TITLE: Safe in Your Embrace
CHARACTERS: Oliver Queen, Felicity Smoak, John Diggle
SUMMARY: Oliver has problems with risking Felicity's safety - and his heart (Or the time Felicity convinced Oliver to go undercover)
SPOILERS/WARNINGS: Set after "Keep Your Enemies Closer," goes AU after that
AUTHOR'S NOTES: The image of Felicity donning a mask in the previews for "The Man Under the Hood" stirred the creative juices and I dusted off a WIP I had abandoned. Comments/feedback are always appreciated. Thanks to OrisounAsh and iluvtorun for looking the fic over and providing excellent suggestions and fixes.
DISCLAIMER: Oliver Queen and company belong to DC Comics.
"No! Absolutely not!" Oliver's roar thundered inside the foundry.
"But it could work," Felicity pressed.
"I said no!" He put the bow in its case and spun around to face her. "End of discussion."
"Just listen … "
"Felicity!" Oliver took a step forward and got in her face. This move, meant to intimidate, always worked with criminals when he was the Arrow. In a near growl, he said, "It's never, ever going to happen."
Felicity tilted her head, letting him know the move had totally failed. Of course it did. She'd never allowed herself to be intimidated by him. It was foolish of him to even try. But he was getting a little desperate. The idea of having Felicity out in the field, where things could go horribly wrong in seconds, scared the living hell out him.
Thrice she'd gone undercover — during the first time, the casino boss had caught on to their scheme. A serial murderer had almost captured her during the second. The only time their plan had actually worked was when they'd broken into Merlyn Global, and even that had involved quick thinking on Diggle's part.
"Why?" she asked, annoyance in her voice. "Give me one good reason."
Oliver backed away, shaking his head. He knew her well enough to recognize the stubborn jut of her chin and the look of determination in her eyes. Merriam-Webster should capture that expression and put it next to the definition for stubborn-as-hell.
He should have headed straight for the shower after saying no the first time. She wouldn't have followed him in there, which meant they wouldn't have continued this insane conversation. By staying he'd given Felicity a chance to argue her point. And there was a small part of his brain that recognized she did have one. He immediately shouted down that traitorous brain cell.
No, he wasn't going to give in. "I have a million reasons."
"I'm asking for just one."
"It's not safe."
"What's not safe?" Diggle's voice boomed inside the lair.
"Oh, thank God, you're here," both he and Felicity said as Diggle walked down the stairs. Oliver glowered at Felicity, who scowled right back. Did she really think Diggle was going to side with her after he heard her crazy plan?
"Felicity wants to go undercover," Oliver told Diggle. "As a dominatrix."
The older man stopped at the bottom of the stairs, crossed his formidable arms and fixed Felicity with a steely look. Oliver mentally cheered as he saw her composure slip a little and gave her a smirk when she threw a dirty glance at him. Oh, if looks could kill.
"I don't want to," she said, placing emphasis on the third word, "but we need to find out what Thrace Jansen knows about this mysterious new drug lord and the pills coming into the city. He doesn't keep any information on computers so I have nothing to hack. And he," she jerked a thumb at Oliver, "he can't use his fear-of-God approach if he can't even get near Jansen."
"We can't grab him?" Diggle asked.
Oliver shook his head. "We've been watching his estate for weeks now. He doesn't leave."
"How about breaking in?"
This time it was Felicity who responded. "Better guarded than Fort Knox. The guy has guns, goons and a moat. A really deep moat. Don't know yet if there are alligators in. Or is it crocodiles? Anyway, Jansen takes his security very seriously."
"I can handle the goons and the guns," Oliver said.
Felicity glared at him. "Yes, but I already told you, Jansen will just lock himself in his panic room if his estate is attacked and you still won't get to talk to him."
Diggle help up his hand, bemusement written all over his face. "How does pretending to be a dominatrix play into this?"
"He likes them." Felicity walked over to her computers and began opening files. One of them was a photo of a balding, short and pudgy man somewhere in his 50s. "I dug deeper into his past and found that he used to frequent dungeons in Gotham City years ago. He'd been picked up by the police a couple of times and someone tried very hard to make those files go away. Silly them. They were no match for my magic fingers …" her voice trailed off and she cast a glance over her shoulder at Diggle and Oliver. "I meant my computer skills, of course."
