Ardor

By Cortexikid

Chapter 1: It Looks Better On Her

A/N: Prompts I receive from Tumblr. This one is from everyatomofmartydeeks. Enjoy! (I'm using the American spelling of 'Ardour' despite being European. What have you guys got against the letter U anyway? xD)

"Absolutely not."

"Oliv-"

"No, Felicity. Digg can handl-"

"Digg's currently busy with you know, the tiny human being that he and Lyla brought into the world. I don't think he's really in the mood for skulking in the shadows, and guest starring in an episode of The Wire…" Felicity rolled her eyes, her arms firmly folded across her chest as Oliver stared up at her from his spot on the cot, ice-pack pressed against his injured knee.

"Oh don't look at me like that. You know what The Wire is," her eyes narrowed in suspicion as Roy snorted loudly.

"You think they had cable on Torture Island?" he muttered, making sure not to make eye-contact with the already-irate vigilante.

"You think just because I blew out my knee, I won't still kick your ass?" the man in question growled, jaw clenched.

"Now, now, boys, play nice," Felicity smirked as she held up the tiny microphone to Roy.

"Hook me up, Harper."

The younger man gaped at her, then at Oliver, and back again.

"You—you're actually doing this? Didn't—didn't the guy say he wanted to speak to The Arrow? As in the 6 foot, 180 pound, expert archer and not…you know—"

"The 5'4", none of your business, expert in all things tech? Pssh. Semantics…" the blond dismissed with a wave of her hand as she turned her back to them, fiddling with the buttons on her blouse.

Oliver's throat tightened, his pulse picking up speed.

"What—what are…" the words got stuck in his throat as she shirked off the garment, exposing the pale skin of her back, and the thin material of her dark purple tank-top.

Before either man could even blink, she reached for his green-leather hood, (from where he angrily threw it, limping into their new 'Arrow cave' following a particularly brutal altercation with bad-guy-of-the-week) and slipped it over her shoulders.

It was the sound of the zipper being pulled up that spat Oliver from his trance, an icy feeling rising in his chest as the reality of what she was going to do, set in.

"Felicity, you're not doing this. It's too danger—"

It was that moment that she chose to turn around, now clad in his patented leather, rendering him speechless. His eyes drank her in. But she wasn't looking at either of them, instead, her gaze roamed over her arms and chest.

"Geez, Oliver. This thing is hot," she gaped, running her hands over the leather, then winced as her brain caught up to her mouth, "hot as in warm, not as in…well, you know some people are into that kinda thing, whatever floats your boat, but I just meant that it's kinda warm. That's the reason I never got a leather couch. If I'm even just a little sweaty I'll stick to leather like glue, so you'll probably have to help me out of this when I get ba-"

"Felicity," he interrupted, his eyes snapping shut with a wince, as his mind was now assaulted with images of her wearing his hood for a very different reason, and he graciously helping her out of it for a very different reason…

"Right, sorry," she bit her lip, a flush rising in her cheeks as she cleared her throat.

"Okay…now that that's over," Roy piped up, diffusing the sudden tension in the room, "could I ask how exactly you're gonna get around the fact that you're clearly not The Arrow? I mean, no offense blondie, but I think they'll notice that the vigilante suddenly shrunk and grew long hair…and not to mention, you know…boobs."

Felicity shook her head at him, as if mentally wondering how she managed to align herself with such a pair, before crossing over and laying her hand on Roy's shoulder.

Oliver watched from his perch on the cot, noticing that, ignoring the most glaring differences, the scene was very much like many he and Felicity had shared over the years, their roles now reversed, as she lay her assuring hand on her friend's shoulder, mirroring Oliver's well-worn gesture.

An irrational sense of jealousy of Roy being the one she assured spiked in his chest, he cursing his bad knee even more.

"Oh young padawan, much to teach you, I have," she grinned at Roy with her best Yoda-voice, before swiftly pulling the hood up over her head, turning in Oliver's direction.

He stopped breathing. When she first put it on, his breath had become laboured, but now, it had actually stopped. The sight of her, hooded up, standing tall even in her small frame, looking frankly more formidable than most would give her credit for, did something to him. Fleetingly, he wondered if he was developing some kind of complex, but before he could properly freak out about where his thoughts were going, he realised Felicity was saying something to him.

"Uh…what?"

Her stance broadened, her boot-clad feet firmly planted.

"I asked, from a distance, a height, in the dark, and masking my voice using your device, can I pass as The Arrow to a man who is new to town and has only heard about you?"

A short silence met her words, Oliver struggling for something, anything to say, to argue and confirm that yes, despite all her points, this was surely to end badly.

Only to come to the conclusion that she had a point. He was out. So was Diggle. Roy had to be hidden in the shadows to come to her aid if needed, and at the end of the day, it was just a conversation with an investigative journalist that was getting far too interested in The Arrow and his activities.

What could go wrong?

The twist of his gut reminded him from past experience, a lot. A lot could go wrong.

But, they had no other option…

"I suppose…with those parameters, you could…pass. Just make sure of a good and quick exit strategy—"

"We got it," Roy assured him, remembering the extensive plan that he and Felicity concocted not an hour ago – even if it was when he still thought she was joking.

Felicity strode across the room, kneeling down on one knee and meeting Oliver's gaze, her hand reaching out and gently falling on his shoulder, her fingers brushing against the skin that was exposed under his T-shirt.

"We'll be careful, I promise. And will be back before you know it," she smiled softly, before her eyes flickered to his left.

With her other hand, she reached down and picked up his mask, holding it out in front of him.

"Care to do the honours?"

Oliver stared down at it for a moment, before meeting her eyes again. Slowly, he reached up and pushed the hood back off her head. His ignored the spread of warmth in his chest as his fingers brushed against hers when he took the mask, and focussed on slipping it over her eyes, fixing the clasp under her hair that was pulled back into a bun, and adjusting it slightly on the bridge of her nose, fighting the urge to caress her now masked-face.

"So…how do I look?" she asked, her voice small, her breath catching a little as her eyes, now somehow more striking than ever, flickered over his face.

"Like a hero," he replied without having to think about it, to whit she chuckled loudly, as he pulled the hood back up over her head.

"And what exactly," Oliver began, as he watched her stand and take up his bow and quiver (purely for show, of course) in hand, "am I supposed to do while you're out being me?"

A dazzling smile broke out on her face, it still so recognisable to him even masked and under a hood, that he often wondered how some people that knew him still hadn't identified him yet. Yet admittedly, that could have more to do with the fact that her face was something that was firmly etched into his thoughts and dreams, rather than being a reflection of his skills at being incognito…

"Oh," she broke through his musings, plucking something from her desk and stepping back over to him, holding it up for him to take.

Oliver's brow furrowed in confusion. It was a comm.

"You Mr. Queen," Felicity continued, her smile widening even more as she handed him what he knew to be her spare tablet, "are going to be my Girl Wednesday…"

A/N: Feel free to send me any prompts via review or to my Tumblr. Username is octoberobserver :)