Chapter Seven
As soon as Bruce and Isabel left the lobby Felicity disengaged from Oliver and headed to the conference room to gather her notes and her jacket. Oliver stormed in after her and locked the door behind him. "Okay, what the hell was all that?" He demanded.
She gave him a censuring look as she shrugged on her jacket. "People are going to hear you, can't this wait until we're upstairs?" What she didn't add was, 'so I can have time to gather my thoughts and make up something that sounds somewhat reasonable.'
"No," he said as he walked to the door that connected to the reception area and locked it as well. "I want an explanation and I want it right now."
Felicity propped one hip against the deep walnut conference table and hugged her waist with both arms, her long legs crossed at the ankles as she looked at him. It was the same stance she often took both at the office and in the Lair but, unbeknownst to her, in that dress with her hair flowing over her shoulders like molten sunshine and her big blue eyes free from the heavy frames she usually wore, she looked like the beginning of every fantasy he'd ever had. "What exactly do you want me to explain?"
"Oh, I have a whole list in mind," Oliver said in a growl normally reserved for green leather as he advanced on her, stopping only when he was just a few inches away. "One: Why didn't you tell me Lucius Fox was your father? Two: What the hell is with you and Bruce Wayne? Three: What have you got cooked up with Isabel? Four—"
"Wait," she said holding up her hand in a 'stop' gesture, "there is nothing getting 'cooked up' between me and that woman-!"
"Four," he growled, inching forward until she could feel his breath on her face, "Why are you so desperate to avoid Wayne that you felt the need to confirm every nasty insinuation Isabel has ever made about us by practically groping me out there, and why the hell did you wear that dress if you didn't want him to notice you? And five: What the hell else about yourself haven't you told me?"
Felicity's cheeks turned as red as her dress, "Are you done?"
"Not even close!" He bit out, "But you can start by answering those questions first."
Felicity jammed her finger into his rock hard chest as hard as she could. It probably hurt her finger more than it hurt him but it made her feel better damn it! "Well, in that case, I can answer all of your questions right now: I never told you because it's none of your goddamned business!"
"Not my business?" He asked, taken aback. "This," he tapped his finger against the table, "this is my business! And as long as you are involved in the parts of my life that you are involved in when we aren't here, everything about you is my business!"
"Since when?" She demanded, the rising volume of her voice matching his own.
"Since day one! Since the first day I let you in!"
"You let me in?" She snorted. "I saved your life, you didn't let me in!"
"Bullshit!" He shot back. "We're a team, Felicity—a team! In order to trust you I have to know who you are! You know everything about my life, Diggle's life! Why don't we know anything about yours? After all, this isn't the first time we've had to deal with sudden revelations when it comes to you, is it?"
Her face froze, "I told you six months ago that I didn't know anything about that."
"And at the time I believed you; now, I'm not so sure," he said with a cruel edge.
Felicity flinched as she moved away from him, her face suffused with a mixture of anger, humiliation, and pain, "I didn't and you know that! Believe it or not, I don't care; my life is none of your goddamn business either way! It's not like you haven't sprung a few surprises on us over the years; Sara, Helena, your mother and her whole closet full of skeletons! I didn't know because I never wanted to! It didn't matter to me, okay? It's not like you're the poster child for resolving personal issues, is it? The only reason we know as much about you as we do is because it's your mission to begin with and, whenever anything comes up related to the island, we have to practically drag it out of you or wait until it blows up in our faces. You know about Diggle's life because you asked him. Not once—not once—have you ever expressed any interest in me as a person. You've never asked me any personal questions or even had a conversation with me that wasn't related to the job at hand. I'm just a tool to you so don't you dare stand there and act as though I've somehow betrayed you when you've screwed me over too many times to count and yet I'm still here fighting your goddamn battles!"
"When have I ever screwed you over?" He raged, "And don't you dare throw the executive assistant thing back in my face! I'm sick and tired of hearing it! If working upstairs beside me is such a fucking chore then just quit, damn it!"
"Fine! I quit!" Felicity spat out, her eyes filling with hot tears as she stomped toward the locked door. "Keep your job, keep your mission, as far as I'm concerned you can just shove it all up your-!"
