This is just something that I needed to write after finally catching up on Arrow. Oh my Olicity feels…

For the purposes of this story, let's just say that's been more than year since Slade's attack, and Oliver has since regained his fortunes and his club… Anyways, enjoy!

Disclaimer: Uh, no, Arrow is not mine.

Your Touch, Your Words

She felt him approach her from behind long before she heard him, but his silent steps didn't make her jump out of her skin as they would have a six months ago, Felicity having gotten used to Oliver's rather wordless way of greeting her. Reaching her, he wound an arm over the front of torso, gently resting it against her collarbone, fingers on her shoulder, as he pulled her back into him. He dropped a kiss to her exposed throat, nuzzling it a bit before pressing his lips against her temple. Felicity turned just enough to smile at him, covering the fingers on her shoulder with her own.

"Hey you." Oliver finally said, having finished with his little ritual as he wrapped his other arm around her waist, placing his free hand on her stomach, thumb moving up and down slowly, tantalizingly.

"Hey yourself. You got him?" She asked quietly, referring to another dangerous criminal they'd been after for the past week. Just your usual brand of murderous psychopath, Felicity found herself thinking. Oliver nodded at her, a light smirk appearing on his face.

"Let's just say Iron Heights is about to get another tenant."

"Well, we wouldn't want to let them have any vacancies, especially not in this market." She replied drily as she reached up to trace the still-bleeding cut on his jaw. She frowned, hating how he had to put himself at such risk to do what he was best at. Oh, she would never dream of stopping him from donning his green hood, the Arrow was just another part of her Oliver, and she couldn't take that way from him, couldn't make him choose; Felicity simply loved him too much to even consider it. Still, she wished she didn't have to see the bruises it all left behind, the blood and fresh scars.

As if sensing what she was thinking, Oliver spun her around quickly so that she was completely facing him. He pulled her flush to him, giving her a quick kiss, an unspoken reassurance that he was fine and he wasn't going anywhere. It was enough to let her thoughts rush away from the constant worry that usually plagued them.

"It should be illegal for you to look this good while covered in blood and sweat." She found herself muttering, her brain-to-mouth filter once again failing her (she didn't have one really). "Not that I like seeing you with this much blood outside of you, because, you know, that's really not where it belongs. Blood should stay in the body not decorating your snazzy green leather and making you look like a Christmas tree, which is, oh my god, the single most horrible thing to have ever come out of my mouth." And she was off. "I just- what I meant was that you're you and you always look good enough to eat with all your muscles and your eyes and just your face in general and I really should try to shut up, like right now, yep that would be good. It really shouldn't be this easy for me to embarrass myself in front of my boyfriend, totally unfair. Ok, now I'm really going to be quiet, right this instant. 3, 2, 1…" Finally, finally she managed to get her mouth shut and let her eyes focus on Oliver again.

Her nonsensical rambles caused him to get that gleam in his eyes that was solely reserved for her; that look of complete adoration that caused her to tingle down to her toes. He chuckled and Felicity ducked her head, trying to get the blush to back down from her cheeks. Unfortunately, Oliver had other ideas and tugged her to look back at him. "You are truly remarkable, Felicity Smoak." He told her quietly, sincerely, hand shifting to lie against her cheek.

She smiled faintly in return, thinking back to one of the early meetings they had, back in her small cramped office in the basement of the QC headquarters. "Well, thank you for remarking on it." She echoed the words she'd spoken so long ago.

"Always."

Then, as it often happened, the emotions on Oliver's face were suddenly completely drained away as he glanced at the screen behind her, and he froze in her arms, his expression darkening and becoming a mask. She recognized this look, this was all Arrow. Felicity, momentarily confused about his sudden shift, turn to see what he was looking at and immediately understood his reaction.

The security footage showed there was someone upstairs in the club wearing a tell-tale burglar's mask. Clichéd much? Oddly enough, he really did seem to be the cliché, and really was just a thief, not one of the out-for-blood, let-me-take-over-this-city types they usually dealt with. And Verdant is in the Glades, this was bound to happen sooner or later, even if it's owned by Oliver Queen.

