A/N: So, if finally kicked myself out of my ''not daring to post'' state of mind. This story existed a while (like, after the dodger), but I was to afraid to place it online. But, what the hack, I will just try and see the response.
So please review, let me know what you think (good, bad, IC, OC, etc. etc.) so I can try to make my next story better. At the moment this is a one-shot, but maybe I can add a few chapters. Just let me know if you're interested.

Oh, and I'm from the Netherlands, so English isn't my native language. And it isn't beta'd (yet).

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Unfortunately.

''Oliver, I know you don't want to hurt this girl, and you didn't have any choice in telling her who you really were but.. We're asking her to get involved in some pretty dangerous stuff.''
'''We can protect her.''
''How?''

'You're kidding right? Because you need to know there is no way that I would ever do that.'

'You, with the dodger.. It almost cost you your live. Don't you think that proves my point?'

Felicity was sitting at her desk at the foundry – well, to be precise, the desk, but since she was the one who always sat behind it working, she thought about it as her own. This afternoon, she started with a new angle on her search for Walter in the hope of finding a tiny piece of the puzzle. She was still busy writing the code of the software, when her boss had begun to speak about protection and defense. Which lead him to his latest argument about the dodger.

It had been two days since she last saw Oliver. Two days since a psychopathic thief dressed her up with a bomb collar to make her do whatever he liked. She had been wrong to confront him about the jewelry he had stolen, it was a nice piece – expensive too – but it wasn't worth dying for. If Mr. Queen hadn't been around, she would have been dead. Wires may be wires, but if the wiz kind can't see the wires, then they could just as easily be spaghetti . She did realize she had been in life threatening danger. Oliver didn't have to point it out to her.

She frowned. Did she actually came up with three different ways to think about how dead she could be in just one fast thought? Even her mind was rambling now a days. That was probably because she got distracted when Oliver was training at the foundry. There was just too much to look at. The way his muscles flexed made her feel breathless, and the scars that she was able to see made her question what more he was hiding under his clothes. She felt the blush creep over her cheeks. No Felicity, don't even think about it!

When she heard him clearing his throat, she realized that she had zoned out, instead of giving him an answer to his question. She looked up to him, trying to hide the fact that she was thinking about him, instead of the discussion they were having.

''Look Oliver, is it really necessary? I don't want to… It's just that… You know…''
The concerned look on his face was enough to keep her from speaking out loud. Something that was short of a miracle, knowing that she would have blurted out her worries – and anything else – if she found a way to start the sentence.
The problem was, that as soon as his face softened, her babble mouth opened up and spilled it. Just her luck.

''…I have seen you fight Oliver. There is no way that I stand a chance against you. You probably break both my arm before you even notice and then where would I be? An IT-girl with plastered arms is useless.'' She looked at him, honesty in her eyes and shifted her glasses higher up her nose.

''I would never hurt you, Felicity.'' His deep dark voice spoke slowly and with an emphasis on the never. She saw how his jaw clenched, his eyes looking towards her. She knew it wasn't a lie, but she knew it wasn't the truth also. And he realized that to. He maybe would never hurt her on purpose, but when his instinct would take over… Let's just say that they both knew he was a fighter.

'Felicity,' he tried again, 'It's just a basic self-defense lesson. No surprises, so no danger from me, okay?' He looked into her eyes while his hand reached for hers. His fingers touched the back of her hand, o so gentle and soft.
'Trust me.'

She knew she always would.