AN: Like it says in the description, this is a mid-season fic that I started forever ago, during season 2, I think; before that one episode with the clock king. It was a blast to write it. (Thanks for pre-reading it for me, K! Love ya, girlie!)

Enjoy!

"Ohmigosh, you can not-augh, that's my favorite blouse! Or was my favorite blouse, that being in past tense you know because it is now...on the...in several...".

"Hold still. Felicity..." As usual, Oliver Queen was completely serious, especially in the most alarming of situations.

"I can't believe that this happening," Felicity Smoak commented lightly. Usually the tech specialist would have been in her element, in the middle of her boss's club's basement, surrounded by the many computers that she had lovingly set up and cared for...but of course, working for Oliver Queen meant that there really was no such thing as "usually".

She blinked several times, trying not to space out...or pass out. "Of all the ways that I've imagined you seeing me without-I mean, without my glasses on," because, seeing as how they were on, that totally made sense, "because anything other than that would be really disturbing and more than a little awkward, what with you being my boss, both here and now in the compan-"

"Don't move Felicity!" her boss commanded. His fingers dug deeper and she tried not to squirm.

"Ohmigosh, golly gee, big whopper burger, wow, that hurts. Really, really bad." She tried breathing out of her mouth and nose instead of vomiting. "Um, ow, why is it that every time you guys come in scraped up or bleeding to death you act like it's no big deal? 'Cause this feels a little bit more like a very big, very major deal."

He might have smiled if he hadn't been in serious-mode. "Diggs and I are used to getting shot. Hold still. I can't find-"

"Ow!"

"...Got it." He held up the tiny sliver that he had been searching for.

Felicity was breathing hard as Oliver methodically started to stitch up the hole in her side. "Okay, that hurt. Really, really bad. ...And...I'm bleeding on the floor." She pointed at the small red puddle on the floor shakily. "For once, since I'm the one who isn't saving you from the brink of death, I am not cleaning that up. Ohgosh. Ohgosh. I can't believe they shot me."

He paused in his work and caught her face with his still-bloody hands, locking eyes with her. "Felicity. Hey, hey...look at me." She hoped he hadn't felt the shiver that had gone through her, since it absolutely nothing to do with her wound. "You are going to be fine," he continued. "I promise. It just went right through, didn't hit anything vital. Didn't even bounce off any ribs."

"Yeah, I know, because when bullets enter into a body sometimes they can either break or ricochet of off-"

"Felicity!" he interrupted. "You're going to be fine," he continued, lowering his voice in the special way that he only used when she was at her most vulnerable points. She loved it, and how it made her feel special in turn.

(And would have rather shot herself in the head than let him know any part of those feelings.)

"Practically a flesh wound," he was saying. "Stop worrying. There was just that sliver to get out, and now we can patch you up. Okay?"

"Okay. I'm good, I'm good...with that."

He nodded, then continued stitching her up. "Ow, ow, ow," she yelped after a few moments, "I thought that shot-the needle one, not the actual, you know, gunshot-was supposed to dull the-"

"It will. It'll just take a minute or two."

"Okay. Ow. Sorry, Oliver. And..." she added, catching his eye, "thank you."

He gave her a smile that was tired and only slightly less grim, but still amazing. "What are friends for, Felicity?"

She shrugged. "Well, usually not digging bullets out of each other, unless of course you happen to be a member of Team Arrow." Then she caught herself. "Oh, Oliver, I didn't, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that..."

"It's okay, Felicity. It's true." But the grim, 'world-is-falling-to-pieces-because-of-me' look had taken over once again, and his hands felt almost robotic as they finished tying off the last stitch and started wrapping her stomach in gauze.

"No, it's not. Not like..."

The door to the basement clicked open, interrupting them. "Oliver," Roy called as he jogged down the steps, "I thought you were going to talk to Thea about...Felicity, what happened?" he exclaimed as he caught sight of the blonde IT tech. "Is that a bullet wound? Are you okay?"

She did look terrible. They both did. Felicity was half sitting, half lying on the steel table that they usually kept close for treating The Vigilante's numerous injuries. Her hair, usually pulled back in a tight ponytail, now hung limply over her shoulders. Oliver was both dressed in the suit that his mild-mannered persona demanded and bent over her, focused tensely on her left side. The blood covering his hands, Felicity's bare skin, the table, and dripping down onto the floor gave everything a garish look, like a scene that belonged in a horror film.