Still, the man himself didn't seem reassured by any of this, still tense. He suddenly moved away from, grabbing his bow and pulling up his hood, putting his eye-mask firmly in place.

"Stay here." He commanded lowly, all previous warmth from his voice gone.

"Oliver, wait, maybe you shouldn't do this here." Felicity let out before she could stop herself.

"Why?" He turned on his heel, eyes flashing through his mask, though the anger wasn't directed at her, not really. "And where else would I do it?"

"Just think about it for a second; this is Oliver Queen's, your, club, and you've been suspected by the police before… the SCPD may not be the most useful but they aren't that stupid. Not to mention this is where yoursuper-secret underground layer is located and an Arrow appearance will only lead to more people roaming about, which, by the way, is a distinctly not good thing... And you are still injured." Felicity was swift to add when she saw him start to protest. "Don't think I didn't notice, you're holding your shoulder tenser than you normally would and you were slower with picking up your bow then usual."

"What should I do then, just leave him?" Oliver said dangerously, finally managing to get a word in. In barely a second he was right before her, looming over her.

"No, of course not. I'm saying, maybe, just this once it might be a better idea to call it in. You know the police, they won't look too deep at an average Glades break-in; this isn't something that is normally on the Arrow radar after all. And we really don't need any more suspicion falling on you, or people will stop believing its just coincidence." Felicity breathed out quickly, just barely able to keep her voice strong as she faced off with him, trying not to let her desperation show. I really can't back down now.

He stilled, seeming to really consider it. Oliver would do nearly anything for Felicity, which they both knew, but they also both knew that what she was asking him to do now went against his very nature. His protective instincts were yelling at him to go up there and show no mercy, to get the man away from his hideout, but most importantly away from Felicity, his Felicity.

Meanwhile the blonde kept her eyes close on his face, and was able to read where his mind was going nearly instantly. She automatically reached out and grabbed his hand in hers. "I'll be fine, trust me. There's no way anyone's getting down here. Besides, you're right here with me…" Felicity swallowed thickly, "… just let this one go."

She waited with bated breath to see how he would respond. Though she tended to think that she knew Oliver better than, well, anyone, he was still frustratingly unpredictable times. But that's just a part of what made Oliver, Oliver.

Finally, finally he nodded and his female companion let out a small sigh of relief.

And, as always, as soon as the plan was set, they began moving in tandem, each doing their roles without even having to confirm it with the other. Barely a few minutes later the police had been called and dispatched, the foundry locked up, and Oliver, in something other than green leather, and Felicity left Verdant through the back.

But as they walked side-by-side, she noticed that Oliver seemed deep in thought, and that their hands had never brushed together, not once.

Over the next few days, Felicity had noticed that Oliver had become rather subdued; it was nothing overly major or anything, it was just in the little things. Like, for example, in his greetings to her. Normally, he would always greet her with a touch first and then with words, and yet, in the past couple of days he'd barely touched her. And, if she were being honest, it did rather hurt.

One of the things she enjoyed most when they finally started an actual relationship was that Oliver took it as an invitation to constantly touch her, no matter where they were. It wasn't about lust or desire or the like (ok, maybe sometimes it was), but it was mostly about comfort and tenderness and showing the affection that he found so hard to admit to with words. It was about reassurance and safety… about knowing that he had someone there always.

Sometimes his touches would be small, the brush of his hand on her shoulder, the light trace of his fingers on her arm and hand or hovering over the small of her back. Sometimes he would grow bolder, trailing his thumb down her cheek or wrapping an arm around her waist. And other times, well other times he held her so close that it was hard for Felicity to know where he ended and she began. It was like he wanted to melt into her, strong arms keeping her safe within him, kisses being pressed to her neck and cheeks and nose and forehead and anywhere he could reach, until he finally settled himself upon her lips. He never went further than that though when he was in this particular mood, needing to simply hold her, needing to feel her heartbeat next to his, to know she was alive. Those times were rare, and only ever happened in private and Oliver never told her explicitly why they happened… but Felicity knew anyways. When Oliver touched her like that, it was because the nightmares he had lived, and continued to live, had become too much for him. It was because they no longer just haunted him in his sleeping hours but began to encroach on him in the daylight too. It was because his scars felt like they had reopened and he needed something, someone, to anchor him to the present.