In less than two strides he was gripping her arm, spinning her around and before she even had time to speak he was kissing her. His arms wrapped around her as he pushed her into the wall so hard the breath was forced from her lungs.
One hand slid from her back up into her hair where he pulled her neck back so he could better control the angle while the other slid downward until he was squeezing her behind through the tighter than tight dress.
And then Felicity was kissing him back, her hands wrapped around his shoulders even as the tears continued to course down her cheeks. He could taste them on his lips and his kisses grew softer though no less probing or intense. He pulled her higher onto his chest, lifting her feet off the ground, and walked her to the table where he sat her on the edge while moving between her thighs. As her legs fell open the hem began to ride up and he helped it along by rubbing his hands along her stocking covered thighs until her sheer nude panties and garter belt were visible.
He glanced down and his breath began to stutter. She knew there were reasons that they shouldn't be doing this but fuck if she could think of any at the moment.
He pushed her jacket from her shoulders until it fell off her arms and onto the tabletop. There was a long zip at the back of the dress so he eased it down…down… down… pulling her long sleeves down her arms until her dress was bunched around her waist like a belt then released her mouth so that he could look at her unclothed state. Her pale pink nipples were clearly visible through the sheer fabric of lingerie that looked less like a bra and more like the beginnings of one finished off by something that was created either by God or the Devil. The look on his face told her that whoever it was who invented this brilliant piece of erotic architecture, someday she was going to shake their hand and say thank you.
"God, you are so…" he breathed before capturing her lips again and quickly removing his jacket as he toed off his shoes.
He had undone his belt, tie, and most of his shirt before Felicity's brain began to come back online. At first it was just a buzzing in her head and then she began to hear the words her mind had been trying to tell her: You have been in almost this exact same position before and it did not end well, remember? "Wait, wait, wait!" She said as she used the last bit of her willpower to push him away from her and jump down off the desk, luckily without twisting her ankle in the very high heels that she had decided would probably spend the rest of their lives in the back of her closet about ten minutes after she had put them on.
Figures he'd leave the shoes, she thought fuzzily as she hauled up her top then pulled down her hemline. What is it with men and shoes?
"What's wrong?" He asked dumbly as he stood watching her, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath.
Felicity pushed her hair out of her eyes and turned to look at him…which was a mistake. Woof, she thought as her eyes inadvertently traced the line of him through his mostly undone trousers. Apparently a fondness for leaping from rooftops and hunting down evildoers wasn't the only thing he and Bruce had in common. "Uh…oh wow, you are really, really…wow."
He stepped forward and cupped her cheek in his hand then pulled her in for another deep kiss. He ran his hand down her bare back and eased her closer until she could feel him hard against her stomach. Her brain went fuzzy again. She was just doing something, what was it again? Something about…? Oh fuck, that feels nice. He cupped her breast in his palm through her dress as the other slipped inside the still unzipped back to caress her bare skin. He began kissing a line down her neck as his thumb stroked the hard peak. When he got to the junction between her neck and shoulder he licked her and she made a noise that was something between a moan and a chirp. She would have been embarrassed but then he chuckled and started to nip and suck his way back up until he was sucking and nibbling on her earlobe, his teeth clicking against her earring, and she was just gone.
"Oh God," She clutched him to her and pulled his mouth from her body and back to her lips. Her hand slipped inside of his open shirt and her fingers began to touch the angles and planes of him. His lips left hers after a deep, probing kiss to caress her throat.
"That feels…oh, that feels really good. That's…that's nice. Oh please do that…uh huh. You're very good at this. Excellent. Gold stars all around," she began to mumble as his mouth found her earlobe again and he chuckled low and sexy between nibbles and sucks. "Yeah, yeah. Oooh yeah. This is okay, this is good. We can keep doing this. It's fine."
He picked her up and placed her back on the table. He kissed her, gently working down the front of her dress so he could expose her bra then paid homage to the hardened peaks of her breasts through the sheer material. As his teeth nipped at her, she gasped, her fingers sinking into his hair as she clutched at him. One of her bra straps fell off her shoulder and he helped it on its way, exposing one of her breasts fully to his gaze before cupping it in his hand then kissing her again, his tongue exploring her mouth as his thumb teased her until her head began to swim. His other hand left her bottom to slide up her silk covered thighs, nimbly unsnapping her garters. His hand left her breast to join its mate, sliding over her thighs and tugging her toward him.