Oliver quickly took off the jacket to his suit and slipped it around her shoulders.

"I'm fine," Felicity said automatically, waving the hand on her 'un-shot' side in reassurance. "Well, ish," she amended hastily. "It's-"

"Debatable," Oliver interrupted, finishing his ministrations, stepping in front of his half-naked assistant as she finished putting on his suit jacket and turning his attention to Roy. "What did you find?"

"I shook down a few thugs a few blocks away from where the police found the first body and one of the drug dealers gave me a name. But you're not going to like it."

The older man almost put his hands on his hips, but grimaced at the blood on them instead. "Just tell me."

"Oliver Queen."

"What?" the IT tech and the billionaire said in unison.

Roy shrugged. "That's all he could tell me. I shook him up hard but all he said is that a tall guy in a suit and a ski mask paid him 50 bucks the night before to be away from his usual street corner for half an hour on the night of the murder, right around the time that the police think it happened."

"What made him think it was Oliver?" Felicity asked. She was trying in vain to pull her hair up with one hand and soon gave up.

"Phone call. Somebody called the suit while he was talking to the scumbag, and all the dealer caught was the guy on the phone calling fancy pants 'Oliver'. Dealer made the connection to Oliver Queen, because you gotta admit it's not a very popular-"

"I get it," Oliver interrupted grumpily.

Roy shifted uneasily. "You weren't...I mean, it wasn't you, right? Because I know that even if-"

"It wasn't me," Oliver growled.

"He was with me that night," Felicity announced without a thought. They both shot incredulous glances at her. "No, jeez, I don't mean..."

"We get it, Felicity."

"Okaaay. Shutting up now. So," she continued, swinging her feet to the ground and standing shakily, (where had that other heel gone?) "you said that the guy in the suit got a phone call while he was talking to your drug...dealer...guy...person. Do you know what time it was, or the area?"

Oliver had frozen. "Sit. Down."

She looked up at him with surprise and almost flinched. There was so much raw pain and anger lingering in his eyes...

"Yeah, Felicity," Roy seconded, "you're still bleeding, almost."

She frowned and waved both of their concerns off. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Sunshine," she said to her boss, taking advantage of her usual sarcastic twang. "And I'm fine, Roy."

And then she stood completely.

And stumbled.

A strong grip caught her arm before she could fall, splat, onto the floor. "Okay, dizzy, ish," she amended. "But still, I'm fine..."

"It's the blood loss," Oliver said quietly, the hand on her arm almost as tight as his voice. "You should not be working."

"I'm..." 'okay,' she started to protest with, but the sentiment turned into "ooh, wow, okay," as the floor decided it didn't like staying steady under her feet.

"Not. Working. Now." Oliver hissed the words out, every syllable quiet and harsh.

Soo...maybe she wouldn't be getting much work done today.

"What happened?" Roy demanded, coming to her other side to help lift her back onto the table. "Did she get shot?"

Felicity sighed, eyes shut tightly as she settled back onto the stainless steel. "I went to the house of victim number two, Lisa Michaels, to see if her parents knew of any connection between Lisa and Brent Farland."

Roy's eyebrows jumped. "The pimp?"

Felicity clapped her hands together lightly. "Bing! Yes, the one and only! Tell him what he's won, Ollie!"

He ignored her. "It turns out that victims number 1 and 4 were both Farland's girls, not that he managed to relay that to the police."

"Nice to see that everyone both acknowledges and appreciates my humor," she muttered. She had slipped and called him 'Ollie'. Were her cheeks hot?

Oliver didn't even blink, just bent and lifted up the side of the jacket to make sure that the stitches were holding.

"So you went to Lisa Michaels house to ask her parents if there was any chance that she could have been a hooker, and they shot you?" Roy asked incredulously.

"No!" the IT tech gasped. "And I was very, well, a lot more considerate than you make me sound."

They both raised their eyebrows at her. Felicity was not without tact, but she had a bad habit of spitting out whatever she thought.

"What story did you tell them?" the teenager asked curiously.

"I-"

Oliver's head came back around from where he had been inspecting her bandages. "Not important."

"Oliver-" she tried protesting.

"Not important. Go on."

She gave in and continued. "They didn't know anything, but I was able to get a virtual copy of Lisa's old laptop. Unfortunately...it got kind of...smashed into a gajillion minute pieces when Oliver tackled me." Roy gave Oliver a look, and the older man took over the story while he finished checking the rest of his assistant over.

