands fist in the smooth fabric of her dress as he bites down on the side of her neck, laving the delicate flesh with his tongue.

“Fuck, baby, that’s so hot.”

Felicity pushes back off the door and turns in Oliver’s hold, arms coming up to wrap around his neck and pull him down for a soul-searing kiss. White heat consumes him as he walks her back towards the couch, hands sliding along her back and beneath her dress to cup her backside, her very naked backside.

“Are you serious?”

“What? I figured if I was going braless I would just forego all undergarments. Go hard or go home, right?”

“Oh, something is definitely going hard right now.”

To punctuate his statement, Oliver presses his hips forward into hers, drawing a whimper from her mouth.

“God, that was so bad. I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Shut up.”

Felicity’s knees hit the edge of the couch the next second and Oliver lowers her down onto it before climbing on top. His lips travel down her jaw and neck, over her collarbone where he pauses to suck at the area just above it, careful not to leave any visible marks. Felicity writhes beneath him as he makes a path down the center of her chest and breastbone, left bare by the deep neckline of her dress. Her hands on his shoulders shift from pulling Oliver tightly against her to pushing him away and he pulls back to look at her questioningly.

“You have far too many clothes on. The jacket needs to go. It’s only fair.”

Oliver happily obliges, stripping his arms out of the jacket of his tux and throwing the garment somewhere over the back of the couch. He quickly unknots the bowtie around his neck and does the same, watching as Felicity’s eyes widen from her position beneath him. She takes in his form without the jacket and bowtie, hands running down the straps of his suspenders.

“Holy shit. You should only wear suspenders. Like ever.”

His amused chuckle cuts off as Felicity yanks on the straps, bringing his mouth back to hers in a hungry kiss. Her hips begin to undulate against him, causing his to buck in response as they pick up a satisfying rhythm.

“Oliver, I want you. All of you. Tonight.”

Felicity’s words bring Oliver to a halt. He leans back to survey her features, making sure he heard her correctly.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

He leans down to kiss her with renewed vigor, fire igniting every fiber of his being. It’s a declaration and a promise and an elation all wrapped into one.

That’s when the door swings open.

“Oh, Oliver, sorry man I didn’t realize you were in here with someone. Laurel said she saw you walking this way but she didn’t say anything about you being with… Felicity?”

Oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh holy fuck.

For a long, suspended moment everything is frozen. Tommy stands in the doorway, eyes squinting in confusion like he’s trying to fit the pieces of a puzzle together that just won’t match up. Oliver remains hovering over Felicity, hands braced on either side of her head as he stares at his best friend, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlight. Beneath him Felicity gasps before frantically shoving at his chest. The action brings everyone back to the present and Oliver quickly scrambles off of the couch, stuttering for an explanation.

“What’s going on here?”

“Tommy, I can explain. I uh… Felicity and I… It’s not what it looks like.”

It’s not what it looks like. That’s what his mind comes up with. It’s every cliché in the book. But what they don’t tell you about this particular cliché is the feeling of absolute terror that floods through your veins with it.

“I’m not quite sure what it looks like. Because it looked like you and Felicity were playing tonsil hockey but that can’t be right. So someone please explain to me what the hell is going on.”

Both Oliver and Felicity stare at each other with twin expressions of absolute horror and utter helplessness. Neither of them knows what to do, what to say. They’ve been caught red-handed.

“Are you fucking her? Felicity, is he taking advantage of you?”

Oliver inhales sharply and Felicity gasps beside him before they both blurt out their responses.

“NO! Tommy, no, it’s not like that at all!”

“I would never do that to her. We haven’t even had sex yet.”

“Yet? What the fuck do you mean by yet?”

Tommy takes a threatening step forward, fists clenching by his sides. But Oliver doesn’t back down. He holds his ground, comforted slightly as Felicity slips her hand into his. The action does not go unnoticed by Tommy, who glances down at their intertwined hands, eyes widening in realization.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

Oliver glances at Felicity beside him, silently asking for permission that she grants with a simple nod of her head. He can feel her hand shaking in his and rubs his thumb across the back of it in an attempt to comfort her. Then he looks back at Tommy and steels himself for what he’s about to say.

“Felicity and I are together, Tommy. It didn’t start until after she was eighteen. Everything we’ve done has been fully legal.”

His friend’s scrutiny moves from Oliver to Felicity, eyes softening as he looks at her imploringly.

“Did he pressure you into this?”

“No! It’s not like that. We care about each other. A lot. Everything about our relationship has been consensual and, like Oliver said, legal.”

Tommy scoffs at that, bitterness seeping back into his voice as he takes another step towards Oliver.

“Your relationship? That’s what this is? What happened to Felicity being like a little sister, Ollie?”

“I never actually said that. Tommy, neither of us asked to feel like this, okay? I tried staying away, trust me I did, but we couldn’t prevent what’s between us from happening no matter how hard we resisted.”

Tense silence pulses around them as Tommy takes everything in. His icy cold gaze bounces back and forth between the couple before landing back on Oliver.

“When did it start?”

“… The night of her birthday party.”

Apparently that was not the answer he was looking for. Tommy’s eyes widen as he advances on Oliver.

“You couldn’t even wait a full twenty-four hours! You son of a bitch!”

Oliver takes a quick step to the side as his friend takes a swing at him. Undeterred, Tommy angrily whirls back around and grabs Oliver by his dress shirt, getting in his face as he raises his voice.

“She’s a child, Oliver! You’re almost twice her age! Man, you did some pretty messed up shit when we were kids, we both did, but nothing like this. You’re sick!”

Tommy pulls his arm back as Felicity raises her voice in the background, demanding them to stop but to no avail. Oliver shuts his eyes in preparation for the blow, unwilling to hurt his friend in a maneuver to prevent it, when an authoritative voice sounds from the doorway.

“What on Earth is going on in here?”

Three heads snap towards the room’s newest occupant, Moira Queen.

“Mom.”

Tommy roughly lets go of Oliver, shoving him backwards.

“At least I’m not the only one who was unaware of this twisted affair.”

Moira casts a calculating look throughout the room, eyes finally coming to rest on her son.

“Twisted affair?”

“Mom, I… Shit, none of this was supposed to happen this way…”

“You’re not making any sense, darling. What’s happening?”

Oliver stares helplessly at Felicity, searching for some sign of what to do. But she’s just as lost to this as he is and they both stare wordlessly back at Moira. Realization begins to wash over the older woman’s features, eyes growing wide with shock as she takes better notice of both Oliver and Felicity’s disheveled appearances; his missing jacket and bowtie, the headband slipping off her head and her rumpled dress.

“Oh.”

“Moira, I know it looks bad but if you could just let us explain, please – “

His mother holds up a hand, effectively cutting Felicity off before she begins to speak.

“We have very important guests in our house this evening. Now is not the time or the place to talk about this. Felicity, find Mr. Diggle and take him upstairs with you. Get some rest. You’ve had a long couple of weeks. Oliver, I’ll make an announcement that you ate something bad for lunch and had to retire for the evening. Your father or I will give the speech to the investors instead. I think it’s in the best interest of everyone here that you take the remainder of the night to yourself.”

The worst part is he can’t get a read on how Moira feels about the information she’s stumbled upon. Her demeanor remains calm and collected, giving no indication of how she’s taking the news that her son is dating a girl she’s practically taken in as her own these past few years.

Oliver takes a deep breath in before releasing the air in a long exhale. He collects both his jacket and bowtie from up off the floor and makes his way towards the door. Pausing to look back at Felicity, he tries to muster up a reassuring smile. She does her best to mirror it but Tommy takes a step in front of her, effectively blocking his view. Oliver swivels his head to look at Moira, imploring her with his eyes to understand.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but right now is not the time to figure it out. We will talk tomorrow when the environment is less… hostile. However, for now I think it’s best that you leave.”

Moira’s words ring with finality, leaving no room for discussion as she gestures towards the door. There’s nothing left for Oliver to do but bite his tongue, fists clenched, and make his way out of the room.

Chapter Text

That night in his apartment is one of the longest and hardest he’s ever had to endure. Oliver lays restless on his bed; unable to focus on anything other than the fact that he may have just lost one of the most important aspects of his life. His best friend, his mother, Felicity… it’s all hanging on a thread spun by the fates; precarious at best and doomed at its worst.

Tommy’s reaction was… not altogether surprising given his brotherly affection for Felicity. However, Oliver had hoped that Tommy would have at least heard him and Felicity out, tried to see things through their perspective. He isn’t sure what he will do if his best friend never comes around to it. His relationship with Felicity is permanent as far as Oliver is concerned. The only one who could put a stop to it is Felicity herself. He’s too far-gone to let anything or anyone else prevent them from being together. That also includes his mother.

Moira had been her usual calm and collected self when she realized what she walked in on earlier that evening and there is absolutely no way for Oliver to know what is going through her mind right now. For all he knows, she could be devising her own ways of keeping them apart. But his mother has always concerned herself with one thing in particular and that is the happiness of her children. Maybe if Oliver could just get her to see how important Felicity is to him and how happy they make each other then she would at least be willing to accept the relationship.

His phone lights up on the bedside table, signaling that someone’s calling him. Oliver quickly scrambles for it. Nearly falling off the king-sized bed in the process.

“Hello?”

“Oliver.”

“Felicity.”

Her name escapes him in a sigh, uncoiling the heavy knot that has been weighing down in the pit of his stomach since the moment Tommy walked in on them. It’s the same affect she had on him in the diner early today when panic had paralyzed his being.

“Are you… did you make it home? I guess that’s kind of a stupid question. Why wouldn’t you make it home? It’s not like you were injured or anything. I … I don’t know. I don’t know why I called. I just thought... We're okay, right? This doesn't change anything between us?"

Relief floods Oliver's veins at her question. He takes a moment to release the breath he’s been unconsciously holding in and is about to respond when Felicity cuts him off.

"I understand if you need some time to, uh, process. It's totally reasonable for you to want some space, take a break. Tommy’s your best friend and Moira’s, well, your mother. But I want you to know that this doesn’t change anything for me. I still lo – “

“Felicity.”

Her name rolls off his tongue with ease, firm to grab her attention yet soft with the gentle fondness and adoration he feels for her.

“Right. Sorry, babbling.”

“No, it’s not that. I could listen to you talk for hours. What I couldn’t do was allow you to go on with the notion that this in anyway changes how I feel about you.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line as Felicity processes his words. Then she lets out a relieved sigh, mirroring his from earlier and loud enough to be heard on Oliver’s end.

“Oh thank God. Because I know I said I would understand if you needed time, and it’s true I would, but I was still going to be really pissed.”

A huff of laughter escapes Oliver and his eyes meet the ceiling in a silent thank you to whoever allowed such a precious thing to be his.

“Felicity, there’s not a force on this Earth that could keep me away from you.”

“Good… So, what are we going to do about tonight?”

That’s the million-dollar question. What are they going to do? What happens next?

“I don’t know.”

Neither of them does. The future is a black abyss of uncertainty and fleeting permanence. They can’t predict how the people in their lives will react. They can’t control others’ actions. The only thing they can do is hold on to what they have and hope that it’s enough.

“Oliver, I can’t come in between you and Tommy or you and you’re family. I couldn’t live with myself if I did that.”

“They’re your family too, Felicity, in every way that matters. They’ll understand in time.”

“What if they don’t?”

They have to. Oliver doesn’t care very much either way if Robert approves or not. Considering his sidepiece at Queen Consolidated his father really doesn’t have any room to talk. But his mother and Tommy are a different story.

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“Okay.”

The conversation is as good as over but neither of them wants to end the call, to sever this small connection between them. So instead they sit in silence, the only sound between them being their even breaths. It takes less than a minute for their inhales and exhales to match up, the syncopation soothing Oliver as he sinks back into his bed.

“You know we’re the cheesy couple in the Nicholas Sparks movie, right?”

“Nicholas who?”

“Oh come on, Oliver. You must have had a girlfriend down the line who made you suffer through The Notebook.”

The name rings absolutely zero bells in Oliver’s head even though it’s clearly something of common knowledge if Felicity’s tone is anything to go by. At his silence, she presses on, trying to jog his memory.

“You know, Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling? Poor guy meets rich girl but her parents disapprove and eventually separate them until they meet again years down the road when she’s engaged to another man? Terribly cheesy and dramatic but it makes you cry anyway?”

“Can’t say I’ve heard of… Wait, is that the one where the girl for some reason decides that she’s a bird and the guy goes along with it?”

“Yes! That’s it!”

Oliver can almost see the victorious fist pump Felicity is no doubt doing right now. The thought makes him smile into the receiver.

“Yeah, some tried, but I never got past that scene.”

“What do you mean you – you know what, I don’t want to know.”

A chuckle escapes him as Felicity makes a fake gagging noise on the other end of the phone. Warmth floods his chest, creeping its way further up his throat until it bubbles over his lips, unable to be kept at bay.

“I love you.”

There’s a sharp gasp on the other line as Oliver’s eyes widen, jaw hanging open in shock. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Hell, he hadn’t even meant to think that. It just slipped out and now it’s there in the open, impossible to erase, permanent marker on a whiteboard.

“Oliver, I – “

A muffled voice interrupts Felicity from whatever she was about to say. She answers back and Oliver assumes that she’s covered the receiver because he’s unable to make out exactly what is being said.

“I have to go, but this conversation isn’t over. I’ll talk to you later.”

Oliver barely gets out a strangled ‘bye’ before the line clicks in disconnect. He sits in stunned silence, paralyzed by the confession he just made. The notion itself isn’t what has him so shocked, falling in love with Felicity Smoak is something Oliver had accepted as unavoidable, rather it’s the fact that he blurted it out so suddenly. And while on the phone with her no less.

Sighing heavily, Oliver brings a hand up to cover his face, eyes screwing shut at his own stupidity.

“Well, fuck.”

….

By an unspoken agreement, Oliver and Felicity don’t interact at Queen Consolidated the following morning. It’s a Friday and things are pretty quiet, most of the workers having left early after finishing up this week’s workload. If the gala hadn’t been last night Oliver probably wouldn’t have even come in today.

He’s reading through his third or fourth investment proposal when the office phone on the corner of his desk rings.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mr. Queen. Mrs. Queen is here to see you for lunch.”

Oliver tenses at the mention of his mother but tries to keep his voice as calm and relaxed as possible when he answers.

“Tell her I’ll be right out.”

Shuffling his things together, Oliver grabs his cellphone and wallet from his desk, pocketing them both before properly shutting down his computer the way Felicity showed him. (She had been livid the other day when he’d simply held down the button to turn the monitor off.) Then he leaves his office, locking the door behind him, and makes his way down the hall to where his mother is waiting for him.

Moira is all pleasant smiles and calm exterior as per usual. However, Oliver knows that beneath the façade lies a cool, cunning woman; one whose bad side he does not ever want to be on.

His mother reaches out an arm to greet Oliver in a gesture that he is extremely familiar with. Out of habit he leans down to place a quick peck against her cheek. The action, however, is stiff and robotic in manor, nothing like the sign of affection it’s meant to be.

“Hi darling. I thought you and I could take a walk to that little French café on the corner for lunch. We haven’t had a chance to talk recently and I’d like to catch up.”

The meaning behind her words is clear. She’s here to talk about Felicity.

“Yeah that sounds great. Barry, if anyone calls wishing to speak to me directly, please take a message and have them call back after two o’clock.”

“Of course, Mr. Queen. Enjoy your lunch.”

The two make small talk as they ride the elevator down to the lobby and exit the building. Their discussion remains monotonous and commonplace, mainly sticking to Applied Sciences and the weather. During this time, Oliver tries to get a read on Moira. However, she has no visible tells, which given his training is extremely unusual and equally frustrating.

As they make their way down the sidewalk, a light breeze stirs the air around them. It’s an overcast day; temperatures lower than normal and the smell of impending rain hanging low in the air. It’s gloomy and foreboding and a perfect reflection of what Oliver fears to be his impending doom.

“How long?”

He doesn’t need her to elaborate on the question.

“About three weeks. After she turned eighteen.”

“I see... And you two never did anything before then?”

Moira doesn’t turn to meet his gaze as she addresses him, opting to remain facing forward, stoic expression firmly in place.

“No.”

“So, it’s technically all been legal then?”

“Yes.”

His mother hums noncommittally as they continue on down the busy sidewalk, men and women in business suits passing by completely oblivious to Oliver’s inner turmoil.

"I can't say this is altogether shocking. I know Felicity had a little bit of a crush on you when she was younger. It was rather adorable actually. However, I thought maybe she had grown out of it and that you two were growing closer as friends with that elephant no longer in the room. But then the looks started and the little touches and I had my suspicions."

Oliver does his best to control his reaction even though internally he's doing his finest impersonation of a gaping fish.

"You... You knew?"

"I didn't know. I suspected. But... Is this a cry for attention? Do you feel like you need to make up for the escapades you missed these past few years? Some unusual manifestation of posttraumatic stress? Because if so, Felicity is not the girl to be doing this with."

"No! What? Mom, this isn't a... a fling. What's going on between me and Felicity is the furthest thing from that I promise you."

Considering what he blurted out to Felicity over the phone last night, a fling is pretty much the exact opposite of what their relationship is.

"Then what is it? Felicity is so young and brilliant, not that you aren't, and she has her whole life ahead of her still. You've already been through college, four of them I might add. You were enlisted, darling, and currently have a job in a well off company. The two of you are at completely different points in your lives. I'm trying my best to understand but you can see why I have my concerns."

Agitation worms its way into Oliver’s gut, causing his muscles to tense. He hates that this is almost everyone’s initial reaction, like it’s so hard to believe that he could truly care for Felicity. All they see is the age gap and draw their own conclusions.

"I’ve thought about it, more than you’ll ever know. Initially I thought it was just attraction, something I could shake off once I got used to being near her again. So I started hanging around, talking with her about random things to get to know who she is now. And the more I did, the more I realized how amazing of a person she’s grown up to be. It wasn’t just some perverse attraction it was…”

Oliver trails off for a second, attempting to collect himself by taking a slow inhale. The fingers of his right hand rub together, his trigger finger reaction. The thought reminds him of the time Felicity had brought it up, a casual observance that spoke volumes to him. It brings a small smile to his face, one that remains as he utters his next words.

“I’m in love with her.”

That finally puts a halt to Moira’s even paced strides. She turns to carefully consider her son, the words he just spoke clearly something she had not expected. Her gaze softens, a small bit of what appears to be sympathy shining through her eyes, his eyes.

"Sweetheart... You're a grown man and Felicity is a legal consenting adult. It's not my place to tell you what you can and cannot do. If you really do love her and you're not just screwing around, I'm not going to take any actions against it. Though I can't promise you others will show you the same courtesy.”

It’s an unspoken implication, but they both know who Moira is referring to with the term ‘others’.

“Which is why Felicity and I decided to keep it a secret for the time being.”

“You could both benefit from owning a dictionary, darling.”

They’ve just reached the café now as the conversation draws near an end. It certainly hasn’t gone in the direction Oliver suspected it would. He’s not a fool. He knows Moira is still less than thrilled by this, not yet willing to give her full support. But the fact that she hasn’t forbid him and Felicity from seeing each other or disowned him can be considered a win in his book.

“Before we put this conversation to rest, you should know that I have chosen not to tell your father. That responsibility lies on you and I pray he finds out in a more favorable way than I did. Until that time comes I will hold my tongue and have convinced Tommy to do the same.”

How she managed that Oliver will never know, but he’s learned over the years not to question his mother’s methodology. Instead he simply thanks her as a small weight is lifted off his shoulders.

“You’re my son, Oliver. I want you to be happy. Now, let’s sit down and have a bite to eat, shall we? I’m famished.”

….

Rain beats down heavily on the roof of Oliver’s top floor apartment. Even if one wall of his living area weren’t made entirely of windows, the dull roar of water droplets pelting the building would be enough to indicate the rain’s intensity. It’s not his favorite kind of weather to say the least. But luckily it hasn’t started thunder storming yet so he’s able to drown out the noise with the sound of his fists beating against the punching bag he installed earlier today.

His thoughts have been a whirlwind all day with everything that has happened in these past twenty-four hours. Tommy knows. Bertinelli is using Felicity as a threat. His mother knows. Felicity is going to tell her mother’s lawyer what she found anyway. Moira doesn’t completely disapprove of their relationship. He’s in love with Felicity Smoak.

The buzzing of the intercom system pulls Oliver from his thoughts. Strange, he’s not expecting anyone this evening. Striding over to the little white box in the wall, he presses the call button to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Scotty, care to beam me up?”

He would recognize that voice anywhere but he’s a little bit confused as to why she’s not coming in through the garage with Digg. Oliver had given him a permanent pass for the private residence parking so they could come and go as needed and without fanfare. Unless…

“Felicity, where’s Diggle?”

“It’s possible that I maybe, sort of had Thea cover for me a little bit while I snuck out.”

“Felicity…”

Disapproval colors his tone as Oliver prepares to remind her of the very real danger she is in.

“I know, I know. It’s dangerous and stupid but I needed to see you. Now could you please let me in? I had to park the Mini down the block and circle around back so no one would track me - See? Digg’s training hard at work – but I forgot an umbrella and now I’m soaking wet because I had to trek through a torrential downpour. Also, this little airlock room is freezing and the longer I stand here waiting the closer I get to a cold or pneumonia or the plague.”

Oliver chuckles at Felicity’s babbling, not bothering to interrupt her while he punches in the code to let her in. There’s a faint buzz from the other end, signaling that the door has been unlocked and efficiently putting an end to her rant.

“Well we wouldn’t want you to catch the plague now would we? See you in a minute.”

As Felicity makes her way up to his apartment, Oliver goes to his room in search of a t-shirt and sweatpants for her to change into. She’s bound to be uncomfortable in sopping wet clothing and all jokes aside she really could come down with something if she doesn’t change out of them. Plus, he really loves the way Felicity looks in his too-big-for-her clothes. The picture she sent him only a few nights ago comes to mind and Oliver’s pretty sure she doesn’t mind it either.

“Hello? Oliver? You should know I’m dripping all over your new hardwood floors right now.”

Shaken from his musings, Oliver jogs too the main living area to greet Felicity. A lopsided grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, threatening to give away his amusement at the sight before him. She wasn’t kidding when she said she was soaking wet and dripping on his floor. A small puddle has already begun to collect at her feet, rainwater dripping from her dirty blonde curls as Felicity tries in vain to wipe away the droplets on her glasses with her drenched shirt.

“Hey.”

The blonde startles at the sound of Oliver’s voice, glasses falling to the ground as her hands come up to cover her heart.

“Jesus, Oliver! Warn a girl next time before you go all ninja on her!”

He takes a few steps closer, bending down to retrieve Felicity’s glasses before offering them to her along with the change of clothes.

“Sorry.” He’s not. “Here, you can put these on while we throw your clothes in the dryer. The towels in my bathroom are clean for you to dry yourself off with.”

Felicity happily accepts the dry clothing, bouncing up on the balls of her feet to place an affectionate peck against his cheek.

“My hero.”

Oliver takes a moment to watch her slip and slide down the hall towards his room, bright yellow sneakers squeaking as she goes, before making his way into the kitchen. It’s later than he suspected and hunger has begun to make its presence known, gnawing at his stomach. Has Felicity eaten yet?… Just incase she hasn’t Oliver pulls out enough sandwich ingredients for two before begin to put his own together.