"I want you," he whispered against her ear as one hand slipped between their bodies to find the junction of her thighs. His fingers rubbed at her through the thin lace and she gasped. "You want me too," he said. "You're wet for me, I can feel you," he breathed against her lips as he began to tug them down.
"Oooh…wait. Wait…okay. Okay." She pulled away, a bit more reluctantly this time, leaving her hands on Oliver's chest to help them maintain distance. "This—this—this," she stuttered and took a deep breath. "This is a bad idea. We can't do this, not here." She got up off the table, a bit more carefully this time, her hands attempting to keep him at a safe distance.
She managed that for about two whole steps until he pushed her hands away and moved in until he was kissing her again. "Like I said, I want you," he told her, his eyes dark with lust. "I don't care where we do this as long as I get to be inside of you as soon as possible." Her breath caught in her lungs as he pressed her close so she could feel just how serious he was. He licked her lips before going in for another teasing kiss. "My place is too far away, your place maybe? Or I can call ahead and get us a room somewhere close? We can be in a bed in less than five minutes if we leave now." He whispered against her ear before tugging her earlobe in his mouth and making her knees wobble causing her to have to grip his arm or risk falling over. "Or we can just stay right where we are and satisfy a fantasy of mine where I've got you bent over the desk and calling out my name."
She squeaked and shuddered as his tongue made a rasping sound against her ear, his warm breath tickling her, and suddenly a bed sounded like a really, really good idea. Then again, so did the desk thing. Basically it all sounded good right about then.
"I want to watch you fall apart underneath me," he whispered in her ear. "I want to know how you taste."
A really, really- "Bad," Felicity said letting go and taking a few steps back this time as a precaution. "You said this was a bad idea, that we could never do this."
"When did I say that?" Oliver asked with a frown as he took a step towards her. "I never said that. We've never discussed anything about something happening between us, but maybe we should have because you are just so..." He looked up and down like he was a starving man and she was a ten-course feast sent from the gods. "Remarkable doesn't even begin to cover it," He added with a sexy smile as he reached for her again.
"No," she frowned, avoiding his hands as he tried to pull her to him again. "You told me-ooh wait." Realization dawned and it hit her in the face like a brick wall. "You weren't talking about me, were you?" She laughed mirthlessly, a hitch in her voice as the tears began to flow once more. "I see."
"Felicity?" He frowned as he took another step towards her, "What-?"
She pointed at him, her whole body trembling with emotion as she tried to control her breathing. "You said you couldn't ever be with someone you cared about or ever could care about but that doesn't apply to me, does it? I thought you were trying to tell me that you could see something happening between us and you were trying to—to-"
"Shit," Oliver breathed as he ran his hand over his face. "Listen, that's not what I meant-!"
"Wasn't it?" Felicity sniffed as she tugged on her jacket.
He followed her around the room as she began to collect her things. "Look, when we were in Russia and I told you that I wasn't thinking of this—I mean, I wasn't thinking of you; not directly-crap!" He scrubbed his hands through his hair, "I meant that I wasn't talking about us, I was talking about how it is with Laurel and me! You just misunderstood. I mean, I knew you had a crush on me but I didn't think it would ever get to this point because I always thought of you as just a…um, well, a friend before and thinking of you in a sexual way was just wrong on so many levels and I…" he froze and a strange part of her brain watched in amusement as dawning horror spread over his features. She now knew what it looked like for everyone else when, no matter what she did, the wrong things just kept pouring out of her mouth. It was like he was possessed or something. "I swear to God that was not what I had intended to say."
She turned abruptly on her heel and began moving towards the door.
"No—no—no—Felicity, don't, just give me a second, okay? Felicity, just let me get my thoughts together and we'll—I'll—wait!"
Ignoring him, she walked across the reception area where the caterers were cleaning up the remains of the spread from the meeting. The women stopped and stared at her in low whispers as she made her way to the ladies room and closed the door.
Oliver followed her, in long strides across the floor, his clothing still partially undone and disheveled. The whispers among the catering staff turned to giggles as they huddled together and watched him as he walked right into the ladies room and locked the door behind him.
