A very short one shot scene that has plagued my head for a short while, even while I've struggled with a bit of writers block. Set after the Ill fated trip to Russia earlier this season. Any and all constructive comments are encouraged. Hope you enjoy this fic.

Disclaimer - The people that own Arrow are the people that own Arrow. I am not one of those people.

Drumming his fingers on the conference table, Oliver was oblivious to the looks the rest of the occupants of the room were sending his way occasionally.

'Oliver,' Felicity hissed, glaring at his hand when he looked up from his tablet.

'Sorry,' Oliver winced, 'Force of habit.'

'Are you finished?' Isobel Roschev glared daggers at the duo.

'Put away the attack dogs Isobel,' Oliver sighed in annoyance, 'They're never wanted on a bad day, let alone a good one like today.'

'If you were more interested in the important meeting and not playing footsie with your assistant,' Isobel glowered, 'Then my 'attack dogs' as you call it wouldn't be needed.'

Oliver growled softly, 'If you are going to be in that mood again, then I suggest you get out.'

'Mood?' Isobel's glare turned artic, 'This 'mood' is me trying to keep this company afloat until I can acquire the last of the shares I need to kick your playboy ass to the kerb. Unlike you, I have an actual interest in keeping this company going.'

'Oliver...' Felicity softly spoke, the vein on his forehead pulsing dangerously.

'Listen to your whore Oliver,' Isobel and the rest of the table flinched at the noise that emanated from Oliver's throat. Opening his mouth his fury was beaten back by the soft, but firm tone in Felicity's voice.

'Remind me again just who in this room have spread their legs for Oliver?' Felicity's stare cut the other woman's protest down immediately, 'Oh yes, you.' Standing, Felicity gathered her things and turned to the door, 'You have my notes Mr Queen?'

'I do, but...' Oliver frowned at the dull voice from the usually vibrant woman, 'Felicity.'

'No,' Felicity held up her palm when Oliver made to stand, 'I have the phone appointment we spoke about earlier set to start in a minute, so I need to leave anyway.'

'Dig,' Oliver turned to the silent man. Diggle nodded and followed Felicity out the room.

'Finally,' Isobel sighed, 'Now we can have a proper meeting.'

'Oh hell no!' Oliver's voice dropped to a dangerous level. Throwing the tablet on the table, he made a mental note to make sure it wasn't damaged, 'You really think we're just going to ignore what you did?'

'Enough with the melodrama Oliver,' Isobel sneered, 'Can we just get on with this important presentation?'

'Sorry Duncan,' Oliver turned to the young man standing at the end of the table, 'I know you've spent far too long on this project for this to happen, but we need to take a short break while I deal with Ms Roschev.'

'No worries Mr Queen.'

'Oliver,' Isobel glowered when Oliver turned his furious gaze on her.

'Don't,' Oliver raised a finger, 'I am sick and goddamn tired of listening to you belittle my friend. I asked her to become my assistant for one main reason. I trust her.'

'After what happened on the island,' Oliver grimaced, 'I find it VERY difficult to trust people anymore. That nearly got me killed more times than I can remember over there, but Felicity Smoak I trust implicitly. She doesn't treat my friends like scum under their shoes and she doesn't see me as the asshole I was.'

Clambering to his feet, Oliver apologised to the room, 'We'll finish up tomorrow. Sorry again Duncan.'

'I understand perfectly Mr Queen,' the man glanced at one of his assistants.

'This is why I'm going to take control of this company sooner than later,' Isobel snarked, 'And now I know all I'll have to do is goad you with your little lay, then snatch the rug from under you.'

'For the last goddamn time Roschev!' Oliver's expression turned apocalyptic, 'I am not sleeping with my assistant! As Felicity so accurately put it, You are the only one in this room that I've screwed.'

Oliver turned to walk out the door, but paused, 'And you were about as frigid in bed as you are in this building. No wonder you are so frustrated all the time.' Ignoring the muffled sniggering, Oliver stalked out the conference room and into his office. Spotting a grumpy Felicity returning to her desk, Oliver quickly made his way out of his office.

'I'm fine Oliver,' Felicity's grumpy tone was at odds with her words, 'I'm just sick and tired of having to deal with that woman day in, day out.'

'So am I,' Oliver agreed, 'We've had the elephant in the room since she arrived at QC of her name being in my father's list and I want to know why.'

'About goddamn time,' Diggle grumbled quietly as Oliver watched Felicity's eyes light up.

Two weeks later Oliver fired off a wired arrow into a building. Hooking his bow onto the wire, Oliver muttered, 'Ready,' into his comms and launched himself down towards tonights target.

Smashing into the room through the large window, Oliver rolled across the floor and nooked an arrow at his target.

'Isobel Roschev,' His modulated voice growled dangerously, 'You have failed this city!'