A minute or so later, he’s vaguely aware of the sounds of bare feet padding across hardwood floor. Knowing it’s just Felicity coming towards him, Oliver remains focused on his task at hand; slicing up a juicy red tomato. He’s about to ask Felicity what she wants on her sandwich when a loud bang floods his ears. Flashes of gunshots and screaming and blood overcome him and Oliver reacts on instinct, reaching for the nearest weapon he can find; the knife that just fell from his grip. Whirling around, his eyes seek out Felicity standing a foot away from him. She holds herself stock-still, eyes wide and hands slightly raised by her sides. It all happens in a matter of seconds but for Oliver it feels like an eternity.

“Oliver. Oliver, it’s okay.”

There’s another cracking sound and Oliver’s grip tightens, adrenaline masking the sting he feels in his hand at the action.

“Hey, listen to me. It’s just thunder. Everyone is okay. It’s just thunder.”

 Realization washes over him and his hold on the knife loosens. Pain finally registers with him as it clatters to the tile floor of the kitchen. A warm liquid tickles the palm of his hand and glancing down Oliver sees deep red blossoming from his palm.

“You’re hurt!”

Turning away, Oliver cradles his injured hand so as not to get blood on the floor as he moves to rinse it off in the sink.

“It’s fine. Could you go into my bathroom and grab the first aid kit from underneath the sink, please?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Turning the faucet to cold, Oliver allows the water to run for a few seconds before immersing his hand beneath the steady stream. Dark red mixes with clear blue and swirls in the basin before washing down the drain. As the concentration of blood to water becomes less, he reaches for the soap to rinse the wound. The sting it causes allows Oliver to center himself so that by the time Felicity returns his breathing is back to normal. He turns off the faucet and dries his hand, pressing a towel against it to further stop the bleeding, before moving to accept the first aid kit from her.

“Here, let me do it.”

Felicity gently takes a hold of Oliver’s wrist to bring his hand closer, examining the shallow cut in his palm with the utmost concern. Once she seems satisfied that the blood flow has been decently staunched, she opens the kit and pulls out a tube of Neosporin. Small, careful fingers begin to lightly massage the cream over his wound. Felicity’s gaze is intent on the task at hand while Oliver’s is glued to her face. He’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself; after all he’s the one with military training. But letting someone else take care of him is a comfort he rarely had these past five years and having Felicity be the one to do this brings with it a calming clarity.

He wants her to know everything.

“Her name was Shado.”

For her part, Felicity barely pauses in her wound tending. Barely.

“We were friends, she and I. And Slade. The three of us were all in the same unit, Digg’s unit, from Day One. They both kicked my entitled ass. They didn’t care who I was before enlisting or about my last name and it was exactly what I needed to start over, reinvent myself.”

Oliver pauses for breath, reliving the first time Slade called him kid… the day Shado out shot everyone in their unit, including him… their first mission together in which Slade saved him from a landmine… the first time he learned what Shado tasted like…

“Shado and I grew close. She was an amazing woman. Strong, smart, patient, independent… I owe a lot of who I am today to her. Her and Slade weren’t just my peers, but people I looked up to and respected. They were the best mentors I could have had, aside from Digg.”

He takes a second to survey Felicity’s reaction to this piece of information. She’s not the petty jealous type, but he knows that talking about a past lover isn’t always taken well. However, she continues on unfazed. Her only response is to ask him one simple question.

“Was?”

Oliver swallows hard, bracing himself against the barrage of horrific images that flash through his mind. Felicity must feel his reaction because she finally pauses in her ministrations to gaze up at him, gently placing a comforting hand just above his elbow.

“Hey, you don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready. I understand.”

“No, I – “ His voice is coarse with emotion and Oliver takes a second to clear his throat before continuing. “I’m ready. I want to tell you. It’s just the first time I’ve really talked about it with anyone who wasn’t there.”

An encouraging smile graces Felicity lips as she nods in understanding.

“Okay.”

One more moment, Oliver gives himself one more moment to drown in the memories before pulling it together. He wants to do this. He needs to do this.

“We were out on a standard patrol of a nearby town. It wasn’t supposed to… The people there weren’t bad people. We had an amicable relationship with them. It was just a standard patrol, a routine sweep, something we had done so many times before. But I guess that’s what happens when you get used to things. They change to show you that nothing is permanent and life is ever changing and evolving and out of your control… We were ambushed. They separated us and took Shado. I tried to get to her but Slade held me back, said we were no use to her dead. Then the bomb went off and when we came to they were gone and so was she.”

Felicity’s breath catches in her throat and she reaches for the sterile gauze to distract herself. Oliver knows that if he stops now to dwell on the events he will spiral. So he plows forward, determined to tell her everything.

“I found out where they were keeping her, a bunker a couple of miles outside of town. I informed Diggle but he wasn’t as invested as I was. I wanted to charge in, weapons drawn and bring her back. He warned me to wait for the unit to come up with a strategy. I should have listened to him. Maybe if I had Shado wouldn’t be… She wouldn’t be dead.”

Tears prick at the back of Oliver’s eyes as he barely whispers the words, not realizing until now just how responsible he felt for her death.

“But I didn’t listen. I told Slade that I was sneaking out of camp to go get her and he insisted on coming with me, refusing to let me go into battle alone. So we left a few nights later and infiltrated the bunker. We found Shado without a hitch, taking out the two guys guarding her room with ease. They weren’t trained like us, just guys with guns who knew how to shoot without hurting themselves. I should have known it was too easy to be true. They were ready for us.”

Felicity secures the gauze in place, gently smoothing it over with her hand. For some reason the gesture pushes him over the edge, hot tears slowly making their way down his face.

“I heard the shot. We were running through the halls and I heard it. I heard her screams. I heard her body fall to the ground behind me. I can still hear it now, sometimes. She told me to run, to save myself and get far away from there. But how was I supposed to just leave her and Slade behind? I couldn’t. Felicity, I watched her bleed out in front of me while she screamed at me to leave her, while the life faded from her eyes.”

He can hear Felicity crying softly; the small sniffles and deep breaths she’s using to try and subdue it.

“I didn’t know Slade died until later. Turns out I had been shot too and lost consciousness as the unit came storming in. They had to sedate me the first time I woke up. The second time Digg was the only one there. He told me what happened, like I didn’t already know, and then he gave me the notice. We were all going home. But it wasn’t really all of us, just some of us, the ones lucky enough to make it back. I didn’t see it that way. How could I be considered lucky when two of the best people I had ever known were dead because of me?”

His gaze comes back to focus on Felicity’s as he reaches up to cup her cheek, thumb gently rubbing away her tears. She leans into his hand before drawing Oliver’s injured palm up to place a soft kiss over the gauze. His chest tightens at the sympathy and care he finds in her gaze.

And for the first time, Oliver acknowledges how lucky he is to have survived, to be given the chance to live and to love the way he does with Felicity.

“I’m starting to understand it now.”

“Oliver…”

Tugging her forward, Oliver places a lingering kiss on Felicity’s forehead before pulling her flush against him. Her arms link around his waist as his come around her back, one hand reaching to cradle the back of her head, fingers weaving into the golden tresses of her hair. They stay in that embrace for God only knows how long, taking and giving comfort to one another as needed. Felicity’s breath is warm against his neck as she burrows further into him, a sigh of contentment slipping past her lips and coaxing Oliver to release a deep breath of his own.

“I love you, Felicity.”

The blonde stiffens in his arms for just a moment before leaning back to look at him. Bright blue-grey eyes meet his and Oliver is stunned for a moment by the tenderness he finds in them, every bit of love and affection he feels reflected back to him in her gaze. Felicity adjusts her hold so that her fingers link together behind his neck, drawing him in close to where their lips just brush against each other’s as she whispers into his mouth.

“I love you, too.”

Pure, unadulterated joy bubbles up inside of Oliver and spills through every fiber of his being. It’s like he’s been struggling under water, gasping for air and suddenly he’s breeched the surface. The guilt he has felt for so long becomes almost nonexistent because for once he’s told someone everything. Relief and freedom flood his veins as Oliver closes the minute space between them and presses a deep kiss against Felicity’s lips, every ounce of love and awe he feels for this woman poured into it.

“Say it again?”

Felicity laughs against his mouth even as her hold around his neck tightens, hauling her body closer still.

“I love you, Oliver Queen.”

“And I love you, Felicity Smoak.”

He presses another kiss against her mouth before tracing a path across her cheek and down her jaw, strong hands gripping tightly at her petite waist. There’s a slight twinge in his injured hand but Oliver doesn’t care.

“I love you.”

He doesn’t stop there, continuing further down the pale column of her neck to suck on her pulse point. Felicity gasps above him, pushing her body further into his as her fingers card through his hair.

“I love you.”

 Nosing away the fabric of his oversized t-shirt, Oliver places openmouthed kisses along the newly exposed skin of her shoulder as he mumbles against her.

“I love you.”

Felicity tugs at his hair, urging Oliver’s mouth back to hers in a desperate, desire-driven kiss. His hands roam over her sides and the small of her back, coming forward to rest on her hips. Squeezing to signal his intent, Oliver lifts Felicity off the floor as she hops up, legs wrapping around his waist as her ankles lock together over his backside. Sparks of heat wrack his body as the action presses her center against his rapidly hardening length. He groans lowly before rejoining their mouths in a hungry kiss.

Keeping one arm tightly wrapped around Felicity’s waist, Oliver stretches the other out behind her, taking one step and then another until he feels the cool steel of the refrigerator against his fingertips. When her back meets the smooth metallic surface, the sound of clinking glasses joins their melody of pants and groans. Neither of them pays it any mind, too wrapped up in the emotional overload and physical sensations to care.

In a maneuver so perfectly timed it’s like clockwork, Oliver coaxes Felicity’s mouth open with his tongue just as her hands slip beneath his t-shirt to trace the rigid muscles of his abdomen. She whimpers against his mouth as his tongue sweeps through hers and slides the palms of her hands up to his chest, dragging his cotton shirt up with them. Oliver’s skin burns where Felicity touches him, fanning the flames of desire deep within his core. A grunt of protest leaves his mouth as she breaks off the kiss.

“Shirt. Off. Now.”

She doesn’t have to tell him twice. Within seconds the article of clothing is gone, carelessly thrown over Oliver’s shoulder and onto the kitchen floor. Felicity’s hands explore his exposed chest and abdomen before sliding around his back. Oliver tries to retain some semblance of control over the situation but it’s near impossible to do with the feel of Felicity lips pressed against his neck, shoulders, collarbone, chest… He hisses when her nails dig into the muscle of his lower back as she simultaneously swivels her hips against his.

“Shit.”

There’s a clanking noise, louder than the last, as Oliver pushes her back into the refrigerator and for a second he’s concerned that something might be broken in there. The thought is fleeting though as Felicity’s teeth scrape against the shell of his ear, sending a deep shiver down his spine.

“Oliver, take me to bed.”

Leaning back, he searches her face for any sign of hesitancy and finds none. But this is a big step for her and them. He needs to be sure she’s ready to take it.

“You sure?”

Felicity reaches down to grab the hem of her, his shirt and pulls it over her head, revealing that she has nothing on underneath. Oliver’s throat goes dry at the sight of her bare chest, rose-colored peaks tight with arousal and just within his reach.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Want to ask me again? I still have some clothes I can shed to convince you.”

“No, I’ll be doing that from here on out.”

Felicity raises an eyebrow at that, teasing smirk coming into play across her face.

“Oh really?”

Instead of responding right away, Oliver ducks down to pepper kisses along Felicity’s chest before taking one of her hardened peaks in his mouth. Her hands fly to the back of his head to secure him there as she arches further into him. A strangled gasp passes through her lips when Oliver lightly scrapes his teeth over her nipple. He takes his time worshipping Felicity’s chest with his mouth and then fingers until she’s writhing against him. Oliver pulls back to blow cold air across her sensitive peak and watches as it tightens further, causing Felicity to release a wanton moan.

“Really.”

Wrapping both arms around her lower back, Oliver hoist Felicity higher up his waist as he steps away from the refrigerator and turns them in the general direction of the master bedroom. He tries to stay focused on getting them to their destination but with Felicity pressing her bare chest against his and sucking at the sensitive area behind his ear it takes twice as long as it should.

Once they finally reach the bedroom, after a few pit stops along the way, Oliver stops them at the edge of the bed. His heart beats at a pace that can’t possibly be healthy and he can feel Felicity’s doing the same from where they’re pressed against each other. Heavy panting fills the room as they breathe each other in, processing what’s about to happen.

Felicity unhooks her legs from behind his back and lets them dangle until Oliver lowers her to the ground. Her hands drag slowly over his shoulders while his keep hold of her waist, neither of them making a move to put any distance between them. His breath catches in his throat when Felicity pushes up on the balls of her feet to place a tender kiss over the scar on his left pectoral, a bullet that nicked his heart and almost put him six feet under.

Wrapping one arm tightly around her waist, Oliver hauls Felicity to him and lowers them to the bed, using his free hand to brace himself on the mattress. The fluidity and speed of the movement cause Felicity to squeak in surprise. His chest rumbles with silent laughter as he leans down to burry his face in her neck.

“Damn ninja skills.”

Huffs of laughter leave Oliver as his lips travel down her neck, collarbone, the valley between her breasts… He places gentle kisses against the soft skin of her stomach, feeling the muscles there jump and contract under his ministrations. His fingers tease the area just beneath the elastic band of the sweatpants she has on. Felicity lifts her hips off the bed in silent invitation and Oliver is quick to accept it, sliding the loose material down her legs and throwing the pants onto the bedroom floor.

The sight that greets Oliver as he looks back up at Felicity is mesmerizing. She’s laid completely bare for him, having forgone her underwear as well apparently. Damp curls fan out behind her head like a golden halo as she gives him a hooded smile, cheeks flushed with arousal and lips swollen from his kisses. She’s the most beautiful sight Oliver has ever seen.

He leans back down to crash his lips against hers, one hand threading through the strands of hair at the base of her neck to angle her head and deepen the kiss. Oliver’s lower body settles in the cradle of Felicity’s hips, rocking his still clothed erection against her heated center. Even through the material of his cargos he can feel how wet she is. Oliver groans, deep and guttural, against her mouth as their hips pick up a pleasure-driven rhythm. Felicity answers him with a desperate moan of her own, legs coming up to wrap around his waist and pull her further against him.

“Oliver, condom.”

He, however, has something else in mind.

Shifting his weight to one side, Oliver reaches back to grab onto her calf, unwrapping her leg from around his waist and lowering it to the bed. Then he moves a hand in between them to drag a finger across her glistening slit. The sensation causes Felicity’s hips to jerk and pulls a high-pitched shout from her mouth.

“Not yet, baby. You first.”

Oliver slides one finger, then two inside of Felicity only to withdraw both of them to lightly rub over her clit, using his other hand to brace her hips against the bed as they surge towards him in search of friction. His thumb begins to draw lazy circles over the bundle of nerves while he leans back down to kiss a path across her stomach, hipbone to hipbone, pausing to suck at the sensitive skin where her tattoo resides.

“Ah, Oliver, please!”

Felicity’s hands grab at the comforter beneath her, twisting and pulling in an effort to keep her hips still. Oliver looks up to find her head thrown back, eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open in pleasure. His cock twitches at the sight and he presses down harder on her clit, determined to get her off before he’s inside her.

“Oh, God! I’m close.”

Sliding two fingers into her core, Oliver fucks her with his fingers, changing the angle of his hand so that the heel of it rubs against her clit. As the volume of Felicity’s pleasure-filled exclamations increases, so does the speed of his fingers working her over. She shifts her hips in search of that one thing that will push her over the edge.

“Ah, ah ah! Oliver!” 

“That’s right. Let go, Felicity. I’ve got you.”

Her orgasm wracks through her in an unintelligible jumble of shouts and moans. Not once does Oliver stop the movement of his hand, helping Felicity ride out the waves of pleasure until her body calms.

The look on her face is happy and sated, small smile in place that Oliver takes great pride in putting there. He shifts back over Felicity’s body so that he’s just barely hovering over her on his elbows. Her hands come up to lock behind his neck and pull him in for a slow, hungry kiss.

The slow part doesn’t last long as tongues begin to explore and hands wander. Her palms smooth along the plains of his back, never faltering when they come in contact with one of his many scars. She treats every inch of him as if it flows smoothly and seamlessly into the next and he couldn’t be more thankful for it, for her.

Oliver can tell by the way Felicity begins to shift against him that her body is working itself up to go again. Her hands trace a path down to his defined torso to cup him through his pants. The pressure provides very little relief, only furthering Oliver’s need to fill her completely. Then her hand is gone and he nearly whimpers at the loss of contact.

“Someone’s eager.”

Felicity laughs beneath him even as her hands hastily undo his belt buckle and unzip his pants.

“Says the girl who stripped in my kitchen earlier.”

“You needed the encouragement because of your stupid old man morals.”

Oliver aids Felicity in sliding his pants and boxer briefs off behind him, belt clinking with finality as it hits the floor. This is real. This is happening.

Before Oliver can comment on it, Felicity reaches a hand up to cup his jaw and pulls his mouth back to hers. Her arm wraps around his shoulders as his cradles her lower back and they push towards each other, desperate to get closer and closer still. His hardened cock brushes against her core, causing them to gasp against each other.

“Condom. Now.”

There’s no room for argument in Felicity’s command, which is fine because Oliver has none. He reaches for his wallet on the bedside table and flips it open, fingers slipping into the pocket in which he keeps a condom or two.

It’s empty.

“Shit.”

Felicity stills beneath him, eyeing Oliver suspiciously as he rifles through the different pockets of his wallet. His actions grow more frantic as he comes up empty-handed each time.

“Do not tell me that you don’t have a condom right now, Oliver.”

“I don’t…”

He trails off, absolutely stunned and honestly close to tears. He’s painfully hard and ready and of course he doesn’t have a condom.

“Felicity, I’m sorry I don’t – “

“Side zipper pocket of my purse.”

The instruction takes a second to register in Oliver’s mind and then he’s hurriedly reaching for the bag she must have placed on the bedside table when changing out of her wet clothes earlier this evening. When he finds it, Oliver pulls out the foil packet to display it victoriously until he realizes that Felicity had a condom in her purse, more than one actually. The confusion must show on his face because Felicity quickly comments on it.

“Oh please, Oliver. Have you met you? I went out and bought a box the day we decided to pursue this.”

That’s… a lot hotter than it probably should be and Oliver can’t help but laugh because it’s so practical and so Felicity. He tears the packet open before pinching the tip of the condom and rolling the rest over his length, shuddering at the sensation.

Leaning back down he captures Felicity’s mouth in a tender kiss, one hand gently cradling the side of her face, fingers massaging soft circles into her scalp. This one is different from their previous kisses this evening. It’s slow and deep and says more than any words ever could. It is love in an action.

“Ready?”

The word is a whisper against her lips, light as air but carrying all the weight of the world.

“Yes.”

“I love you, Felicity. So damn much.”

He slides home.

The feeling is incredible, unlike anything else Oliver has ever experienced with any other woman. He knows it’s not just because of her no longer existent virginity. It’s so much more than the physicality of the act. His forehead presses into hers, eyes shut tightly as he fights the urge to move inside her, giving her time to adjust to his size.

“Oliver…”

His eyes open to meet Felicity’s and relief rushes through him when he sees her smiling at him. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized just how scared he was of hurting her.

“You okay?”

Felicity shifts slightly against him, pushing her hips further into his and causing them both to emit unintelligible sounds of pleasure.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m definitely better than okay. Keep moving.”

Oliver starts out slowly, pulling out fully before sliding back in and then repeating the action. Felicity moans loudly and against his ear, nails digging into his back as her hips begin to match his rhythm.

“Christ, you feel so good, baby. So good.”

Their movements begin to pick up speed, Oliver’s hand palming her waist and guiding her pace to match his. It’s give and take, push and pull like the tides and it feels just as natural.

Felicity draws a foot up the back of Oliver’s leg, hooking one, then another around his waist to pull him deeper inside of her. The new angle causes Felicity to cry out as he fills her completely to hit a spot deep inside of her that sends her reeling. Strangled cries and the sound of skin slapping against skin fill the room as their tempo increases, bodies desperately seeking out their release.

“Fuck! Please. Please!”

Her shouts only serve to egg him on further as Oliver enters Felicity again and this time swivels his hips into her. Her back arches in response, hands desperately twisting in the covers as she cries out. Oliver’s own release is fast approaching, the coil in his gut pulling tighter and tighter until he feels like he’s about to explode.

“I’m almost there, Felicity. Are you with me?”

“Yes! I’m close, so close! Oliver!”

Oliver grabs one of Felicity’s hands; loosening the death grip it has on the covers and dragging it up over her head. He does the same with the other one, intertwining their fingers above her. Her walls begin to tighten around him and Oliver mimics the action by gripping onto her hands tightly, pushing Felicity further into the bed as he thrusts into her while still trying to remain some semblance of control. A voice in the back of his head whispers to be careful, that she has never done this before and Oliver holds onto that to steady him.

“Oliver, I’m gonna… I’m – “

Her walls clench around him and Oliver can feel the vibrations coursing through Felicity’s body, calling out for his own to answer in kind.

“Come for me, Felicity.”

“Ahhhh! Oliver!”

She tumbles over the edge with a cry of his name and a twist of her hips, the action becoming Oliver’s tipping point. He feels the coil inside him snap and releases a shout as his own climax crashes over him. His hips stutter in their rhythm and still as he comes inside of her, Felicity’s little moans still sounding in the background as she gently rocks out her own orgasm.

When they’re both still, bodies humming with satisfaction, Oliver pulls out. Felicity groans in protest and he gently kisses the sound away, feeling her smile against his mouth. Blue meets blue as Oliver pulls back to look into her eyes, searching for any hint of regret and beyond thankful when he finds none. Placing one more gentle peck on her lips, he moves to leave the bed to which Felicity objects.

“I’ll be right back. I just need to take care of this.”

Oliver vaguely gestures to his lower body and grins as Felicity blushes lightly.

“Oh, right. Yeah, of course. I’ll just be, uhm, here.”

He can’t resist leaning back down to give her a lingering kiss before heading towards the bathroom.

It’s not long before Oliver has slipped on a pair of boxers and is crawling back into bed and underneath the covers where Felicity has already begun to drift off to sleep, redressed in his t-shirt from earlier. The bed sinks as he climbs onto it and the motion causes her to stir, loving smile gracing her lips. He quickly reaches out to wrap and arm around Felicity’s small frame and pulls her against his chest. She sighs in contentment, snuggling further into him and placing a hand over his beating heart.

Exhaustion quickly makes itself known as Oliver sinks back into his bed, comforted by Felicity’s warmth pressed against his side. His eyes fall shut, sleep making them heavy and impossible to keep open. Maybe tonight there won’t be any nightmares.

He drifts off to the beating of Felicity’s heart and the sound of her soft voice whispering against his skin.

“I love you.”

Chapter Text

Felicity's outfit

....

Something soft and warm traces a path down his spine, leaving a pleasant tingling sensation in its wake. It’s an inconsistent path, not quite following the column of his vertebrae, with untimed pauses in between contact. For some reason the presence doesn’t startle Oliver or even put him on alert. Instead it comforts, lulls him into a hazy state between sleep and waking, blanketing him in an unfamiliar sense of security.

As the minutes pass the pressure becomes more insistent. The original, lone point of contact has become three that trace twists and turns along his muscled back without any seeming rhyme or reason. Oliver soaks it all in, humming lightly when the warmth reaches a particular sweet spot on the side of his ribcage.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

The voice is soft, quiet as if she could somehow burst this moment of serenity with any higher decibel. She should know that hers is the sweetest song he’s ever had the pleasure of hearing.

