A/N: Hey everybody! Sorry it's taking me a while to get chapter 2 out. I got the flu and then headed back to college and had to deal with executive things for this organization. Anyway, here it is! Hope you enjoy and thank you everyone for your support!

Chapter 2

Oliver's breath hitched. He sat frozen in his position, calculating what his response would be. He could easily take this guy out; he wouldn't be expecting it. But then there's the problem of the half a dozen guards on the other side of this forklift.

"Put the bow down," the man spat out.

Oliver slowly put the bow on the ground and raised his hands near his head. He could still feel the barrel of the gun pressed to his skull. In a swift move, he reached behind him and grabbed the gun, forcing it away from his head. He spun and came face to face with his attacker, a large man a few inches taller than Oliver with cannons for arms and a neck so thick Oliver couldn't tell where his head started and his torso began.

The man soon began to overpower Oliver and grappled with the gun. He was forcing it back at Oliver's head and as they struggled, the guards and Amadeus soon took notice. The gun went off and Oliver felt the bullet whiz past his left ear. Oliver blinked slowly, the white noise overtaking his head. There was too much going on. Oliver couldn't hear anything and could barely register what was in front of his face. Somehow, he'd kicked his leg out and the large guard now lay flat on his back in front of him, the gun clattering out of his hand and landing a few feet away. Oliver quickly reacted and kicked the gun even further away but not before other guards were upon him.

Oliver fought one off, kicking him in the gut and then banging the guard's head on Oliver's knee. He spun and caught the barrel of an automatic weapon pointed at his face. He jerked it out of the guard's hand and slammed the grip back to his chest. From somewhere unknown, Oliver could see more people closing on him. Knowing he couldn't fight all of them with their guns, Oliver snatched his bow from the dirty concrete floor and aimed it at the ceiling. As he shot the arrow, a rope followed it and Oliver went flying into the air onto one of the beams.

Before he'd gained his balance, he felt the searing pain of one of the bullets graze his stomach. He let out a grunt and winced before finding his balance and hurrying back out through the window he'd come in through. Doubled over, he quickly found his way back to his bike, clutching one side. He brought it to life and sped away from the scene. Oliver could feel the blood starting to coat the inside of his jacket and cursed at the pain and himself. Now that he'd revealed himself at the warehouse, there was no way Amadeus or any of those guys would be back. He'd have to start at square one again and that would just get more Vertigo on the streets.

Oliver parked at the back of Verdant and crept through the shadows until he reached the secret door to the foundry. He punched in the code and pushed his way in. Immediately, he called out, "Felicity!"

She looked up from her position at her computers and instantly shot to her feet. She hurried over to him as fast as her high heels would take her. When she reached him, he slung an arm around her shoulders and leaned into her.

"You know, you're really going to have to lay off those cheeseburgers." Felicity said jokingly. "You're too fat for me to handle."

"Felicity…," Oliver groaned.

"I'm just kidding. But seriously, I'm starting to think that we should deviate from Big Belly Burger because I'm getting fat and you and Digg are probably going to have to start working out more. Not that you don't work out enough already, because you do. I mean, I would know, but—-," Felicity began to ramble.

"Felicity!" Oliver cut her off.

"Sorry, here," Felicity stopped in front of the metal slab of a table and let him collapse on to the stool.

He'd already thrown his hood back and slipped the mask off. He threw it on to the table behind him. Clenching his jaw, he began to unzip the leather jacket. The pain wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He'd had worse, but pain was still pain. He got the zipper to the bottom but stopped to take a deep breath.

"Come on, you're losing blood." Felicity prompted. She slipped her slender fingers inside the jacket up to his shoulders, her fingertips leaving a trail of electricity everywhere they touched. His breath hitched for a completely different reason this time. He couldn't believe that even under these circumstances, even with him bleeding out, she made his heart beat harder and his mind reel. She was the drug he needed.

