Here it is. Sorry this took so long, but Felicity's a complicated gal. I'm probably going to do quite a few chapters from different perspectives just because it seems like it might be fun for me. Hopefully I didn't butcher her voice too much.
Felicity had imagined her glorious return to the lair more than once in the weeks after quitting Queen Consolidated (heralding trumpets, fireworks, that whole deal), but she had never really though it would happen. And yet here she was, walking through the empty club floor to the keypad-protected door of the lair—and with something better than fanfare: Oliver. No more days of dying silently of need as he worked out half naked in front of her. No more punishing herself for day-dreaming about what it would be like to forget all the reasons to stay away and go back when she should have been focusing on her new job. Because none of it mattered anymore. He'd come to her and now she could have him anytime she wanted, like she had the other night in her apartment.
She smiles at the memory as she punches the code into the door, but her mood is ruined the moment she looks at the space for the first time. She notices the differences immediately. Diggle had told her about the damage—said Oliver had nearly destroyed it beyond repair in the two weeks before he returned from his honeymoon, said that it took him a full week to get the space functional again. The renovation had taken two months of planning and construction last year, every detail of it personally overseen by her. So, seeing it now, even though the equipment looks relatively organized, she can still tell how bad it really must have been.
Her number one concern during the renovation had been lighting. If she was going to have to spend most of her nights in a concrete hole in the ground, she was at least going to make sure it was well-lit. Yet most of the concrete pillars are devoid of the lights she had installed along them. She approaches one of the now-bare columns and sees that chunks of concrete are missing from where the fixtures used to attach. Those that remain are dented or look like they've been reaffixed. Even the overhead square of light that outlines the main work area seems slightly askew, as if one corner came untethered from the ceiling and was hung back a little off.
The most noticeable difference, though, is the glass cases that house most of the equipment; or rather, the complete absence of glass in any of them. Only the metal frames remain. Felicity approaches the case that contains Oliver's Hood uniform and finds a single, forgotten shard of glass still embedded in the frame. She reaches out and pulls it free, holding it up to the light and pondering how much force it would have taken to break through glass half a centimeter thick.
She wanders around the rest of the lair and frowns at each new discovery of the damage Oliver wrought. The medical cart has a dent in the side that looks like it roughly corresponds to the toe of Oliver's boot. Most of his weapons seem to be brand new and she shudders to think what happened to the others. But worst of all is her beloved 3D printer. It doesn't look irrevocably damaged, but the dent in the side worries her. She almost tests it, just to find out, but stops herself because she would rather not have to yell at Oliver on her first day back.
Felicity examines every section of the lair except one: her own desk. If the rest of it is this bad, she can't imagine what he did to her computers—fragile and defenseless as they are. Yet when she finally squares her shoulders and approaches them, she realizes that they're almost exactly as she left them. The screens have been tilted upwards slightly to accommodate Diggle's height and her keyboard is askew, but the equipment is all the same. Maybe a little dustier than she would typically allow it to get, but still the same pieces.
So Oliver smashed everything in the lair except her computers. Well, it's hard not to read something into that, though she's not quite sure what. But she does know that there is one difference about her desk: her favorite pink cardigan is missing. She's wondering why, of all things, that would be gone when she hears the beep of the door unlocking.
"Felicity?" Diggle's incredulous voice floats down to her. She turns and sees the other third of their team standing at the top of the stairs and a wave of affection rushes through her.
"John!" she exclaims and rushes to meet him at the bottom.
"It's so good to see you back here," he says and wraps her into a hug.
"Thanks," she replies and squeezes that big bear of a man before letting go. "How's Carly?"
"Good. She wants you to come for dinner again—AJ too. I don't think a day goes by where he doesn't ask about you."
"I know," she says and grimaces, "I've been really busy lately."
"So I've heard," he teases and she blushes, "you and Oliver, huh?" Felicity only shrugs and smiles in response.
"Well, if he ever steps out of line, I'll give him a piece of my mind," he threatens, but his tone is too tender to make him seem very frightening.
"I think we both know I have no problem doing that myself," she counters and he chuckles.
"So how's it feel being back?"
"Weird. You weren't kidding about the damage."
