Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I hope you like it. This one will have more action and adventure than my previous stories. Please note that things do get steamy in future chapters so…NSFW.

XxXxXxX

It would be a tremendous understatement to say that Felicity Smoak was angry. No, she had worked up a head of steam capable of driving a locomotive. The current situation was unbearable and needed to be resolved, quickly, before any more lives were lost.

For this reason, Felicity was not back in the chamber where she had just had insane "finally we are having sex" sex with Oliver (so far she was refusing to call him Al-Saheem). Instead, she was standing in a dark anteroom waiting to meet with the first of two men who had contributed to this terrible situation she now faced. Her mind was still a little distracted with glimpses of passion. Oliver's arms enveloping her. His mouth stealing her sighs. The feel of his hips in her hands as her thumbs rubbed the indentations in his nearby muscles. This was her happy place.

Then the door swung open. Frack. The Demon's Head brushed past her and muttered the word, "Come." She followed in silence.

Ra's Al Ghul always looked shorter than she expected in person. But he made up for it in sheer gravitas, resulting in him seeming like quite a formidable man. He wore heavy brown robes and his beard was trimmed carefully – probably by some minion. This led Felicity to thinking what a lousy job it would be to be beard trimmer to the Demon's head. Was that a job? She snorted a laugh and mentally kicked herself in the face. Now was not the time to climb down the free-association rabbit hole. Ra's looked at her disdainfully as he moved to sit in a carved chair near a row of velvet drapes.

Felicity studied him for a moment before speaking. She knew she hardly had a chance of affecting the current situation, but she had to do something. And the first step towards any progress was getting to know the enemy. Oliver's enemy. Her enemy.

"I hope you aren't here to waste my time begging, Miss Smoak. If you have changed your mind about becoming the consort of Al-Saheem there are a dozen other females here eager to take your place tomorrow."

I'll bet there are, she thought. Hands off, bitches.

"No, that isn't it. I wanted to meet with you to discuss Oli- Al-Saheem's new role. How I can, as his…" she nearly stumbled on the next word – it was so archaic, "consort, be most…useful to him and to the League, of course."

Ra's eyed Felicity warily. This slip of girl with bright lipstick and a ponytail was a wildcard in his mind. He waved to the hassock nearby, indicating that she should sit. She drew closer and lowered herself.

"I am not entirely confident that you will be an asset. I have heard you are very intelligent. Resourceful."

"That's true. Top of my class, actually."

"But you are a terrible fighter. If I handed you a sword you would probably injure yourself with it before you landed a blow on me. Even if I stood still and my eyes were closed." Felicity's brow knitted, wishing he wasn't right about that.

"I am not that bad. Besides, physical strength doesn't always win a battle. I took down Slade Wilson, you know. And he was a big, scary guy drugged with Mirakuru."

"I am not familiar with Mirakuru."

"It's a nasty drug that makes people into superhuman monsters," she rushed as Ra's eyebrow rose. "He also had an eyepatch, like a pirate. A scary monster pirate." She waved her arms around and pantomimed. "Wait, his patch with on this side and I was here…Did I get the drop on Slade because I took advantage of his visual impairment? How am I just thinking of that? Crap. " Ra's sighed. Loudly.

Ra's stood up and approached her. He loomed over her. "You have a manner that seems rather ridiculous, Miss Smoak. Lighthearted. This is a serious place." Felicity looked down at the floor, trying to stop the vocal diarrhea she was currently afflicted with. After all, this visit was about getting Ra's to talk, not her.

"But if whispers around Nanda Parbat are true, the noises coming from Al-Saheem's bedchamber last night indicate that you and the Heir are physically compatible."

Felicity's eyes' widened and her face turned pink. You have no idea, pal. She plastered on a smile and nodded. Learning there was a gossip mill within the League was a useful tidbit of information.

"Yup... pretty…awesome." She looked around, avoiding eye contact.

"Well, perhaps I should have taken you for myself…as a parting gift." Ra's leaned toward her, crowding her personal space. Felicity snapped her gaze up to meet his eyes.

"Wait. I don't think you can do that." Felicity felt a full on babble coming. Ra's Al Ghul pulled back and pivoted away.

"I understand that you are capable in the field of digital communications. The League will benefit from that."

Great, she thought. If MIT ever finds out they are so disinviting me from the alumni mixers.

"But, of course, your main role will be to support Al-Saheem and produce heirs."

Felicity's mind whirred. She had learned that her official activities would now be limited to 1) working with computers – hurray, and 2) having regular stress-reducing/baby making sex with Oliver – hell yeah. She nodded slowly, signaling obedience.

"Umm, regarding the whole producing heirs thing. I mean, you have heirs, blood heirs, but chose Oliver. Were you chosen or did you inherit the…honor?"

Ra's began to walk the length of the room.

"I was the son of very ordinary people. My father owned a grocery store in our village. But I chafed at the smallness of my home and its people. So, I left to find a life for myself. Out in the world, I was vulnerable. I fought anyone and everything that crossed my path. And then I found the League. The Demon's Head saw something in me and after proving myself in many battles, he anointed me the Heir, as I have chosen your man."

"I see. What happens when Al-Saheem steps up to take your place? I mean, what happens to you? Retirement? Do you go off on walkabout or get a condo in Boca or what?"

"The path is different for every Demon's Head. After I was installed, my predecessor reabsorbed back into the League as a nameless, faceless entity, just like any other member. I never saw him again. His predecessor stepped off the edge of a cliff. As for my path…it shall be revealed in time."

"I see."

"On that, Miss Smoak, I must end this discussion. You have much to do to prepare for the ceremony. And I am still the Demon's Head for the time being." The look on Ra's Al Ghul's face told her that she was being dismissed.

