Title: Ask
Word Count: 547

Notes: Sorry this is short but I've been really migraine-y this week and I can barely focus on the screen right now. Thanks for reading!


When Felicity walks into the lair, she's met with a normal scene: Oliver punching a training dummy and Diggle casually leaning against the computer desk. When Digg hears her on the stairs, he turns. Oliver doesn't, but she expected that. Even though he no doubt smelled her approach from a mile off, she isn't surprised to find he's trying to avoid her after he kissed her last night.

"Good evening, Fel—" Digg starts, but he falters a moment later as he takes in her appearance.

Nodding once in resignation, Felicity replies, "Go ahead. Ask."

"What the hell happened to you?" is his question, put as succinctly as ever.

Sighing as she collapses into her computer chair, she motions to the bruise on her cheek. "I was mugged coming out of the QC parking lot," she answers with a frown, closing her eyes. The rhythmic noise of Oliver beating the training dummy stops immediately. She thought that might get his attention. "Some guy stole my tablet. And my purse, I guess." Motioning to her face, she adds, "He hit me in the face when I asked if I could just get my tablet out first. And he split my lip." Technically, Oliver split her lip last night when he kissed her, but this was a far better explanation than she could have come up with on her own.

A ghost of a touch is on her cheek a moment later. Felicity's eyes fly open, even though she knew those callused fingers the moment they touched her skin. "How badly did he hurt you?" Oliver asks, and she winces. Though his expression is soft, his voice holds nothing but murder. Figures; he takes any random thing that happens to her personally.

She brushes his hand away—mainly because she can only think of him cupping her cheek when he kissed her. "It's just a few bruises, Oliver," she assures him. "And a twisted ankle from when he shoved me. It's not a big deal."

"Maybe not to you," he allows. When Felicity rolls her eyes, he adds in a sharp voice, "You're my donor, Felicity." Oliver sighs, running a hand over his face. "What you and I have is an exchange. I know you don't think you do much, but you help to keep me alive. In exchange for that, I'm supposed to protect you."

Shaking her head, Felicity answers, "You can't save me from everything, Oliver." He opens his mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand. "I'm going to get hurt every now and again. That isn't your fault."

"It might not be," he agrees after a moment, touching her shoulder once before moving to the case where his Arrow gear is. "But I still have a responsibility to you, Felicity." She turns her head as he starts changing clothes—that's the last thing she needs to see right now, when her feelings for Oliver are already confused. "I'm going to go get your tablet."

She huffs. "Oliver, I didn't ask you to—"

He pokes his head out to reply, "You didn't have to."