It was because he needed her, but more importantly, wanted her right there with him, even when he was at his worst.

So he touched her, a lot and all the time, his calloused hands, hands that she'd witnessed brutally snap a man's neck, always, always gentle against her skin. And Felicity responded in kind. She threaded her fingers through his, feeling the toughness of his skin, so different from her own softer hands… she leaned into his embrace, she kissed the underside of his chin and his throat when she couldn't reach the rest of his face, she buried her fingers in his hair and ran soothing hands down his back… and she never, ever pulled away from him first. Because Oliver, who had been deprived of human touch that wasn't intended to hurt him for so long, needed to feel physical kindness as well as the emotional kind.

And really, Felicity was more than willing to give him what he needed.

And yet now, he seemed to want quite the opposite. So yes, his physical distance hurt her. More than it probably should.

By the end of the week, Felicity was going practically insane and her willingness to understand Oliver's reaction was quickly shifting to anger. It wasn't just at the foundry that he was being so frustrating but after-hours too. They didn't exactly live together, officially, but more often than not he would stay over at her place for the most of the week, or she spent the night at his. That hadn't happened once this week. And it was beginning to worry her.

What if I'm losing him? The doubts were beginning to plague her mind, just as they had at the beginning of their relationship. For the first few weeks she had felt despairingly inadequate to be by his side; she supposed it came with the whole infamous-billionaire-slash-badass-vigilante thing. It was just that so many people around them seemed to think their relationship was doomed to fail, even Diggle had his concerns, though he'd been a staunch supporter since the beginning. And then there was the ever-present shadow of Laurel, even more so now that she knew about Oliver.

But Oliver had been quick to shut her down, cupping her face between her hands and speaking to her firmly. The words he'd said still caused her stomach to tighten and her lips to twist into a small smile.

"I want you, Felicity. Only you. If there's anyone that isn't good enough, it's me. You just bring so much good with you, to me, to us. You… Your so amazing, so beautiful and smart and you just can't seem to see it for yourself. But I hope that maybe I can show you, if you continue to let me."

And since then things seemed, well not easier, but better. Despite their arguments and the mistakes they made, they were happy; their relationship was full of vibrancy, it was exciting but also strangely stable (for the most part). And outside of themselves everything seemed to be going well too. Oliver had managed to get his company back, along with his house and club. Dig and Lyla picked up where they had left off. The pain and grief that had come with Moira's death, though still there, had begun to ache a little less. Thea had started a new life and, according to her letters, things were going well for her (though how they were going well, she never did divulge). Even Laurel contributed to general uplift of mood around Starling City in this last year; it seemed she was well and truly over Oliver.

But, despite all of this, here she was. In her apartment. Alone. On a Friday night. No delectable, amazing boyfriend seated beside her.

Just as she starting considering just barging over to Queen manor and demanding explanations, there was a knock on her door. Grumbling to herself, she stood up to get it.

Of course, when she opened it she hadn't expected to get an armful of Oliver Queen as he wrapped himself around her, crushing her to him (well, more than an armful really, the man was in no way small). Felicity froze momentarily in his embrace, considering pulling back for the briefest moment. But, as always, she ended up melting into him, despite her anger, which was very much still present.

"I'm really mad at you, I hope you know." The blonde finally muttered, unable to take the silence any longer.

"I know. And it's deserved. I'm… I'm sorry." Oliver said softly back, still not letting go, his arms locked firmly around her. They collapsed back into silence until he finally made himself let her go just enough so they could look at one another, his hands now on the small of her back.

"Why?" She asked after a while, not needing to elaborate, and knowing that if she even attempted to it would end in uncontrollable word-vomit, which she really didn't need right now. Oliver would be the one doing the talking this time.