As soon as he turned the deadbolt and stepped into the room he ran headlong into an older Mexican woman in a QC maintenance uniform who was wagging her finger at him and speaking in rapid fire Spanish.
"No puede estar en aquí!" She told him angrily. "Usted es un hombre malo! Voy a llamar a la seguridad en usted si usted no deja! Este es el baño de las mujeres! Pervert!"
"I'm sorry! ¡Lo siento! Yo sé que no debería estar aquí, sólo necesito hablar con mi amigo por un momento, por favor!" She let fly with even more rapid fire curses at him for violating the sanctity of the ladies so he carefully eased her cart toward the door and ducked his head to avoid her hands which were flapping a little too close for comfort. "Yo no soy un pervertido, señora, lo prometo! Sé que este es el baño de las mujeres, pero sólo voy a ser un momento. Lo siento mucho, señora! Un minuto! Yo sólo necesito uno minuto! ¡Gracias!" He said unlocking the door again and practically shoving the woman and her cleaning cart outside, before turning the lock again. He stepped into the room carefully and called out to Felicity. "Can we just talk, please? Before the cleaning lady calls security and I have to explain to the press why I was caught skulking around in a woman's bathroom?"
"Go away!" She said from one of the stalls.
He approached, hearing her muffled sobs. "Open the door, Felicity. Please?"
He heard her blow her nose then the flushing of the toilet. The door opened and she shoved past him straight to the sinks without looking at him. As she turned on the faucets to wash her hands he stood behind her and tried to place his hands on her shoulders but she shrugged him off. "Felicity please, give me a chance to explain."
Felicity got a paper towel and ran it under the water so she could wipe off the mascara that had ran and smeared on her cheeks. "There's nothing to explain Oliver; I'm done. Now go away."
"I'm not going anywhere," he said stubbornly. "You and I are going to fix this."
She glanced at him as she finger combed her hair into some semblance of order. "Why, Oliver? Why do we need to fix anything?"
"Because before all this happened we were friends," he said quietly. "I've lost too many friends to lose another now, especially just because of some stupid misunderstanding that happened because I put my foot in my mouth."
She straightened her dress until she looked put together enough to risk going back to the office for her purse and briefcase then turned to him, suddenly feeling much calmer. "You know something I've learned after being a nervous babbler all my life? Sometimes when someone sticks their foot in their mouth it isn't because they accidently told a lie, it's because they accidently told the truth. Goodbye Oliver." She tried to push past him but he put his hands on her arms to hold her firmly in place.
He sighed and looked down at her, his eyes awash in misery. "Where are you going?"
"Upstairs, so I can get my things and type up a resignation letter."
"Fine," he said as he released her. "You want to go upstairs then we'll go upstairs."
She walked past him and he took a second to shove his tie in his pocket, refasten his trousers, and button his shirt before following her across the main lobby to the elevators. He took his time because he knew she wasn't going anywhere without him. The elevator to the executive floor required a keycard to access it and Felicity had left her purse and ID card upstairs.
They rode up to the top floor in silence, maintaining their distance, until entering his office. Immediately she sat down to her computer and began typing while he leaned heavily against the door and watched. She hit the print button and began gathering her things, shoving her personal tablet and other items into her briefcase and taking her purse from the bottom drawer. She then snatched the page she had printed from the printer, got up from her desk, and handed it to him as she shrugged the strap to her case higher onto her shoulder.
He kept his arms crossed over his chest, not making a move to take it from her. "You don't have to do this."
"Just take the letter, Oliver," she told him.
"No."
"Fine." She sat it on her desk and made a move to the door. "I already emailed a copy to HR anyway." He didn't move, his large frame blocking the exit. "Get out of the way."
"No."
She closed her eyes in frustration, "I'm not doing this with you so just let me go."
"You're not going anywhere," he said as he straightened and took a step towards her. "Not until we talk about this."
"It won't change what happened." She said firmly. "I'm done and I want to leave."
"I didn't mean what I said," he told her with a pained expression. "I know you didn't know about him and about what happened on the island—"
She opened her mouth to speak and a pained sob escaped from between her lips instead.
