Disclaimer - I do not own Arrow.

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~Spring~

"It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want—oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!" ― Mark Twain

As the days grew longer and the nights grew warmer he began to realize that no matter what he told himself, no matter how much he convinced himself that this was wrong, he could not make himself walk away from this woman. This light that shone so bright it almost blinded him.

She was his beacon on a cold winters day, beckoning him towards the warmth that only home could provide. Because that's what she had become, unbeknownst to the both of them, she had become his world and saving grace. After he had endured torture, flirted with death on countless occasions, and seen firsthand all the horrors that life had to offer, she was the one thing that could bring him out of the darkness which threatened to overwhelm him each day.

And he wanted her, God how he wanted her. Wanted in absolutely every sense of the word; mind body and soul. He wanted to talk to her, to hear her musical voice babble about things that he didn't have a chance of comprehending. He wanted to hold her in his arms, never to let go, as his fingers brushed through the tresses of her golden locks that acted as her own personal halo. But he also wanted her panting and withering beneath him, screaming his name until her voice was hoarse from the strain. He had imagined how being with her would be like a thousand times over, had on numerous occasions thought of how each crevice of her body would look like as he undressed her and allowed his eyes to finally feast on her.

His mind was snatched from any further daydreams as the sound of her heels echoed throughout the foundry, the space that he had learned to call home for the past couple of months.

"Oliver".

And he was still shocked at all the both hidden and conspicuous meanings that were caught up in that one word as she utters it. It's both a greeting and a chastising.

Are you okay?

Have you even slept?

What are you doing here on our one day off?

He chooses to answer the first unasked question because it seems to be the easiest.

"I'm fine Felicity, just thought I'd get a workout in while its still quiet in QC".

She studies him for a second and he swears that she can see right into the very depths of his soul. He's very aware of the fact that she knows he's avoiding telling her all the things on his mind but as always she doesn't press. Unlike everybody else in his life she never demands more of him, doesn't ask questions that even he doesn't have answers to.

Maybe that was the reason she was the only one he had ever wanted to open up to since Lian Yu.

He watches as she slowly nods her head and moves away from him in the direction of her babies, allowing a sense of calm to wash over him. It's the only thing that can keep him calm these days if he's being entirely honest with himself, to have her here, under his watchful gaze, away from the danger and pain that the wicked world can inflict on her. No, these are the moments he craved, just the two of them in their own little world doing their own things, together even though they technically weren't together.

It was hours later that he finally moved away from the training mats towards her, careful to make noise in the hopes of not spooking her. He should have known better as the instant his fingers reach her shoulder her hands are flying from her keyboard as she lets out a squeal of surprise and turns her chair to face him, dislodging his hand from its perch on her shoulder in the process.

And he can't for the life of him contain the smile that overcomes his face when she looks up at him with a mixture of mirth and annoyance. Nor can he withhold his laughter when she sees said smile and proceeds to slap and whack him for having the audacity to laugh at her in the first place.

"I really should put a bell on you, your stealth is getting out of hand," she says, but there is no malice in her words, just the easy amusement of a threat that she would never fulfill.

His hand, ever the traitor, has already unbeknownst to him found its way to her shoulder yet again and he only realizes the gesture when he sees her tilt her head ever so slightly towards it, as if she desperately wants to put her cheek on it but is fighting a loosing battle with herself.

This is the way they had always been, too scared to touch one another beyond the everyday modest touches but not being able to keep their distance all together. They had always been drawn to each other and the subtle touches were at this point more of a necessity to him. He needed them like he needed air to breathe. He needed to feel her warm under his fingertips, needed to feel her pulse strong and alive under his palm.

He allows his thumb to continue drawing circles just below the bone of her shoulder, consciously this time, as he says his next words.

"Do you want to go grab lunch?"

Its not a date, they have had lunch together before, but he still wonders why this feels like the beginning of something new. But he pushes that thought to the back of his mind.

He has long ago given up fighting this, fighting her, fighting them. He wants this, wants this more than he has ever wanted anything in his life.

And if this is the start of something between them, the first blossoms in the first days of spring, he was so happy that his winter was finally breaking. That the cold was finally letting go of the reigns on his heart and his soul.

Yes, Felicity Smoak was his shining beacon, his breath of fresh air as she nods her head in agreement, already on a tangent about where the best place to eat out was as she gathers her things.

Yes things were changing; he couldn't wait to see where these changes would lead.