"Yeah, I never thought I'd be able to get it to look this good. And Oliver wasn't much help." He adds the last part as a low grumble and Felicity can just guess how many fights there must have been.
"Well, I can get it back to peak condition," she says firmly. "At least he didn't touch my computers," she adds and pats one of the monitors. "But do you know where my sweater went? It's my favorite."
"I threw it out," he says tonelessly.
"What?! Digg, why would you do that?" He doesn't respond right away, just crosses his arms and eyes her warily.
"It had Oliver's blood all over it," he says finally, his voice tight.
"What?" Felicity says hollowly and feels her stomach tie itself into knots. "How...?"
"I don't know," Diggle starts, sounding a little distant. "He's been such a ghost since then that I never really asked him about it. Though I'd guess it had something to do with those two broken fingers he had on his right hand. He actually growled at me the first time I tried to throw it away. Had to wait until he was gone to do it."
"But why..." Felicity begins, but she's interrupted by the beep of the door being opened. She and Diggle both turn toward the sound and Oliver steps in a moment later. He stops in the middle of the staircase and smiles so wide at the sight of them that Felicity can't help but forget their conversation and smile back.
Even so, the effect of it had must not be totally gone from her expression because Oliver's brow creases slightly when he first walks up and kisses her.
"Hey," he says softly and strokes her cheek.
"Hey," she replies and privately marvels at the fact that this is real life and not the best dream ever.
"Ok, lovebirds," Diggle says, "what's the plan for tonight?" Oliver steps back a little before answering, but still stares at her in a way Felicity thinks is a little vulgar considering their partner is standing right there.
"I was thinking we do a little sparring while Felicity settles into things again?" he suggests and turns a questioning look toward Diggle, who shrugs his approval.
"Works for me," Felicity says. "Who knows how long it'll take me to fix all the damage you two have done to the system."
"Now wait a minute," Diggle says defensively, "I read through that very detailed email you sent about using it. I doubt there was anything you didn't cover."
"Well, I remember what the system looked like when I first got here. Just because I never intended to come back doesn't mean I wanted it to go to hell." Diggle smiles, but Oliver's reaction is so quick, Felicity almost misses it. For one split second, his whole body stiffens; his fists clench at his sides and his eyes shut tight like he's just been struck. And then he recovers. The tension leaves his body as he exhales, but his eyes still look a little haunted.
"Ready to get your ass kicked?" Diggle asks and claps Oliver on the shoulder and Felicity's unsure if he saw it too.
"We'll see about that," Oliver counters and smiles. He winks at Felicity before he and his partner go off to change into their work out clothes.
Though "clothes" is a loose term in Oliver's case. Somehow he seems more shirtless than usual. Though maybe that's just because Felicity knows what's under all that clothing now. She shakes her head and tries to focus on updating the system and fixing the mess he and Diggle made of it—the two of them really are the greatest accidental hackers who've ever lived—but Oliver's not exactly making it easy on her. He's always liked to show off (and she would never dream of complaining about his penchant for exhibitionism, distracting as it may be), but he's in rare form today. Every time he lands a hit or climbs another wrung on the salmon ladder, he seems to glance over to gauge her reaction, like some big needy puppy looking for encouragement. It's so adorable it almost makes her angry. How is she supposed to get anything done under these conditions? She pays him back a bit when she has to crawl under her desk and do a bit of rewiring because somehow they've managed to tangle those up too. She smiles to herself when she hears a loud whack and Oliver's startled "Ow!" from behind her.
Eventually, Diggle leaves with the excuse that he has to get home to Carly and AJ, but Felicity suspects he has an ulterior motive and she once again thanks whatever higher power brought him into their lives. Oliver continues to train and she gets lost in the rhythmic sound of him shooting arrows into tennis balls (with only one digression into why he always wears a belt during workouts and what a hindrance it would potentially be). She's so focused on her screens, she doesn't notice he's behind her until his gloved hands suddenly fall onto her shoulders. She jolts in surprise and then relaxes as he begins to knead the tension out of her muscles.
"Mmmm," she hums in satisfaction and shuts her eyes.
"I like having you back," he whispers into her ear and nuzzles into her hair. She unconsciously wraps her arms around her chest and runs her hands up and down her arms, feeling the goosebumps on her skin.
