Summary:

My story takes place some months after Oliver's return to civilization. I alter things slightly with Thea running the nightclub, Tommy is dating Laurel, and Oliver has accepted a role at Queen Consolidated, promoting Felicity as his secretary; his mother still serves as CEO while Walter is missing. Felicity has yet to cast her affections upon Oliver. Oliver is still killing and is not yet fighting street crime.

I do not have an English Degree, so yeah you will find mistakes in my writing.

Chapter 1: Savannah

Arrow had to hurry. He needed Felicity to hack the memory stick he had just killed for. Flash drive safely in his pocket, he fired an arrow, casting a line into her upstairs balcony. Still dressed in green, it was better this way. The last thing Felicity needed was her neighbors gaining wind that she was aiding the Vigilante.

Felicity's neighborhood was asleep; not a sound, except for the lull of crickets summoning the rain that had yet to fall. The moon was half-full, but only a half of the half shed light on the land below, covered by a thin veil of dark clouds. Eyes closed, the sultry night wind whipping against his face, the hooded crusader allowed himself a moment of respite. For just a brief second, Shado, Sarah, Slate, all of the painful memories faded, and he was just a man relishing the warmth of tranquility.

BUMP - his feet smacked the balcony flooring and his sedately mental realm suddenly shattered; he was once again Oliver Queen playing the Arrow, a young man bent on vengeance, killing in hopes of mending his wounded soul.

As he stepped forward into the midnight darkness, his predatory instincts arousing, he knew he was not alone, and whoever that person was, was not Felicity. Blessed with rare agility and quicker than his attacker, he captured the lamp mid-swing, right before it crashed into the back of his head, and slung it into the wall, shattering it. With the grace of a panther, he seized his assailant, spinning him with his back to him and crippling him into a choke-hold. Soft and petite, long silky hair, a hint of vanilla - he was a she, and from the satin nightgown blushing his body, she was not a hit-woman.

Instinctively, he released his grip from around her neck and clamped his palm over her mouth, cutting off her cry for help before releasing it. Holding her to his body, he cocked an ear, straining to hear if their struggle had woken any of the neighbors. Still, only the melody of crickets and the soothing allure of wind flowing through leaves and branches.

Felicity resided alone. Her family lived on the other side of the country and the few friends the computer guru had was Oliver's friends too, but still this woman was in Felicity's house, half-dressed, obviously about to retire to bed, so she was indeed acquainted with Felicity.

The woman in his arms came alive, kicking, squirming to free herself from his grip, and in the process, blushing her firm rear against his manhood. Had he been a lesser man, without control over his emotions, he would have harden, but he had mastered domination over his body functions, feelings, and even pain, years ago. Still though, he a was man and the feel of her curvaceous body against his did not go unnoticed.

Not wanting to harm her, only to frighten her into submission, he slid the hand he had wrapped around her chest and up between her breasts, in which he could not help but note they were remarkable firm and of medium size, to clasp her throat. When she still did not submit, he applied pressure. Still writhing, she tried raking her fingernails into his arms, but his durable suit prevented her nails from inflicting wounds.

He smirked. She was a fighter. He liked that. She was short. The top of her head barely reached his chest, and she was not overly strong. She did not have a chance in the world against him. He knew it and she had to know it, but despite reality, she fought like a little she-cat. He could have contained her all night if he wanted to as the battle between them did not aggravate him, like most situations did, instead it darkly amused him. He knew he should scold himself for such primitive, if not chauvinist, desires, but he would not. That darkness was a part of him. It was what had made him who he was today.

Alas, the mischievous entertainment must end. He lowered his face to her neck, his lips only an inch from her silky flesh, and whispered, "stop fighting me and I will release you." He felt her stiffen and knew she was trying to read the tone of his voice. His warm breath had milked chill bumps to flourish upon her skin. A second later, she slammed the back of foot into his shin. Of course Arrow, the built of a Greek God, did not flinch, instead, he chuckled slyly causing her to flay at his body viciously.

Hearing footsteps approaching rapidly and lightweight from within, knowing they belonged to Felicity, he tightened his grip once more and hissed, "shh" with a tone oozing of seduction.

Savannah, mistaken his amoral game for intended rape, began to whimper, trying to warn Felicity.

A light popped on and the sliding door opened as Felicity emerged with her arms wide, suggesting they stop. "Don't hurt her! She is a friend! Actually, a cousin."

A man of little words, Arrow nodded, but kept his clasp over the young woman's mouth, giving Felicity time to square things away with her relative.

"Savannah, he is a friend. Don't scream! Screaming will wake my neighbors, and I signed a homeowner's agreement when moving in, and I am sure being woken in the middle of the night by my screaming cousin will violate those terms. And I dont want to have to move into an apartment. Apartments are small, the walls thin…."

"Felicity!"

Savannah caught the scolding tone in her captor's voice. He was familiar with her cousin's rambling. She froze, ceasing her attempts to free herself from his entrapment. When he removed his hand, she cautiously stepped away and turned to face him.

He watched the college-age, small-boned woman drink the sight of him, her eyes trailing up and down his masculine body, taunt in tight leather, to his veiled face. Peering into her sultry eyes, he had expected to read fear or maybe even repulse, but instead, he found intrigue; pleasing curiosity.

"I just dropped by to give Felicity something," he said, fighting the inner urge to admire her beauty. She looked just as scrumptious as her body had felt against his with long, unruly dark hair, cat-shaped eyes, the color of warm brandy, and skin overly tanned, resembling the tone of creamy coffee.

Savannah glared at the hooded man through defiant eyes, and when his gaze fell to her exposed cleavage through her now torn gown, she spat, "There is a thing called a door!"

Arrow crossed his arms, admiring the sway of her shapely hips as she marched into the Felicity's townhouse.

"Sorry, she just showed up at my doorsteps tonight without notice, or I would have warned you."

Hurt, hearing the echo of Felicity's words, Savannah shut the bedroom door that she was staying in and closed her eyes, the hooded man the least of her worries. She was an unwanted burden wherever she went.

"I did not know you had family other than your mother and estranged father."

"I do. I just don't talk about them because I am rarely in contact."

"I need to know what's on this. It's encrypted," Arrow announced, pulling the memory stick from his pocket.

Felicity beamed a self-assured smile before collecting the USB from his hand. "No problem. Give me five minutes."

Arrow returned the smile. He had confidence in his friend. She was one of the few people whose loyalty he trusted. "No rush. I will drop by tomorrow and pick it up. I have plans with Tommy tonight."