Her life has been threatened.
Again.
And it wasn't like it was mortal danger. It was just being threatened. They wouldn't have killed her. Felicity knew that. They argued too much amongst each other- everything seemed too last minute- there was no real cohesiveness for them to really kill her.
Which led her to wonder who they were.
The typical ski masks they were wearing didn't stop her from rolling her eyes. She knew Oliver would come. Or Laurel. Because you know, now she was on the team.
No where near Sara's expertise- or... kindness or sincerity- but she could kick some major ass.
The message had been sent out, and Felicity had already calculated in her mind that it would take Oliver 16 minutes to get to where she was. She knew how long it would take him to put on his suit- with that injured shoulder he was sporting these days, and how long precisely he would argue with Laurel before he just walked out the door, telling her that Felicity was part of the team- and this was important. She knew that Roy would have his suit on immediately too- tell Oliver he really didn't have a choice in this matter. Felicity was his friend too- his only friend, and he couldn't care less if Oliver didn't want him to come.
She knew Dig would already have the car waiting, his gun loaded, and they would drive silently, albeit a bit faster than usual to the destination.
Felicity also knew that Detective Lance was probably just around the corner- waiting for the vigilante. As much as he trusted himself, and as much as she trusted him- she knew he would wait for Oliver. Because no one fucked with the vigilante when his blonde IT girl was involved. Not even Detective Lance.
As they slapped her around a little, her eyes prickling, Felicity wondered- not for the first time, when Lance would just admit he knew it was Oliver. It would be so much easier.
Who could be the only man in the world that could change Laurel's belief that the vigilante was actually a hero?
Why, Oliver Queen, of course.
Or Tommy.
Not for the first time, Felicity found herself wondering about Tommy in life threatening situations. She wished she had known him. She wished he could have joined Team Arrow. She wished he had a chance to see the real change Oliver was bringing to their city.
She didn't know much about Tommy- other than the night Sara died, and Laurel took her name, and Oliver got drunk- and he slurred threw stories of their childhood together. She listened, stayed strong for him, and helped him back to his cot in the new lair before silently crying herself. For the man he could have been had all this not happened to him. For the happy stories she wished he had. For Sara. For Tommy. For Moira. For every single person who died on Oliver's watch. And for every single death that chipped away at Oliver, adding just a bit more self doubt and loathing to his shoulders.
He came in 14.
She ducked her head and tried so hard not to cry out, as Dig shot his gun and she heard the whoosh of the Arrows.
She knew he'd killed them.
She didn't have to look, or ask- she just knew.
That was something she forced herself not to think about. Why the Count and not the Dollmaker?
No. This wasn't the time.
Never was the time.
And then they were in the lair. Laurel making some passive aggressive comment that she should really brush up on her fighting skills- Oliver telling Laurel that they would discuss it later and Dig just coming to stand next to Felicity- shielding her from the troubles of 'Lauriver'.
"Let me take a look at that," Oliver said, finally- addressing her, and when she looked up at him confused, he touched the side of her head.
It stung.
Maybe they did a bit more than just slap her around.
"I'm fine, Oliver- honestly."
"Felicity."
The way he said her name had two simultaneous oxymoronic affects.
It calmed her down, and at the same time, fuelled the butterflies in her stomach that she tried so hard to kill.
"Fine."
She turned her head to show him and noted that Dig was gone. So was Laurel. But Roy was practicing his shooting at the far end of the lair.
"What'd they want?" she asked. "Because they didn't tell me. And I'm not sure why they took me- because I'm not the one you kidnap to get to the Arrow- or Oliver Queen really- Slade proved that, and I'm pretty sure there's some network for Villains underground. It must be have been a memo by now- gorgeous Laurel. Always kidnap gorgeous Laurel. The woman who Oliver Queen loves."
She trailed off when she saw that he hadn't made a move to stop her. Usually he cracked a smirk when she babbled. Other times, he rested his hand on her shoulder. When he was feeling particularly daring, he said her name.
"I need you to leave."
She blinked. There was no way he was saying what she thought he was.
"To go home?" she responded- pretending to not understand.
"That's not what I meant," he bit out.
"I know," She found herself saying. "It was a chance to change your story." He sighed, like he always did when they fought, his eyes looking up at the ceiling as if waiting for Tommy to give him some answer. And then completely ignoring that answer and doing what he wanted to anyways. "Oliver, I'm fine," she reassured.
"You were kidnapped as leverage!" he yelled. She didn't flinch. Oliver always yelled.
"Because the whole world knows I know the Vigilante," she stated. It was true. It was no secret that she had been questioned by Lance once upon a time. "Is this about Laurel?"
"Excuse me?" Much like when she told him to get his head out of his ass.
"We seem to have conflicting... views."
Like the fact that the man standing in front of her was named Oliver - not Ollie. Or that the earth revolved around the sun, not Laurel Lance. Or that team Arrow consisted of five members, not two. Or that Oliver needed to do what he was doing for his own good- and couldn't be talked out of it- not matter who's birthday it was. Or who's AA meeting he was supposed to attend.
"This has nothing to do with Laurel."
He was standing or more like, towering over her now, like he always did, but it wasn't to be intimidating. It was to show how scared he was. How much he was feeling in that moment. Like when she and Dig found him sitting in the new lair, after Moira's death and she tried to stop him from turning himself over to Slade.
"Oliver," she said quietly, reaching up for his bicep- something she only did when she was being completely serious, and needed him to understand. "Today was scary, I know- but you can't just decide you want to ship me off to Gotham. Or Central City."
"Can't I?"