He took a step forward to reach for her but she flinched back and his hands hung in the air as he shook his head, his mouth tightening into a pained grimace, "God, Felicity; I swear I didn't mean it. I know you didn't know and I've never held that against you, I promise. I don't even know why I said it. I-"
"It doesn't matter," she said quickly, refusing to look him in the eye. "I just want to go home."
"I can take you home," he told her.
"No."
"If you're worried that I'll try something, I won't. I'll just take you straight home, I won't even touch you." He dropped his gaze and shifted his feet, "Look, what happened downstairs…if I took advantage of the situation, I'm sorry." He licked his lips and lifted his eyes which were flooded with pain. "I'm so sorry, Felicity. I don't know what came over me. My only excuse is that—no, there is no excuse, but I can promise you it will never happen again. None of it; it's done and we never even have to talk about it ever again."
Hot tears began to sting her eyes and before she could help it they were streaming down her cheeks. "Goddamn it!" Felicity said in frustration as she wiped the moisture off her cheeks with her hand angrily.
"I'm sorry," Oliver said as he took another step towards her, his hand outstretched as though to pull her closer to him but she backed away. "Felicity, I didn't mean to upset you—"
"I'm not upset, you jackass! I'm pissed off!" She growled at him. "You get pissed off and you punch things, I get pissed off and I cry which really sucks because more than anything else right now I really, really just want to beat the crap out of something!"
Oliver backed up a step and put his hands to his sides and away from his body in a gesture of supplication. "You have every right to be angry and I get that, but you have to give me a chance to make this right. We've been friends for too long to—"
"But we're not friends," she broke in. "You said so yourself: You know nothing about me. Friends trust each other and you don't trust me, Oliver. And frankly…" she looked at him, her face a mask of disappointment. "I don't think I can trust you, not anymore, because while you, and the mission, and Diggle are all important to me…I just…I don't think I was ever that important, not to you. Not as a friend. Not as anything."
"Now that is just not true and you know it!"
"Really?" She asked with a watery smile. "Then answer me this: If I hadn't stopped you and we…if we…finished-what would have happened after? What would we have been to each other tomorrow when it was out of your system and we were staring at each other over room service? What then? Would it have been a one-time thing? Over and done in a weekend and business as usual on Monday? Would you have waited a couple of days to send me some flowers and a balloon that said 'Let's Just Be Pals' for me to stick on my desk? What?"
"I don't know!" He broke out. "How the hell am I supposed to answer that? I didn't plan it, I didn't expect this! How am I supposed to know what would have happened next when, frankly, I don't even know what's happening right now?! Goddamn it!" He growled deep in his throat, his eyes reminding her of a cornered animal as he ran two hands through his hair then scrubbed at his ever present stubble roughly. He pointed an accusing finger at her, "You—you confuse the shit out of me, you know that? You've got me so turned around in my head that I—" His mouth clamped shut and he just stood there as he struggled to come up with the right words. "No one knows me, Felicity. No one knows me. You're supposed to be one of the few people that do but right now—" his voice dropped to a near whisper, "I never thought of you that way, not because you aren't…" he sighed. "This is what I meant in Russia. I may not have been thinking of you, but this is what I meant. I can't have you working here and in the Foundry and have this kind of relationship with you as well. I can't. I'm sorry."
Felicity nodded, her face clearing as she straightened her spine and took a deep breath. "That's fine, and you're right: Neither of us saw this coming and I can accept what you're saying but…what happened, happened and-I've already done this, Oliver." Her voice was husky from the yelling and the crying, but also strong and determined. "My reaction to it isn't about you as much as it's about me. I will never again be the girl who waits for someone else to decide whether or not she is worthy of their time or attention ever again. You wanted to know who I really am and this is me telling you now: I am not that girl, Oliver." She said emphatically. "I would rather spend the rest of my life alone then give anyone the opportunity to make me that girl ever again."
"When did I-? What are you talking about?" He asked, obviously confused.
She gave him a pitying look even as she realized that her words weren't as much for his benefit as they were for her own. "I'm saying I'm someone who needs to learn to stop living her life around someone else's schedule. I need to stop falling for the hero when the hero never falls for me and I won't be a piece of office furniture that gets moved into the bedroom when you're between women."
