A/N - Thank you so much for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! It's a nice welcome to the site. I'm sorry it took a few more days than I thought to get this chapter up, but here it is. Please let me know what you think - I love to hear your favorite parts, etc. Thanks again!
The drive to the Moscow office was filled with tense silence, and the meeting lasted two long hours - much to both Oliver and Felicity's chagrin. By the time they found themselves back in their suite, the sun was beginning to set as long shadows fell across the city.
Upon entering the door, she kicked her shoes off almost immediately, her feet protesting from the new heels she'd worn. Her tablet was already in hand, and she was talking at a rapid pace about the information she had gathered from her various searches - which wasn't as much as she was hoping.
"So when are we meeting with your contacts, or is it more of a 'whenever you show up' kind of thing. Digg usually takes care of this with you. Nothing's changed with the tracking device and none of the algorithms I've tried so far have been able to unscramble the signal," she relayed with a heavy sigh and a hand to her forehead trying to rub away the ache that had started as she'd sat in on a meeting of numbers and figures.
"You're not coming with me," Oliver interrupted abruptly from behind her, and she swiveled on the spot.
"What are you talking about?" she asked carefully, eyes narrowing, although she had a sinking suspicion of exactly how this conversation was going to go.
His eyes flashed as he turned to her, his fingers tugging at his tie, loosening it easily.
"It's too dangerous, Felicity. I'll go alone and call you if I get any information."
Felicity bristled as he turned away from her and headed for the bar. There was no way she was letting him go somewhere without her when he had no other back up and no communications system.
They'd already lost Diggle and precious time could be wasted if he had to come all the way back to the hotel.
She wasn't naive. She knew the Bratva were a dangerous organization. She'd done her homework and listened intently when Digg had told her about the first time he'd gone with Oliver to a meeting. They'd made Oliver prove his loyalty by killing a man. And while she knew Oliver had used one of his many super secret tricks he'd learned on the island, the story alone was enough to send shivers down her spine. Their reputation far preceded them, but somehow Oliver had become a captain and regardless of her fears of the organization as a whole, she trusted him with her life.
They were a team. She was as much a part of this team as Diggle, and he was treating her like she wasn't. While she might not have the combat experience that they did, she was still a valuable member of the team and she could hold her own as she'd proven on various occasions - such as walking into underground casinos and being bait for a serial killer - not to mention helping to disarm a seismic device that could level half a city and jumping out of an airplane onto an island whose name literally meant "Purgatory." She knew the risks and she was willing to take them - especially when one of their own was in danger.
She had to jog to catch up with him, but she was able to cut him off before he got to his room, her hair whipping behind her as she halted his progress. Her sudden appearance caused him to stop abruptly, and she silently marveled at his body control when he kept himself from toppling over her.
"If you think I'm just going to sit here and wait while Diggle is out there in trouble, you couldn't be more wrong," she told him evenly, her voice rising with each word. "We are a team. You and Diggle always go to the Bratva together. I'm part of this team too. What if something happens? I'll be stuck here not knowing if you are okay or what's going on with Ms. Rochev breathing down my neck about my inability to keep track of you, and your disappearing tendencies. No, I'm going."
Felicity saw the way his jaw tightened as he took one step closer to her, closing the remaining inches between them, his shirt rubbing against her arm. "It's too dangerous."
"I've been in dangerous situations before, Oliver," she retorted evenly, her fingers clutching her tablet tightly. "How is this any different?"
"We're talking about the Russian mob, Felicity," he tried to reason, his voice rising with each word.
She shook her head, refusing to back down. "You let me be bait for a serial killer and walk into an underground casino with mob connections. I see no difference here."
"There is a difference," he bit out, and she could feel the tension drifting off of him in waves. "I don't have Digg or any back up. If anything happened…"
"You didn't have Digg at the casino either," she pointed out and he leveled her with a glare.
She knew she was going to have to give something, or he wasn't going to budge.
"I'll stay in the car," she offered, tilting her head to the side and holding his gaze. "But I'm going."
Their eyes locked in a silent battle for what seemed like ages before he sighed heavily.
"Fine," he said, running a hand through his hair. "But no matter what happens. You stay in the car."
Felicity swallowed in apprehension, but nodded her head.
They looked as if they were simply headed to a nice, working dinner as they exited the hotel, the black Mercedes once again waiting for them under the carport. Oliver stepped up to the driver and whispered a few words to him before the man nodded with a small smile and walked away.
Felicity frowned as Oliver helped her into the front seat of the car, eyes narrowing at him in suspicion.
It wasn't until they were pulling out onto the streets of Moscow that she voiced her question.
"What did you tell the driver to get him to let you take the car on your own?"
Her eyes caught the way his face pinched at her question and she had a feeling she wasn't going to like his response.
"Just remember that you wanted to come along," Oliver began and she leveled him with a glare worthy of the Arrow's. He sighed before responding, "Might have said something about wanting to show you some of the sights...alone…"
The implication in his voice and the way the timbre changed, had Felicity gasping. "Oliver Queen!"