"I met her as she was leaving and a sedan—black, tinted windows, no license plates, ding on the front right side—turned onto the street and the driver started taking shots at us. They must have been watching the house and saw her with the laptop."

Felicity hissed a little as he prodded a bruise on her arm. "I still say that's no reason to shoot someone. What if I had just been a neighbor?"

Oliver's frown had turned dark. "They wouldn't have shot you if you hadn't been meeting me. I'm too recognizable as Oliver Queen, and not the type of person that a friend of the Michaels' would meet casually. I tipped them...what are you doing?"

She had quickly risen, slipping off her remaining shoe and heading for her computers as soon as Oliver's back had been turned, searching for more bandages. "Checking the city database for stolen cars matching the sedan's description. It could take a while, but I can start a search for it now." A muscle in his jaw worked, she could see, out of the corner of her eye, but her chair felt so good as she settled into it that she almost couldn't care.

"You are going home, not working."

She huffed. "I'll be FINE." Pausing in her work, she turned and locked eyes...on his beard. She couldn't go against him while looking at those eyes. "This guy has been murdering women in what is practically our back yard, and I am not letting him get to anyone else," she said firmly. "You need my expertise to get this guy, and a little bit of blood loss is not going to kill me." They both winced at the word kill. "Not a good choice of words. Sorry. But I am serious about this."

Roy had started to edge away uncomfortably, and Felicity lowered her voice. "You and Diggs get hurt because you're keeping other people from getting hurt. People like me. And sometimes when you're not fast enough-"

"People die." His hands tightened into fists as he crossed his arms.

"...it gets bad," she finished instead. "But this is not one of those times. This is one of the rare times where if I don't step up people will die."

Oliver was about to open his mouth but Roy beat him to it.

"Um..."

"Roy," Oliver remembered, turning back to the teen and forcibly lightening his tone. "Did you need something else?"

Roy's face was as hesitant as the young man's face could be. There had been a time when he had been almost afraid of Oliver, Felicity remembered. I guess he still has a lot of that big older brother vibe, she thought.

"I thought you said you were going to talk to Thea for me," Roy said. "With all the time I've been spending with you guys she know that something's up and she's been riding me pretty hard about it."

Oliver looked like he wanted to rub a hand over his face and mouth but was still conscious of all the blood covering them. "Yeah, all right Roy, just, after..."

Roy held up his hands. "Yeah, I get it. Help her first. It can wait." His cell phone started ringing. "Oh crud, that's her." He dug it out of his pocket and flicked at the screen. "Hey Babe, what's up?"

Thea's irate voice could barely be heard over the line. "Babe? Don't 'Babe' me!"

"Thanks Roy!" Felicity called in a stage whisper as he turned away and started quickly up the stairs.

"Babe?" Oliver mouthed, a look of disgust adding to the frown lines on his forehead.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, forget about it. They're happy. Thea is happy, and you should be happy for them too. Roy is a nice guy." She turned her attention back to her computers.

Oliver grunted non-committedly.

"Felicity..." he said after a few moments, "it's not that I don't think you can handle yourself, it's just that I don't know how much more I can handle having people that are important to me get hurt right in front of me." He had finally found a rag and was now wiping off the partially dried blood. Her partially dried blood.

With each word he came closer, until he could put a hand on her shoulder. "And it's not that rare, Felicity," he murmured softly, "that we need you. We'd be in trouble without you almost every day. I-you're my partner."

She found that she couldn't stop looking up into his eyes. They were big and beautiful and...

"Thank you, Oliver," she said, interrupting her train of thought. "Now please let me do my job?"

He searched her face, then finally nodded. "Okay." He straightened, turning so that his hand fell away from her shoulder. "Roy! Did your guy say where or when he met the man in the suit?"

Roy had found a quiet place to argue with his girlfriend over the phone, but he had heard Oliver's question. "Yeah," he called, holding his cell away from his ear, "that same corner where they found the first victim, around 10pm. What?" he said into the phone. "No, that was just...no, I'm just talking to you. Voice? What voice? I think you're hearing things, Thea. No, I'm in the club." 'See ya!' he mouthed at Felicity, bounding up the steps and out of the lair. "Of course I'm working. Yeah, I'm uh, taking bottles..."