"Thank you," she jumped up, causing the hassock to groan against the stone floor. Felicity rushed out of the room, anxious to put space between her and Ra's. She stopped in the hallway outside and gathered her wits. Just sharing the same space as that man was unsettling. She longed to rush to Oliver's side and bury her cheek against his warm neck for reassurance, but she had another important task to complete before she could slip he hands inside his cloak and feel him.

XxXxXxX

When Malcolm Merlyn answered the knock at his door, he wasn't expecting Felicity Smoak to rush in. Closing the wooden panel behind her, he certainly wasn't anticipating the blonde's first move would be stride forward and knee him in the crotch. But that was exactly what she did.

"What the hell?" he gasped. His small chamber whirled around him.

Felicity fist-pumped the air and seethed, "I've been wanting to do that for such a long time."

Merlyn, slightly hunched over, looked at her with surprised, angry eyes. "It's not a smart idea to overstep, Miss Smoak."

Felicity stood defiantly in front of him. "Oh, I don't think you'll be doing anything about it. After all, I have kind of special status around here now. It wouldn't be healthy to mess with the Heir's consort."

Malcolm nodded, regaining his breath and posture.

"Did you just come here to work out your frustrations? Pre-wedding night performance issues got you down?"

"Oh, you really don't want to go there. As a matter of fact, there are no issues at all. Just ask anybody. Apparently it's the talk of the monastery." She paused. "That sounded weird."

The Dark Archer's eyes narrowed and he tilted his head with an unspoken question.

The thought of gossip got Felicity's paranoia going and she scanned the room. Spotting thick tapestries at the far wall, she motioned for him to follow her. He watched incredulously as she stopped at one of them, lifted it and ducked behind it. Her hand reached out and summoned him to join her. At this point, he was so disoriented by her, he shrugged his shoulders and slipped under the curtain. This was completely ridiculous.

"Why are we here?" Maybe Felicity Smoak had lost her mind. It was a distinct possibility, given everything he knew she had gone through.

"It's important that no one overhears this conversation. Our lives depend on it." Felicity used her elbow to push the tapestry away, letting some light in while it muffled their voices to prying ears passing outside the chamber.

"Go ahead."

"I came here because you are a despicable excuse for a human being. Your hubris got us into all of this. I could go on all day about the terrible things you have done to people and the consequences of your screwed up brain. But as much as I hate to even look at you, I recognize that you may be of use. To me." She moved close enough to qualify as being "in his face." He leaned back as she continued, staring with dark eyes, shaded by the woven fabric.

"So you are going to do everything in your power to help me fix this clusterfuck or I am going to end you in every way I possibly can." Her voice was steady and matter of fact. "And while Oliver feels that it's important to spare you because you are Thea's father, I do not agree. I know from personal experience that blood doesn't automatically deserve loyalty. Or respect. So, you are going to help me and maybe, just maybe you'll work off a tiny sliver of the pain you've caused countless people."

Merlyn's intense expression crumbled. He closed his eyes for a moment and leaned back against the wall.

"How is Thea today?" she asked, her tone softer and filled with concern.

"She's still unconscious. But her body seems to be responding well." Malcolm watched her concerned expression. He recalled that Felicity always looked concerned when talking about other people. He laced his fingers together and brought them up to his lips. "What do you want from me, then?"

"For now, I need you to tell me about this place and these people. Everything. The League of Assassins isn't something I can research on the web and I need inside information from someone who has lived as a part of it." Malcolm nodded in recognition, thinking already about the significance of her request and the deadly consequences of his participation. "I just came from talking to Ra's and –"

"What? You talked to Ra's?" Merlyn's eyes grew wide. Just the image of the two of them having a conversation was beyond ludicrous. He took a turn holding the tapestry as Felicity's elbow faltered. "How did you manage that?"

"Like I said, when you are the consort to the future Demon's Head..."

"And you don't seem to be bleeding. Impressive. You know, after your ceremony tomorrow, Oliver is one step closer."

Felicity tilted her head back at him, waiting for him to stop talking.

"Right now the only thing I have going for me here is that I am an unknown quantity to these people. Ra's doesn't think I can fight. So I also need you to teach me." Malcolm quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Digg and Sara trained me a little, but this place is lethal." She wrapped her arms around her chest, suddenly feeling a chill from the honesty of her own words. "Look I am sure I will never be as good as anyone here, but hopefully just being better than is expected of me will be enough. So, no one can know about it."

Malcolm nodded his recognition. She was right about needing to be able to protect herself. Nanda Parbat was a dangerous place, even for the Consort. She might even have to fight off rivals for Oliver's affection. There were ambitious women in the League who would be happy to see him a widower.

"So, you find out everything about the League. You learn how to fight. How are you planning to get Oliver out of his commitment?"

"I'm not, actually. That would take too long."

"So you're resigned to becoming –"

"Yeah, Mrs. Demon's Head. That is so wrong. But the stationery would look really cool, right?"

Malcolm huffed and shifted his weight against the wall while she threatened to rabbit-hole. Up until this moment, Malcolm had no idea how the blonde fit with Oliver Queen's broody intensity. But now he saw it. Since returning from the island, Oliver gave off the vibe of a low steady beat and this young lady was an erratic pulse, a shock that defibrillated him every time he threatened to shut down. They kept each other alive.

"No one, even Oliver Queen, can quit this, Felicity." It was the first time he had called her by her first name and hearing it made her grimace.

"Oh, Oliver isn't going to…there will be no quitting." The words dripped from her pink-stained pout.

Merlyn's curiosity reflected in his eyes as she started to chuckle.

"You aren't only looking at the Consort to Al-Saheem." What she was about to say was making her excited and nervous at the same time.

"Ra's just made me IT girl to the League of Assassins…which means now I get to burn it to the ground."