He had the decency to look at least a little chagrined. "We needed the car to ourselves," Oliver tried to explain, "And like you said, my reputation precedes me…"
"And like I said, I don't need more gossip about mine," she replied, sinking back into the seat.
"He won't tell anyone," he said with authority. "He would lose his job. Discretion is par for the course."
Felicity let out a huff of air, and crossed her arms. "Isabel already thinks we're sleeping together. Why not add the rest of the hotel staff to that list?"
Her mumbled words had Oliver turning to her with an upticked brow. But she just shook her head, not wanting to have that conversation again, and turned to look out the window.
Lights lit up the colorful spires and onion domes as they drove, dusk fully upon the city.
Oliver began to point out important buildings and places to her, and she let herself relax as she listened to the sound of his voice drifting through the darkened space.
His stories stopped abruptly when they turned down a more deserted road and headed into an older-looking district of the city. Men in heavy coats lingered on street corners in front of abandoned store fronts. She could see them eyeing the expensive Mercedes that drove through their streets so late in the evening.
Felicity shifted in her seat, clamping down on the uneasy feeling settling into her stomach.
When they pulled to a stop in front of what looked like a row of old factories, Oliver let out a long breath before turning to her.
She was surprised when he grasped her hand, fingers curling around her wrist. "You stay in the car. You keep the doors locked. And if anything happens, you run."
"Oliver…" Her voice was shakier than she would have liked, betraying her desire to convey her composure in the face of the fear trickling down her spine.
"No, promise me," he whispered vehemently and she could only nod her head in response to the pleading look in his eyes.
"This shouldn't take too long," he said, voice returning to normal as he reached for the door handle.
Her hand shot out, grasping his arm before he could push the door open. "Be careful," she murmured, searching his face in the dim light.
His eyes held hers for the briefest of moments before he nodded, opening the car door and stepping out.
She locked it quickly behind him, and he didn't move forward until he heard them click into place.
The man walking away from her was every inch the Arrow and not Oliver Queen. His posture, the way he carried himself told her he was on full alert. Confidence oozed out of him, his steps sure and quick. He stuck to the shadows until coming to a door and knocking. She watched with baited breath as it was opened and he disappeared behind it.
The minutes ticked by slowly. She hated not having the comms where she could hear everything going on and be in contact with Oliver at all times. As it was, she just had to sit and wait, and the longer she waited, the higher her anxiety and fear skyrocketed.
Turning on her tablet, she brought up the tracker on Oliver's phone, just to ease some of her worry. When she saw the red dot that signified his device in the building in front of her, she let out a sigh.
But before she could flip back to the scans she'd been running, there was a resounding click and Felicity eyes flew up just in time to see two men standing outside the car, leering smiles on their faces as they yanked the door open.
She screamed, and threw herself across the console trying to get away from the hands that immediately began pulling at her legs and arms. Her tablet slipped from her lap to the floor as she reached for the steering wheel, trying to get to the horn to alert Oliver, but the men were too strong.
One hand wrapped in her hair and yanked hard, she let out a cry of pain as they bodily pulled her from the car.
Her legs flailed out, searching for the weak spots that Oliver and Digg had taught her to aim for in her training. When she heard the safety of a gun clicking off, cold metal being pushed against her temple, ice cold fear darted through her.
Freezing, her heart jumped into her throat as tears pricked her eyes.
The roar of blood pounding through her ears rose steadily and she wished she could yell Oliver's name but a hand clamped down over her mouth and she was hauled back into a firm body.
Hands roamed over her, and she tried to twist away from them, but the metal pressed harder against her head. "If you don't stop struggling, you're going to lose your pretty little head," came a deep voice with a thick Russian accent. "And that would be such a shame."
A hand traveled over the front of her stomach, splaying against her abdomen and she felt bile rise in her throat at the foreign touch. Slamming her eyes shut, she tried to think of Oliver and Diggle and steel herself against the fear that threatened to paralyze her.
Knowing she couldn't let these men see her break, she fought back the tears pooling in her eyes, and tried to calm her furiously beating heart.
The man holding her, lifted her feet off the ground, and practically carried her through the alleyway, toward the building that Oliver had entered. A brief flare of hope rose within her at this knowledge.
The building was dark and damp, but she could make out the machines of the old textile factory. The smell of oil and something dank and unsettling filled her nostrils, but she didn't have time to dwell on it before the man who was holding her pushed forward, his hand inching higher on her body. She flinched and she heard a low, dangerous chuckle in her ear that made her stomach churn.
They headed for the back of the building where a dim light emanated from and she guessed the main offices were housed. As they approached, she heard voices filter through the air and she recognized the low timbre of one of them.
As they walked, she took in her surroundings, eyes darting to possible exit routes as Diggle had drilled into her head. She saw two towards the back besides the one they'd come from and noted them carefully. Oliver's words rang in her mind. If anything happens, you run.
Given the chance, she'd do just that even though she would struggle doing it without him.
When they rounded the corner, Felicity almost let out a cry of relief at seeing Oliver standing ten feet in front of her with his back to them. He was conversing fluently in Russian and Felicity wanted to take the moment to relish the sound of his deep voice speaking a different language with such ease but she could feel the cold metal against her temple again and tried not to let out the whimper that was rising within her throat.
