AN: I just wanted to put this up, because I do love this part too. And from the title, it's obvious what happens. After this update, I'll probably put the next part up in a few days as I haven't written it yet. If you want to check out my personal ramblings and Olicity posts, you can find me on tumblr ( .com) - I take requests for Olicity shots to publish on weekends now ;) Anyhoo, enjoy!

Also, thank you to everyone who has reviewed/favourited/followed this. You guys have left me speechless. I love you all. xo

They avoided each other.

It had been three weeks. Three god forsaken weeks since Oliver had admitted to wanting more than friendship.

Felicity didn't know if she should squeal with glee or run for the mountains.

But she didn't have to make that decision. When she had returned to the Foundry the next morning, he hadn't been there. Or the day after that. Or the following week.

When she had asked Diggle, he had looked at her, eyebrow raised.

"He's been handling some stuff with the club. He tends to stick his head down here at nights."

It was all she needed to know he was avoiding her.

So she didn't seek him out. They corresponded through emails or texts when necessary, or Diggle. It was so professional; it was making her head spin. She couldn't stop thinking about him. There were times when her phone rang, and she'd run to it, half crazy with the notion that maybe this time round, it was Oliver calling.

It never was.

She missed him. She didn't realize just how much of a unit she had become with Oliver and Diggle, and she missed the dynamics of their team terribly. She missed Oliver leaning over her shoulder while she looked up something, she missed Diggle making jokes about Oliver's lack of humour, and she missed knowing he was there, somewhere, anywhere, but just there.

She drew herself out of her thoughts, scolding herself mentally for clocking out at work. Deciding that coffee was necessary, she stood up, smoothing down her pencil skirt as she moved towards the sleek coffee maker in the IT office. She'd badgered the department to buy a new one months ago, fully equipped and top of the brand. Some of her co-workers were still thanking her.

She looked up, and her hands stilled.

There was Oliver, walking with his mother, his eyes focused on Moira Queen as she seemed to be discussing something with him.

Her heart ached for him, so suddenly and so viciously, that she felt her knees weaken. Gripping the edge of the counter, she tried to steady herself. She kept her head low, waiting for the machine to signal that her coffee was ready.

She nearly blanched when she heard Moira Queen's voice.

"I just need to speak with one of the IT engineers, and then we can head back up to my office. Oh, Felicity. Oliver, this is Felicity Smoak - the best of the best, as Walter used to say," Moira, unbeknown of what she had just caused, pulled Oliver closer to the wide-eyed blonde. The woman in charge was kind to the blonde, knowing that Walter favoured her for her skills.

But she had no idea that her son favoured the blonde in every kind of way.

They stared at each other, not knowing what to do. Moira had no idea that her son was in fact very familiar with the woman in question, but they weren't in a position to reveal that to her.

So Oliver put his hand forward, plastering a polite smile on his face.

"Lovely to meet you, Miss. Smoak," he said, and she reached forward too, placing her small hand into his rough, big ones.

It was stupid to deny the attraction. It was stupid to second guess it. In that moment, she realized just how much she had missed his touch. Something settled in them both, something that had been restless for the three long weeks they had endured.

"Likewise, Mr. Queen."

"It's Oliver. My father was Mr. Queen," he said, and déjà vu hit her. His eyes bored into hers as he saw the recognition on her face. Of course he'd remind her of the first time they had met. No one would ever say Oliver Queen played fair.

When Felicity let go of his hand and politely excused herself, she moved over to her desk, not looking back at him.

Oliver stepped into the Foundry late that night, tired from the day he had endured. He stripped out his suit blazer, haphazardly throwing it towards the desk as he moved over to the sofa. It had been a long time since he had pulled his weight concerning his family, but even then, he couldn't escape from his thoughts. He had spent time with Thea, letting her question him, trying to distract her from her mission in discovering the Hood's real identity. Though his sister was nowhere near figuring it out.

"Erm… Hi."

He spun around, one hand at the top button of his shirt as he looked at Felicity, standing by the corner of the desk that she normally sat at, hands twisted together in front of her as she watched him with nervous eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he didn't mean for it to sound so harsh, and nearly winced at the sound of his own tone. But she didn't react. Instead, she moved forward.