Diggle tried to hide his chuckle with a cough, while Oliver tried very hard to quash the memories of her fingers on his skin.
"Just because he hasn't been caught again doesn't mean Jansen has abandoned his fetish." Felicity pulled up a video file of a town car driving past a traffic light, then swiped her hand over the computer to send it to the bigger screen so Oliver and Diggle can take a better look. "I got this from a traffic camera a mile from the estate. Jansen doesn't get a lot of visitors. But once a month, that car heads to the estate, then leaves after an hour or two. I traced it to a modeling agency in Metropolis."
"Let me guess," Diggle interjected. "It's not really a modeling agency."
"Oh, but it is!" Felicity clicked on a tab to open the website for House of Payne. "But the most lucrative part of the business is downstairs in the dungeons."
The website had a simple white background and featured a gallery of black-and-white headshots of gorgeous women. Diggle clicked on a photo and another version showed up, this time a full body shot of the woman in a mask and catsuit. The blurb next to the photo identified her as Mistress BellaDonna.
Oliver turned to Felicity and raised an eyebrow. But she pointedly ignored him.
"I'm still not convinced this is the way to go. How do we know Jansen doesn't have a favorite?" Diggle asked.
"He doesn't. According to the agency's records, he likes variety." Felicity wiggled her eyebrows at him and smiled. "As long as they are blonde."
"That only gets you in," Diggle pointed out. "You'd still need at least one of us with you."
Felicity's smile turned mischievous. "Oh, didn't I mention Jansen likes to be watched? The women always bring a male bodyguard."
Oliver looked in the rearview mirror and met Felicity's eyes. "Ready?"
She nodded and slipped on the last piece of her costume, a black Venetian-style mask that covered half her face.
Oliver's eyes dropped to her bold red lips, which the mask now alluringly framed. They look so soft and he wondered, not for the first time, how they taste. It was a thought that crossed his mind with disturbing regularity these days.
"I hope this works."
Felicity's words jolted Oliver into focus and he turned his attention back on the road. Moments later, he was stopping at the gates of Jansen's estate and slipping on his own mask. They'd taken the masks and the car from real dominatrix and bodyguard they had ambushed. The pair was now stashed in an abandoned shed a few miles away, sleeping off the effects of the tranquilizer darts.
He and Diggle had finally agreed Felicity's plan was their best chance of getting to Jansen. But they still spent a couple of days coming up with responses to various the-plan-went-to-hell scenarios. He was going in as the driver and bodyguard. There had been no arguments about that. Diggle was going to stay outside the estate, ready to create a distraction if they needed a quick escape. It was still all very risky. If for any reason Jansen's security caught on to their ploy, he and Felicity would be trapped inside a house filled with mercenaries and former military guys who were armed to the teeth.
"Here we go," Oliver said softly as he rolled down the windows so the guards can take a look at him and Felicity. Their relaxed postures told him they didn't expect any threat, and the thorough study Felicity got had more to with appreciation rather than apprehension. The gates clanged open and Oliver drove toward the house.
Another group of guards stood at the front doors. Oliver got out of the car and was immediately patted down, though again the check was rather cursory. Another guard opened the door for Felicity, but she waited for Oliver to come around and escort her.
The small hand that clasped his was slightly cold and he gave it a quick, reassuring squeeze as he helped her out of the car. But there was nothing in Felicity's demeanor that hinted at her nervousness when she faced the guards. In fact, there was arrogance in the way she held her head and shoulders as she swept the men with a long look. Then she unbuckled her belt and took off the long leather coat she was wearing and handed it to him.
He'd seen her in the leather catsuit when she'd come out of the bathroom back in the lair, but Oliver's throat went dry just the same. He swallowed to ease the sudden tightness and noticed the other men doing the same thing. The outfit covered Felicity from throat to toe, but it revealed more than it hid — the curves of her breasts, hips and back, the long sleek lines of her legs.
"As you can see I can't really hide anything, so let's skip the patdown, shall we?" Felicity said in that no-nonsense tone Oliver knew so well. With those words, she strode past the men.