Her captor spoke up then, calling out in Russian to the man Oliver was talking to, interrupting with almost a gleeful tone.
Oliver pivoted almost immediately and her eyes locked with his as his frame stilled completely. She saw the split-second of fear and anger that flashed through his eyes before his mask was back in place and he regarded the man who held her with a steely gaze.
His voice was low, but commanding when he spoke and it sent spires of something twirling through her despite the situation.
She wished she could understand what exactly he was saying, but there was no doubt from his tone that he was deadly serious. He repeated a phrase, this time louder and the barrel of the gun disappeared from her forehead.
A small gasp of relief left her lips, which were still covered by the large man's hand. Oliver's eyes hardened, his gaze never leaving the man who held her.
Her captor spoke, and she could almost hear the smile in his voice as his hand that held her to him began to move upwards. She felt him turn his head into her hair and squeezed her eyes shut as his fingers ghosted under her breast.
Felicity squirmed, throwing her head to the side, trying to get away from him and his curious hands, but he just held her tighter. She felt lips hover over her throat and a cry tore from deep within her.
Oliver's voice thundered around them. And then faster than she could open her eyes, she was being yanked away from the man who'd held her captive and pulled into strong, familiar arms.
Oliver's scent surrounded her and she fell against him with a gasping sob. She could feel the tension that ran throughout his body, even as his arm came up and around her possessively. Tucking her head into his neck, she took a few deep, even breaths before regaining enough control of her emotions that she could look up.
His eyes found hers, and the look in them pleaded with her to go along with whatever he was about to do. She gave him a small smile, and then his free hand wove into the strands of her hair and his thumb caressed the underside of her jaw.
She sucked in a deep breath as his face drew closer to hers, lips grazing her mouth and pulling the air from her lungs.
When he pulled back and turned to the other men, she looked as well, finding the scrutinizing faces that stood in front of them, including the man who she assumed was the other captain he'd been talking with before they'd been interrupted.
The two men who'd found her were off to the side, anger blazing in their eyes and arms crossed.
Oliver's voice was calm but there was a hint of something else - something deeper and primal.
The other captain spoke and Oliver shifted, his hands suddenly all over her, one arm banded tightly around her waist and the other shifting down through her hair and over her collarbone. Despite the situation, his touches were leaving little trails of heat in their wake and she suddenly felt even more unbalanced.
When one of his hands came to rest just over her heart as it curved around her shoulders, so close to the edge of her dress, his fingers tracing circular patterns into the skin, she took in a deep, halting breath.
The captain suddenly smiled and then laughed, and Oliver tucked her against him once more, his arms a protective shield around her. He turned his face toward hers once more and their eyes met before his nose and mouth ghosted over the side of her cheek and her mind went blessedly blank as she fought the desire to turn her head and meet his mouth. The gentlest pressure from earlier hadn't been enough. She ached to feel his mouth fully pressed against hers - taking and giving with fervor.
Something was going on here - a battle of dominance or wills. Oliver was most definitely playing a part. There was no way he'd be touching her like that otherwise. She knew this and yet she couldn't ignore the feelings rising within her. She couldn't help thinking that it wasn't all just a ruse.
His muscles were still bunched and coiled for action under her fingertips. The tight set of his jaw indicated he was close to his breaking point.
A few more words were exchanged, and then Oliver started to lead her out of the building, his arms still firmly around her, holding her to him. When they passed the men who had brought her in, she pressed closer to him, the memory of their hands on her body still fresh in her mind. His embrace tightened and she knew if she turned her head, he'd be giving the men one of his most dangerous looks.
Oliver didn't let go of her until they reached the car. Pulling open the door, he kept her steady as she sank down onto the seat she'd been violently taken from moments earlier. Her hands trembled as she tried to buckle her seatbelt, and it took her four tries before she heard it click into place.
Crossing quickly to the other side, Oliver slid in, his hand reaching across and tangling with one of hers immediately. Starting the car, he pulled away from the dark alley, and it wasn't until they were back on the main roads that she let out a halting breath.
"Are you okay?" he asked gruffly, his eyes glancing at her every few seconds as he drove.
She let out another shaky sigh, and nodded. "Yeah."
Even as she said the words, she felt the strangled sob that rose unbidden in her throat and squeezed his hand tightly.
"What happened?" he ground out, and she could see his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel.
"I...I don't know. I stayed in the car. I waited for you. I was checking the tracking devices to make sure you were still there and they came out of nowhere...I tried to get away...to fight them off, but then there was the gun and I just...I didn't…"
Her words trailed off as she fought for breath between her gasping sobs. Pressing her eyes shut, she took deep steadying breaths until the tears were no longer threatening to fall and the burning in her chest had subsided.
Oliver hand was clamped tightly around hers and she knew he was seconds from stopping the car to make sure she was okay, so she spoke up to reassure him.
"I'm okay. You got us out of there. That's all that matters," she whispered, voice raw with emotion.
The defeated sigh that fell from the Oliver's lips was the only sound either made for the rest of the trip back to the hotel, but his hand never left hers.