Chapter 7

When Felicity left Verdant that evening, Oliver took to punishing his training equipment with a particularly vicious fervor. He had wanted to talk to Felicity properly but she ran out on him so quickly after the training session. He thought that training her might be a good way to break the ice again. He knew she was still angry with him for leaving. Though he guessed she would forgive him eventually or she wouldn't have went to all the effort of getting The Hood new equipment and a new and improved lair.

Oliver took a long shower, hoping to put all his thoughts together. He was still exhausted, but didn't think his body would allow him to sleep yet. He checked the time and as it was only 10pm, he impulsively took a chance and texted Felicity. "Are you home? Can I call around for a few minutes?"

Immediately after sending it, he felt guilty. Felicity had made it clear earlier that she had uneasy during their training session and that she wasn't in the mood for a heart-to-heart with Oliver. He figured this was because he didn't deserve her comfort and listening ear right now, after he deserted them. He was surprised when immediately got a text back. "Ok. But you better bring nice wine."

Oliver had to bite his finger to stop himself laughing out loud. She wasn't that different from her former self after all.

Oliver quickly cleaned himself up, put on a pair of jeans and a clean shirt and headed out to his car. On his way to her apartment, he stopped at an overpriced restaurant to ask them for their most expensive bottle of red because he didn't trust a liquor store to have anything nice enough to bring over.

When he exited the elevator on her floor, a young couple were entering it. They both eyed him knowingly and then he saw them whisper to each other as the doors closed. It used to amuse him when people recognized him but with the Queen name having been dragged through the dirt, it wasn't quite as amusing as it used to be.

As he approached Felicity's door, he recalled the last time he called on her.

It was the night of Tommy's funeral. He had starting drinking early. Things had gone from bad to worse when he scuffled with a photographer trying to take a picture of the graveside. Then he talked to Laurel and realized that the two of them could never been together. This stoked his appetite for alcohol even more and he moved from beer to harder liquor. Thea had told him he was drunk and they had an argument. He can't really remember what about. When he told Diggle that he didn't need either a bodyguard or a driver tonight, he sensed the worry in his friend's eyes. Oliver brushed off Diggle's offer to take him home and instead went to the sleaziest bar he could find. He loosened his black tie- his funeral tie he had called it and drank until he couldn't see the numbers on his phone. He managed to eventually flag down a cab willing to take him anywhere in this drunken state. He felt sick and told the cab driver to take him to the closest place he could think of- Felicity's apartment.

It had been ten days after the destruction of the Glades. He had left Felicity in the early hours of the morning after telling her he needed to do something, anything, as there was chaos all around the city. He knew he was a coward, but he couldn't face her since then.

Oliver stumbled toward her apartment door. It was well after midnight but he could see a light coming from under her door. He banged hard on the door. "Felicity." He sounded pleading, her name slurring off his tongue.

Felicity looked through her peep hole and saw a very unsteady looking Oliver Queen outside. Felicity ran her hand over her face as she knew this wasn't good to be good. She turned off her alarm and undid the bolts on the door. "Get in here Oliver before you wake the neighbors."

"Thank you Felic…Felicity," he hiccupped. "I was just in the neighborhood."

"Really?" Felicity asked disbelievingly. "Where do you go in this neighborhood?"

"Plenty of places my dear Felicity," he bumped into her side table and knocked a candle to the ground. Oliver's legendary reflexes were not quite at full capacity right now. "Sorry I'll buy you a new one. Have you got anything to drink?"

"Plenty of water." Felicity eyed Oliver quizzically. Here was the man she trusted enough that she kept his secret. The man she knew was an exceptional human, even when he was barking orders at her and snapping down the comm. Here was the man that always apologized to her later, in his own way, when he asked too much of her. This was the man that occupied a lot of her night-time fantasies. She tried to push all these things to the back of her mind as she saw this man now, barely able to stand on his own two feet.

"Water is no fun." Oliver noticed she was still in her black dress from the funeral earlier. "Why didn't you come talk to me earlier?"

"From everyone's point of view, I didn't know Tommy at all. I had no right to be chief mourner at his funeral."

"Well I would have liked you up there for me."

"You have Thea. And Laurel."

"Ah you stand corrected," he pointed a wobbly finger. "I told Laurel today that I could never be with her. Or she told me. I don't really remember who told whom…" he hiccupped again, "…but we're not together."

"Oh. I'm sorry Oliver." Felicity genuinely was. If Oliver had somebody who could make him happy, she would have been glad for him.

Oliver took a step closer to Felicity. "Are you? Sorry, I mean."

Felicity's eyes narrowed towards him. "Of course I am."

Oliver took another step, almost pressing Felicity into her front door. "Is there a part of you that maybe isn't sorry?"

Felicity could smell the liquor off his breath. He was inches from her face. Oliver moved a hand up Felicity's shoulder and neck, up to her face. "There isn't a part of you that would prefer me not to be with Laurel?"

Oliver leaned in close and with his free hand pulled Felicity by the waist closer to him. He waited for a few seconds for an answer and when none was forthcoming, he pressed his lips to her ear. "You wouldn't maybe prefer if I was with somebody else?"

Felicity closed her eyes briefly, trying to compose herself. "You're so beautiful," he whispered. She took a deep breath in but when she opened her eyes, she saw Oliver move towards her again. He caught her lips in his. His kiss was hurried and almost sloppy in his drunken state, but not at all unpleasant. Felicity couldn't think too straight right now. She allowed Oliver's lips to move over hers and allowed him to part her lips with his tongue. He pushed his full weight against her now, pinning her to the door. She felt his hand moving its way from her waist to her hips and kneading the flesh in her upper thigh. Her heart rate accelerated and she enjoyed the feel of his hands on her body. As if an alarm went off in her head, Felicity snapped out of it.

"Stop Oliver." Oliver's mouth moved to her neck and the exposed skin of her upper chest. "Please Oliver stop." Felicity gave him a gentle push and he bounced away from her like she had given him an electric shock.

She stood panting against the door, Oliver leaning against her couch. His head hung shamefully. When he spoke, he sounded so defeated. "I thought maybe you wanted this. I wanted to be with you tonight."

Felicity couldn't help but feel sorry for his childlike demeanor right now. "If you want to be with me, I'm afraid you'll have to tell me when you're sober. Otherwise I don't think I can believe you." Felicity paused. She might want this but only if he did. She wouldn't be a drunken regret. "C'mon. I'm getting some coffee for you." She took him by the hand and led him into her small kitchen.

"I think I might be sick." Completely unfazed, Felicity took a basin from beneath her sink and popped it on his knee. "Why are you so nice to me Felicity?" Felicity noticed for the first time that night how red and blotchy his eyes were, as if he may have been crying.

"I'm nice to you because you're courageous and you want to help other people, even when it puts your own life at risk."

"Thank you."

"Now try sipping this coffee and if you need to be sick, aim for the basin."

Felicity tucked Oliver under a blanket on her couch that night. She placed a soft kiss on top of his head, his sleeping form unrecognizable as The Hood. The next morning when she woke, he was gone. He left a note just saying: "Sorry. And thank you."