“Good morning, Felicity.”

His voice is rough with sleep stuck in the back of his throat. His eyes remain shut even as the rest of his body begins to stir, begins to register the light press of Felicity’s curves, her stomach and her breasts, against his naked back. It sends a thrill through him as images from the night before play through Oliver’s mind like an old time movie, pausing on one frame and then flickering to the next, taking time to appreciate the way she felt and sounded and moved beneath him. The memory of his name falling from her lips as she flew apart in his arms causes his body to stir.

Felicity, he belatedly realizes, has been placing tender kisses along his back and is now gently tracing over his shoulder blade with her fingertips. They follow the gentle slopes of the ink dragon that resides there, sending shivers through him when she reaches the swirling horns that curl into his back. Felicity must notice his reaction because she does it again, this time with her mouth. He shudders at the sensation, tightly fisting the pillow beneath his head.

With one final kiss to the center of his spine, Felicity lays herself completely on top of him, legs straddling Oliver’s lower back while her arms slide beneath him to wrap around his chest. She snuggles further into his back, releasing a contented sigh against his neck.

Oliver waits until their breaths synchronize and silence covers them to speak, savoring the moment before he breaks it.

“Shado had the same one. The tattoo. I got it to honor her as soon as I returned to the States, before I even came home.”

He doesn’t tell her that initially it had been a sort of penance, his cross to bear as a reminder for the things he’s done. He doesn’t tell her because that’s not what it feels like anymore.

“It’s beautiful. Intimidating, strong, complex…”

Felicity trails off as her fingers travel over the ink again.

“Like Shado.”

“Like you.”

Another brush of her lips over his skin.

The quietness of this moment, the absence of the guilt that usually drowns Oliver at the mere mention of his fallen comrade reassures him that telling her wasn’t a mistake. It was the furthest thing from that.

“Mine is for my father. I had it done on the tenth anniversary of his passing away. The arrowhead symbolizes strength and the arrow itself perseverance. My dad always encouraged me to go after what I wanted, shoot straight and fight the good fight with a smile on my face. So when he passed away I needed something to remind me of that. It was a necklace for awhile, some cheap piece I found in a consignment store that my mom hated, but I wanted something more permanent so…”

He sometimes forgets that he’s not the only one who’s felt the pain of losing a loved one to the battles of war.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind talking about him so much anymore.”

Oliver shifts from beneath Felicity, reaching up an arm to pull her down off his back as he rolls to the side. It’s a swift motion that she clearly was not expecting if her small exclamation of surprise is anything to go by. He pauses in his move to wrap an arm around her waist when his actions cause her to wince.

“What’s wrong? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

Concern quickly clouds his face as Oliver checks Felicity over for any visible sign of injury.

“No. No, I’m fine. Just sore is all. That’s not your fault. I mean it is sort of; however, that would have happened with anyone with it being my first time and whatnot. Well, you’re a bit larger than average but you can’t help what you were born with. Not that I’m complaining because last night was incredible and wow please feel free to stop me at anytime.”

Leaning forward, Oliver presses a tender kiss to her lips, relishing the way Felicity melts into it before parting from her to lovingly brush his lips against her forehead.

“Why don’t you go hop in the shower? The warm water will help with the ache.”

Tracing a finger over the ridges of his abdomen, Felicity smiles coyly up at Oliver.

“Will you be joining me?”

He shivers beneath her wandering hand, just skimming Oliver’s body in a way that makes the hairs on his arms stand up and sends an electric current humming through his system. Felicity’s hand slides lower still and he just has enough time to grab her wrist as the tips of her fingers brush the cropping of soft hairs below his waistband.

“I thought you said you were sore.”

“I am. But you’re not.”

The words are whispered against his neck as Felicity leans in to place a slow, openmouthed kiss over Oliver’s pulse point. A sharp hiss of air makes its way through his teeth and his grip on her wrist tightens. As she kisses a path from his neck down his chest, Oliver attempts to remind himself of why it’s not okay to simply grab Felicity by the waist and push himself into her. It would be so easy, just to let her slide her hand inside and free him from his confines, to grasp at her tiny hips and lower her slowly, slowly onto his length.

So lost in the onslaught of desire, Oliver is taken by surprise when Felicity swirls her tongue over his nipple and takes it into her mouth.

“Felicity!”

“Mhmmmm?”

The vibrations from her hummed response resonate through his body and even though she doesn’t stay there for long, the feeling remains with him. Felicity begins to steadily descend the contours of his abdomen, pausing every once and awhile to lave her tongue over a particularly sensitive spot. It takes her licking down Oliver’s defined pelvic muscle for him to finally put a stop to it, reaching down to cup Felicity’s cheek in his palm and guiding her to look at him.

“As much as I’ve fantasized about you doing that, your comfort is more important to me.”

With a roll of her eyes, Felicity slides back up Oliver’s body to kiss him hard on the mouth, leaving them both slightly short of breath.

“You know this whole chivalry thing is great and all, but sooner or later you’re going to have to stop treating me like fine china.”

Felicity slips away from him and off the bed, groaning at the movement to which Oliver gives her a pointed look.

“Okay, so maybe I underestimated how sore I am. But that still doesn’t give you an out. You better be naked and in that shower with me in ten minutes or else.”

“Are you threatening me?”

There’s a lilt in his voice as Oliver fights to keep the smile from growing on his face. Felicity continues making her way towards the bathroom, pausing to throw a flirtatious smile over her shoulder as she pulls his shirt up and over her head. Immediately, Oliver is captivated by the bare expanse of her back and the curve of her ass, his half hard length twitching at the sight.

“Ten minutes.”

Then she disappears behind the bathroom door.

It doesn’t take very long for him to scramble off the bed and start following after her. However, the buzzing of his phone draws Oliver’s attention before he can reach the bathroom. Quickly rifling through the pockets of his pants, which had been unceremoniously discarded onto the floor last night, he finds the device along with several text alerts.

Is Felicity with you? I came looking for her this morning and she wasn’t in her room.

Oliver, is everything okay?

Damn it, Oliver. Answer me or I’m coming over.

The texts were all from Digg, the last one sent nearly fifteen minutes ago. Oliver is quick to respond, thumbs moving dexterously over the touchscreen.

Sorry. Just woke up. She’s with me and she’s okay.

The sound of the shower water running floats through the open door of the bathroom to his ears and Oliver is about to put his phone away to join Felicity when his screensaver catches his eye.

It’s a picture of him, Tommy, and Laurel, taken by one of the photographers at his homecoming bash. They’re all smiling and happy to be together, happy to be alive. It’s such a contrast to where they’re at now that it brings an uncomfortable tightness to his chest. He hasn’t heard from Tommy since two nights ago.

The absence of his best friend hits Oliver like a freight train. They may not have seen each other as much these past couple of weeks, but they still talked, grabbed dinner or a drink when they could. To have that connection completely cut off so suddenly is almost sickening. He needs his best friend, now almost more than ever.

Without realizing it, Oliver pulls up Tommy’s contact information and presses the call button. The phone rings and rings and rings until the voicemail answers. He hangs up, tries again, this time going straight to voicemail halfway through the second ring.

“Heeellllo. You’ve reached Tommy Merlyn. I can’t get to the phone right now so leave a message and I’ll get back to you when I have a minute!”

The beep on the other end of the phone signals the start of the recording but Oliver doesn’t say a word. He braces himself, taking a deep breath in before blowing it out slowly and beginning to speak.

“Hey. Tommy. It’s, uh, it’s Oliver. I’m sure you know that. Listen, I can’t keep going on not talking to you. Can we just meet up somewhere to talk? I know you’re mad and probably think a whole slew of horrible things about me and my relationship, but please just give me a chance to explain. You’re my best friend. I can’t lose you, at least not without trying to fix this. Please, call me back.”

His thumb hovers over the red ‘end’ button on the screen for a moment before tapping on it and effectively dropping the call. A shuddering sigh escapes his mouth, chest weighed down by the obvious way his best friend chose to ignore him. They’ve never really fought like this before and Oliver doesn’t know what to do. Sure, they had disagreements in the past, but nothing that couldn’t be settled with an apology and a good time.

“Oliver?”

Felicity’s voice echoes off the tiles of the shower and through the bathroom, out to the bedroom where Oliver is still staring dejectedly at his phone. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts before answering.

“Coming!”

With one last glance at his background, Oliver clicks the button to lock his phone, the screening fading to black. He drops it down onto the bed before striding toward the bathroom, stripping out of his boxer briefs on his way and with them, for the time being, his worries over his disapproving best friend.

….

A loud knock on the, thankfully closed, bedroom door stirs Oliver and Felicity from their late afternoon nap. After their shower together, one that stayed within the PG-13 zone once they discovered how truly sore Felicity was, the two had fallen into bed together and almost immediately drifted back to sleep. These past few days were long and taxing ones and neither one of them realized how drained they were until the opportunity to sleep presented itself.

Oliver is quicker to respond to the intrusion than Felicity, automatically shifting in bed to place his body in front of hers as his eyes scan their surroundings.

“Sorry to burst your little love bubble over here but something’s come up. So make yourselves decent and get out here.”

“Oh God…”

Felicity groans beside him and Oliver just catches a glimpse of her heated cheeks before they disappear beneath the covers along with the rest of her. An amused chuckle escapes him as he leans closer to the general location of her head.

“What’s the matter?”

“Digg knows.”

“Knows that you’re here? Yes. I told him so he wouldn’t start worrying.”

With a huff, Felicity folds the comforter away from her face and gives Oliver a blank stare.

“No, I mean he knows. He knows that you and I did the horizontal mambo last night and basking in the morning after glow. This is so embarrassing. Not that you’re embarrassing or that I’m embarrassed we had sex. No, that was great, really great, excellent even. That thing with your hips? A-plus, ten out of ten would recommend. What is embarrassing is that he shows up here less than twenty-four hours after and just knows.”

Felicity slides out of bed, feet hitting the carpeted floor with a dull thud, and searches the room for her clothing before her eyes widen in realization.

“And our, well your, clothes are all over the floor! Oh my God!”

Amused affection encompasses Oliver as Felicity buries her face in her hands, cheeks hot with embarrassment. He doesn’t use the term adorable often but if there ever were a time to, this would be it.

Pushing himself off the bed, Oliver makes his way over to stand in front of the petite blonde, gently prying her hands from her face so that he can cup both her cheeks in his large palms. For a moment he’s overcome by just how small she looks like this, his fingers almost overlapping at the nape of her neck while his thumbs stroke back and forth across the tops of her cheeks. So tiny, so fragile and yet so strong in all the ways that matter most. Remarkable.

“It’ll be fine. Digg isn’t going to say anything. He respects people’s personal business.”

Pulling her forward, Oliver revels in the way Felicity moves with him, her hands sliding up his arms to encircle his wrists and steady herself. Their lips are just a whisper away, his nose lightly bumping the glasses she slipped back on after their shower.

“Plus, he knows I’m insanely in love with you.”

Oliver closes the distance between them, mouths melding against one another’s in a slow kiss that ends up a little more heated than he intended. By the time either one of them pulls away, they’re both pressed against each other and panting softly. Oliver opens his eyes first, taking in Felicity’s swollen lips and mussed hair, the tantalizing flush that starts at her cheeks and spreads down her neck. The sight causes him to groan.

“I need to go get you your clothes or we’re never going to leave this room.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

Another knock on the door, this one more adamant than the last, prevents him from responding.

“Listen, I’m really not trying to put a damper on your morning of bliss but it can’t wait. Karen’s legal team called. They want us out there tomorrow.”

The words have an effect on them equivalent to a bucket of ice water.

“We’ll be out in a minute.”

No more than sixty seconds later, Oliver and Felicity, both fully dressed in their own clothing, are situated on the sofa in his living room, Diggle seated in the loveseat beside them. The older man has their full attention as he explains what’s happening.

“As both of you know, I’ve been discussing security matters with Karen’s team these past few days in order to ensure that nothing will happen while we’re in Central City. Well, they contacted me this morning, about half an hour ago actually, to inform me that they’ve got it covered and want us there tomorrow afternoon so that the deposition can take place first thing Monday morning.”

Silence falls over the room as the information sinks in.

“Tomorrow? That’s… okay, yeah, a lot sooner than I thought but the sooner the better I guess. Just get it over with, like ripping off a Band-Aid.”

Oliver has to swallow his protest, the words sliding down his throat and leaving behind an acidic taste. After everything that happened last night, all he wants to do is be with Felicity. But like it always does, the world outside has other plans for them. He just wishes that for once, things would stop moving and allow him to breathe and enjoy being happy.

“Oliver? You haven’t said anything.”

Sighing heavily, Oliver shakes his head to dispel his distressful thoughts, transitioning into an all business mode.

“Sorry. I was just thinking through a few things. We’ll pack up our stuff and leave in the morning.”

He tries to speak with as much detachment as possible, but his worries and the tension that has set in must be visible because a small, soft hand fits into the palm of his own and squeezes lightly in an offer of comfort.

“We’ll leave in the morning then.”

….

“Hi. We have a reservation under the last name Queen, first name Oliver.”

The concierge behind the hotel desk gives Oliver a friendly smile before quickly typing the name in the system. A few more mouse clicks and the man starts to read off the screen.

“Here we are. We have you down for two adjoining rooms. One king and two queens, is that right, Mr. Queen?”

“Yes, that’ correct.”

“Great. I’m just going to need to see the credit card on file and…”

As the man moves through the usual formalities, Oliver takes his time to survey the lobby. It’s a nice hotel in Central City, fairly close to the attorney’s office they’re going to tomorrow morning, and even though it’s decently sized the security is tight. The reputation it has for discretion and exclusivity is one of the main reasons why they decided to stay here. Diggle and Felicity stand off to the side with their bags, her brightly colored lipstick-print suitcase contrasting drastically with the boys’ black and gray pieces. The pair is engaged in a lighthearted conversation, Digg laughing at something Felicity says as she punctuates it with a wave of her arm.

“Here you go, Mr. Queen. Everything is all set. Enjoy your stay and please don’t hesitate to call us here at the front desk if you need anything.”

With a polite smile and a thank you Oliver takes the room keys offered to him and walks over to where Felicity and Digg are standing. The blonde genius swivels her head to look at him, ponytail flipping over her shoulder in one fluid motion and causing her golden curls to bounce against the top of her back.

“Everything all set?”

“One king sized bed for you and two queens for me and Diggle.”

Oliver hands first her then Digg a small manila envelope with their room keys tucked safely inside. Felicity looks slightly disappointed at the news until he gives her a small wink. It’s more than enough explanation.

“Alright, let’s head up to our rooms and regroup. Your heart eyes are coming out.”

“I am a thirty-year-old member of the Army Reserve. I don’t have heart eyes.”

Diggle rolls his eyes as he signals for the bellhop, who was politely waiting a few feet to the side, to come help them with the luggage cart as the trio begins to make their way towards the elevators.

“Sure you don’t, Oliver.”

The conversation ends there as they all board the elevator and make their way up to their rooms on the sixth floor. It doesn’t take but ten minutes before the three of them are congregated in Oliver and Digg’s room, bags unloaded and the bellhop given a nice tip on his way out. Felicity pulls out her tablet, taps on it in between swiping motions, and then nods her head when she finds whatever she was looking for.

“I compiled a list of evidence we have and explanations as to why we do. Some of it is simplified tech jargon and I may have left out the… not so one hundred percent legal parts but I think it’s pretty solid. Take a look.”

Turning the tablet around, Felicity slides it across the table they’re gathered around for the two men to see. Oliver had been expecting some kind of bullet pointed list of evidence and explanation, but instead he finds a flow chart, indicating what to say and when and in some small side notes how. Some of them are more personal than others and it reminds him of the books he found in the tree house on the Queen property. The memory brings a small smile to his face.

“As you can see, I’ve left out the part about you two researching Bertinelli and started it with me making the connection between what I heard at dinner and the suspicions the police had. Then some basic details about my mother and Solvate and the personal files she had me copy. I included some of her bank statements that were encrypted but since we share blood and a family name I don’t think it will cause any legal problems but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

It’s a little concerning, the way Felicity is so willing to give herself up in order to bring Bertinelli down, to lessen the blow for her mother. But given what they know now, the only other choice would be to live in fear and guilt, knowing they could have done something but chose not to. Oliver knows what that feels like and he would never wish it upon anyone.

“So that’s it then? Present the evidence and then take it from there?”

Diggle sounds a bit more skeptical about the plan, concern evident in his tone.

“Well, no. First, I want to talk to my mother.”

If someone were to drop a pin in the room, they would probably be able to hear it hit the floor. Oliver exchanges a cautious glance with Digg before turning back to face Felicity.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not going to expose a billion dollar embezzlement plot that she was involved in without telling her first. She doesn’t have to like my decision but I think she should still know about it before I talk to the lawyers.”

“If that’s what you want to do…”

“It is.”

Her gaze bounces back and forth between the two men, eyes filled with steely resolve that both of them know better than to question.

“Okay. Then Digg and I will be there to offer support.”

“They won’t let us sit in on the deposition but they will let us sit outside the room to wait for you. The legal office is providing you with their own personal security detail once we get there in the morning to sit in with you and stay with us for the remainder of our time in Central. His name is Rob Teller, checks out just fine with me.”

Felicity snatches up her tablet again and taps across the screen a few more times without looking up.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Rob is short for Robert, right? And Teller, T-e-l-l-e-r?”

A few more swipes and taps across the tablet and Felicity sets the piece of technology aside, seemingly content with whatever she set up.

“I have a few programs on there that will dig up some information on this guy. I trust you, Digg, I do, but this will give me some peace of mind and distract me a little.”

Just as Oliver moves to comfort Felicity, her phone starts vibrating on the wooden table, his sister’s picture popping up on the screen. The blonde quickly snatches it up and stands from her chair, hitting the answer button as she quickly addresses Oliver and Diggle.

“I was supposed to call Thea when we got here. She’s probably going to have my head on a platter. I need to take this.”

Without another word, Felicity turns to walk through the door into her room, pushing it almost shut behind her as she greets Thea on the other end.

Sighing heavily, Oliver sits back in his seat and drags a hand over his face.

“I don’t like this. We’re putting her in more danger.”

His worries, fears are simple but the foundation behind them is far from it. Digg understands that better than almost anyone. Felicity may know what happened, but she wasn’t there when it happened. Not like Diggle was.

“Oliver, we’re not putting Felicity in any more danger than she already is. This is her choice. She would do this whether or not we agreed to come with her and you know that.”

Frustrated, Oliver stands from his seat and crosses the room to the window, looking out over the busy city streets below. Taxi cabs and town cars whirl by, an external mirror of his internal turmoil.

“I know I just… Isn’t there some other way to do this?”

“You and I both know this is the best plan we’ve got.”

Oliver’s eyes shut tight for a moment at hearing the truth, fists clenched by his sides as he whispers just loud enough for his friend to hear.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to her.”

A heavy, comforting hand lands on his shoulder and squeezes.

“She’s not Shado.”

There it is. His greatest fear, that Felicity will some day meet the same fate Shado did and he won’t be able to do anything to prevent it. The circumstances are far from being the same as they were overseas, but home has its own dangers.

“I’m going to scope out the hotel and the perimeter. Give you guys some time to… whatever. I’ll be back in an hour.”

The weight on his shoulder disappears as Digg steps away and gathers a few things before leaving the room, door closing tightly behind him. Felicity’s voice can be faintly heard from the other room and Oliver listens in for her tone, gauging if now is a good time to go in or not. She sounds relaxed, if not a little bit tired so he gives her a few minutes on the line before walking over and gently pushing the door open.

Felicity turns her head at the sound of Oliver’s entrance and gives him a small smile before indicating for him to join her on the bed.

“Thea, we’ve been over this. There is absolutely no reason why you need to be here right now. I know you’re worried about everything but it’s all going to be fine.”

She’s sitting crisscross in the middle of the bed, pink heels in a pile on the floor and picking absentmindedly at the fleece throw blanket in front of her. Oliver quickly slips off his shoes before climbing in behind her, leaning back against the headboard as not to interrupt her conversation.

“I promise to call you if anything happens… Yeah, I know Moira isn’t thrilled about it. I talked to her last night when I came to gather my things. But ultimately it’s my decision and since I’m a legal adult now she can’t do anything to stop me.”

That spikes Oliver’s interest. He wasn’t aware that Felicity and his mother had talked. Obviously she would have told his family where she was going but whether that conversation was shallow or in depth was all up to Felicity. From the sound of things it was the latter.

“Okay. I love you, too. Bye.”

With a soft outbreath, she hangs up and tosses the phone towards the edge of the bed before moving to situate herself between Oliver’s slightly parted legs, her back pressed against his front. Automatically his arms move to circle her waist and pull her in tight. Felicity leans back further into his hold, eyes falling shut as she turns her head to nuzzle the place where his neck and shoulder meet. Gentle fingers lightly trace over his forearms, causing small goose bumps to break out cross his skin.

“You talked to my mother?”

Felicity pauses in her ministrations, bright blue eyes opening to look up at him.

“Yeah, I did. She wasn’t exactly thrilled that you were coming with me for this but she understands it’s about my security more than almost anything else.”

“And has… Tommy said anything to you?”

A small wave of sadness passes through her gaze, answering his question without words. Oliver glances away for a moment, looking back out the window of the hotel room.

“I don’t want to talk about that right now. As a matter of fact, I don’t really want to talk about anything.”

Shifting in his lap, Felicity moves to place a kiss over the sensitive spot behind his ear. The action sends a shiver through Oliver as his body begins to switch gears on him. His mind quickly follows suit when Felicity’s lips travel a path to his mouth, tongue seeking entrance almost immediately. He groans into her open mouth as she rakes a hand through his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. The enthusiasm with which they taste and tease each other steadily intensifies until Felicity uses the hand she has at the base of Oliver’s neck to yank his head back and explore the underside of his jaw.

They should talk. Lord knows they have more than enough topics to go through. But right now their need for each other is greater than their need for spoken communication. And as Felicity licks and sucks and bites at his neck, the rest of the world starts to drift away. His mother, Bertinelli, Tommy… all of it disappears and is replaced by his girl and he knows that’s what this is doing for her too.

Deft fingers make fast work of the buttons on his shirt and Oliver is quick to help her remove it completely, along with the t-shirt he has on underneath. As their mouths meet once again, Oliver grabs onto Felicity’s waist and hauls her into his lap. His hands move beneath the flowing material of her skirt to grab onto her thighs, blunt fingernails digging into her flesh and causing Felicity to gasp against his throat. She bites down on the skin there in retaliation as her hands hastily move to undo his belt buckle while at the same time Oliver reaches to remove the cardigan from her shoulders. They get caught up for a second as Felicity hastily pulls her arms out of the offending article of clothing but move past it when she leans back in to meld her mouth against Oliver’s for a searing kiss.

There’s a sort of urgency in the way they move, desperation combining with desire that heightens every sensation. Each pass of her hands or press of her lips against his skin is like a white-hot brand, marking him as hers. It’s all teeth and tongues and bruising force but neither of them cares, so consumed with the need for one another, the need to forget everything else.

Their mouths part in a gasp and Felicity wastes no time in kissing a path down his chest, sliding her body further down the bed. This time when she moves to undo his pants and push them down his waist, Oliver doesn’t stop her. He does, however, offer her an out.

 “You know you don’t have to, right?”

“Oliver, you are the only guy I have ever known to attempt talking his girlfriend out of going down on him.”

“I just want you to know that there’s no pressure on you – Shit!”