"We need to talk. We've been avoiding this for three weeks, and I think it's time we started acting like adults – not that we're not already, but this feels like one of those kindergarten situations when your best friend stops talking to you because you didn't want to go into the sand pit with them –"

"Felicity, breathe."

She broke off her rambling, and closed her eyes. Nodding, she took another bold step towards him.

"That's off topic, I know. But we can deal with this like the grown-ups we are. We don't need to be avoiding each other – it's completely unnecessary. You don't have to avoid the Foundry; I don't need to watch the clock all the time hoping you'd walk in. I mean, hoping you wouldn't," she rushed to correct herself, the heat rising in her cheeks.

Oliver smiled softly, watching her. She was so beautiful. He had missed seeing her blush.

He had missed everything about her.

"I've missed you."

Felicity stopped pacing, her eyes meeting his as she stood still. The words hung in the air between them, and she could see it in his eyes. Swallowing, she tried to find her voice again, but it wasn't happening. He decided enough was enough. She had come to him, so he would make the next move.

"I've missed your smile, your babbling, and the way your curls spill down your shoulders. I've missed seeing you behind that computer screen, and the way you curl up against me while watching Supernatural. I've missed a lot of things, Felicity," Oliver said quietly, taking small, measured steps towards her. She was speechless, for once.

He moved closer, until he was right in front of her. She didn't move, didn't step back – and he was glad. He was done fighting what was in him, and he was done letting her slip away.

"I've missed you scolding me, your sarcastic comments, and the way that wonderful mind of yours works," he said, lifting a hand to her hair, and letting his fingers brush through it, mussing the ponytail up. Hooking his finger into the band, he gently eased it out, letting her thick curls loose.

"I've missed seeing your hair messy, after you work like crazy for hours. I've missed you muttering under your breath. I've missed your coffees. I've even missed the way your eyes would follow me when my shirt came off," he teased, and that drew her out of the deep, seductive trance he had her under.

"Hey! I don't creep on you."

He chuckled, before wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

It felt magnificent. Her breath hitched as her eyes grew wide, the playful mood gone as she realized that the intent in his eyes were clear. Her hand rested against his shoulder as he leaned forward.

"I've missed looking at you, and your pretty pink lips," he whispered, and she felt her knees go weak. His eyes were watching her lips as she tried to control her erratic breathing, but then he leaned forward again, closing the inch until their breaths mingled, until their noses touched.

Her eyes closed as he laid his lips on hers.

It was soft. Gentle. Perfect. The hand that rested on his shoulder curled up behind his neck as he let his hand slide down her waist and settle against her hip. She was wonderfully soft, fitting against the hard panels of him effortlessly. She sighed, melting into him. Never would she have ever thought she'd be kissing Oliver Queen. The man that had captured her heart so quickly, she didn't have a choice but to fall head first. He kissed her deeper, their tongues mating as he twisted his hand in her hair.

She bit his lower lip, and his control snapped.

The hand resting on her hip cupped her bottom, lifting her up. She gasped, instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist. Core to core, a bolt of forbidden desire ran through them.

He groaned, and moved towards the desk, their mouths warring with each other. Gone was the soft, slow kiss - the heat within them burning up, tipping them over the edge.

He set her down, his hands suddenly everywhere. Teeth nipped, lips fought, breaths fastened. She grabbed onto his hair as he rubbed his sex against hers, trying hard not to pass out from the pleasure of it. He broke the kiss and moved his lips to her neck; laying open mouthed kisses until he found her erratic pulse and bit down.

Her body went crazy for him.

His hands wandered down to her thighs, pushing up her pencil skirt as he kissed her neck. He wanted to touch her, drive her crazy. It wasn't enough – skin to skin would only satisfy him.

"Oliver?"

They broke apart, Felicity's eyes growing wide as she realized Diggle was back at the Foundry. Oliver reluctantly let her go as she pushed herself off the desk, smoothing her skirt down as she looked around for her hair band.

"Are you watching Supernatural again? 'Cause you need to stop this man – oh, Felicity," Diggle's eyebrows flew up as he saw that the blonde was also in the Foundry.

His lips curled as he realized they both looked guilty.

"I'm interrupting something, aren't I?" he asked smugly, and Felicity, turning absolutely red, mumbled something about the bathroom and bolted for it.

"Well, well, well. Isn't this cosy?"

"Shut up, Diggle."