One of the guards scrambled to open the door for her. Oliver followed a bit more slowly, thankful the mask hid the smile on his face. If Felicity had seen it, she would have recognized the emotion behind it.
Pride.
Felicity's eyes widened as she took in the padded walls with rings and hooks at various levels for chains. An X-cross stood in the center and there was a spanking bench next to it. A long glass case that ran along one side of the room held paddles, whips, vibrators and dildos and various sex toys.
They had been led to a room on the second floor. After the guard closed the door, Felicity turned to Oliver and mouthed "Oh my God!"
Oliver took a quick step toward the door and locked it, just before another door at the far end of the room opened. Thrace Jansen walked in wearing only leather wrist cuffs and briefs. He reminded Felicity very much of Danny DeVito as Penguin in an old Batman movie.
He sidled up to her with a smile and, in an oily voice, said, "I've been a bad, bad boy. Am I going to be punished?"
Felicity fought the urge to run away from the sleazy man. Instead, she reminded herself that she'd prepared for this kind of encounter. She'd read everything she could get her hands on about BDSM for this assignment. She understood the dynamic, theoretically. Now, it's time to make it a reality. I'm a powerful and sexy woman, she thought. I'm a dominatrix. This man will bow to my will.
"Depends," she responded, making her voice low and husky. "Will your guards hear if you scream?"
Jansen's smile widened, "This room is soundproofed."
Oh, that solves the noise problem, Felicity thought. One of their worries was that the guards would come running as soon as Oliver began the interrogation. "Perfect!" Felicity purred. "Now, step back."
The older man obeyed right away and bumped into Oliver who immediately caught him in a headlock.
"Ack! What's going on?!"
Oliver growled into Jansen's ear. "You're going to tell us where you're getting the drugs from and who you're sending them to in Starling City."
"I don't know anything," Jansen insisted, trying to break free from Oliver's hold.
"You're the middleman. You know everything." Oliver pressed, tightening his arm around Jansen's neck.
But the older man just continued to fight off Oliver. "I'm not going to tell you anything."
Felicity and Oliver exchanged glances. The fear-of-God approach wasn't working and they didn't have a lot of time. Someone could figure out at anytime that they were impostors and pull the alarm. Felicity zeroed in on Jansen's words. There was definitely something to tell. But he wasn't telling ...
"Stop!"
Jansen immediately halted his thrashing, while Oliver's head snapped up. She couldn't see his face through the mask but she imagined he looked confused and maybe annoyed at being interrupted. However, Jansen's quick response confirmed her hunch. He wasn't going to tell Oliver, but he may very well tell her.
"Release him," she told Oliver. "Now," she snapped out for emphasis.
It took a beat, but Oliver slowly removed his hands from Jansen and took a small step back.
Felicity pointed to the spanking bench. "Sit." Jansen promptly plopped himself down.
"You're going to tell us everything you know." Felicity strode toward the wall and took down a switch. "And if you please me," she snapped the switch on the bench between Jansen's legs, "I will make you scream."
She held her breath as Jansen chewed on her offer. Please, please, she prayed, let this work. She could feel Oliver's eyes on her but he'd stayed quiet, letting her run the show. It was exhilarating — and downright terrifying.
"The drugs are coming from Metropolis," Jansen began in a whisper, looking at the spot the switch had hit.
Felicity shot Oliver a startled look. It worked.
"They take the back roads to the old Gateway mill in the Glades to a man called Silver Dragon."
"Who is he?" Felicity asked as she slipped a hand inside one of her boots and took out a phone she'd turned into a portable polygraph.
"I don't know. No one has seen his face. He wears a silver mask."
"How many shipments does he get?"
"Two a month. On the 15th and 30th."
"We good?" Oliver asked Felicity.
"Almost. We just need a baseline."
Oliver turned to Jansen and growled. "What color are your shoes?"
Felicity didn't bother hiding her laugh as the older man looked at his bare feet in confusion. "Uhm, I … I'm not wearing any."
"OK, we're done." Felicity slipped the phone back in her boots.
"Wait," Jansen called out, a note excitement in his voice. "What about my punishment?" He flipped onto his stomach on the spanking bench.