The feel of Felicity’s tiny hand wrapping around his bare length cuts Oliver off midsentence. Her hold is gentle, a little on the lighter side but still firm enough to send him reeling, sharply sucking in air through his teeth. Already Oliver can feel a coil tightening in his gut as she begins to slide her hand along his shaft, pausing at the tip to swirl her thumb around it before moving back down again. He takes a moment of clarity to observe her face, curious expression in place as she experimentally tightens her fist around him and picks up pace. It’s a little bit erratic and missing that something to really get him going, so Oliver reaches down to encompass Felicity’s hand in his and help guide her movements. The increased pressure and rhythm cause his eyes to slide shut as a pleasure-filled groan fills the air around them.

“Is this… am I doing it right?”

“Fuck yes.”

The words definitely do not escape him in breathy relief. Oliver Queen doesn’t do breathy while getting intimate with anyone, ever. But it’s not just anyone, it’s Felicity. So yeah, maybe there is a little bit of air to his response.

Without warning, Felicity leans down and traces the vein up the side of his shaft with her tongue, from base to tip. Oliver’s eyes slam shut against the sensation, head falling back into the plush hotel pillows as his hands fist in the sheets below him. The heat of her breath against his cock cause Oliver to shudder and a strangled groan escapes him when she presses her lips against his tip. He can feel her hesitancy in the way she moves, careful and calculated, taking a moment before each point of contact. It doesn’t turn him off in the least, only serving to enamor him further and stoke the flames of desire threatening to consume him.

The second she takes him into her mouth, Oliver nearly loses it. He doesn’t hit the back of her throat and she doesn’t do anything in particular that would stand out from any other blow job he’s ever been on the receiving end of. But the fact that it’s Felicity doing this to him has Oliver harder and hotter than he can remember ever being in the past for this sort of thing. And embarrassingly enough, this sort of thing had happened to him a lot, granted at the time it was anything but embarrassing for him.

Pulling himself together, Oliver chances a look down at Felicity. The sight in front of him is enough to make a sinner out of a saint. She’s on all fours, forearms pressing into his sinewy thighs and hands gripping at his pronounced hipbones as her head dips slightly to test the waters. From this angle he can just see down the front of her dress, giving him a very good view of her subtle but still present cleavage. Her brightly painted lips wrapped around his cock is one of the most erotic things he’s ever seen and when Felicity glance up from him behind her thick framed glasses, loose pieces of hair falling in front of her face, Oliver can’t help but growl out a curse.

Felicity hums around him as she surges forward to take him further into her mouth before sliding back to the tip then repeating the motion again. As she starts to find a comfortable rhythm, Oliver can’t resist reaching a hand out to cradle her head and thread his fingers through her hair. When there’s no protest from her, he begins to gently urge her on while attempting to control the longing to press forward until he reaches the back of her throat.

“Fuck, baby. That’s so good.”

In response, Felicity takes him deeper, hollowing out her cheeks as she goes. Oliver groans loudly and uses his hand to steady her as he rocks just a little bit into her mouth. Then, in a move that surprises even him, Felicity swirls her tongue around the head of his erection and moves a hand to cup his balls. It’s nearly his undoing.

“Shit! ‘Licity!”

He’s helpless to resist thrusting in between her bright pink, full lips. For her part Felicity only startles slightly at the motion before continuing her ministrations. The obscene sound of her mouth sliding up and down his cock blends with Oliver’s panting and wanton moans. Again she hums around him and it almost proves to be too much. Tightening his grip in her hair, Oliver can’t stop himself from pushing into her mouth one last time before pulling out, Felicity’s lips making a soft popping sound as his cock leaves her mouth completely.

The look she gives him, head tilted to the side, glasses askew in front of her lust-darkened eyes, lips full and wet, almost makes Oliver regret his decision. Almost.

“Why’d you stop me?”

“I want to be inside you when I come.”

With a small whimper, Felicity quickly closes the distance between them to press a clumsy, desperate kiss against his mouth. He can taste himself on her lips and it calls to some primal part of him that gives his movements just a little bit more of an edge. Felicity answers in kind, biting his lower lip and dragging her nails down his naked back as their tongues battle for dominance.

Her actions say she’s ready but Oliver wants to be sure, so he slides a hand in between them to cup her still-clothed sex and groans at how damp the thin cotton material is. Quickly moving Felicity’s underwear aside, Oliver slides a finger between her damp folds, spreading her wetness around as his thumb finds her clit.

“Ah! Oliver!”

He loves that he can do this to her, that her body is so responsive to his touch. If it were possible, Oliver would spend the rest of his days bringing pleasure to this woman on top of him. Circling her sensitive nub one, two, three more times, he watches as Felicity’s head falls back in pleasure, lips parting in a silent cry for more. Her nails bite at the muscles of his shoulders in an attempt to steady herself as a finger slides inside of her.

“Oliver, I need – oh!”

“What do you need, Felicity? Tell me.”

“I need you inside me.”

Oliver groans as Felicity says the words, her desire-ridden gaze burning into his own.

“Your wish, my command.”

A small sound of protest escapes her as he slides his hand out from beneath her skirt but is quickly cut off by a quick and dirty slide of his mouth against hers. One of his hands reaches behind her, searching for his pants at the foot of the bed. It’s nearly an impossible feat with Felicity shifting and rocking in his lap and Oliver is forced to drag his mouth from hers so that he can focus on the task at hand. Finally he’s able to locate his wallet and fumbles only a second in retrieving the foil wrapper from its place in the center pocket.

“Hurry, Oliver, please.”

The neediness in her breathy plea overwhelms him and Oliver is quick to slide the condom down his length, shivering at the sensation. Venturing a hand back beneath her skirt, he grasps the cotton material that’s coming between him and where he wants, no needs to be and drags it down her legs. Felicity shifts to the side when he meets resistance and aids in sliding the offending undergarment the rest of the way off her legs, dress remaining on the entire time. As Oliver reaches for the hem of her skirt, Felicity grabs it and yanks the dress up and over her head in one swift motion, glasses sliding down her nose and ponytail loosening further in the process. He only has a short amount of time to take in the sight before her hair is set free completely and her glasses removed. Felicity swings a leg back over Oliver’s lap and positions herself above him.

“Like this?”

“Yeah, like this.”

Then she’s guiding him to her entrance and lowering herself down ever so slowly as he fills her completely.

Felicity’s lips part in a loud gasp at the sensation to which Oliver grunts in response. This angle is so different from their first time together two nights ago, allowing him to reach places inside her that no one has before and he knows that neither of them is going to last long. The thought is only solidified when Felicity experimentally rocks her hips into his and releases a satisfied moan in response. Oliver’s hands grab onto her waist to guide her motions and assist her movements as she sucks in a breath through her parted lips.

“It feels really good having you inside me. Ah!”

Felicity braces her hands on his chest for leverage as she slides up his cock before settling herself back down. She repeats the motion only this time Oliver meets her halfway, pulling a sharp cry of his name from her mouth. Loud exclamations and incoherent noises of pleasure permeate the air as the two find a rhythm that builds and builds on the tension in their cores. Oliver plants his feet firmly on the mattress to give him more power behind the rolling of his hips. The position also allows Felicity to lean back against his legs, changing the angle of where they’re joined.

“Shit, right there. That’s good. That’s so, so good.”

Oliver grunts in agreement and picks up the pace; every once in awhile checking to make sure that he’s not hurting her. She must realize what he’s doing because after the fourth or fifth time that he slows them down and surveys her features, Felicity halts their movements completely.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop checking on me like you’re expecting me to break at any second. If you were hurting me I’d tell you. So stop treating me like a porcelain doll and fuck me, Oliver.”

Felicity tightens around him and swivels her hips at the last two words, sending Oliver reeling as he jerks up into her. The near silent ‘yes’ that hisses through her teeth and the harsh grinding of her hips against his urges him on. His large, callused hands travel from her waist to roughly palm the curve of her ass, encouraging Felicity as she rides him.

“You want me to fuck you?”

Her head bobs up and down in an enthusiastic nod, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she continues to move on top of him.

“Hold onto the headboard.”

Felicity does as told, body stretching out above him in her effort to grab the wooden headboard behind his head. Oliver quickly reaches up to free her breasts from the still-present confines of her cotton bra. The minute they are in view, he takes one of her hardened peaks into his mouth, rolling the other between his thumb and index finger as Felicity cries out.

Their hips roll and press against each other, seeking out an end to the onslaught of pleasure crashing through them. Moving to pay her other breast the same attention with his mouth, Oliver reaches between them with his right hand to locate Felicity’s sensitive bundle of nerves and press on it.

“God! Oliver!”

That’s what he wants to hear. All the stimulation from earlier has Oliver on the edge and he needs to get her there along with him. His thumb circles her clit, teeth grazing the top of her chest and stubble roughly scraping across her skin, leaving angry red in his wake. Soon enough Felicity’s movements take on a frantic pace and that coupled with her desperate little ‘ah, ah, ah!’ lets him know that she’s almost there.

Pulling his mouth away from her, Oliver leans to whisper in her ear.

“This is what you asked for. So come on, baby. Come. With. Me.”

Oliver gives a particularly intense thrust with each final word, moving his hand from her core to pull her hard against his body.

“Oh my God! Oliver!”

“Fuck! Felicity!”

Her walls clench around him, milking his cock as they fall over the edge together. And that’s exactly what it feels like, free falling. She’s there and he’s there and the rest is just empty space whooshing by as they plunge into complete ecstasy.

For a moment everything is dark and blissful; the feel of sweet, sweet surrender enveloping them like a slow burning flame. This is what they needed and were so desperate for, a reprieve from the world where the only thing that matters is the two of them. It’s the epitome of euphoria.

They continue to lazily rock against one another, trembling in the aftershocks of their lovemaking until finally, Felicity collapses on top of his chest. Her breathing comes in heavy pants against his throat and Oliver reaches a hand up to softly run through her hair as he too attempts to regain his breath.

“Holy shit… that was amazing… Does it always feel like that? After the first time I mean? Because if so… I’m going to need to mark off some recovery time on my schedule.”

An airy chuckle escapes him at Felicity’s comment and he can’t help moving to press a kiss against her hair.

“Only with you.”

“The other girls are missing out.”

“What other girls?”

She beams against his skin at the response, lips gently caressing the place where his heart beats rapidly in his chest for her.

“You know, you really do have heart eyes sometimes.”

Oliver emits a good-natured groan at the comment but doesn’t protest further.

Because truth is, he knows he does. And he knows they’re only for her.

Chapter Text

Felicity's outfit

....

“I changed my mind. I don’t want to do this anymore. Let’s go.”

Oliver stands outside of the town car, holding the door open for Felicity who is sitting in the backseat, nervously tugging on her orange blazer as she surveys the area outside of the detention center. She’s been second-guessing herself the entire ride over, although not for the reasons he wishes she were.

“What if she doesn’t want to see me? Does she even remember what I look like? Of course she does. She hasn’t been living in a cave, just a prison cell for a few months.”

“Felicity.”

The blonde jerks her gaze towards him, worry evident in her eyes before she subtly shakes her head to clear the thoughts running around inside. Grabbing her purse, Felicity squares her shoulders and steps out of the car.

“Sorry. I’m ready. Let’s go.”

As she moves to walk past him, Oliver reaches out to gently grasp Felicity’s forearm. Her actions instantly halt and she turns to look at him questioningly.

“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. We can tell them you got sick, put it off a few days.”

Selfishly, he wants her to take the out. This whole plan has him on edge, instincts telling him that something is bound to go wrong.

“Yes I do, Oliver. We’ve talked about this. I’m just nervous to see her after everything that’s happened.”

“I know. I just can’t help but think that this is a bad idea.”

Felicity releases a soft sigh and shifts her stance so that she’s fully facing him, placing a comforting hand on the inside of his elbow while a small smile graces her lips.

“And I acknowledge that. But this is my life and ultimately my decision.”

“Ms. Smoak, Mr. Queen, we need to head inside now if we want to be on time.”

Digg’s soft reminder puts the exhausted conversation to bed. It’s not a new topic of discussion for any of them and Oliver knows his protests are futile. Felicity’s mind is made up. A bout of nerves isn’t going to deter her from her goal. She’s stubborn in that sense and even though this is a time during which he wishes she wasn’t, Oliver can’t help but admire her perseverance.

A small hand slips into his for a moment, squeezing tightly before falling away as Felicity takes a step back from him. The whole exchange lasts less than ten seconds, but the warmth in Oliver’s hand remains for much longer. It’s a reminder that they are going into this together. The two of them along with Digg are a team of sorts, providing support and comfort in their own ways when needed. And right now, Felicity needs his support more than he needs hers.

Keeping that in mind, Oliver falls into line with Felicity and Diggle, the older man on her right while Oliver flanks her left. The trio begins their journey, crossing the parking lot to enter the prison facility holding one Karen Smoak.

It takes them a few minutes to check in and go through security. Oliver doesn’t miss the way Diggle side-eyes him when the metal detector goes off and he has to show the guard Felicity’s ring that’s currently hanging around his neck on a chain. It’s not a look of judgment or disdain, just one of interest and somewhat calculating. But that’s his friend’s expression a majority of the time. Always observing, always assessing.

“Ms. Smoak.”

At the sound of her name, both Felicity and the two men beside her turn towards the voice. An older woman with ashen blonde hair fashioned into a bob and deep, cutting eyes walks towards them. She has a pleasant smile on her face as she reaches them and extends a hand in Felicity’s direction.

“Hi, Jean Loring, your mother’s primary lawyer on the case.”

Felicity takes up the woman’s offered hand and shakes it in greeting.

“Hi, I’m Felicity. Smoak. But you obviously knew that. These are Oliver – “

“Oh I know who they are. Oliver Queen, son of Robert and Moira Queen of Queen Consolidated, number twenty-three on the Fortune 500. Also a former member of the U.S. Army recently returned from an extended, five-year tour in Afghanistan. Not always known for abiding by the law but I’m sure you’re a hell of a stand up guy now, Mr. Queen.”

Oliver tries not to flinch at the last sentence. Anything that brings up his past is a sore spot for him but it’s the mention of his character at present that has him shifting in his stance. Most people wouldn’t say such things of him if they knew what he had been doing this morning, no less than three hours ago. Or who he had been doing to be more precise.

Nonetheless Oliver steps forward and politely takes the woman’s outstretched hand before her swift gaze cuts over to Diggle.

“And you must be John Diggle, bodyguard for Ms. Smoak and a former member of the U.S. Army as well. It’s nice to put a name to the face.”

Digg’s greeting is decidedly more pleasant than the one Oliver was met with.

“Likewise, ma’am.”

“Now that that is all out of the way, follow me.”

Turning sharply on her heels, Jean doesn’t even glance back as she begins to make her way down the hall. Felicity, Digg, and Oliver are all quick to follow her, exchanging a few glances as they go. They immediately fall back into their now habitual formation, Felicity in the middle with the two men on her sides. It’s something that at first Oliver had seen Felicity roll her eyes at. But now she merely accepts it, doesn’t even bat an eyelash.

“Now Ms. Smoak – “

“You can call me Felicity. If you want. That is. Ms. Loring.”

“As I was saying, Ms. Smoak, your mother is currently being moved to the visiting center. You’ll have fifteen minutes to talk to her before we take your witness statement in a separate room. I’m under the impression that whatever you have to say is a game changer or at least holds a great deal of significance. I can’t promise this is going to be quick and easy. In fact, plan on it being a few hours. We might have to call you in tomorrow for some more questioning. I hope your hotel reservations are extendable.”

Oliver’s head is swimming with the information and he can only imagine how Felicity is feeling. He glances over, attempting to read her features, and finds his girl staring straight ahead, chin up with a determined expression firmly in place. It isn’t as surprising as he thought it would be. Felicity is a fighter. She’s strong. She takes whatever life throws at her and chucks it right back full force.

“Of course neither Mr. Diggle nor Mr. Queen will be allowed in the questioning room with you as they aren’t witnesses or a member of the legal team. You will however, be accompanied by a security detail we have spoken about with Mr. Diggle already.”

“Robert Teller. I might have looked into him a little bit.”

The older woman glances at Felicity over her shoulder, amused yet somewhat approving smirk on her face.

“Yes. Our legal office partners with Central’s most renowned security division for our clients who desire a certain degree of discretion.”

Discretion? Oliver’s fists clench by his sides at how easily this woman disregards what Felicity has been going through, what she is still going through.

“I’m not trying to be rude here but this isn’t about discretion, Ms. Loring. This is about my safety. I don’t know if you’ve turned on the TV or read a newspaper or listened to the radio recently, but I’ve been shot at twice within the past two months, me specifically. The information I have in my possession is putting my life in serious peril, as is this entire case with my mother. I’m not some corrupt government official who needs a bodyguard to accompany him to brothels in the shadiest parts of town. I’m a college student whose name is out there on someone’s hit list. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that sounds like something that necessitates personal security.”

The clacking of high heels on linoleum ends quickly as the lawyer comes to a halt in front of a grey door. Her gaze quickly scans over Felicity, as if truly looking at her for the first time, assessing her. Whatever Jean finds must be enough because the look she gives the younger woman is almost approving in nature.

“Of course, Ms. Smoak. I didn’t mean to speak so frivolously of what you have been through. Clearly it is not something to be taken lightly, which is why we honored your bodyguard’s request for an additional detail.”

Felicity only nods her head in response before her attention shifts to a large, broad-shouldered man approaching them. He’s tall, taller than Oliver’s six-foot-one by at least two inches, and he’s sporting a grey, tailored suit. His olive skin is accompanied by even darker hair and Oliver doesn’t miss the gun holster secured to his leather belt.

“Speaking of, Ms. Smoak, Mr. Diggle, Mr. Queen, this is Mr. Robert Teller. He’s one of the best in his department, just transferred over from a firm on the east coast based in Washington, D.C. I’ve never had the chance to work with him personally but his transcripts and resume are some of the most impressive I’ve seen in his line of work.”

“You speak too highly of me, Jean. I’m just doing my job.” The man transitions his amiable grin from Jean to Felicity and briefly grasps her hand. “Hi, you must be Ms. Smoak. I’m very sorry to hear about your situation. It’s not something anyone, let alone a young lady such as yourself, should ever have to go through. I promise I’ll be close by at all times.”

Something in this man’s initial gaze triggers warning bells in Oliver’s head. The look in his eyes only lasts a fraction of a second, but it’s enough to put the former soldier on alert. Of course, he considers everything in the vicinity beside himself and Digg to be a threat to Felicity’s safety.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Teller. You can just call me Felicity.”

“Then please, call me Rob.”

“Okay, Rob. These are John Diggle and Oliver Queen, my personal detail from Starling and good friends of mine.”

Felicity takes care not to draw attention to either individual by introducing them together and under the same category, but it’s a futile attempt for nonchalance as Rob greets Oliver with one-sided familiarity.

“Ah yes, Mr. Queen. I’m a big fan of your company. The technology your Applied Sciences department is developing for DefenseTech is groundbreaking. It could change the entire weapons industry as we know it.”

“Seems like you’re pretty well informed there, Rob.”

“I’m known to read a newspaper every once in awhile.”

Oliver’s grip tightens around the bodyguard’s hand for a moment before releasing it and allowing the man to introduce himself to Digg. The feeling of unease has calmed but still gnaws at the pit of his stomach even as Teller takes a step back.

“Now that we have introductions out of the way, Ms. Smoak, are you ready to see Karen?”

“Like right now? This second? As in a ‘she is behind this door and once I open it there’s not turning back’ type thing?”

“That is part of what you came her for, right? Or have you changed your mind about seeing your mother? We haven’t got all day so I suggest you come to a decision quickly.”

Anyone looking at Felicity could see that she’s nervous. Her teeth tug at her full bottom lip, fingers absently running over the place where the ring situated on a chain around Oliver’s neck usually resides. The prospect of seeing her mother again is something Felicity has expressed her qualms about quite a few times since she made the choice to come here. They’ve been separated for so long… It’s a feeling Oliver can easily relate to.

“No, sorry. I just needed a moment. I’m ready to see her.”

Felicity moves to take another step towards the door with Digg and Oliver following closely behind. They’re stopped, however, when Jean raises a hand indicating for them to pause.

“I’m sorry but you can’t all go in there with her. The facility has a strict two-visitor policy unless under the age of four. One of you will have to stay out here while Ms. Smoak meets with her mother.”

It doesn’t take a genius to realize whom Felicity will ask to join her and Oliver is already moving closer to her when Digg speaks up.

“I’ll stay out here. The new guy and I need to talk about some details for your safety anyway.”

Felicity smiles gratefully at the older man, pushing up on her toes to place a quick kiss against his cheek.

“Thanks, John.”

“You need him more than you need me right now. Good luck.”

Oliver is the only one close enough to the pair to hear the exchange and it serves to remind him that his comrade has come to care for Felicity almost as much as he does. There’s not doubt in his mind that if it came to it, Diggle would take a bullet for this girl.

Stepping back, Felicity smooths a hand over her golden locks, slicked back in her signature ponytail. Her hands pull at the hem of her blazer and then travel down the length of her dress in apprehension, making sure that everything is perfectly situated.

“Hey.” Oliver waits until he has Felicity’s attention to continue. “It’s going to be fine. She’s your mother.”

“That’s exactly why I’m worried.”

“I know this is a little nerve-wracking, Ms. Smoak, but we really do need to get going. Visiting hours end in twenty minutes and if you want to get out of here at a decent hour, it’s in your best interest that we start the questioning as early as possible.”

Throwing a glare in the lawyer’s direction, Oliver inches closer still to Felicity.

“I know. I know. Let’s get this over with then, shall we?”

Jean swipes her ID in the keypad by the door, then signals for them to follow her inside. They walk through a small room with yet another metal detector and show their IDs to the guards before the woman guides them into a relatively empty room, filled with steel tables and overhead lighting. Inmates sit across from their loved ones, some talking animatedly and others taking part in somber exchanges. A woman to the side is playing with her baby across the table, held by a man with a dejected look on his face. And there, in a corner of the room, is a woman Oliver just barely recognizes as Karen Smoak.

It’s been years since he’s seen her in person but even Oliver can spot the obvious changes in her appearance. Her usually glowing, attention-demanding demeanor has dimmed along with the pallor of her skin, the white blonde hair he remembers always being perfectly in place pulled back into a ponytail, dark roots peeking out in front. But most of all she just looks tired.

Felicity comes to an abrupt stop beside him.

“Felicity?”

It’s like the older Smoak woman can hear Oliver from the opposite end of the room because her gaze snaps to where he and Felicity are standing as soon as the name escapes his lips. The two women stare at each other cautiously, assessing one another until Karen finally offers her daughter a sad smile.

“How am I supposed to be mad at her when she looks like that?”

“Maybe you don’t have to be.”

“Stop being rational and let me stew in my teenage angst.”

Despite the current surroundings, Oliver can’t help but release a brief laugh at Felicity’s reply even as he gently places a hand on her lower back to urge her forward. By the time the pair reaches Karen, Jean has already come to stand by the table, engaging the other woman in a low-voiced conversation. The lawyer abruptly ends whatever she was saying once Oliver and Felicity are within hearing distance.

Karen’s line of sight has not strayed far from her daughter since she first noticed her in the room. For a moment her icy cool gaze, the same color as Felicity’s but somehow completely different, briefly flickers to Oliver. Shock rolls across her features before they go decidedly blank, attention shifting back to the younger blonde at his side.

“Hi, darling.”

“Mom.”

There’s a tense beat of silence between them. Neither mother nor daughter knows exactly what to say, which is a rare occurrence for two women with such a penchant for talking. Karen is the one to finally break the silence.