"Cold?" he asks and kisses her temple, his lips feeling so warm against her skin.
"Yeah, I wish you hadn't ruined my sweater," she says absently and only realizes what she's said when she feels him tense. His hands and lips stop and he pauses a second before pulling back from her and standing perfectly upright. Felicity spins around to face him and she's struck dumb for a moment by the anguish in his expression.
"Oliver, I didn't mean..." she starts and then stops when she realizes he's not looking at her. She stands and sees that his eyes are unfocused, empty, that he's a million miles away. "Oliver?" she says, unsure, and places a hand on either side of his face so she can turn him toward her. "Oliver," she repeats a little louder and his eyes focus again. He looks at her like she's a ghost and before she has time to think, he's gripping onto her like he's afraid she'll disappear.
"Felicity," he says, but she barely understands it because his face is pressed so tightly to the side of her neck that it muffles the sound.
"It's ok, Oliver, I'm here," she reassures, voice breaking because he's shivering even though the heat is still coming off his body in waves. She's never seen him like this, so broken, and it scares her. She runs her fingers through his hair—still slick with sweat from his workout—because she knows that calms him. "Oliver, what happened?" she pleads and just as quickly as he grabbed her, he's pushing her away, his shoulders slumped and his eyes downcast in shame. The sudden absence of his warmth is so acute, Felicity has to take a moment to catch her breath.
"Oliver, what happened to you after I left?" she asks and reaches out to him again, but he flinches and takes a step back like an animal afraid of being struck and she swears she hears him whimper. "Diggle said you broke your hand?" she presses and steps toward him, but doesn't try to touch him again. His eyes are distant again and his breathing is growing heavier, like whatever he's remembering is frightening him and something in her mind clicks as she remembers those first days after she quit. "Does it have to do with that man you...beat up?" she asks and his eyes snap to her. His lips part like he's about to say something and he looks almost desperate, pleading. She can't stand to see him like that. Felicity slowly approaches him and tentatively brushes the fingertips of one hand through the stubble on his cheek. His eyes drop closed at the contact and he sighs.
"Please tell me what happened," she begs and reaches her other hand up to brush through his hair again. Oliver reaches up a gloved hand and lays it over hers, pressing it against his cheek.
"I didn't mean to do it," he mutters, eyes still closed. "I was on my way back here from your apartment when I saw him attacking that woman."
"You were at my apartment that night?" she asks incredulously, unable to stop herself from interrupting. He stares at her a moment, like he's expecting her to be angry and she strokes her thumb across his cheekbone to reassure him.
"I went there to try to talk to you," he says barely above a whisper. "I wanted to convince you to stay, but then you smashed that statue I bought you for your birthday and you were crying on the floor." He pauses and looks up at her, so sad, and she feels like the wind has been knocked out of her because that day is so painfully clear in her mind.
She remembers throwing Hoppy 2, mad at herself because Raymond had just accused her, again, of having an affair with Oliver. She had yelled at him, not because the accusation was wrong, but because her love for Oliver had hurt a good man and she still couldn't keep herself from wanting him. She'd spent hours picking up the pieces and putting it back together, only to realize it was pretty much ruined. But that explains why she had found Oliver examining the repaired figure with little smile on his face when she'd gotten out of the shower the other morning.
"I was watching you from the fire escape and I wanted to open your window and go to you so much," Oliver's voice breaks into her thoughts and she can't help but imagine how things might have gone if he had. She would have forgiven him right then; torn that perfectly-fitted Hood outfit off him and had her way with him right there on her bedroom floor. Her heart aches for how much pain could have been avoided. No nights spent laying awake for hours wondering what he and Diggle were doing. No moments of yearning and fear every time she heard a news report about the Hood. No catching herself standing stock still in her apartment with no idea how long she'd been paralyzed by how much she missed him.
"Why didn't you?" she finally asks, unable to keep the hurt out of her voice.
"I thought you hated me," he says and the pain in his voice almost crushes her. "I thought you hated me for ruining things with Edward and I didn't want to hurt you anymore." She feels tears fill her eyes and as hard as she tries to stop them, one escapes down her cheek. Oliver reaches up to wipe it away and then stops himself. He drops both hands to his sides and turns his face away, looking ashamed again.