"What women?" He asked in anger and exasperation.
"Sara for one," she told him. "She's my friend, Oliver! You put me in a really shitty position, do you realize that? Now I either have to lie to her and pretend nothing happened or I have to confess to someone I care about that I—" She felt herself choke up and he started toward her again but she held out her hand accusingly. "Do you even realize how sick and dirty I feel right now? I told you once that I didn't have many friends, Oliver! You guys are it: You, Dig, Roy, and Sara—that's it for me! That's all I have! And now I might lose one of my friends, I hurt my friend, because you decided this was okay!"
"No one is getting hurt by what happened!" Oliver said stubbornly. "Sara and I aren't together—"
She shook her head, not even wanting to hear it, "You two have something, I know you do. Don't you think she might be hurt if she knew what just happened between us?"
"Sara…" His mouth tightened into a grim line and his voice dropped a few octaves, "Sara and I aren't like that. Not anymore."
"Bullshit!" Felicity snorted. "You and I both know that you had sex with her fairly recently and I'm not some cheap lay you can release your tensions on until your girlfriend blows back into town. Not that kind of girl, sorry. I don't play musical beds, Oliver."
"I never said you were and I would never try to make you into that!"
"I can't do this—" she began.
"Felicity," he came closer to her and glanced down at her hands but didn't try to take them in his own. "My relationship with Sara is complicated and whatever we have is less about commitment and monogamy and more about stress relief. Sara has her partners and she doesn't care what I do or who I do it with and vice versa. We tried to make it into more but there was just too much bad road between us. That said my relationship with her has nothing to do with what happened. I won't lie and tell you that I don't find you attractive or that what I felt downstairs wasn't real, but it was a mistake; one that won't ever be repeated, I swear. I know what kind of girl you are but I also know what kind of guy I am."
"I think…I think it's time for me to leave." As soon as the words left her mouth, Felicity knew they were the truest words she had probably ever spoken.
"Fine, yeah," Oliver heaved a sigh, stepping back. "Take the whole weekend, Diggle and I can handle it on our own."
"No, not just the weekend." Her eyes met his and she swallowed, a hollow feeling opened up inside her and the world seemed to swim in front of her. "I quit."
"What?" Oliver stared at her in shock. "Wha-why? I thought—I apologized! Felicity, you can't—"
"I quit," she repeated firmly, closing her eyes as she heard her own voice saying the words she never thought she'd ever hear herself say. "Both jobs."
He stared at her for a long moment before his expression grew dark. "Fine." He moved away from the door, his tone cold and seemingly indifferent as though all emotion had left him. "There's the door. Have a nice life."
At that moment, as if on cue, the door swung open and Diggle stepped through. Oblivious to what was happening he grinned as soon as his eyes lit on Felicity. "Damn girl, you look good! I like that dress." He clapped and rubbed his hands together, then looked from one to the other, "So what's the plan for tonight? Are you going to meet with the Wayne people later or are we going straight to the club?" He paused when no one answered, taking in the tense scene before him. "Okay, what did I miss?"
"Nothing," Felicity said bleakly as she stepped around them and walked through the door. "Bye John, I'll see you later."
His worried eyes followed her progress to the elevators before he turned to Oliver. "What's wrong with her? What happened?"
"She quit," Oliver said tersely as he headed into his office to grab his briefcase.
"What do you mean 'she quit'?" He asked following him, his tone darkening with anger. "You're not just going to let her leave like that, are you?"
"Yep, just like that," Oliver said as he switched off his monitor and swiftly walked past Diggle to the door.
"Oliver, you need to go after her! We need her!"
"Just drop it, Dig."
"You and I both know that ain't happening!"
"Dig!" Oliver growled in the voice he reserved when he was in the hood.
"Fine," Diggle bit out, shooting him a dirty look as he joined him in the elevator and slapped his hand on the button to take them to the parking level. "But we will be talking about this later. In detail."
Oliver didn't say anything. He just looked straight ahead, his mind in turmoil and jaw clenched. He needed to forget it and move on. He'd managed before she came into his life and he'd manage now that she was gone.
"We need her, Oliver!"
They'd be just fine.