“How are you?”

“Well considering I’ve been shot at twice, my mother is in jail, and I was almost run over by a taxi cab all within the past two months, I’d say I’ve been better.”

Karen sighs heavily before turning to address Jean by her side.

“Could you give us a minute? My daughter and I have a few things to discuss that I would like to keep as private and personal as possible given the current setting.”

The woman’s gaze moves to Oliver at the end of her statement, signaling that the request applies to him as well. He’s about to tell Felicity that he’ll be waiting a few feet away when she speaks up.

“Oliver stays.”

Felicity’s mother looks slightly taken aback by the sudden demand but nonetheless nods her head after a moment in acquiesce.

“Alright. Jean, a minute if you please?”

“Of course, Karen. I’ll go talk with Rob and Mr. Diggle about the proceedings and come back in a few minutes.”

With a comforting touch to Karen’s shoulder, Jean pivots on her feet and makes her way out of the visiting center. Her absence does nothing to ease the tension around the table. If anything, it makes it worse.

“Felicity, stop being so stubborn and take a seat. Standing on those heels cannot be comfortable.”

For a brief moment it seems like Felicity contemplates doing the exact opposite, just to spite her mother. Oliver gently nudges her side and the blonde finally complies, lowering herself into a chair across the table from Karen. He quickly takes a seat next to her in a show of support.

“I have to say, I’m a little surprised to find you here, Oliver. I heard you had returned from Afghanistan in one piece. I’m glad to see it. Although I am a little confused as to why you’re here with my daughter. Out of any of the Queens, I would have expected Thea to accompany her.”

“He’s here as a favor to me.”

“I see… And what kind of favor would that be exactly?”

There’s no implication in the words, just simple curiosity and Oliver is able to relax a little at that. At least he isn’t being extremely obvious about his feelings.

“I trust him to keep me safe.”

A shadow of sadness passes over Karen’s face at the declaration. She’s the reason Felicity is in danger. She’s the reason her daughter has a target painted on her back.

“I’ve been worried about you. Jean told me about what happened as soon as word got out. She assured me that you were okay and no bodily harm had been done but I needed to know. I needed to see you for myself. So thank you for coming here. I wasn’t too sure you would.”

“I didn’t come here because you asked me to.”

 “Oh. I thought…”

Karen’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, hands clasping together in front of her on the cool steel table. Her gaze searches Felicity’s questioningly, trying to discern the reason for her daughter’s visit. It doesn’t take long for realization to dawn over Karen, eyes widening for a fraction of a second before the collected façade Oliver associates her with is firmly back in place. Her icy gaze cuts to him as she leans forward onto the table.

“Oliver, would you kindly give my daughter and I a moment alone?”

“There’s no point, Mom. He knows, too.”

When the older woman responds, her voice is low and steady.

“What do you know, Felicity?”

In his peripheral Oliver observes the steady rise and fall of the younger woman’s chest before she speaks up.

“Everything. And I’m going to tell Jean.”

A beat passes between them; Felicity looking at her mother with steely resolve while Karen matches her with an equally determined stare of her own.

“Absolutely not.”

“You can’t control this. I found the information. I connected all the dots. I’m telling them.”

“Felicity, don’t be stupid. You know as well as I do that this is only putting you in more danger. Bertinelli is a powerful man. If you expose him, he will take you out. Just like me.”

Shock registers over both Felicity and Oliver’s features at that last bit of information. A small, near condescending smile spreads across Karen’s face at their surprise.

“I didn’t ended up in here because someone stumbled upon my transactions on accident. He leaked the information to eliminate me from the field and then used you to keep my mouth shut. So please, please don’t do this, Felicity. If something happened to you because of me I don’t know how I would live with myself. Take Oliver and your bodyguard and go back to Starling. This isn’t your war to fight.”

“Bertinelli made it my war when he shot at me and endangered the people I love.”

Delicate fingers slide along Oliver’s wrist, seeking out strength in the form of his callused hand, one he’s quick to flip over in invitation. Their fingers intertwine beneath the table and Oliver squeezes gently. The movement is subtle, going unnoticed by the woman sitting across from them.

“Felicity, don’t be foolish. This isn’t a game. He will find you and he will hurt you if you turn him in. I’m trying to look out for you in the best way that I can by giving myself up. I know I haven’t always been the best mother to you but this… this is nothing compared to your safety and wellbeing.”

Part of Oliver wants to agree. He wants Felicity to see the logic in what Karen is doing and saying, to realize that this is her life at stake and for once act selfishly in order to protect herself. But he knows she won’t. Felicity will always try to do what she thinks is right, despite the possible outcomes. It’s one of the many reasons he loves her.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t.”

“Baby, please –“

“I’ve already made up my mind. I just thought you should know before I told Jean.”

Felicity’s hold tightens in his grasp and Oliver begins to draw soothing circles over the top of her hand. Despite the surety in her voice, he knows this is hard for her. But she’s determined and he’s here to support her as much as he is to protect her.

“There’s absolutely nothing I can say to change your mind, is there?”

The younger blonde merely shakes her head in response, causing Karen to heavily exhale and slump back in her seat. The posture is alien on her body. Karen Smoak isn’t one for defeat or dejection.

“I can’t lose you, too.”

Felicity’s breath hitches slightly, tears beginning to shine behind her expressive eyes.

“You won’t.”

Then in a move surprising to everyone gathered around the table, Felicity pulls her hand from Oliver’s and reaches across the smooth expanse to hold onto her mother’s.

“I have to do this, Mom. It’s what Dad would do.”

A tear slips down Karen’s face, a sad smile coloring her features.

“You and your father, both so stubborn and always trying to do the right thing. Don’t you realize that’s what got him killed?”

Felicity takes a shuddering breath as hot tears of her own silently slide down her cheeks before she quickly brushes them away with her free hand.

“I know.”

The familiar sound of heels on linoleum alerts the group to Jean’s approach before she arrives at the table. Felicity and Karen pull away from each other in almost mirroring movements as the lawyer addresses them.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but visiting hours are about to end and we really do need to start the questioning, Ms. Smoak.”

“Right, okay. Let me just say goodbye.”

“Of course.”

Felicity turns back to face her mother but neither of them speaks, still not completely sure of what to say to each other. Eventually Karen breaks the silence.

“I may not be the best mother in the world but I love you, sweetheart. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I do. I love you, too, Mom.”

Another tear makes a track down Felicity’s face before she pushes her seat backwards in order to stand. Oliver rises along with her as a guard steps forward seemingly out of thin air, a pair of handcuffs in his grasp. He takes another stride towards Karen who in turn whirls around to face him.

“Could I please have a moment to hug my daughter before you slap those manacles around my wrists?”

The burly man contemplates the request and then nods his head.

“Sure. But make it quick.”

They don’t come together in a dramatic display of affection. Truth is they don’t even rush towards one another. Instead both Karen and Felicity take careful, measured steps until the space between them has been erased and all that’s left to do is fold their arms around one another. It’s awkward at first and even Oliver can feel the nervous energy between mother and daughter. But something shifts after a few moments and the two women melt into the embrace. Karen lifts a hand to smooth over her daughter’s hair as Felicity buries her face into the crook of her mother’s neck. From this angle Oliver can only see the older woman’s face, see her eyes falling shut as she breathes in deeply and exhales slowly.

The hug lasts a few seconds longer before they break apart, but not without exchanging whispered words that Oliver is too far away to hear. Then Felicity slips out of her mother’s hold and returns to his side as the guard moves to lock the handcuffs around Karen’s wrists and lead her away.

Oliver reaches for Felicity as she approaches him, hand settling on her shoulder to offer a supporting squeeze. To his surprise, however, the blonde falls into his chest, arms wrapping tightly around his waist as she hides her face into his shirt. Oliver responds in kind, immediately banding his muscled arms around her tiny shoulders and allowing Felicity to take comfort in his embrace. Her breathing is initially unsteady against his chest and Oliver knows she’s using this contact to keep it together. They break apart after an amount of time appropriate enough to be considered nothing more than comfort between close friends, not wanting to cause any suspicions.

As the two turn away to exit the room with Jean, Karen calls out behind them.

“Oliver.” He pauses, body slightly canted to face the older woman. “That’s my daughter you have right there. You better protect her with your life.”

With a solemn nod of agreement, Oliver pivots back around to face Felicity as her mother is guided out of the room by the prison guard. His hand settles on the small of her back as Jean leads them out of the visitation room. Small tremors rake through Felicity’s body, almost imperceptible, and Oliver wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and protect her from all the evils in the world that she never deserved to be acquainted with.

“Ms. Smoak, I understand this is a very… emotional time for you. But this inquiry will go best if you remain clinical, unattached. We won’t be asking you any particularly in depth questions today seeing as we haven’t the slightest idea what to prepare ourselves for. Like I mentioned earlier, we will most likely need to call you in tomorrow for further testimony.”

“Okay.”

The short, quiet reply causes a pang in his chest. He can’t be there for her during the questioning and it’s slowly tearing him up inside.

“Now, as I said, Mr. Queen will not be allowed to accompany you inside the questioning room. He and Mr. Diggle will, however, be permitted to wait just outside as a security detail.”

Jean guides them down a hallway and towards a slate grey door at the end of it. Standing on either side are Digg and Mr. Teller, the former quickly gauging the atmosphere and checking Felicity over for signs of distress. He frowns for a moment before smoothing his expression over as the approaching trio comes to a stop in front of him.

“Are you ready, Ms. Smoak, or shall I give you a few minutes to compose yourself?”

“No, I’m ready. I don’t need anymore time to overthink things.”

“Okay then. Right this way.”

Oliver grabs at her wrist, preventing Felicity from following the lawyer into the room. The blonde whirls around to face him, their eyes meeting in a silent conversation. The resolve in them is clear even with the underlying apprehension and Oliver nods his head in understating and support. He’ll be right here when she gets out.

Felicity slips from his hold and follows Jean inside, door shutting with a dull thud that somehow echoes within him like an earth-shattering bang.

….

It’s been nearly an hour and a half since Felicity walked out of that questioning room, in which she was held for over two hours, and Oliver can count on one hand the number of times she’s spoken since. Her uncharacteristic silence has him worried but he has no clue how to go about talking to her about it, unsure of what is safe territory.

After the meeting, Jean had informed both him and Digg that Mr. Teller would be aiding them in their efforts to keep Felicity safe beyond the judicial and detainment buildings, meaning he would be returning with them to the hotel. With a brief discussion and a nod of assent from Felicity, they had agreed it was the best course of action. Digg and Teller would switch off patrols in the hall while Oliver stayed in the room with her for the remainder of the day seeing as he was there as both a friend and a guardian.

As soon as they reached the room, Felicity had grabbed a change of clothes and headed for the shower. The only solace in her actions being that he didn’t hear the click of a lock after she closed the door. Thirty minutes later Oliver is beginning to feel anxious so he decides to check in on her.

Rising from the bed, he crosses over to the bathroom door and knocks on it loud enough to be heard over the running water.

“Felicity?”

There’s no reply. Oliver knocks again, this time a bit firmer and calls out.

“Felicity, are you okay in there?”

There’s a strangled sound from behind the door, a quiet sob that he just barely hears over the sound of the shower, but it’s enough to send concern washing over him and Oliver quickly pushes the door open.

“Felicity?”

“Oliver.”

Her voice breaks midway through his name and Oliver has the shower curtain pulled back to check on her the next moment.

The sight he finds is heart wrenching.

Felicity sits on the floor of the shower, curled in on herself as sobs wrack through her body. Her shoulders shake with each trembling breath she takes and Oliver reacts swiftly. In a matter of seconds, he has the water shut off and a towel wrapped around her tiny frame, hauling the sobbing blonde into his arms. She’s sopping wet but Oliver couldn’t care less as he runs a hand over her drenched locks, urging her to take comfort in his presence.

“Hey, hey, hey. Shhhhh… I’m here. It’s okay. I’m here.”

He doesn’t know why she’s upset, it could be a number of reasons, and it doesn’t matter. The only thing Oliver cares about is making sure she’s okay, which she very obviously is not.

Felicity buries her face into his neck, hot tears burning his skin where they land. Oliver tightens his hold on her, rocking them gently back and forth on the bathroom floor. Her gasps and strangled cries pierce Oliver’s heart like an LHR combat knife and he does his best to soothe Felicity with softly spoken words and tender caresses.

Eventually her sobs quiet to gentle tears then become small gasps until finally all that’s left is the occasional hitch in her breathing. She no longer clings to him like a lifeline but Oliver knows neither of them is ready to let go. He waits for Felicity to initiate the conversation, not wanting to push her.

“I’m sorry. It’s just… I never expected any of this to happen to me. No one ever does, but I… It’s so much to take in, too much. My mom, Bertinelli, my QC internship, training, Tommy… All of it is just one after another and I feel like I don’t have any room to breathe. And please don’t take that the wrong way; I love spending the night with you, or the morning, or any time of day really. You do make it easier. You and Digg and Thea… but I don’t know how to deal with it all at once. Then we talked to my mother today and even though I know she’s been a shitty mother and that we aren’t that close, the thought of losing her, of losing another person I care about – “

Callused hands move to cup her cheeks, keeping Felicity steady so that he can hold her gaze.

“Hey, listen to me. You are one of the strongest people I have ever met, Felicity Smoak, and you are handling this in the best way that you possibly can. I can’t promise you anything about your mother and I can’t tell you that you won’t lose her in one way or another, but I can tell you this: You’re not going to lose me. Not if I have anything to say about it. I will be here for you, always. Do you understand?”

Oliver waits for her confirming nod before pulling Felicity back to his chest, pressing a tender kiss to the top of her head.

“I love you. So damn much.”

Snuggling further into his now damp dress shirt, Felicity murmurs softly against his chest.

“I love you, too.”

Time passes them by as the pair remains in their comforting embrace, giving and taking the love and support that they are both so in need of. Once Oliver feels the majority of the tension leave Felicity’s body, he disrupts the silence surrounding them.

“Why don’t you put something comfortable on and order room service, pick out a movie for us to watch? I’ll take a quick shower and join you in a little bit.”

Felicity sniffles into his shirt before briefly voicing her agreement. Oliver pulls them both to standing, careful to keep the plush hotel towel wrapped tightly around her frame as they move. He gives her another lingering kiss, this one on her forehead, and promises to be quick before Felicity exits the bathroom.

His shower, although not considerably lengthy, takes Oliver a little longer than he expected. All of today’s events and their implications come raining down on him like the hot water above. He allows himself this time to reflect and compartmentalize all of it, deciding what takes priority and how to handle the myriad of obstacles being thrown at him. The most pressing matter, without a doubt, is Felicity’s well being.

Fifteen minutes later, Oliver steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. When he enters the bedroom, he’s surprised to find the TV on but no Felicity in sight. She must be speaking with Digg in the adjoining room. Quickly, Oliver pulls on a pair of boxers, some sweatpants, and a t-shirt, fully intending on spending the rest of the day and evening in the room with Felicity. He makes his way over to the door that connects the two rooms, knocking firmly before pushing it open and entering.

“Felicity, are you – “

He stops midsentence when he realizes that the blonde is nowhere to be found. Diggle looks up from his place lounging on one of the beds, book in hand.

“Is Felicity in here?”

“No. I thought she was in the room with you.”

Dread begins to set in as Oliver realizes the implications of the older man’s answer.

“She’s not there.”

Digg’s entire demeanor quickly shifts to high alert as he jumps up from the bed. Every nerve ending in Oliver’s body is buzzing with adrenaline, eyes widening in horror. He bolts towards the door and nearly breaks the thing off its hinges in his haste. A voice inside him is already whispering the worst as Oliver strides into the hall.

He finds exactly what he thought he would.

“Digg! Teller’s gone!”

“Son of a bitch.”

Franticly, Oliver strides back into the room he and Felicity were sharing, door banging against the wall behind him.

“Felicity!”

In an act of desperation he searches the bathroom, wrenching back the shower curtain and growling in frustration. Oliver’s footsteps pound heavily against the carpeted floor as he searches the hotel room. A sleek, black object on the ground catches his eye and Oliver bends to pick it up. Felicity’s tablet. Pieces of glass fall to the floor, the screen completely shattered.

“Felicity!”

A hand on his shoulder jerks Oliver around, bringing him face to face with Diggle. The older man braces both his hands on his comrade’s shoulders in an effort to steady him.

“Oliver! Oliver, look at me.”

His frantic gaze meets Digg’s for a second but it’s enough, enough for his friend to utter the words Oliver has refused even to think.

“She’s gone. Felicity is gone.”

Chapter Text

“What do you mean you don’t know where she is?! It has been three days!”

Oliver just barely refrains from knocking his chair over in anger. They’ve been working with the Central City Police Department for seventy-two hours now and still have nothing to go by, nothing to lead them to Felicity. Every hour, every minute, every second that passes fills Oliver with dread until it’s all he can feel. That and pain, pain like he’s never felt before. He who has been through so much already, who thought he’d felt the worst of heartbreak and destruction.

Oh how very wrong he had been.

“Our IT specialist just got in from a Tech conference in New York. We gave him your girl’s tablet first thing this morning. He’s been working on cracking it for three hours now.”

“That’s not good enough.”

This time Oliver can’t resist the impulse, pounding on the desk in front of him with his fist before abruptly rising from his seat to pace the room.

“Oliver, calm down. Getting angry like this doesn’t do Felicity any good.”

Oliver merely shrugs away from the hand Diggle places on his shoulder and continues to walk back and forth in front of the detective’s desk.

“Mr. Queen, I assure you the CCPD is doing everything it can to help find Ms. Smoak. Our forensics team has turned that hotel room upside down searching for something that could give us a clue as to where Teller took her. Unfortunately the security footage has all been wiped out and aside from the traces of chloroform on the bed, we haven’t found anything new.”

Stopping mid-pace, Oliver braces both hands on the desk and leans forward, voice lowered in anger and intimidation.

“I can assure you, Detective West, that the man behind this is Frank Bertinelli. Find him, bring him in, and question him. He knows where she is.”

“You know we can’t do that. Bertinelli is out of the country and thus out of our jurisdiction. We don’t have substantial reason to call him back stateside.”

In an attempt to prevent himself from breaking something, Oliver flattens his palms against his face and slides them along his jawline to cup the back of his neck. The action is meant to help him gain composure. It does so minimally but enough that Oliver’s next words are more of a growl than a dull roar of anger.

“I understand how jurisdiction works. If you can’t get Bertinelli, get his men. They’re suspects with probable cause.”

A quick rap on the door draws the attention of the room’s occupants. Standing in the door is a man with flowing black hair and a bronzed complexion, relatively young in age. In his possession is a piece of technology connected to Felicity’s destroyed tablet.

“Detective West, I found something.”

Oliver goes stock-still at the words, attempting to suppress the swell of hope threatening to rise up in his chest.

“Come in, Reyes, and close the door behind you.”

The younger man does as told, shutting the door and making his way across the office to where Oliver, Digg, and Detective West are gathered. He turns to Oliver and offers his hand in greeting.

“Hi. Jaime Reyes.”

“Oliver Queen and this is John Diggle. You said you found something?”

There is no time for proper introductions. Every second that passes is an additional second that Felicity is in the grasp of Bertinelli’s men. Time is a luxury they cannot currently afford.

“Right. I was finally able to override the software history to an extent. Ms. Smoak has some pretty heavy firewalls and backdoor security measures implemented so that made it harder to access. What I was able to decrypt is still incomplete data. However, I did a history check and looked into the most recent programs she ran before her disappearance. Are you familiar with the FBI’s Next Generation Identification system, Mr. Queen?”

“I’ve heard talks of it. We used a few of the functional prototypes overseas.”

“Yeah, well, your girl was piggybacking the system to run facial and audio recognition on the man you’ve referred to as a Mr. Robert Teller.”

Oliver’s eyes widen at this new information. The Next Gen system is supposed to be one of the most secure international identification programs, and Felicity was able to hack it from her personal tablet. Then the last part of Reyes’ statement registers with him.

“The man I’ve referred to as?”

The words escape Oliver in a low rasp, the implication causing his anger to climb even higher. To his credit, Mr. Reyes continues on unaffected, the only sign of intimidation being the quick bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.

“The search came up negative for a match. Whoever this guy is, he’s not Robert Teller.”

“Then what are you doing standing here, Reyes? Go run the system again and identify this son of a bitch.”

Detective West barks out his orders before Oliver can get a word in, which is probably a good thing considering he’s ready to throttle the next person who comes in here with information that fails to get them any closer to determining Felicity’s location.

“I, uh, yes sir, Detective. I’ll report back as soon as I get a hit.”

The tech specialist hurriedly departs from the room, taking Felicity’s tablet with him.

Sighing heavily, Oliver attempts to calm his anger, using the techniques he was quickly forced to learn overseas. Losing one’s composure does nothing towards progressive action. All it succeeds in doing is encouraging rash decisions, fueling the flames of motivation, but never leading down the smartest of paths.

“Mr. Queen, I know this is an unthinkable circumstance, but I promise you my boys and I will do everything in our power to bring Ms. Smoak back.”

What if everything in their power isn’t enough?

Images of Felicity tied up, unconscious, and beaten flash across Oliver’s mind unbidden. Is she waiting for him? Holding back her screams with every new bruise she receives in confidence that he’ll find her? Did they keep her drugged or does she feel the fresh pain of every blow? Have they done worse things to her?

Is her heart still beating?

Oliver’s eyes screw shut, fists clenched, as tears burn hot behind his eyelids. The rage he previously tried to suppress swells up in his chest and threatens to pull Oliver under, swallowing him whole. The room around him pulses an angry red.

“I need some air.”

He strides out of the room, heading down the hall and towards a door that leads to an alleyway on the side of the building. Several officers cast empathetic looks in Oliver’s direction as they quickly move out of his path. He doesn’t care; in fact he barely takes note of them.

With each day that passes, his anger grows stronger, anger and all-encompassing fear. The fear is more powerful than any Oliver has ever felt before. It’s liquid fire one second, flowing through his veins and nearly vibrating his entire frame, and the next it’s paralyzing ice, a leaden weight consolidated in the center of his being and threatening to drag him under. But he doesn’t let it. He grasps onto the anger instead because even that is safer then the dark depths of his fears.

“Damn it!”

A dumpster to his right experiences Oliver’s anger first hand as he kicks at it harshly before slamming his palm against the metal surface.

“What did the dumpster ever do to you?”

Whirling around, Oliver finds Diggle standing a few paces away. His words were teasing; his gaze, however, is anything but. Concern clouds the older man’s eyes as he cautiously approaches his friend.

“They don’t have anything on her location. How am I supposed to sit here and wait while she’s out there? How am I supposed to do nothing when she could be dying?!”

Oliver’s voice increases in volume with each word until he’s shouting in anger, subconsciously taking a step in Digg’s direction.

“That’s worst case scenario, Oliver. The CCPD is doing the best they can to find Felicity. We don’t have the resources on our own that they do.”

“I don’t give a fuck about resources! I will scour every seedy part of this damn town, follow every lead we have, track down every low life with even an ounce of information on Bertinelli, do whatever is necessary to get her back. You think anybody in there will do the same?”

Digg crosses his arms in front of his chest as Oliver advances, refusing to shrink under his anger.

“I think they’ll do whatever they possibly can.”

“It’s not enough.”

Turning his back on Diggle, Oliver steps away, fingers coming up to press against his eyelids as he attempts to control his anger. The urge to hit something is strong, the physical exertion a coping mechanism he has developed to work off excess energy, but there’s nothing around that wouldn’t result in injury.