"Bye Roy!" Felicity said as he disappeared upstairs. Then she turned back. Her computers were calling her. "Okaaaayy...by triangulating where the police said the first victim was..."

Oliver had come back to stand next to her and was touching her arm.

"...um, taking into account the..."

And her neck. He was touching her neck. Was there something wrong with the thermostat?

"...and against records of incoming calls-" His fingers found a sensitive spot on her temple and she couldn't take it anymore. "Augh! What are you doing? I can't hack while you're-"

"You have a pretty big bump here on the side of your head," Oliver said calmly, examining the spot.

She couldn't decide whether she should flinch, push him away, or melt. "Well the concrete is pretty hard, especially when your boss is slamming you down." She cringed. "Which didn't sound at all inappropriate in my head but when I say it out loud...I'm sorry."

He shook his head distractedly. "It's okay Felicity. Are these scratches on your arm from when you fell?"

"Yeah, ouch, and my hip. And I just realized, have you seen my other shoe? I haven't. I suppose it must have flown off to New Mexico like all the other lost shoes-"

"Felicity!" he interrupted. "Focus. No, at the screen, not on me. Okay," he continued, reaching for the ointment and lightly grasping her forearm, "this one's going to hurt. Once this case is over we are doubling your training sessions with Diggle. You will not be as unaware as you were today, is that understood?"

"...Yes..." She bit her lip and turned to face him. "But I still..." she started hesitantly, "I still don't understand why Diggle is training me, why you won't train me yourself."

His jaw tightened and he was paying very close attention to her arm. "I am not a gym instructor."

"I'm not asking you to be! And neither is Diggs."

"Felicity..."

"You're training Roy now," she pointed out.

He finished with her arm and started looking for more things to bandage. "That's different. Roy..."

"Has super strength? Isn't a girl?"

Oliver quit looking for things that could distract him and threw his hands up in frustration. "Yes!"

"Yes?"

"No! That's not what-"

"Well which is it Oliver? Or is it something else entirely?"

Training a girl. Training with a girl. The first and last time that that had happened he had been in another world, falling for a raven-haired Asian woman that could now be nothing except a memory. Her eyes flashed in his mind; her smile haunted him. She had been everything that he had never wanted...and the best and worst thing that had ever happened to him. After her, after Shadow...

"Oliver! Oliver!" Felicity's voice suddenly shocked him back to the real world. "Where do you go when you space out like that? The island? Every other terrible memory that's happened afterwards? I mean, I am spacey, I readily admit, but when you space out you're kind of scary."

"I'm fine."

Her eyes squeezed half shut in concern. "I know, I just-"

"Leave it, Felicity."

"I know you're not, just like you that you're not. And I understand why you won't talk about it, why you don't want to talk about the island, but Diggle, me, and even Roy aren't going anywhere. We're here for one person, and that's you. You might have picked us for your team, but you couldn't have dragged us along if we hadn't wanted to follow you. I know that even though you act all big and macho and mysterious about the island, not just because it adds to that amazing, rakishly handsome, playboy vigilante millionaire thing you've got going on, but also because you're just dreading the day that you spill too much about what happened there, thinking that it will push us away. But you know what? I can't wait for that day. Because it will not only mean that you trust us to see the real you, but that you trust yourself."

Oliver closed his mouth on the excuse that he was about to give, and instead gifted her with a small, very tired smile. "Thank you, Felicity."

She smiled back at him. "It's what I'm here for. That, and hacking." Her computer beeped. "Which, speaking of, I just found the cell phone of our mysterious Oliver Doppelganger. It's registered to a company called Janus Incorporated as a company phone. And...Janus Inc. doesn't actually exist, at least not since it was taken over by..."

"Queen Industries."

"You've got it. Over 15 years ago. The former CEO, Benjamin Knight, is in his sixties so he's probably not our guy, but he does have a son, Richard Knight, who matches the description Roy's guy gave us. And...uh-oh, it looks like Richie's gotten himself into a little bit of trouble in the past, including roughing up 'local businessman'-the report's wording, not mine-Brent Farland."

"Give me his address."

"Already on it."

"Will you be okay here?"

"I'm fine, go. You owe me a new shirt!"

"Will do!"

Felicity turned back to her computers. "Of all the ways he had to see me without a shirt on. Jeez!"

Oliver grinned as he grabbed his bow and left the basement.

:) Hope you liked it! Let me know in the reviews!