A/N: So I get this email from ladygris that comes with a photo of Stephen Amell shirtless, shooting an arrow, and a demand for a fic. There's a caption, but let's talk about that later. ;-)
Namaste,
Sunny
Arrow
The Workout
Nighttime in Sterling City showed the beauty of the city while covering up the ugliness underneath, and no one knew just what that entailed the way Oliver Queen and his friends did. Their home was like an apple that was rotten on the inside. Looking at the shiny red outside, one would think it sweet and juicy, but a single bite showed its true nature.
Pushing black framed glasses up from where they kept sliding down her nose, Felicity let herself into the secret room beneath Verdant. She dropped into a chair, powered up the computer system and tried to ignore the sounds of fists hitting flesh accompanied by grunts and the occasional swearing in several languages. But thought she tried to keep her mind on the work she did outside of Queen Consolidated, her attention kept straying to the workout area where Oliver and Diggle were pounding on each other. They called it a workout. Felicity shook her head and averted her eyes once more.
A few minutes later, Diggle walked past her with a towel around his neck, taking off his gloves. He opened the refrigerator, removed bottles of water, gave one to her, a second to Oliver and kept the third for himself. The two men talked quietly for a few minutes, and though Felicity tried to listen in, she couldn't make out more than a few words, none of them helpful. Then Diggle picked up his gym bag. "'Night, Felicity."
"Drive carefully, John."
He winked at her, adding a small smile. "Count on it."
When he was gone, Oliver removed his shirt, took out his custom made bow and a handful of arrows, carrying them to his personal practice range. From there, he couldn't see her staring so she watched without shame for doing so. Yes, she realized that she had this weird fangirl thing going on for her boss, but it was a harmless fantasy. So what if she sometimes dreamed that she was a beautiful damsel in distress and he the handsome hero, or that she was a costumed heroine fighting at his side? No one could read her mind or see into her dreams, right?
So, while he concentrated on impaling tennis balls with arrows, she focused on Oliver's rock-hard abs and rippling biceps. As if he knew he was being watched, he stopped for a moment, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. She sighed as his chest expanded and contracted.
Closing her eyes, her voice a sexy growl, she muttered, "Oh, yeah, baby. Let's see some more of that."
Felicity's eyes popped open and a small gasp came out when Oliver's warm breath brushed over her ear, "Did you say something?"
"Uh, no. No, I didn't." She looked at him and away guiltily. "Um, I should be, you know, working on…something."
Oliver nodded and smiled. "So when are you going to let Dig and I teach you self-defense?"
"Um, I, uh, don't know."
"Soon," he said with a mock stern look in his gorgeous blue eyes.
As he turned away, Felicity couldn't tell if he was smirking or if her imagination supplied it. When he returned to the range, she said to herself, "Hi, I'm Oliver Queen. I don't always train shirtless, but when I do, I do it where lonely single women can drool over me."
Somewhere, a door slammed, but she barely noticed as she went back to watching Oliver train.
End