“What are you going to do, Oliver? We have nothing. Until that tech specialist identifies this guy we’re fumbling in the dark. There’s nothing you can do.”

Oliver’s jaw clenches at the statement, his mind refuting the truth in it as he gruffly replies.

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is, Oliver. You know that as well as I do.”

The buzzing of his phone momentarily distracts Oliver from his anger, but not enough that he resists growling as he answers.

“Hello?”

“Ollie!”

The concerned cry of sister on the other line immediately causes his frustration to wane, replaced with concern and a minuscule amount of relief.

“Speedy.”

“Mom and I just got to our hotel. Dad wanted to come but with both you and Mom gone he had to stay. What’s happening? Have the police… Do they know if…?”

The desperation in his sister’s tone is not lost through the phone and Oliver quickly swallows to keep the stinging behind his eyes at bay.

“They haven’t found anything yet. All we know is that the man who took her isn’t who he says he is. They’re running facial recognition on him now.”

“What if she’s hurt, Ollie? What if she’s dead?”

Having his own fears echoed back to him eradicates any semblance of calm Oliver retained at the initial sound of his sister’s voice. The hand not currently holding his phone tightens into a fist once more as he attempts to maintain his equanimity for Thea.

“She’s not.”

“But how do you – “

“She’s not, Thea.”

Oliver’s tone leaves no room for argument and he immediately regrets raising his voice at her. Exhaling loudly, he continues on.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you I just… I can’t focus on that possibility right now, okay?”

“Listen, I get it. But Ollie, you’re not the only one with something to lose here. Felicity is my best friend. She’s my family, too.”

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Oliver wills some of the tension to leave his body as he turns on his heels to walk back towards Diggle.

“I know.  I just…”

“You love her. I understand that. But you’re not the only one who does, so stop acting like you’re alone in this.”

As he approaches Digg, Oliver gives a jerk of his head towards the end of the alleyway, indicating that it’s time to leave. The older man falls into step with him as they begin to make their way towards the parking lot.

“You’re right. Diggle and I are coming to the hotel right now. Detective West or someone from the CCPD will call us once they get a hit on this guy.”

“Okay. We’ll see you soon then?”

“Yeah. See you soon.”

….

They arrive at a different hotel from the one Oliver, Felicity, and Digg had checked into a mere four days ago. This one is located closer to the police department, should they receive any word on Felicity’s whereabouts and need to head to the station immediately. Oliver and Digg quickly make their way to the private suite that Thea and Moira are staying in, the younger of the two briskly knocking on the door when they arrive.

“Thea? Mom? It’s me!”

Footfalls sound behind the door as someone quickly makes their way over to answer it. The chain on the inside rattles and the deadbolt clicks open seconds before a small body careens into his chest.

“Ollie!”

Immediately, Oliver’s arms move to band around his sister’s tiny frame, one hand rising to gently cup the back of her head and stroke her hair as small soothing noises escape from in between his lips.

“Hey, Speedy.”

Brother and sister hold the embrace for a moment longer before parting and venturing further into the suite. Diggle follows close behind, tightly shutting the door and locking it behind him. Thea silently leads them into the main room where Moira is perched on the edge of a large beige sofa. The older woman rises at their entry, making her way over to her son.

“Hi, darling.”

His mother’s voice is gentler, kinder than it was when they last spoke and as Oliver meets her gaze he can see that Moira is just as affected by the circumstances as he is. A warm, delicate hand cups his jaw and Oliver automatically leans into the touch, seeking comfort.

“No news then?”

“No. They’re working on identifying her kidnapper now.”

Moira’s brow furrows softly as she takes a better look at his face, probably spotting the deep circles under his eyes. Sleep hasn’t been much of an option these past few days.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Oliver shifts out of his mother’s reach and travels over to the sofa, lowering himself down next to Thea where she now resides. He slouches forward, forearms resting atop trembling legs, and hangs his head as exhaustion settles in his bones. A small hand finds one of his and squeezes gently.

“Have you been sleeping at all?”

A huff of air leaves Oliver in a humorless laugh as he shakes his head.

“I don’t think I could if I tried.”

“Oliver…”

Moira softly admonishes her son as she seats herself on the coffee table across from him, concern evident in her tone. Oliver quickly glances up to give his mother what is meant to be a small, reassuring smile but even that is nearly impossible to muster. Instead he stares at her forlorn and weary, a child searching for consolation.

“Oh my beautiful boy…”

His mother moves with grace to gather him in her arms and for once Oliver allows himself to break, if not fully than at least the tinniest bit. He slumps into Moira’s embrace as she holds him close, a single tear sliding down his cheek as she softly runs a hand over his hair and presses a kiss against his cheek.

“They will find her. She’s out there and they will find her.”

A light weight lands on Oliver’s shoulder as Thea lays her head against him, lending support as much a she is taking it from the embrace. The three of them remain this way for a moment as they use the silent consolation to ease some of their burdens. Oliver pulls away a beat later. It’s not nearly long enough but it’s as much time as they can spare.

“Thank you, both, for coming. I don’t know what I would do without you here.”

“Felicity is family.”

He meets Moira’s gaze for a moment, detecting the unspoken truce in her words. Whatever reservations she holds about his relationship with Felicity, whatever disapproval exists within her, are far outweighed by the gravity of the current circumstances. They are family first and foremost, and Moira Queen has only ever strived for the happiness and wellbeing of her family.

With a small nod to his mother, Oliver shifts in his seat, further disrupting their embrace. Moira rises to her feet once more and he does the same shortly after, turning to offer Thea a hand once he has righted himself. She accepts it and pulls herself to standing as Diggle steps forward once more, having drifted into the background during the previous familial exchange.

“Are you two hungry? I can’t imagine you’ve had much time to eat while traveling all morning and afternoon.”

“I don’t think we’re the only ones who could use the nourishment, Oliver. You look like you haven’t eaten or slept in days.”

She wouldn’t exactly be wrong. On top of the lack of sleep, Oliver’s stomach has been in knots, his appetite nonexistent. Digg practically had to force him to put something in his system before going to the station this morning.

“It’s been… hard.”

There’s really no other word for it. Everything has just been so unbelievably hard.

“Why don’t we get something in our stomachs then, and we can go to the station after? I would like to meet the people in charge of the search to see what they’re doing myself.”

 “I was going to go back in an hour or so anyway. They should have something on the kidnapper soon.”

A small hand slides around the crook of Oliver’s elbow to clutch at his bicep as a warm body pushes against his side. Without a second thought Oliver wraps an arm around his sister’s waist, pulling her further into him.

“But first, lunch. Mom is right, you look terrible.”

It’s the first time he almost cracks a smile in days. Almost, but not quite.

Oliver leans down to press a tender kiss against Thea’s forehead, clutching her to him tightly.

“But first, lunch.”

….

Detective West accosts the group the second they set foot in the police station nearly three hours later.

“This your family?”

Oliver nods his head, quick to notice the man’s gruff tone of voice and underlying urgency.

“My mother, Moira Queen, and my sister Thea.”

“Detective Joe West. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

The detective shakes hands with Moira first, and then Thea, offering the younger girl a small, comforting smile.

“Would you all please come with me?”

Oliver gives Detective West a nod of assent and begins to follow as the older man makes his way through the precinct, down a hall, and into a private room towards the back. Two men are already seated inside, both of whom Oliver recognizes from his time spent in the station these past few days. Felicity’s tablet rests on the table along with a multitude of documents.

“Mrs. Queen, Miss Queen, my partner Detective Eddie Thawne and our IT specialist Jaime Reyes. Jaime here has been scouring through Miss Smoak’s tablet since his return to Central this morning and we think we have something. But first, we need to ask Oliver a few questions.”

Oliver tenses at that but instantly takes a step forward, willing to do whatever he can to help determine Felicity’s whereabouts.

“Should we step out for a moment, Detective?”

“That won’t be necessary, Mrs. Queen. This isn’t an interrogation. We just need to confirm a few things on record before we can proceed with our next course of action. If you don’t mind taking a seat at the table, Oliver.”

“Of course.”

The room’s occupants shift positions, settling in for what is about to come. Moira, Thea, and Digg seat themselves at one end of the wooden table, opposite Oliver and the detectives. Detective Thawne places a tape-recorded on the table in front of Oliver and turns it on.

“This conversation will be recorded from here on out for official use in the Missing Persons Case of Felicity Meghan Smoak.”

Oliver nods his head once, slowly in acknowledgement, signaling for the detectives to continue. West is the one who begins asking the questions.

“Mr. Queen, how long has it been since Felicity Smoak went missing?”

Oliver takes a glance at the watch on his wrist before quickly doing the math in his head.

“Roughly seventy-six hours as of ten minutes ago.”

“Where did she go missing from?”

“Her hotel room at the Rosewood.”

Sifting through the photographs strewn across the table, the older man pauses at a particular image and slides it towards Oliver.

“This the hotel you’re talking about?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. You had an extra security detail on Miss Smoak, provided to you by an outside party. Can you identify the individual from the provided images for us please?”

Oliver leans forward, forearms pressing down on the gleaming surface of the conference table. His gaze carefully wanders over the images laid out in front of him. It doesn’t take very long to spot the profile of one Robert Teller in a shot that appears to have been pulled from some sort of security footage or traffic camera. Oliver pulls the photograph from the bunch and hands it to Detective West.

“That’s him. Robert Teller.”

Nodding once, West hands the photo to his partner before signaling to Reyes, who is seated on his other side. The IT specialist taps and swipes at the screen of Felicity’s tablet a few times before handing it over to Oliver. Detective West gives him a few moments to look over the shattered screen before continuing with his questions.

“A facial recognition was run on this man using a hacked FBI database on Miss Smoak’s tablet prior to her disappearance. Is this the same man as the one in the photograph you just showed us?”

“Yes, it’s the same guy.”

The ring hanging on the chain around his neck seems to grow heavier and heavier with each question Oliver answers. The cool gold metal presses against his skin, weighing down on his chest and causing a chill to spread throughout his body. And yet, his heart begins to pound faster within its boney cage. Oliver’s breathing threatens to increase but he quickly fights to get his body under control. He has been trained to withstand the worst of tortures; a simple gathering of evidence should not render him so unsteady.

“Last question, Mr. Queen. We just need you to identify the possible suspect one more time for us on record. Reyes, the results from the facial recognition software you ran please.”

The dark-haired man passes a manila folder over to Detective West, who then shuffles through its contents before extracting another photo. Oliver accepts the offered file, minuscule tremors in his hands causing the paper to shake slightly in his grasp.

“Is the man in that photograph the same one you are claiming to be Robert Teller?”

“Yes. That’s the man who took Felicity.”

“Alright, Eddie, you can shut that thing off. Take the recording and the rest of the evidence and put an APB out. Then I want you to contact that legal firm that hired the man, specifically Jean Loring, Karen Smoak’s attorney. Tell them we have a suspect with probable cause and that you need to speak with her personally. Get any information you can from them.”

The sandy-haired detective does as directed, scooping the small recorder from the table and turning it off. He then begins to gather up the files, organizing them into separate piles and stuffing said piles into various file folders. Thawne hastily exits the room as Detective West begins to address the Queens and Diggle.

“Thank you for that, Oliver. We just needed a confirmed identification of the guy in order to take out a search warrant. Mr. Reyes will talk you through what he has been able to find so far.”

Oliver shifts in his seat and watches out of his peripheral as his mother and sister do the same. Digg catches his eye from across the table and the two men quickly exchange a stoic look. Just because the police have found something substantial enough to warrant further investigation and an ABP doesn’t mean they will be able to determine Felicity’s whereabouts.

“Mrs. Queen, I’m sure Oliver has informed you of the information we have so far. What he doesn’t know is that after running a few images of Mr. Teller through a federal facial recognition database we were finally able to uncover the man’s true identity.”

“I’m sorry, true identity?”

 The IT specialist nods to Moira before handing a file over to Oliver.

“Everything we’ve been able to dig up in the past few hours is in that folder for your review. Robert Teller is a member of a security firm who transferred to Central from Washington. He’s just not the man in these photographs.”

Anger courses through Oliver, making it nearly impossible for him to focus on any of the information in front of him.

“So then who the hell is he?”

“Anthony Corallo. I did some digging. Corallo has worked on a few business deals with a company belonging to a Mr. Frank Bertinelli. One of those deals just so happens to be the failed partnership with Kord Industries.”

“That’s the same assignment Felicity’s mother worked on, the one that led to her arrest.”

 The pieces quickly fall into place for Oliver. He had already fit the edges of this particular puzzle together in his mind, but now the centerpieces begin to align. Bertinelli had one of his men pose as Felicity’s temporary bodyguard to keep an eye on her and to see if she knew about Karen’s involvement. But if he was planning on abducting her, why even show his face? Why allow the chance for a connection to be made?

Moira gives voice to her son’s thoughts.

“Why would this Anthony Corallo leave a trail, Mr. Reyes? The Italian mob excels in discretion.”

“We don’t know ma’am. Could have been sloppy work, could be part of something bigger. This does, however, give us grounds for further investigation. Corallo is now officially a suspect and with the tie to Bertinelli, we can look further into the lead your son provided.”

Finally. Finally.

This news does little to eradicate Oliver’s fears. They still don’t know where Felicity is or what the people who abducted her want exactly. It does, however, allow Oliver to take the deep breath he needs in order to calm himself physically. The shaking in his hands stops and breathing becomes easier, permitting Oliver to relax his rigid posture.

“So what’s our next course of action? How are you looking into Bertinelli if he’s out of the country?”

Detective West replies to Oliver’s question.

“Right now our main focus is to determine Miss Smoak’s whereabouts and to get her back to you safely. You told us earlier that Felicity met with her mother’s attorney the morning of her abduction to speak about Bertinelli, correct?”

“That’s right. We had reason to suspect Bertinelli as being responsible for the attempts on Felicity’s life after finding multiple records of under the table transactions between him and Karen.”

Oliver glances in Moira and Thea’s direction to see their reactions. If this news comes as a shock to either one of them, it doesn’t show. His sister looks concerned above all else where she sits attentively in her seat. Moira, on the other hand, keeps her composure reserved and steady, ever calm in the face of chaos. The only outward sign of distress is the tightening of her grip around Thea’s hand where the two rest intertwined in her lap.

“Detective Thawne is currently on his way to speak with Ms. Loring about releasing the information for investigation. It might give us some insight as to where Miss Smoak is being kept.”

For a moment Oliver considers what would happen if Karen and her lawyer refused. Would the police be able to seek further legal action in order to obtain the information Felicity provided them with? Is there a digital copy of it encrypted on Felicity’s tablet somewhere? But then Oliver remembers the look on Karen’s face when she saw her daughter for the first time in months, the way she held onto her tightly as they said their goodbyes, and he knows Karen will do whatever is necessary to bring Felicity home safely.

“Karen will want you to have the information.”

“That’s what we’re counting on, Mr. Queen. Mr. Reyes here will continue to decode Miss Smoak’s tablet incase any of the files with the information can be recovered. Aside from that, there’s nothing else we can do but wait.”

And now they’re back to doing nothing. Oliver tries not to let the frustration he feels show but his mother must somehow detect it because she addresses Detective West before he can.

“So what do you suggest we do, Detective?”

“My advice to you is to go back to your hotel and get some rest. I’m sure both you and your daughter are exhausted from your travels. We will call you the second anything changes.”

The detective stands from his seat, signaling to the room’s occupants that the conversation is over. Moira and Thea follow his lead, helped out of their chairs by Diggle who has been silently observing for the entirety of the exchange with Detective West. Oliver, however, remains seated, lost in thought.

They’re closer than they were before this day began, yet still so far from getting Felicity back where she belongs. Not to mention the state they might find her in. Every second that passes could mean another injury, another scar that should never be there. Or she could remain untouched. That’s the problem, there’s no way to tell what is happening to Felicity right now.

In the back of his mind a voice whispers to Oliver, echoing his deepest fears, if she’s still alive.

A gentle hand on his shoulder pulls Oliver from the continuous downward spiral of his mind, preventing him from falling back into the panic and anger of this morning.

“Oliver, sweetheart, it’s time to go.”

Moira lightly squeezes his shoulder, offering her son a sad smile as she gestures towards where Diggle and Thea are waiting in the doorway.

“Sorry. Just got lost in thought.”

The ride back to the hotel is spent in almost complete silence, aside from the occasional question to Digg from Moira about the investigation proceedings.

At some point, Thea slips her hand into Oliver’s and leans to rest her head against his shoulder. He turns his head to the side to place a gentle kiss against her hair, eyelids sliding shut as he allows himself this moment of comfort. They lean against each other for the remainder of the car ride, offering and taking support from one another in kind. Even as they exit the car and make their way up to the hotel suite, the siblings don’t move far away from each other.

Diggle addresses Moira as they enter the suite.

“If you don’t mind, ma’am, I’d like to do a sweep of the rooms. Just to be safe.”

“Of course, Mr. Diggle. If you think that’s necessary then by all means go ahead.”

The bodyguard nods once to Moira and then makes eye contact with Oliver, silently asking if he’s okay. Olive gives a nod of his own before Digg makes his way toward the bedrooms. It doesn’t take the older man long to check the area out and deem it safe. When he returns a few minutes later, the Queens are all seated around the television, watching the news.

“In a rare turn of events, the trial of Karen Smoak versus Kord Industries has been postponed. Three days ago Ms. Smoak’s only daughter, eighteen-year-old Felicity Smoak, went missing from her hotel room here in Central City.”

A picture of Felicity is displayed on screen; the one Oliver had provided the police with when he and Digg first filed the Missing Persons report.

“Sources say Miss Smoak was visiting with her mother and her mother’s attorney, Jean Loring, the morning of her abduction. No word yet as to who may have taken the young girl but police are urging anyone with information on her whereabouts to come forward.”

Oliver quickly mutes the broadcast before standing abruptly from the couch he had been seated on.

“Mom, Speedy, I think I’m going to lie down for a bit. Try to clear my mind if that’s okay with you.”

Moira grasps at her son’s hand and gazes at him sympathetically, unshed tears shining in her eyes.

“Of course. Take all the time you need. We will come get you the second anything changes.”

“Thanks.”

With one last glance in Thea’s direction and a solemn exchange of looks with Digg, Oliver leaves the main living area and enters the nearest bedroom.

Quickly shutting the door behind him, Oliver doesn’t even bother turning the lights on as he trudges over to the large bed in the center of the room. Toeing his shoes off, he falls back on the bed, a hand coming up to pull on the chain around his neck. Oliver maneuvers it until the ring is in his hand, clutching onto it like a lifeline.

He doesn’t sleep. He lays on his back, stares at the ceiling, loses himself in thought, but he doesn’t sleep.

He can’t.

….

The call comes at three in the morning while Oliver is wearing a hole in the rug of their hotel suite.

“Mr. Queen, Oliver, you’re going to want to come down to the station as soon as you can. We may have found where they’re keeping her. We may have found Felicity.”

Chapter Text

There are turning points in this life, moments of decision making that alter the course of what’s to come. Oliver has had his fair share of these moments and learned that no matter how many of them a person experiences, it is impossible to be fully prepared for the repercussions. Sure, it may get easier to prioritize and evaluate what is in front of him, but he will never be able to completely control the outcome. Because life is unpredictable that way, it doesn’t always make sense. So whatever action he takes in this world should be carried out to the fullest and for the right reasons. For Oliver, the right reason has always been to protect those he loves. It will continue to be the rightest reason until his dying breath.

That is why when Detective West informs Oliver that no immediate action can be taken towards rescuing Felicity, the decision is instantly made for him.

They’re gathered around the same table from earlier in the afternoon, they being the Queens, Diggle, and Detectives West and Thawne. Thawne was able to secure the information Felicity had presented to Karen’s lawyer, within reason. From there, they had their tech specialist run a cross reference with the city’s archives of property ownership and the businesses involved in past transactions with Frank Bertinelli and Karen Smoak. There had only been one hit in Central City and it was indirect.

“A warehouse near the wharf on the bay. Problem is, Bertinelli never owned it directly. Several years ago an LLC by the name of Spyral purchased the warehouse, the same one Miss Smoak was looking into.“

Oliver’s brow furrows in confusion as he studies the image of the aforementioned warehouse that Detective West slides towards him. His next comment comes out more of a question than a statement.

“Felicity said she couldn’t find anything on the company.”

“She might not have had access to the older archives. The warehouse fell out of Spyral’s ownership and became privately owned once the company was liquidated some years ago. Felicity’s work is good, Mr. Queen, but no one is infallible.”

The detective’s last quip strikes a nerve in Oliver. He doesn’t need a lecture on fallibility. He needs results.

“So when are you going to search the warehouse?”

West and Thawne exchange a quick look of apprehension before the latter begins to respond slowly.

“Because the warehouse property is now owned by a private party and seeing as it’s the middle of the night, obtaining a search warrant might take us some time, a few hours most likely if the parties involved are cooperative.”

This is the turning point.

Felicity might not have a couple of hours. Hell, she might not even have a couple of minutes. So the choice is easily made. In fact, there’s really no choice to make at all. Oliver is going to find Felicity himself.

“Is there any way to speed the process up, Detective? In a city like this you have to have a magistrate working at this hour.”

Moira has one arm wrapped around Thea’s shoulders as the younger girl presses herself into her mother’s side, the other is extended towards Oliver to gently rest on his back. His mother rubs soothing circles into the taut muscles, urging him to relax.

The action reminds Oliver of when he was a kid, stupid and reckless. He would run to his mother when he made a mistake because he knew she would be able to make it better. Most of the time Moira would sit Oliver down and they would talk through whatever mess he had gotten himself into, all the while sifting her delicate fingers through his hair and massaging comforting circles into his scalp. If only his problems now were as easy to solve as those had been.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Queen, but there isn’t anyone available for another three hours. Once we can get in contact with a judge it shouldn’t take very long to obtain a warrant. We have more than enough to show that we have probable cause. In the mean time, we are assembling a team to search the warehouse as soon as the warrant is granted to us.”

A phone begins to ring just then and Moira quickly reaches into her purse, checking the caller ID before addressing Detective West.

“My husband. I left him a voicemail on our way over, but I didn’t think he would call back so soon. I need to take this.”

“Of course, Mrs. Queen. Detective Thawne and I will go check to see if any progress has been made, give you and your family some privacy.”

As the two detectives gather their things, Oliver leans in to address his mother in a low voice.

“I’m going to the restroom. Will you and Thea be okay without me?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Oliver’s mother gives him a warm smile, one he returns before leaning over to place a kiss on his sister’s forehead.

“I’ll be right back.”

Pulling himself to standing, Oliver quickly turns on his heel to exit the room…

And runs straight into Detective Thawne, knocking the manila folder in the other man’s hands to the floor. Papers spill out across the holding room floor and Oliver quickly crouches down to help the detective collect them.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

The two men rise once the files are back in order and Oliver offers the small stack he organized back to the detective. The other man takes the papers with a sympathetic look before responding.

“Don’t sweat it, Mr. Queen. I’m sure you have a lot going on in your head right now. No one blames you for being flustered by everything that’s happening.”

Oliver responds with a thankful smile, careful to hide his movements as he deftly slips the document he just pilfered from the scattered files into his back pocket.

“Thanks.”

Detective Thawne briefly claps him on the back before pivoting towards the door. The two of them make their way out of the room, parting from one another as Oliver heads down the opposite end of the hallway towards the restroom. However, when he reaches the wooden door with the word ‘Men’ printed on it in easy to read block letters, he continues past it. After a surreptitious glance over his shoulder, Oliver travels down the hall and turns to the right. It doesn’t take long before he arrives at the door leading to the alley he escaped to yesterday morning. Another quick survey of his surroundings shows that he has not been followed, and Oliver quickly ducks outside.

