Too quickly Oliver had wedged himself into the incredibly small laundry room in the back of Felicity's kitchen. This was the second time that Oliver had found himself in the broom closet-sized space which smelled like the lavender detergent that Felicity used. The first time that he was in this space Diggle had stopped by with some homemade soup from a concerned Lyla for a flu-ridden Felicity. Oliver himself had been in the process of trying to heat up the generic Campbell's chicken noodle and was overly grateful to overhear Digg's conversation, but the cramped space was less pleasant.

Oliver was almost as displeased as he had been then as he was now being in the small space, however he was more upset over the latest visitor. Barry Allen was in Felicity's home, meaning that he knew where it was and had likely been there before. Just the idea of that angered Oliver, although his anger was irrational. He knew he had no justifiable reason to be upset that Barry had previously been to Felicity's house, if he was allowed to be upset over that then Felicity had a hell of a lot to be upset about. It was just the idea of competition that bothered Oliver, and in any other situation, Oliver was sure that he could beat Barry Allen easily, but in the eyes of Felicity, Oliver was very insecure.

When the Allen kid had first arrived Oliver had felt mixed emotions towards him, but his feelings were established the first time he saw Allen invade his space by placing his hand on Felicity's lower back. Felicity's lower back was his territory, had been his territory. It was where he placed his hand because it didn't show too much, it was platonic but not platonic at the same time.

"Barry, how unexpected," Felicity giggled.

The groan that rose from Oliver's throat was barely stifled at the sound of her giggle, her flirty giggle. He knew that distinctive giggle better than anyone because for almost two years that was the giggle he always heard. Her giggles now were more seductive, less child-like. An internal groan was not suppressed when Oliver thought about how he was descriptively describing the differences between Felicity's giggles to himself.

He dismissed his actions in his head and strained his ears so that he could hear the now whispered conversations. For someone who needed to pretend as if she was the only person in the world, Felicity wasn't doing a great job by having Barry whisper. It was terribly inconvenient for Oliver too, their whispering, he could only hear bits and pieces of their conversation and it was driving him mad.

It was only eight or so minutes that Oliver was stuck hiding before Felicity bid her sweet Barry goodbye and closed the door. Heaving a sigh, Oliver ejected himself from the cramped position and made his way to the living room. Felicity was sitting on the arm of the couch and her eyes were staring off into space, her brain spinning at a million miles a minute.

"Uh," Oliver said hesitantly, "Felicity what was that about?"

Immediately Felicity snapped out of her odd and short stupor and resumed her playful attitude from before. She beamed up at Oliver before she allowed her beaming smile to transform into a smirk and she rushed into him. Oliver did not hesitate to open his arms to the girl coming at him, he seemed to read her mind enough to brace himself as well because she jumped, wrapped her legs around his waist, and clung to him like a monkey. Her lips found the corner of his jaw and Oliver hated how good it felt because he knew she was avoiding the questions that he was going to ask.

"Why was Barry here?"

"Why did you and Barry need to have a hushed conversation?"

"What did you and Barry talk about?"

"How many times had Barry been to your apartment before Felicity?"

"Why did you flirtatiously giggle in front of Barry?"

The last two questions were irrational, he could admit that, but the first three were good questions to ask and he needed those answers.

"Felicity," Oliver started. Felicity didn't give him the chance to finish however.

Her lips crashed over his and she didn't let him speak again. Felicity's hands were at the base of his hairline, rubbing quick circles on it and Oliver groaned into her mouth. He knew exactly what the girl was doing, she was a smart girl, and Oliver had no intention of stopping her just yet, he would get the questions out of her soon enough.

Felicity was giggling the seductive giggle as she straddled Oliver, he was still heaving, which is why she was laughing. He couldn't stop smiling at the blonde angel atop him, her ponytail was almost all the way pulled out and her headband had found its way off of her head, so strands of her hair were curling from the sweat and framing her face perfectly. His hands reached up and he cupped her face, she turned into his left hand and kissed his palm softly.

"That was a lovely distraction 'Licity," Oliver sighed as he pulled her back against his chest.

She giggled again and sighed before she spoke.

"You saw right through that, huh?"

Oliver nodded over top her head and she sighed again. Felicity was silent again for a long moment. He just held her in silence, feeling both of their chests rise together. It was contentment that Oliver was feeling, having Felicity laying on top of him, his arms wrapped around her; but the curiosity tugged at him and he couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Why did Barry visit?"

"He had something to tell me," she murmured.

"And what did he have to tell you?"

Felicity just shrugged in his arms and shook her head.

"He didn't say it," Felicity said.

"So he came from Central City to see you and tell you that he needed to tell you something, and then he didn't tell you?"

"No," Felicity pushed herself off of Oliver's chest and moved off of him completely and sat at the end of the couch, her legs resting beneath her. "Barry asked me if I was busy right now, which in all fairness I was, so I said I was about to hop in the shower." Oliver didn't need to think about Barry thinking about Felicity in the shower but he didn't say a single word. "He said he had something important to tell me and that if I could, he wanted to meet for lunch. So, since we have no plans for today I said sure and now I'm meeting him at the small cafe down the street in two hours."

Oliver sat up and he felt Felicity's eyes follow his every movement. He sighed and her eyes widened.

"What?" Oliver asked.

"So," Felicity hesitated, "can I go?"

Oliver couldn't contain his laughter then, he just couldn't control himself then. He was laughing while Felicity stared at him, wide-eyed.

All mighty, hear-me-roar when she uses her loud voice, miss independent woman, Felicity Meghan Smoak was asking permission of Oliver Queen. This girl ran her entire life around Oliver's permission or approval half of the time, but now, now, she was asking for permission. He couldn't stop the laughter from rolling out of him.

"You're asking me," Oliver chuckled, "asking me for permission?"

Felicity's face hardened and she frowned. Her arms crossed over her chest and she looked none too pleased with Oliver Queen at the moment.

"Yes Mr. Queen," Felicity spoke sternly, "I was asking your permission because I know you're feelings towards Barry and I didn't want you to be upset, but since you find this all so hilarious then damn your permission, I'm going whether you want me to or not."

Quickly she stood to try to escape him and she narrowly got away. Watching Felicity be angry was like watching an angry kitten. Her face scrunched together and tried to look hateful, but just like a kitten, she couldn't achieve the full effect and he couldn't take her seriously 100%.

She had stormed off into her bedroom and Oliver could hear drawers and cabinet doors being slammed, as if she were a six year old. He chuckled to himself and just waited. The best part about their "fights" were their makeups, always.

He heard the shower water be turned on and he sighed.

"Are you coming Oliver," Felicity shouted from her bathroom.