"They both have vigilantes of their own," she laughed. "I'll just be their girl." She meant to say IT girl. She really did- but it came out as their girl, and she couldn't take it back. She pretended she imagined the tick in Oliver's jaw. "We'd still see each other at the monthly Vigilante Club meetings, though," she joked. "And birthdays. Can't forget birthdays."
She saw him crack that smirk he was so good at, and felt like she had accomplished so much more in that second, than she ever could have during her years at MIT.
"I need you to be safe."
She told her heart not to take it seriously. Not to flutter. Or skip a beat. Oliver needed the whole city to be safe- not just her and that's what he meant.
But her heart didn't listen. It did flutter. And skip a beat, and she knew she was blushing too, when she couldn't look him in the eye.
"The safest place for me- is with you."
And she truly meant that. She would bet her life on it that if she was in any danger, Oliver would do everything he could to save her. And if she died, he had a good reason for it. Like when Spike ultimately decided that Fred needed to die for the rest of humanity; maybe not forever, but for now.
"Clearly it's not."
"I get kidnapped approximately once every 6 months. Considering you're out there- every night- coming back with bruises, and cuts and dislocated shoulders and broken knees- I think I'm okay with those numbers."
"Felicity!" Again, waiting for Tommy to give him an answer. "You should never be okay with being kidnapped!"
"Well it's not a hobby," she countered, rolling her eyes. "I don't like it- I'm just saying, because of what we do, I understand it- and Oliver," she sighed, trying so hard to find the right words. "I believe in you. I believe in what you're doing- in your abilities and everything you stand for."
It was silent for about 37 seconds.
She even heard Roy stop to turn around and see if they were okay.
And then he kissed her.
She went with it for two seconds, relishing in the way his scruff felt against her skin, and his lips formed so perfectly against hers, before she pushed him away.
She wasn't going to cry- she wasn't a crier, most of the time. And if she was- it sure as hell wasn't in front of him. She would cry over a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream, while watching reruns of Angel or Grey's Anatomy.
"I don't-" She stopped, not really understanding what she was saying. Or trying to say.
"Forget it."
He turned around abruptly and stomped away like a child being told he was grounded.
"Oliver!" she exclaimed as she hopped off the table. Her vision blurred and her head felt dizzy. "Wh-" She grabbed on to the table, but not before feeling like she was falling.
She didn't hit the ground. He was catching her already.
"You kissed me."
"It didn't escape my attention."
She irked an eyebrow out of pure irritation. "And then you stomped away."
"You said you didn't feel the same way."
" I said I don't-" she clarified. He was still holding her waist, looking down at her, still freakishly close that she could smell the leather, and the sweat and the very manly cologne he still somehow used even though he was broke. "I wanted to say I don't understand."
He looked at her, searching for a hint of cleverness. Maybe she was doing this for making her wait so long. Maybe she was just being funny. But one look showed no- she was actually confused. She couldn't fathom why Oliver was kissing her. Why would she when he had never explicitly clarified that he did have feelings for her? He had just allowed her to believe that Slade had taken the right woman so many moons ago. That she was decoy. Bait. It was a ploy.
"I meant it."
There were so many things he could have meant by that- that Felicity didn't even pretend to understand.
"When I told you- that because of the life that I lead, it's better than I not be with someone I care about."
"And Sara?"
"Sara could handle herself."
He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, because he saw her eyes widen and realization dawn on her. That maybe he did care about her- but she was too weak for him to take that chance.
"So can Laurel," she croaked out.
This time, when she took a step back and felt her head spin, she reached out for Roy.
"Felicity."
"I get Oliver," she said, shaking her head. "I do." She would never consider leaving Starling City, but for a second, she wondered what kind of life she would be able to lead away from it. Helping Barry with all things IT, or Bruce, or Clark- anywhere, away from Oliver.
"You don't."
She sighed- looking up at the ceiling. She didn't know Tommy, but would he maybe help her?
"It's better that I not be with someone I care about," he said, taking a step forward and nodding at Roy to leave them alone again. "But I can't..." he closed his eyes. "I can't stop myself anymore."
He looked at her, much like when they were in the deserted Queen mansion and he told her he loved her.
"Oh."
If he was being completely serious right now, with no ploy to outsmart the villain, and he had the same look that he did when he was at the mansion, did that mean that he did love her?
"I just need you," he whispered. "Alive and well, and if that means far away from here- then so be it."
Later, she blamed it on the drugs- because normally, she wasn't so bold. But she walked up to him and kissed him. With everything piece of love she felt for him. She kissed him as if every brush of her lips would take away one more feeling of guilt. As if each sigh, would erase a horrible memory. She traced the plans of his skin as if it could wash away his past, and that they would be here- just them, right now. Together.
"Felicity..."
His resolve was cracking- she could hear it.
"I'm here Oliver," she whispered, her forehead resting on his chin. "Always."
And then it did crack.
He picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he set her on the medical table. She unzipped his hood, the way she had so many other times in her fantas-
Ahem.
Oliver stepped back, and Felicity turned around to see Roy glaring at both of them.
"Seriously?" He asked. "I was right there- making so much noise!"
"Sorry Roy," Felicity mumbled.
"Whatever," he grumbled. "I'm out."
Oliver and Felicity watched him leave and only when they door shut did she look at him again. Oliver leaned down for a kiss when Felicity backed up.
"I should head home too," she stated.
"Something to do?"
"Mm... I have to start packing," she went on, trying not to laugh. "I think I'd be safer in Gotham- don't you...?"
He didn't answer.
Not verbally anyways.