It’s pitch-dark out given the late, or early depending on how you look at it, time of day and a slight chill runs down his spine as a gust of wind blows through. Papers rustle and the sound of a can rolling and hitting a wall comes from the mouth of the alleyway. Oliver hastily makes his way to the parking lot behind the police station, striding towards where the car they arrived in is parked. A dark figure standing by the hood of the vehicle comes into focus, causing Oliver’s shoulders to tense as he goes on high alert. The tension lessens once the figure steps into the light of a street lamp and reveals himself.

“What are you doing out here, Digg?”

“Funny, I could ask you the same thing.”

A beat of silence passes between them as Diggle silently calls Oliver on his bluff.

“You’re not going after her, Oliver. Wait for the police to get a warrant.”

Gritting his teeth, Oliver turns his head away from the older man and lets his gaze wander across the nearly abandon parking lot.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Oliver, don’t. Don’t let this be Shado all over again.”

Images flash behind his eyelids of Shado lying helpless on the ground, bleeding out. Then it’s Felicity, screaming for him to do something, anything. Then it’s Shado once again, telling him to leave her and run. The scenarios flicker back and forth until Oliver can’t tell which images are memories and which are a product of his twisted imagination. If Digg was hoping to dissuade him, he’s done a poor job of it.

“Shado had training to stay alive. Felicity doesn’t know anything aside from basic self-defense. If you think I’m going to abandon her until the police get their act together then you don’t know me at all.”

The older man takes a step towards him, causing Oliver to tense.

“See that’s the thing, man. I do know you. And I know you’ll give your own goddamn life to keep her safe.”

He’s not wrong.

“Digg, get out of my way.”

“Or what, Oliver?”

“Or get put down.”

Oliver’s reply comes without hesitation and is followed by silence. They stand there, wondering who will make the first move, who will be the first to give.

In the end it’s Diggle whose will is weaker. He gives a resigned sigh and shake of his head as he distances himself from Oliver.

“Well I’ll be damned if I let you do this without backup.”

That gives Oliver pause.

“Digg, no. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t. I’m volunteering. A soldier never lets his brother go into combat alone.”

Oliver considers his friend, his commanding officer, assessing how serious the older man is. He knows that Digg blames himself in part for what happened in Afghanistan. Oliver had gone to him, ready to retrieve Shado, and the older man had refused to send the unit out. What Oliver did had gone against direct orders, but he knows that never made Digg feel any less responsible for the comrades, the friends they lost that night.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

….

It takes them ten minutes to speed back to the hotel, violating at least five major traffic laws along the way. It takes another ten for them to gather their gear, and then thirty more to reach the wharf. Oliver’s nerve ends are buzzing like livewires by the time they hide the car and begin to make their way towards the address printed on the evidence file he pocketed earlier.

“We have to be smart about this. We want to get in and out of there as inconspicuously as possible for Felicity’s safety. Bertinelli will have men surrounding the area to keep watch. Hopefully not too many, but we still need to be quick.”

“Got it, Digg.”

“Hey.”

Diggle reaches out to grasp Oliver’s shoulder, halting them both in their steps.

“Keep your head about this. I can cover you, but we need to stick to the plan if we want this to go our way.”

Oliver gives a quick nod of understanding, putting the conversation to an end as he turns back around and quietly makes his way through the abundance of surrounding warehouses.

253.

That’s the number they’re looking for. Warehouse 253 in the wharf district of Central City. The numbers climb as they silently continue forward. 249. 250. 251. Oliver’s hand travels down to his waist where his handgun is situated in its holster. He frees the weapon from its confines without so much as a glance, remaining vigilant of his surroundings.

The two soldiers hear the gruff voices of men at the same moment and simultaneously come to a halt. They remain still, listening to the muffled exchange from around the corner. Oliver notes the shift in pitches, attempting to discern the number of people conversing.

“I’m picking up on two.”

“Same here. I’ll go around the other side and we each take whoever’s closest.”

Oliver gives Digg a curt nod, waiting for him to round the side of the warehouse before doing the same. Back pressed against the wall, he makes his way towards the voices of Bertinelli’s men without a sound. Every movement, every step, every breath is measured, coolly calculated down to the angle as years of stealth training have conditioned him to do. Carelessness is what nearly got him killed before. There is no room for error this time.

The voices come into focus as Oliver approaches and he can just make out what the men are saying.

“Did you see Tony’s face?”

“How could I not? That’s a shiner if I’ve ever seen one. Blondie got a good swing in before he knocked her out.”

Felicity. They’re talking about Felicity and that means the chances of her being here just increased substantially. After the relief comes a very brief sense of pride as Oliver puts together what the two men are saying. Felicity must have put up a fight when Corallo grabbed her and left him with a black eye. That’s his girl.

“She’s lucky the boss man wants her unharmed or he’d have put the kid in her place by now.”

Three short whistles sound from around the other side of the building, calling the attention of the two men standing guard. Their conversation ceases for a moment as they listen.

“You hear that?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna go check it out. Be on guard.”

Oliver can faintly make out the sound of retreating footfalls as one of the guards investigates the source of the noise. That’s his cue.

Tucking his gun into the back of his jeans and covering it with his leather jacket, Oliver collects himself and then proceeds to round the corner. The man left behind tenses the second he comes into his line of sight. Oliver puts on a surprised façade before cautiously approaching him. He remains a few paces away in the shadows, careful not to fully reveal his face.

“Hi, sorry, don’t mean to scare you, but I seem to be a little lost.”

The dark haired man, who appears to be a few inches shorter than Oliver, assesses him warily.

“Yeah, you do. This is private property.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m here to pick something up. Think you could help me find the warehouse I’m looking for?”

“At four in the morning?”

The skepticism in the man’s tone does not go unnoticed. Oliver pours every ounce of irresponsible playboy into his next response that he can, hoping the man will take the bait.

“Just a couple party favors, if you know what I’m saying. Wait, you’re not a cop, are you?”

“Why don’t you just tell me the number you’re looking for?”

Annoyance rings through the guard’s voice above all else now. Oliver reaches into his pocket to pull out the paper with the warehouse address on it while he closes the distance between the two of them, careful to keep his head down.

“It says right here I’m looking for warehouse two fifty-three.”

Oliver looks up then, revealing his face to the man in the light of a nearby lamppost. He can tell the second the man recognizes him by the look on his face.  It’s a second too late as Oliver quickly grabs his wrist, preventing the guard from relieving his gun from its holster. He pulls his fist back and quickly snaps it forward into the man’s temple, his body crumpling to the pavement as he rapidly loses consciousness.

“Thanks for the help.”

The pounding of footsteps catches Oliver’s attention and he reflexively pulls out his gun, clicking the safety off and preparing to fire if necessary. He relaxes when Digg rounds the corner, seemingly uninjured. The older man glances at the body lying on the ground and then back at Oliver.

“My guy’s out cold. Secured him to a couple of crates just incase.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

They pause at the door, listening for any signs that someone might be waiting on the other side. Oliver draws his gun up in front of him as Digg reaches out to grab the doorknob. The men exchange a brief nod right before the door swings open and Oliver steps inside.

Neither gunfire nor angered shouts great the soldiers as they enter, which they take as a good thing. The inside of the warehouse is lined with rows of boxes extending almost from floor to ceiling. This bodes well for them in the aspect of staying hidden, but not in their quest to locate Felicity.

“How do you want to do this, Oliver?”

Their roles are reversed from what they were back in Afghanistan and it throws Oliver for a loop. Because he doesn’t know how he wants to do this. He doesn’t know how to think about this methodically when it feels like lightening has been bottled up inside him, his body screaming at him to go, to do something and do it now. Blood pumps through his veins and he does his best to keep his heart rate steady.

“I don’t… give me a second.”

“We don’t have a lot of time, Oliver.”

“I know.”

He makes sure to keep his response quiet while his mind kicks into overdrive. They need to find Felicity, that is the obvious objective. But they also need to determine their method of escape and remove any threats to said escape.

“We need to stay together until we find Felicity. We can figure out how to get out of here as we go.”

Without another word, the men cautiously proceed forward. They remain aware of their surroundings, constantly glancing about to draw up a mental map of the warehouse and to discern any possible threats. Oliver takes note of the exits they come across, sure that Diggle is doing the very same.

Muted voices from up ahead slow down their pace as the two men travel deeper into the warehouse. Oliver is able to distinguish between the different tenors as they slip closer, picking up on a familiar tone.

“I don’t see why we can’t just off the kid now. There’s no way the boss man is gonna let her live. She knows too much.”

Oliver’s grip tightens around his gun, a strong hand on his shoulder the only thing that prevents him from charging in right then and there. Turning slightly, he catches Diggle’s eye and nods his understanding. They need to hold their ground to get a better idea of what they’re up against.

“Are you questioning the Don’s authority, Tony?”    

There is a sudden silence following the accusation, a suspension of time that occurs only in a moment of completely standstill. Even though he cannot see the men, Oliver can feel the shifting and rising tension in the air.

“Of course I wasn’t, Nicky. Only an idiot would do that.”

“Then I don’t need to explain to you the reasons to keep this girl breathing. Frank wants her alive until stated otherwise, so that’s how it’s gonna be. Got it?”

A small relief washes through Oliver at hearing that. She’s alive. Felicity’s alive.

“Got it.”

“Good.”

Quiet ensues after the tense exchange, save for the sound fingers scuttling over a keyboard and the muted thuds of shoes on the cement ground. Oliver and Digg hold their position for a few beats in order to track the movement of the heavy footfalls. Once they seem to be moving away from the former soldiers, Oliver peers around the stack of crates to survey the area. The sight he finds nearly stops his heart.

Roughly thirty yards away from him in a cleared out space at the heart of the building is Felicity.

She’s seated on the floor in a slumped over position, a steel support beam running from base to ceiling behind her back. From Oliver’s vantage point, it appears that her arms are secured around it. Felicity’s usually slicked back ponytail is a disheveled mess, having fallen nearly to the base of her skull with strands of various lengths hanging limply around her face. A white cloth is pulled taut between her lips, tied around the back of her head, gagging her.

The world pulses red around him.

It takes everything within Oliver to hold himself in place, to keep himself in check as he speaks in hushed anger to his companion.

“We need to get her out of here, Digg. Now.”

“I know. There’s an emergency exit behind her and to the left. Do you see it?”

He glances in the direction Diggle mentioned and targets the glowing red sign above the door.

“Yes.”

“Untie Felicity and get her out that door. I’ll cover you from a few yards away, close enough to jump in if necessary but far enough to draw them away if you need a distraction.”

Oliver drags his gaze from Felicity’s prone form to look at Diggle, thinking the plan through quickly before giving his reply.

“Okay. I’ll take Felicity and head straight for the car once we get out.”

With a nod, the older man begins to move from his crouched position. He pauses, however, when Oliver speaks his name in a hushed tone.

“John. Be careful.”

“Always am, Oliver.”  And then, “You too.”

He watches as Digg’s bulking form slips around the corner and out of sight. Then, with a deep breath to steady himself, Oliver turns away and moves in the opposite direction.

Crouched low to the ground, he moves with a steady surety, determination in every step. This is a mission that Oliver cannot, will not fail. He circles around the outer edge of boxes in order to remain undetected, moving closer to where Felicity is bound and gagged. The closer he gets, the more anxious he becomes, eyes tracing over every small detail of her features in search of injury. Deep violet blossoms across her cheekbone outlined in a sickly shade of green and dried up blood from a cut near the corner of her eye clings to her skin. The obvious evidence of physical violence sends Oliver’s stomach churning in rage.

They fucking hit her.

Oliver’s hand tightens around his gun and for a second he contemplates opening fire on the two men right here and now. It would be so easy from his vantage point to take them out in two shots, one to the back of each of their heads. Then he could grab Felicity and get her out of here to safety without trouble. Years of training, however, have taught Oliver to act with more integrity than that. Killing is not a plan. It is a last resort.

So instead, Oliver continues to silently edge around the boxes towards the place where Felicity is tied up. Luck must be on his side because he manages to reach her without being detected. A small sigh of relief slips out between Oliver’s lips as he glances over his shoulder at the men standing watch, finding them preoccupied with whatever is flashing across their computer screens. Turning back around and crouching down by her side, Oliver lets his eyes wander over Felicity’s form, searching for any sign of injury that was too small to see from far away.

Apart from some smaller bruises around her wrists and a split lip, Felicity appears to be okay. Her hair is matted with sweat and dirt, loose strands dangling in front of her face due to the uncomfortable angle at which her head is hanging. Thick eyelashes clump together, dark circles residing beneath her eyes that scream of exhaustion despite her unconscious state. It’s the puffy eyelids and faint tear tracks that really leave Oliver winded, feeling as though he’s just been sucker punched in the gut. She’s been crying.

Tentatively, Oliver reaches out to cup Felicity’s cheek in the roughened palm of his hand. When she gives no indication of waking, he lays his gun down on the floor, freeing his other hand in order to reach up and frame her face. Being careful not to place too much pressure on her injured cheek, Oliver gently runs his thumbs back and forth across Felicity’s cheekbones. Her eyelids begin to flutter open at the touch as she regains consciousness. The moment she comes to, her entire body tenses and jerks away from his hold, eyes shooting open wide in disorientation and panic. Oliver just manages to cradle the back of her head and prevent it from colliding with the support beam behind her.

“Shhh, shhh, shhh! Felicity, it’s me! It’s Oliver. I’m here. I’m here.”

He locks onto her confused gaze, cautiously watching as the storm in her eyes calms at the sound of his hushed voice. Recognition and relief flood through Felicity’s features as she relaxes into Oliver’s hold, falling forward to rest her damp forehead against his shoulder. His strong arms quickly encircle her shaking form, one wrapping around her lower back to hold her tight while the other reaches further behind her to work at the rope knotted around her wrists. He murmurs into her hair the entire time, careful not to let his voice rise above the faintest of whispers.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Everything’s going to be okay. You’re safe now.”

Bracing his hands against her shoulders, Oliver gently pushes Felicity backwards so she’s sitting upright. Once she’s steady, he reaches around to gently loosen the piece of cloth secured around her mouth. A deep gasp follows suit as Felicity sucks in what has probably been her first breath of fresh air in God knows how long. The thought alone sends a wave of rage crashing through Oliver’s system. He tries to quell his anger by focusing on the blonde in front of him, cupping her uninjured cheek in the palm of his hand, needing the contact just as much if not more than she does.

“I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”

He doesn’t hear the approaching footsteps until it’s too late. The fear and panic in Felicity’s eyes register with Oliver just as the safety of a gun releases behind him.

“Not so fast there, Mr. Queen.”

Oliver freezes, instantly recognizing the voice as Tony Corallo’s. He whispers quietly to Felicity so that only the two of them can hear.

“When I give the signal, you run. Bite your lip if you understand.”

Her teeth tug at her bottom lip for a moment, signaling that she gets the message. Worry, however, is still very present in her eyes and Oliver knows the majority of it isn’t for herself.

“Hands above your head and step away from the girl. Now.”

He does as told, backing away from Felicity and slowly turning around to face the man aiming a gun at his chest. There’s an element of arrogance to Corallo’s stance, as if he really believes that he got the jump on Oliver. He did to an extent, but Digg is still stationed in the warehouse, waiting to intervene if necessary.

Standing behind Corallo near a crude setup of computers is another, older looking man. It takes Oliver a second to place the somewhat familiar face, but when he does he recognizes the individual as Nick Solvate, Bertinelli’s second in command. The two men met briefly at the tension-filled dinner Bertinelli hosted weeks ago. Oliver should have known he would be here.

“If you let us go now, I’ll be sure to make your part in our escape clear to the authorities.”

Corallo barks out a laugh at Oliver’s comment, gun still held at the ready. Solvate remains silent, observing for a beat before speaking in an eerily calm tone of authority.

“It’s flattering that you think I have a say in who stays and who goes, Mr. Queen. Now please, take a seat.”

He gestures towards a metal chair a couple of feet away from him. When Oliver makes no move towards it, Corallo takes a threatening step forward. The mobster’s face morphs into a sneer at his unwillingness to comply, huffing in agitation as he shuffles closer. Oliver’s gaze remains locked on Solvate.

“I won’t ask again. I may have orders to keep her in one piece, but the Don didn’t say anything about you. Tony here has been itching for a fight for days now.”

“Oliver, just do what he says.”

All three men whip their heads around to where Felicity is seated on the ground. She’s kneeling in almost the same position she was earlier, hands held behind her back to maintain the illusion of being tied up.

“Hey! Did we say you could talk? There’s a reason we had you gagged, bitch.”

Oliver’s jaw clenches tightly in anger at Corallo’s insult, barely refraining from attacking him. For now.

“Tony, show Oliver here to his seat, please.”

A large hand shoves at his back, roughly encouraging him to take a step toward the chair and away from Felicity. Oliver does so with measured reluctance when in all actuality the closer they get to the chair, the further they get from Felicity, providing her with a larger window of escape.

A movement along the wall of the warehouse catches his eye. Crouched by a large wooden crate near the bank of computers is Digg, gun at the ready and aimed at the man ushering Oliver along. The two soldiers lock gazes in silent communication, a skill developed overseas after working together in the field for so long. The message is clear.

Not yet.

“I expected more of a fight from you, Oliver. Five years in Afghanistan, wasn’t it? I have to say, I’m a little disappointed.”

Oliver remains silent, refusing to acknowledge Solvate’s taunting words. They’re seven feet from the chair… six… five… He stops short, refusing to move any further.

“All the way, Queen! This gun ain’t just for - ”

The second he feels the cool metal of the gun make contact with his person, Oliver strikes. He quickly pivots around and grabs the weapon before slamming his elbow into the side of Corallo’s jaw. The other man stumbles back a few steps, releasing the gun in disorientation. Oliver sees Diggle spring into action out of the corner of his eye, gun pointed at Solvate as he shouts at him not to move.

“Felicity, go!”

He barks out the command just as Corallo recovers. The mobster appears conflicted for a moment, wondering if he should go after Felicity or take a swing at his opponent. Oliver makes the decision for him, charging at the unarmed man. Corallo is fast to react, ducking out of the way as Oliver’s fist flies at his head. The two men quickly engage each other, giving Felicity time to escape.

The warehouse fills with grunts and shouts as the unarmed men lash out at one another. Oliver blocks a jab to his head and retaliates with one of his own. Corallo recovers quickly, delivering a swift kick to Oliver’s side that he just barely dodges. They trade blows back and forth until Oliver gets the final drop on his opponent, slamming his foot into the guy’s knee with enough force to make his legs give out beneath him. The ensuing sharp cry of pain, however, causes Oliver to freeze. Because it doesn’t come from the man he’s fighting.

It comes from Felicity.

Time seems to stand still as Oliver snaps his head toward the noise, the scene he finds causing his heart to stop. One of the men that had been standing guard outside has Felicity hauled back against his chest by her hair, fist tightly wound in the unruly strands of her ponytail, gun pressed to her fragile temple. Even from across the room Oliver can see that she’s shaking in the his hold, terrified.

“Let her go!”

As Oliver takes a step forward, the man holding Felicity captive yanks at her hair. The action pulls a small exclamation of pain from her throat and causes Oliver to immediately halt his advances. Glancing to his right, he sees that Digg has done the same, the older man’s gaze shifting back and forth between the room’s occupants in assessment.

“It seems as though we are at a bit of an impasse, Mr. Queen.”

The words come from Solvate, who stands in front of Diggle’s pointed gun as if its ammunition were comprised of water instead of lead and gunpowder. He appears unfazed, now that he once again has the upper hand.

“Tell your friend here to lower his gun, would you?”

Oliver glances toward Diggle, then moves his gaze back to Felicity. She tries to shake her head, but the man holding her tightens his grip on her ponytail in retaliation. She grits her teeth, refusing to cry out this time. Despite her efforts, a pained whimper escapes the blonde and it’s enough to make Oliver’s decision for him.

“Diggle, do as he says.”

The older man hesitates for a second before lowering his weapon.

“On the ground, please. Then slide it over this way.”

Again, Diggle delays following Solvate’s orders. Oliver nods to him in encouragement and watches as the older man complies, nudging the gun across the floor with his foot. Solvate bends down to grab it, releasing the safety as he turns the weapon back around on Digg.

“Hey, Tony! Why don’t you get up off your lazy ass and show Mr. Diggle to a seat.”

The man in question is just now pushing himself up off the floor, and Oliver observes with a hint of satisfaction as he approaches Digg with a slight drag in his left leg. The injury is no doubt a consequence of Oliver’s final blow before their standstill. The contentment, however, quickly wanes as Corallo fastens Diggle’s arms and ankles to the chair.

“Good. Joey, bring Miss Smoak over this way, and Oliver, if you would be so kind as to follow your friend’s example and take a seat.”

Slowly, Oliver closes the distance between himself and a chair situated a few feet away, gaze steadily bouncing back and forth between the gun trained on him and Felicity as her captor moves them toward Solvate. Rough hands hastily shove him into the chair once he’s close enough and begin to secure Oliver in place.

“Oliver, don’t! They have orders not to kill me!”

A violent crack rings through the room, followed by a sharp cry as Felicity tumbles to the floor after being backhanded by Solvate. Even from a distance Oliver can spot the bright red of blood heating beneath her skin, and knows it will cause a fresh bruise to appear within a few hours. Hatred floods his system, boiling the blood running through his veins. If it weren’t for the guns trained on each of them, he would lash out at the nearest mobster. As is, Oliver can’t hold himself back from growling at the men under his breath.

“You know, she’s right. We were given strict orders to keep her alive. But the Don didn’t say anything about getting a little rough.”

The broad-shouldered man grabs Felicity by the top of her arm and yanks her body into his side, shifting to wrap an arm around her waist. He maintains eye contact with Oliver the entire time, teasing him, taunting him, daring him to make a move.

“Joey, go over with Tony and keep our guests some company.”

The other man does as he’s told, crossing the space to where Diggle and Oliver are seated. He steps behind Oliver’s chair and takes up post. The distinct sound of the cocking of a gun greets his ears not long after, and Oliver knows the man has the weapon aimed directly at the back of his head. A shot this close is almost guaranteed to be fatal even with minimal placement training. But the weapon drawn on him is not Oliver’s immediate concern. It’s Felicity.

“You know, I really was hoping we wouldn’t need to resort to drastic measures. Our boss is pretty fond of your company and it’s recent developments, Oliver. It’s a shame really that your partnership has to end so suddenly like this. All because you couldn’t stay away from your little girlfriend here.”

Oliver’s jaw clenches in anger at the obvious way in which Solvate is toying with him. Disgust filling every ounce of his being as the man tightens his hold on Felicity when she jerks in his grasp.

“I see the appeal. Young, beautiful, willing… I bet she’s great in bed with all that youthful energy and what not. She’s got a fire in her, too. Maybe a little too much of it.”

The hand holding up his gun falls to his side and then disappears behind his back. It returns without the weapon, however, the man is not empty handed. Taking the gun’s place is a small syringe filled with clear liquid. Oliver’s eyes widen, then pull tight in anger as he begins to pull at his restraints.

“I swear to God, if you hurt her I will end you, Solvate!”

“Ah, ah, ah! I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The sharp end of the needle kisses the delicate skin of Felicity’s throat and punctures her skin, just enough to cause a small drop of blood to trickle down the pale column. Oliver’s struggles cease almost immediately at the sight.