"Last week at Verdant, when that man came it… it brought up some memories… it made me think of things I'd rather forget…"

Felicity looked at him searchingly. "You mean Slade?"

He inclined his head. "It was the thought that someone could get so close to you again. That man, he wasn't anything like Slade but he was right there, in the place where you're supposed to be safe until I can get to you. But even with me right next to you, there he was." He seemed to struggle for a moment. "The last time, I had to give you up as bait and it… it could've killed me. I knew you were capable, but if I had failed in protecting you… The idea that something like that could happen again, because of me, it's unthinkable."

Felicity cut him off, realization dawning. "So you distanced yourself."

"All I want is for you to be safe. And that's best away from me." Oliver said firmly.

"Oliver, I get that you're trying to be honorable or whatever, and it's admirable, what you're trying to do. But I've told you before, I want to be with you. And if that means being unsafe then that's what I'll be… You don't get to make my choices for me." She said, trying to sound collected but knowing a note of frustration came through.

"I know, I know." Oliver said quickly, sadness overtaking his features. "I really am sorry. If there's anything that these past few days taught me, it's that being without you isn't an option anymore." He paused then, gaging her reaction, blue eyes burning into her. "I love you."

Felicity froze, and this time there was no melting into anything, least of all Oliver. And, for the first time in their entire relationship, she stepped back away and out of his arms.

"Don't." She said, voice tight. "Don't say that. Don't lie, Oliver. Not to me." Vaguely, she registered his shocked expression as her throat clogged, eyes beginning to water. She turned away from him.

"Felicity, it's true, I love-"

"No, it's not." She replied vehemently. "You're fond of me, yes, you need me, sure, but love me? No, that's not… no." She trailed off. "You don't need to pretend with me, I know you said what you had to, with Slade, but you don't need to say anything with me. I'm here, ok?" Her eyes dropped to the floor.

"Felicity." Oliver said her name again, his voice soft; softer than she'd ever heard it before. He approached her slowly as if trying to calm a wounded animal. Reaching out, he placed two fingers under her chin, lifting her face up, but her eyes stayed down. "Felicity, please." His voice sounded pained. Finally she glanced up at him and sucked in a sharp at what she saw in his expression. "I love you." He stressed, voice filled with sincerity, and uncharacteristic vulnerability. "I have loved you for months and I will continue to love despite either of our fears or doubts. I love you, Felicity. This isn't a trick, it was never a trick." Somewhere in his speech his hands had moved to cup her face between, thumbs wiping away a few stray tears. "I love you." He repeated, leaning his forehead to hers. "I love you." Quieter now.

And finally she started to maybe, just maybe actually believe him. So he said it again, and again, until it sank in and the belief became firm and it warmed her to her very core. That very rare, very special feeling of utter happiness overcame her then and she found herself surging forward just as Oliver was slanting his lips overs hers. She clutched at him almost desperately, winding her arms tightly around his neck, standing on her tiptoes to compensate for their rather large height difference. Luckily, Oliver was quick to help in that regard, his arms travelling back around her waist, pressing her closer to him and lifting her off the ground.

"I'm still mad." Felicity managed to get out in between kisses.

"I know." He briefly paused, before he continued with his mission and his lips travelled to her cheek, before moving down.

"But I might forgive you. If you-" she shivered as his mouth reached the hollow of her throat, "-don't stop with that."

She could practically hear his smirk. "I know." Before she could formulate a response, however, Oliver had spun them so that she was pressed against the door that he walked in earlier, and, really, there wasn't much talking after that.

Even so, a little while later...

"I love you too, you know."

This time Oliver paused completely, lifting his head to meet her eyes, looking down at her warmly, the smallest of smiles playing at his lips, but it was his real smile, and that was all that mattered.

"I know."

So that took quite a different turn than I thought it would. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it (hopefully it wasn't too OOC; I haven't written any Arrow ff before so I do apologize if it was)! Oh, and for those of you waiting on my other fics, I'm in the process of writing them, so updates will be coming by soon :)

Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!

RW