Oliver focused on the fact that her hands were all over him and not on the pain. One hand gripped his shoulder while the other pushed the leather sleeve off his arm. He looked at her face as she focused on him, the way her lashes cascaded across her cheeks, the way she ever so slightly bit her bottom lip when she concentrated on something important, and the way her eyebrows would draw together when a complication came up unexpectedly. It was the little things. He found her so breathtakingly beautiful and he wanted to tell her, wanted to express the burning feelings that threatened to burst forth from him every time she was around.

But he couldn't.

He needed to keep her safe and being with him was the furthest thing from being safe. He wasn't what she needed. She needed predictable and consistent. She needed—-

"Oliver!" Felicity snapped, roughly gripping his face and making him look her in the eye.

"What?" he responded, not trying to linger on her soft fingers touching his cheek.

"I said I need you to lean back and turn away from me so I can look at the area. And do you think I need to call Diggle? Or Roy? I'm sure either of them would get here real fast. Diggle went home as you were headed to the warehouse. I know you said for Roy to take a few days off because of his insomnia, but he would be here in a flash. You said you were just doing recon! What happened?" Felicity said in a softer tone.

Oliver noticed that her hand was still placed on his cheek, caressing it more than gripping it now. "No," he said. "Don't call Diggle. It's not that deep. You've given me stitches plenty of times, it'll be fine. And I just…ran into some trouble." Oliver ground this last part out, not wanting to admit that he'd let his guard down a little bit. He was too focused on catching the distributer of the drug that almost killed his sister and caused so many problems for Roy's mom that he didn't scrutinize his surroundings as well as he should have.

Oliver twisted so that the part of his torso that was torn open by the bullet grazing his body was right in front of Felicity. He placed his left forearm on the cold, metal table with his right hand gripping the edge of it. He could see that blood had already dripped down past the waistband of his green leather pants. He would have to clean that up later.

Meanwhile, his nerve endings were firing with the simple touches of Felicity Smoak's fingers. Oliver let out a strangled cry of pain as she doused his wound with alcohol.

"Sorry, sorry," she muttered, taking a wet towel to his skin. Her fingers splayed out across his abs as she held him in place and wiped up the blood. He glanced down at the turquoise-painted fingernails and imagined a very different situation in which her hands were on his naked torso. He bit his lip and shook his head ever so slightly. He couldn't think about that right now.

She left his side for a split second to grab the suture kit from the cabinet. He immediately felt the loss of her heat from his side and wanted her back immediately. Normally, he could put these stitches in himself, but when she was there to help, he always let her do it. He loved her gentle touch and she took her time, wanting to get it just right. Oliver figured he was being a little selfish in this aspect, wanting her hands on him and having her in such a close proximity. She didn't seem to have a problem with it though.

After about ten minutes, she finally pulled away, snipping the ends of the thread away from his skin and tossing them in the pan she had used to doctor him up. She squirted some Germ-X into her hands, looking at him.

He stood up straight and looked into her eyes. She crossed her arms as she looked up into his face, a soft smile forming on her lips. She cocked her head to the side, gazing at him imploringly.

"Thank you," he practically whispered.

She nodded, blinking several times, not making eye contact with him.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing, I just…," she trailed off.

"What is it, Felicity?" He urged her, cupping her elbow.

"What's going to happen when one of these injuries is more serious? Like the first time I helped you? Oliver, I don't think I can—-I don't want—-just be careful." Felicity struggled to get the words out.

"Hey, I've said it once before. I'll say it again. You're not going to lose me. I promise." Oliver said.

"How can you promise that?" Felicity asked.

Oliver took a deep breath, looking over her shoulder at the concrete floor. He swallowed, lips parting and searching for different spots behind her. He finally made eye contact with her again, settling on her baby blues and wishing he could wake up to those beautiful eyes every morning.

"Felicity, I—-," he began, but the shrill ringtone of his phone on the table behind him cut him off. He sighed in frustration, stepping away from her and grabbing the phone. He answered the unknown number, snapping irritatingly, "What?"
"Hello, lover," came a singsong voice from the other end of the line.

Oliver couldn't believe it. His jaw slacked a little and his eyes snapped to Felicity's, whose face was scrunched together in confusion.

"Carrie?" Oliver gasped in disbelief.