"Of course," Felicity said as she stuck her tongue out at Oliver, whose shoulders were shaking from what she strongly suspected was laughter. "But let me tie you up first." She slipped the chains on the bench to the hooks on his wrists and pulled them tight. Then she wrapped a silk cloth over his eyes. "To enhance the sensations," she explained.
Oliver waited at the door with her coat but Felicity hesitated, then picked up the switch and gave Jansen's butt a light tap. His moan filled the room. Felicity counted to three in her head then gave him a slightly harder tap. The moan got louder. "Count to ten slowly for the next hit," she told him before tiptoeing across the room.
She and Oliver slipped out of the room and headed quickly toward the stairs. They were out of the estate and picking Diggle up before any of the guards realized what had happened.
"Hey, what are you still doing here?"
Felicity turned to face him. "I wanted to get a jump on Silver Dragon. That alias has shown up all over the place. ARGUS has a pretty thick file on him."
"That can wait. Go home, get some sleep. You've had a pretty exciting day," he said with a smile.
"I did, didn't I?" Felicity laughed, a happy sound that made Oliver's heart jump. "I still can't believe I pulled off this look."
"You look amazing. You had those guards tripping over their tongues."
"Only the guards?" she asked flirtatiously.
Oliver shook his head. "Every man out there who wasn't blind." Did his voice sound hoarse? He decided to change the topic. "How did you know to do all that? You read him very well."
Felicity shrugged.
"You're not going to tell me your secret?" Oliver teased. "Did you perhaps dabble in BDSM before becoming a tech whiz?"
Felicity laughed again. "First of all, I've always been a tech whiz. Second, my roommate in college did a paper on alternative lifestyles and she took me with her to visit some dungeons in Gotham."
He groaned. "Boring! I prefer the closet dominatrix scenario."
Felicity chuckled. "You would."
"Seriously, though, you did good out there."
She walked up to him with a hopeful smile. "Does that mean I'll get to go out in the field more often?"
Oliver thought of how quickly things could have gone horribly wrong earlier. It was dumb luck that Jansen's guards were incredibly inept at their job.
"Maybe. We'll see."
Felicity pouted.
"Look, I just want to keep you safe."
"Of course." Felicity turned away, her disappointment evident.
"I don't want to put you in even more danger."
Felicity whirled around. "Oliver, I've been in danger since the moment you crawled into my car. No, since the moment you gave me a bullet-riddled laptop."
Oliver opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. Where did their light-hearted banter go? He had a feeling this conversation was heading toward something he wasn't quite ready to explore — or admit. "So …"
"So that's your excuse for everything. And it doesn't really work. You won't take me out in the field because it's not safe. You can't be with somebody you could really care about because of the dangers of the life you lead. If you're not interested, then fine. Just don't say you're keeping me at arm's length because that's the only way to keep me safe."
Oliver ran a hand across his face. "I'm not sure what we're talking about anymore. What do you want from me, Felicity?"
"Nothing you're too scared to give." Felicity's voice broke on the last word.
Oliver watched helplessly as she grabbed her bag and half ran, half walked toward the stairs. He should let her go, let her continue thinking he didn't see her that way, care for her that way.
But he was tired of pretending. He wanted to hold her. To be held by her. To look into her eyes and see the man he wanted to become. To stand by her side and work to save their city.
And he really, really also just wanted to kiss those distracting, boldly painted lips.
She was nearly on the first step when Oliver caught her hand and drew her close.
"I do want to," he whispered in her hair. "But I'm not sure how."
"Want what?" she asked huskily.
"This."
"What's this?"
Oliver's lips curved into a smile. "Us."
Felicity nodded. "I'm not sure how either. How do you have a relationship with a man who's a playboy CEO by day and a hood-wearing vigilante at night? How do you get a man who still keeps secrets from his five years on a hellish island to open up? How do you compete with all the leggy—"
Oliver cut off Felicity's rambling with a searing kiss that left them both shaking. He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek. He should be more terrified, drawing her closer like this to his dangerous world. But all he felt was the rightness of it. In this embrace, he was the one who felt safe.
"I guess we'll just figure it out," he said before Felicity pulled his head down for another kiss.
The end
More notes: The scene with Jansen in his estate is not meant to accurately portray dom/sub relationships or the lifestyle.