"When I saw that guy...I just snapped," he continues, voice low and dangerous. "I didn't realize what I'd done until," he pauses and she can see him steeling himself, "until he was already dead. I came back here and when I realized I was hurt, I went to the medical cart and I couldn't stop thinking about you..." He shuts his eyes and shakes his head, like he's trying and failing to fight off the memory. "I lost it, Felicity," he says and finally looks at her again and she gasps slightly at the devastation on his face. "I couldn't stand the idea of you hating me and I knew how disappointed you would be in me for what I did."
"Oliver," she says and grabs his face with both hands before he can step away. "I don't hate you. I never did. And I'm not disappointed in you. You're the hero I always thought you could be. You made a mistake, but you're still good." He looks at her, so desperate, so worried that she might not mean it or that it might not be true. She does the only thing she can think to do: she kisses him like their lives depend on it.
It takes him a second to respond, but then he's kissing her hard and holding her so tight she can barely breath, but she doesn't mind because she's relieved that he's holding her at all. He picks her up and carries her (God she loves when he does that), setting her down so she's pressed against one of the concrete pillars that she is now very thankful no longer has a light fixture attached to it.
She scrapes her nails down his back and her whole body reacts to the low rumble it causes deep in his throat. He's undoing the buttons of her shirt, but his gloves are slowing him down; so, with a frustrated growl, he breaks their kiss so he can take them off, tossing them away thoughtlessly. Felicity's glad he did when he finally gets her shirt open, clearly so desperate to feel her by then that she's surprised he didn't rip it. She moans as his hand move under the fabric, grasping her so hard that she's pretty sure there will be bruises. She doesn't mind, though, because she's already obsessed with the way his rough hands feel against her skin and she wants a reminder of it marked into her. But his hands aren't enough. So she slides her hands around to the front of his pants and undoes that stupid belt.
He stops moving a second when she wraps her hand around him, resting his forehead against hers, but then she pulls him sharply and he grunts and lifts her up so her legs are wrapped around his waist. Felicity pulls her skirt up while Oliver pushes his pants down and then he moves her panties out of the way and thrusts into her and they both gasp. He buries his face against her neck and braces himself against the concrete pillar and she wraps her arms around his shoulders and just hangs on.
It's not like it was the other night in her apartment. That was celebratory. This is almost desperate, like they're trying to obliterate any memory of how awful it was to live without each other. In fact, this is what she always imagined sex with Oliver would be like: rough and a little relentless, but also incredible. Like it would have been if he'd come into her bedroom instead of running.
"I wish you had climbed through my window that night," she pants and he looks up at her, eyes clouded with lust.
"Me too," he says and then plunges his hands into her hair, roughly pulling her mouth down onto his. She's even more breathless than before as he pulls back and his thrusts grow harder, which she didn't think was possible but is so happy to discover is. "I kept hoping you'd come here the next day," he breathes onto the skin of her neck between kisses she knows will leave marks.
"I did," Felicity admits and she regrets it immediately because Oliver's movements stop and he looks up at her, surprised but also so tender that she can barely stand it. "I made it all the way to the door," she explains, "but I knew if I came back here I'd never leave again."
"Don't ever leave again," he begs, his voice breaking as he leans against her.
"I won't, won't," she promises and kisses him for all she's worth because she might really cry if he keeps looking so sad and frightened. She swivels her hips because she wants him, needs him, to move and he must understand because he resumes his pace and it's not long before they're both calling out in pleasure. The sound echoes around them , grounding them, reminding them that whatever happened before is over, that they don't have to miss each other anymore.
They eventually make it back to her place. Oliver looks less haunted by then and when he takes Felicity into the bedroom, he sets her down softly on top of the sheets. He takes his time, undressing her slowly and gently kissing the places he bruised or marked earlier. It feels like adoration and Felicity is pretty sure they're in love with each other. She doesn't say anything though because, really, this night has been complicated enough. Instead, she savors the fact that they have each other at all and clings to the hope that they never have to experience losing each other again.
Thanks for reading and I'd love you forever if you left a review. Next chapter will hopefully be fluffier and up faster. But it's really up to one Thea Queen.