“Good. Now, which of you do we get rid of first? The former billionaire philanderer turned golden boy of Starling, or the honorable Army sergeant with an overwhelming sense of loyalty?”

Solvate nods to the man standing behind Oliver. The muzzle of a gun presses into the base of his skull, but Oliver does not flinch, does not so much as blink. He’s been in worse situations than this.

“No! Oliver!”

The raw fear and desperation in Felicity’s screams slams into Oliver harder than any bullet ever could.

“Looks like we have ourselves a winner, gentlemen. Kill him.”

“NO!”

The following sequence of events seems to occur in slow motion and then all at once.

Felicity manages to get an arm free from Solvate’s hold and quickly uses it to jerk her elbow into his gut with all her might. Oliver loosens his zipties enough to slip one of his hands out. The gun goes off. The world falls to silence.

A high-pitched tone rings in Oliver’s ears as searing pain blossoms along the back of his scalp. The bullet had scarcely missed its intended target as he ducked down mere milliseconds before it was fired. He wastes no time moving into action, compartmentalizing the pain away for later. Grabbing the legs of the chair beneath him, Oliver quickly slides it through his legs and whirls around to face the mobster. He slams the metal piece of furniture into the side of his attacker’s head, dodging another bullet as he fires aimlessly in Oliver’s direction. With a swift kick to the man’s arm, he quickly disarms his assailant. Unfortunately, the assault does not succeed in incapacitating the man completely as he pulls out a knife and lunges at Oliver.

Cries of fury and pain submerge the room as the fighting continues. Somewhere in the background Oliver hears Felicity’s voice calling out. It serves to divert his attention from the fight as his eyes automatically search the room for her person. He locates Felicity, struggling on the ground with Solvate on top of her, and insurmountable rage consumes him. That split second of distraction is all the opportunity his opponent needs to get the jump on him.

Oliver reels backwards as he receives a vicious blow to the jaw, head whipping to the side and then forward as the other man latches onto the front of his shirt. He grabs the guy’s arm and the wrist of the hand holding the knife to block him from getting another hit in. The two push against one another, feet shuffling but not daring to leave the ground for fear of relinquishing their stability.

“Oliver, look out!”

The shout comes from Diggle, causing Oliver to turn his head in the older man’s direction. He finds Corallo’s gun trained on him, the man a breath away from pulling the trigger and lodging a bullet deep into Oliver’s chest. Shifting his weight, Oliver forces his opponent to stumble towards him. He uses the other man’s momentum to spin him around and face Corallo just as the gun goes off three times in succession. Oliver propels the man’s body forward with each impact, using him as a human shield as he advances on Corallo. When the firing stops, he lets the body fall to the floor in a lifeless heap.

Before Oliver gets the chance to charge at Corallo, Diggle breaks free of his own confines and does it for him. The older man strikes quickly and efficiently, delivering a swift jab to the man’s temple. It’s one of Digg’s perfected moves for incapacitating an opponent and Oliver knows before Corallo even hits the ground that he is out cold. There’s no time to dwell on that as he quickly twists around to locate Felicity.

Right as she stabs Solvate in the neck with the syringe he had threatened her with earlier and aggressively pushes down the plunger.

“You bitch!”

The man shoves Felicity into the ground, slamming her head into the unforgiving concrete. However, the action lacks its intended force as he quickly becomes disoriented, no doubt due to the sudden dosage of whatever drug was in that syringe, giving Felicity the opportunity to propel him off of her. Solvate makes a grab at the blonde’s waist that she narrowly evades as she rolls to her side. She fumbles at the space beside her for something that lies out of Oliver’s line of sight, even as he gets increasingly closer to them.

“Get back here you little brat!”

The man grips Felicity’s ankle and tugs her towards him.

“Don’t touch me!”

In one swift motion, Felicity flips onto her back to face Solvate, arms held straight out in front of her as she levels a gun with the center of his forehead. Their struggle halts immediately as the room fills with the sounds of heavy breathing. No one moves.

“Let. Go. Of. Me.”

She speaks the words as if each is it’s own sentence, punctuated by the gritting of her teeth and the tightening of her grip on the gun. Even in his rapidly increasing drugged up state, Solvate knows better than to defy her, letting his hand fall away from Felicity’s ankle and to the floor with a muted thud. His blown pupils remain trained on the weapon in her hand.

Felicity uses one hand to scoot herself back and out of Solvate’s reach, but keeps the gun aimed at his prone form. Tears of anger and rage flood her stormy blue eyes and as Oliver gets closer he can just make out the tiny tremors running through her tension-filled body.

“You hurt me. You drugged me. You tried to kill the people I care about.”

The tears Felicity has been holding back silently run down her cheeks. She presses her lips together to keep from making a sound and adjusts her grip on the handgun. Oliver slowly approaches her, stopping within a few feet of where she sits.

“Felicity…”

Her eyes flash to meet his and a small sob escapes Felicity before she returns her focus to the man on the ground, who is quickly succumbing to the drug in his system.

“I hate you.”

The words are barely audible from where Oliver stands, but he feels the hurt and the anger behind them as if she had screamed. She still has the weapon pointed at Solvate and for a fraction of a moment Oliver wonders if she’ll really do it, pull the trigger. But Felicity is not a spiteful person. She doesn’t let hatred or negativity consume her, even in the worst scenarios, even when it is beyond justified for her to feel such things. So when she suddenly moves, implementing the safety on the gun and tossing it to the ground, Oliver is already closing the distance between them and reaching out to gather her in his arms.

“Oliver.”

“Shh, shh, shh. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Felicity clutches at the fabric of his shirt and buries her head into his chest, seeking out the comfort he so readily offers. She does not release violent sobs or loud cries, just the occasional whimper as Oliver rocks her back and forth in his arms.

“It’s over. Everything is going to be okay now. You’re safe.”

Relief washes over him at the realization of how true his words are, so powerful and all consuming it leaves him winded. It really is over now. Once the police get here they’ll have all the evidence they need to take Bertinelli and his men into custody. All the threats to Felicity’s life, they’ll be over. She’ll be safe.

Oliver’s eyes press tightly together as he holds Felicity impossibly close to his body, never wanting to let her go. His hands gently run over the expanse of her back and waist, one tangling into her matted hair as he leans down to press a kiss against the crown of her head. If he’s being honest, he might need the contact more than Felicity does. He needs to feel her safe and breathing beneath his touch, to assure himself that all those nightmares that have deprived him of sleep for so long did not come to fruition. He needs to feel how alive she is.

Disentangling his hand from Felicity’s hair, Oliver slides it across her shoulder and between their bodies to gently, slowly rest his palm over the left side of her chest. It takes a moment, but he soon feels the fast-paced beating of her heart beneath his hand. Oliver lets the rhythm wash over him, submerge him, drown him until it’s all he knows. He loses himself in the irrefutable proof of Felicity’s existence.

The faint sound of police sirens echoes in the background, but Oliver never lets go.

Chapter Text

He sits at her bedside, large callused fingers running back and forth over the smooth expanse of her arm, feathering the white-blonde hairs that gently rest atop her skin. Up and down, back and forth, drawing aimless patterns, occasionally pausing to press against the pulse point at her wrist. He has been doing this for what feels like an eternity, but in reality can’t be more than an hour or two. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters outside of the fact that she is alive and safe and with him.

“Ollie?”

He hesitates for a moment, scared to take his eyes off of the blonde fast asleep in the hospital bed, scared that she’ll be taken away from him when he’s not looking. But eventually he does, turns to look at his sister with a gentle smile and accepts the coffee cup she offers him as she moves to take up the seat beside him.

Thea had refused to leave Felicity’s side since she and Moira arrived at the hospital minutes after Felicity, Oliver, and Diggle. His sister had clung onto her best friend’s hand for dear life and offered her a steady foundation through the flurry of exams and questionings administered by both the hospital staff and police personnel. It was something Oliver had wanted to do, but he knew that the bond between Felicity and Thea was just as strong as the one he shared with the blonde, if not stronger. His sister knew exactly what Felicity needed to hear and when. She knew what was going too far without being told. So he took a step back and used the time to collect himself and process everything that had happened. When the commotion died down a few hours later, Oliver was able to convince Thea to take a lap around the hospital with their mother, giving him some time alone with Felicity.

The hot beverage brings Oliver a small amount of comfort as he takes a grateful sip, just now realizing how exhausted he truly is.

“Thanks for the coffee. How’s mom?”

Thea sighs next to him and turns her gaze to her best friend as she replies.

“She’s okay. Dad just got here. Took the QC helicopter as soon as he could.”

“Good. Felicity will be happy to see him when she wakes up.”

Saying that Robert has become a pseudo father figure to Felicity may be a bit of a stretch, but there is no doubt that he cares for her almost as much as he cares for his own flesh and blood. For all of the man’s indiscretions, Robert Queen’s love for his children cannot be argued. On more than one occasion Oliver has found himself wondering how his father will take the news of his relationship with Felicity.

“Yeah, she will. He and mom are talking with the police right now about how much information will be shared with the public.”

The conversation pauses as Thea seems to mull over what to say next. There’s conflict in her eyes even as they remain trained on Felicity’s sleeping form.

“What is it, Speedy?”

The younger Queen draws in a breath before responding.

“Tommy came with him.”

“Oh.”

Oliver shouldn’t be surprised. Tommy may not be speaking to him, but he cares for Felicity like a little sister. Of course he would come to see her.

“Ollie, I know he didn’t take the news of you and Felicity well - ”

“He tried to punch me in the face.”

His sister shoots him a sharp look of admonishment before continuing.

“One I’m sure you probably deserve for something you’ve done in the past. Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, he has been worried sick over Felicity’s disappearance, texting and calling me constantly to see if we had any idea where she was. He asked about you, too.”

That catches Oliver by surprise, causing him to quickly transfer his gaze back to Thea.

“What?”

“Tommy may not be the biggest fan of you and Felicity together, but he’s still your best friend. He still cares about your well being. I think you should talk to him.”

“It’s… It’s not that easy, Thea.”

A noise of frustration leaves Oliver in the form of a sharp exhale. However, before he can explain why it’s not, he’s interrupted by a cautious knock on the door. Both Queen siblings turn their heads to look at the intruder, spotting one Tommy Merlyn with his head poked through the door.

“Uhm, hi. I just wanted to see how she’s doing.”

Thea speaks in a low tone so only Oliver can hear what she says as she gathers her things.

“Isn’t it though, big brother?”

“I can come back later if now is a bad time.”

Tommy awkwardly scratches at the back of his head as Thea rises from her seat, nervously shuffling from side to side in the doorway.

“No, that’s okay. I was just leaving. You guys should talk.”

Crossing the room, she pushes up on her toes to press a kiss against Tommy’s cheek and whispers something to him that Oliver can’t hear from his place at Felicity’s beside. Then she’s gone and a tense silence fills the room as the two men are left alone. Tommy continues to fidget in place before taking a few cautious steps forward.

“How is she?”

“She’ll be fine. There’s some nasty bruising and they had to stitch together a small cut at the base of her skull and one above her eyebrow, but aside from that and a minor concussion she’s okay.”

“Thea says they found traces of some kind of drug. Did they… Was she…?”

Oliver is quick to slam the brakes on that train of thought. He already went down that road while they took her away to administer the exam. It took a doctor, two nurses, and Felicity herself to reassure him that those men hadn’t touched her.

“No. She tested negative for sexual assault. It was only to keep her sedated.”

A long, drawn out sigh of relief leaves Tommy as he scrubs both of his palms over his face, shoulders falling from their tense state at the news.

“Thank God.”

Silence once again engulfs the room, and neither Oliver nor Tommy knows exactly what to say next. Instead of focusing on the stalemate between him and and his best friend, Oliver returns his attention to the sleeping girl whose hand he unconsciously moved to hold during his exchange with Tommy. He watches the rise and fall of her chest, counting the beats between each swell and finding solace in the steady rhythm of her breathing. A strand of golden hair has fallen across her face and Oliver reaches out to carefully tuck it behind her ear. Felicity unconsciously leans into the warmth of his hand, releasing a contented sigh when he briefly cups her cheek in his palm.

“You really love her, don’t you?”

Oliver answers without hesitation, loving gaze trained on the sleeping girl.

“I really do.”

Tommy stuffs his hands in his pockets and shuffles on his feet again before gingerly taking the seat Thea had occupied a few minutes ago. Oliver lets his hand fall from Felicity’s cheek and turns to his best friend with a questioning look in place.

“Listen man, I know I lost it when I found the two of you together, and I’m sorry for not hearing you out. But this is Felicity and she’s like a little sister to me. You can’t honestly say you wouldn’t be concerned if you suddenly found Thea and some older guy in a compromising position. An eighteen-year-old and a thirty-year-old, you’ve got to know how that looks.”

Oliver nods in understanding, because he does know how it looks. It looks bad. It looks like he’s taking advantage of her. It’s the reason he had tried fighting his feelings for as long as he did.

“I know, trust me I do. I fought long and hard with myself on this. But I’m your best friend, Tommy. You know me. Do you honestly think I would ever do that? Let alone to Felicity? Hell, do you think Felicity would ever let someone do that to her?”

“No, I don’t think either of you would. You genuinely care about each other, and once I moved beyond my initial shock and anger I saw that. I see that. Now I’m just hurt that you didn’t feel like you could come to me about it.”

“Tommy, you tried to give me a black eye.”

Arching an eyebrow, Oliver casts a look toward his best friend as if daring him to deny the fact. Tommy responds by raising both his hands in a sign of surrender as he replies.

“Okay, fair enough. Regardless of how I reacted initially, I want you to know now that I’m okay with it. Or at least getting there. I don’t wanna see you guys getting hot and heavy or anything, but you don’t have to hide from me anymore. You’re both important to me and if you make each other happy then I wish nothing but the best for the two of you.”

It feels like a weight has been lifted off of Oliver’s shoulders, one he didn’t even realize was there. Tommy’s disapproval hurt deeply, but it had fallen to the wayside in the wake of current events.

“Thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

“Me, too.”

Both men quickly divert their attention to the source of the soft, feminine reply. Her voice is sleep-filled and hushed, barely reaching above a whisper, but it’s enough to be heard in this quiet moment.

“Hey, Lissy. How are you feeling?”

Tommy smiles fondly at Felicity as she blinks her eyes to rid them of sleep. Once she does, she responds with a small smile of her own.

“Better.”

A series of coughs escape Felicity and Oliver quickly reaches for the glass of water at her bedside, holding the straw up in offering. She shifts in the bed to move into a more upright position and takes a few gracious sips, sighing as the cool liquid flows down her throat.

“Thanks.”

The two quickly get caught up in one another, reveling in the feel of being together again without an imminent threat nearby. The clearing of a throat draws their attention a moment later.

“Well then, I’m gonna go and let you two make heart eyes over each other in private.”

Oliver gives a good humored huff of annoyance at the term.

“I do not have ‘heart eyes’. Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Tommy and Felicity laugh at the slight exasperation in his tone, the former shifting to standing as he does so.

“Keep telling yourself that, buddy. Felicity, I’m really glad you’re okay.”

His best friend leans over the hospital bed railing to press a tender kiss to Felicity’s forehead, eyes briefly falling shut. It’s in that moment that Oliver can see just how much of an effect this ordeal has really had on Tommy. No matter how lighthearted he was acting, the thought of losing Felicity scared him almost as much as Oliver or Thea.

Tommy pulls away, striding across the room to the door. However, he pauses just shy of disappearing from the room and turns back around to say one last thing.

“Hey Oliver, if you break her heart, I’ll break your face. And a few other irreplaceable body parts along with it.”

With a quick wink to Felicity and a mock gesture of intimidation thrown in Oliver’s direction, Tommy quickly ducks out of the room.

Felicity’s tinkling laughter fills Oliver’s ears, the sound itself bringing light and warmth to the room that has been desperately missing these past few days. He didn’t realize how much he had missed it, not only her laughter but the overwhelming sense of belonging and happiness and home that come with being near her. The way Felicity can so easily bring light to the lives of those around her is something Oliver will never take for granted.

Before he gets a chance to say anything, the door opens yet again as Diggle enters the room.

“Well, someone is Mr. Popular today.”

Oliver gives a brief huff of laughter before responding to Felicity’s quip in a lighthearted tone that feels unfamiliar after these past few days of solemnity and exhaustion.

“I think they might be here for you.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

“Are you two lovebirds done or should I give you a couple minutes?”

Felicity gives a goodnatured roll of her eyes at Diggle’s remark before smiling widely at the older man as he approaches.

“Hi Digg. How are you?”

“I think I’m the one who should be asking you that. How are you feeling?”

Digg comes to a stop at her bedside, hands lightly resting on his hips. Oliver takes note of the way his friend’s eyes flicker to the machine tracking Felicity’s vital signs and the small nod of affirmation he gives when everything checks out alright.

“I’ve been worse. How’s everything out there?”

“That’s actually what I came to talk to the two of you about.”

Both Oliver and Felicity give the man a questioning look, shifting into more upright stances and silently encouraging him to continue.

“Frank’s daughter Helena just came forward with a bank of information on the mob’s operations. She has apparently been gathering intel for over a year now to hand over to the FBI and incarcerate her father.”

Felicity’s eyes widen in shock at the news and Oliver too finds himself surprised by this development. He had only spoken with Helena and her fiance Michael briefly at dinner that night, but he never picked up on the slightest hint of disapproval toward her father’s livelihood.

“Why would she do that?”

All Digg can reply to Oliver’s inquiry with is a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders.

“What does that mean going forward?”

“I’m not sure. Most likely they’ll put him on trial for multiple offenses, your kidnapping included. With all this evidence against him, I don’t see anyway Bertinelli will walk out of this a free man. The penalty for kidnapping in California is three to eight years, but organized crime can be a life sentence. It might also help your mom claim duress.”

Oliver studies Felicity’s face as she processes the information, watching the myriad of emotions play across her features. Shock, confusion, realization, worry, relief… they’re all there. He reaches out to take her hand in his and strokes his thumb back and forth across her knuckles in a soothing gesture. Felicity smiles at him gratefully before taking a deep breath to settle herself. She looks to Diggle with hopeful eyes, the bright blue reflecting an innocence that has somehow remained intact despite everything she’s been through.

“So my mom is going to be okay?”

“I’m no attorney, but from the sound of things your mom is going to be fine, Felicity.”

Sitting back in the hospital bed, Felicity allows Digg’s words to sink in. A tear of relief tracks down her cheek and she quickly reaches up to brush it away, laughing at her own emotional state.

“Sorry, I just…”

Diggle holds up a hand to stop the blonde’s struggle to find words at the same time that Oliver addresses her in a low, soothing voice.

“Hey, there’s no need to explain. You’ve been through a lot more than anyone should ever have to endure. Trust me, I’m an expert in that area.”

Felicity gives a short, hiccuping laugh of disbelief before lightly hitting him on the shoulder.

“Stop it. That isn’t funny.”

“You’re right, it’s not. But it got you to smile.”

She rolls her eyes at that, but the smile remains in place as she responds.

“God, you’re such a cheeseball. Speaking of, I could really go for some junk food right now. These IV fluids are great and all, but I think I hear a cheeseburger somewhere calling my name.”

Her smile transitions into an adorable grin, eyebrows raised in a silent question at the two men.

“I think I’m getting a toothache from being in the room with you two and there’s a Big Belly around the corner. I’ll go pick something up and see if I can sneak it past the nurse’s station.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re my hero, Digg?”

The older man smiles down at the blonde as he shrugs on the jacket previously folded over his arm, getting ready to leave.

“I believe the words ‘knight’ and ‘shining armor’ were used once. The usual? Extra pickles?”

“Yes, please!”

The endearing, tooth bearing grin Felicity gives Diggle has Oliver’s heart beating just a little faster. He went days without seeing her smile or knowing if he ever would again. That realization slams him hard in the chest and causes his breath to catch in his throat. He barely registers Diggle’s departure from the room aside from the sounds of the door clicking shut.

Lost in the onslaught of emotion, Oliver leans in without realizing to press a soft, tender kiss to Felicity’s lips. His hand cradles the base of her head, fingers sliding between soft golden strands of hair as he changes their angle to deepen the kiss. When they break apart he doesn’t move away, opting instead to rest his forehead against hers and embrace the feeling of finally being close to her once again. They’re both slightly out of breath, lips parted and just brushing against each other with each ragged inhale.

“I love you. You have no clue how terrified I was that I would never get the chance to tell you that again, never get to show you. God, Felicity, I was such a mess. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I - ”

A small hand reaches up to cradle his jaw, Felicity’s soothing yet insistent voice stopping him from going any further.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m here now, okay? I’m here and I’m safe and I’m with you. It’s all gonna be okay now.”

Oliver closes his eyes and leans into the palm of her hand. His eyes remain shut as he whispers his response.

“I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“You don’t have to.”

She must feel the tension still in his body because Felicity quickly moves to take his face in both of her hands, slightly shifting him away from her.

“Oliver, look at me.”

She waits for him to do as told before continuing, gaze steadily locked onto his.

“I am not going anywhere. Well except for back to school in the fall, which we also need to talk about but that’s a conversation for a later date. Anyway, the point is that I’m here now and I’m safe. No one is going to hurt me anymore. I am going to be fine, Oliver Queen. You hear me?”

The conviction in her eyes blazes with a ferocity that he’s seen matched by very few in life. He lets himself get lost in it, borrowing from the strength of the incredible woman before him. And then he allows himself to believe her.

“Okay.”

Felicity searches his eyes, making sure he’s not just agreeing with her for the sake of agreeing. A loving smile graces her lips when she sees that he’s not.

“Okay. And one more thing.”

“What?”

Instead of answering, she leans forward to press a deep kiss against his mouth, letting everything she’s just said poor into the action. Oliver loses himself in the kiss, giving just as much as he gets. When Felicity pulls away, they’re both breathing a little heavier than they were before.

“I love you, too. Always.”

He echoes her without hesitation.

“Always.”

It is in that moment that he knows they’ll be the ones that make it all the way to the end. Through the good and the bad that is yet to come, all the trials and tribulations that life has planned for them, they’re going to push through it all together. This, them, it’s the stuff people spend a lifetime searching for. It’s the kind of love and partnership people write poems and songs and novels about. And it’s something Oliver never imagined would ever be possible for someone as damaged as him. Yet somehow here they are and he’s never been more sure of anything in his life.

He doesn’t tell her this right now. In fact, he doesn’t tell her how sure he is of them for a long, long time.

He doesn’t tell her as they say goodbye after she unpacks the last of her things in her Cambridge apartment 3,000 miles away from Starling City come September. He doesn’t tell her when they’re sitting in a courtroom, facing the man who almost ripped Felicity from this world as the word ‘guilty’ rings out with sharp finality. He doesn’t tell her when they almost break up two years later because she has MIT and he has Queen Consolidated and the distance is killing them slowly. Nor does he tell her when he gets down on one knee and asks her to spend the rest of her life with him the same day she graduates with a dual degree in computer science and cyber security. And as valedictorian, no less. He doesn’t tell her of his surety eight years from now when they make a vow in front of one hundred of their closest friends and family, her mother included, to always be there for each other. Even when she gives birth to their beautiful twins at twenty-nine on what is easily the happiest day of his life, Oliver still doesn’t tell her.

Instead he whispers it to her on a hospital bed years and years and years later when his voice is hoarse with old age and he can feel his body shutting down on him. He tells her with her tear stained cheeks captured in the palms of his weathered hands and the sound of his heartbeat slowing down in the background.

“Felicity,” he says. “I always knew we would make it to the end.”

And they do.