Chapter 9-More Questions Than Answers

He watched her sleep for a long time, taking in the bruise on her temple. Taking in the fact that she had killed someone to escape what Malcolm Merlyn had in store for her. He was equal parts proud of her and horrified, unable to decide which of those two emotions was stronger. Proud because she had outsmarted armed men, and horrified because she had taken a life—something that she would never needed to do if he hadn't brought her in to his world. But he could hear her response if she knew his thought process. My life, my choice. Would her thoughts on that change, now that she had been forced to take a life?

She cried out in her sleep, flailing a little, and he was next to her before he even realized he was getting off the couch. "Shhh, you're safe," he said softly, reaching out and touching the ends of her soft blonde hair. She sighed, and he could swear she had said his name as she did it. Did she dream of him, as he dreamed of her? The thought filled him with equal parts hope and despair. He found the sight of her in his bed, surrounded by his things, comforting and so unbelievably right. And arousing as hell. He took a deep breath and stepped away, not trusting himself to be so close to her. He went to the couch and stretched out. He watched her until he drifted off to sleep.

Xxx

Felicity woke to soft, warm sunlight. It took her a moment to remember where she was and why. She sat up and groped for her glasses. She was surprised, when she put them on, to see Oliver stretched out on the couch across the room. He was still asleep, his feet hanging off the end. She'd never seen Oliver asleep before, and he looked younger somehow. Gone was the ever-present weight he seemed to carry with him everywhere. He looked at peace. She remembered his words from a few mornings before. "I dream," he had admitted. "Or rather, remember. So I try to avoid sleep unless I'm tired enough to do it dreamlessly." It seemed wrong, that after everything he had been through, that he couldn't find peace in sleep. Except it seemed that for now at least, he was at peace.

She looked around the room and saw her purse on Oliver's beautiful antique desk. She went over and dug out her cellphone, being as quiet as possible in an effort not to wake Oliver. She still couldn't believe he was sleeping later than her. He must have been exhausted. The cold floor under her feet reminded her of the night before, and she quickly climbed back into the still-warm bed. She texted Digg to see how he was doing, then checked her emails. She realized she had no idea what had happened after she was taken yesterday, and quickly searched the news sites to see what had been reported. "Stellmore International Executive Arrested" read one headline. She saw several other articles mentioning her abduction. Oh . . . apparently she had missed a lot. She wondered if anyone had bothered to let Detective Lance know she had been found.

Her phone buzzed, and she saw a response from Digg. On my way to you - no rest for the weary.

She texted him back. Too much to ask for you to go get me things from my apartment? She hated to ask it of him, but she didn't have much of a choice. She didn't have a car here and she knew they would have a lot to deal with today. Not to mention Oliver would have a fit if she went anywhere without him. She should probably wake him, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. He just looked so relaxed, and she wouldn't take that away from him.

Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced at John's reply. I appear to be the assistant today.

She smiled, and sent him a quick thank you, then went back to her emails, responding to requests from the board of directors to meet with Oliver regarding the issue with Isabel, and making up an excuse for his apparent absence yesterday. Mr. Queen was concerned for the safety of his staff members and decided it was best to spend the rest of the day with his family. She set up a meeting with the board at 11, and another with PR after lunch.

She heard rustling from the couch, and looked up to see Oliver stretching as he woke. She had always found the man incredibly attractive, but watching him slowly wake . . . good lord. She tried to ignore the rush of heat she felt as she watched him. He turned his head and looked at her, smiling as he sat up. "Hey," he said, his voice still heavy with sleep.

"Hey, back," she said softly, still trying to recover her composure. It should be against the law to look that good. But then, he didn't have a playboy reputation for nothing. She really should try and remember that. She forcibly reminded herself of the fiasco with Isabel. If anything would put a damper on the attraction she was feeling, she knew that would do it.

He stretched again, looking sleepy and confused. He looked at the window, then his watch, then back to the window. "Huh."

She chuckled, unable to help herself. "Has it really been that long since you woke up after the sun."

He simply quirked an eyebrow at her, and damn it all, there was that heat again. Thankfully Diggle chose that moment to knock on the door. He entered, carrying coffees. One of the house staff was trailing behind him with her bag. Felicity jumped up and gratefully took the bag, thanking the woman as she turned to leave. Once the door closed, Digg said "So . . .What's the plan?"

"How are you feeling?" Oliver asked him, nodding to his shoulder.

Digg shrugged his good shoulder. "Sore, but I'll live. Harder than hell to drive with your arm in a sling."

"Thanks for picking up my things," Felicity said, feeling terrible that she had added to his list of things to do this morning.

"I was planning on it anyway, we have a meeting with Lance in an hour, so you had better get ready."

Oh. Lance. Of course the police would want to know what had happened. She closed her eyes, feeling suddenly sick as she realized she would have to tell them how she had escaped. She would have to tell them all the details, and they would have to go check and see if she had indeed killed that man. Her thoughts must have shown on her face, because Oliver was there, his hand on her elbow. "Why don't you use the bathroom first, okay?" She looked up, and his blue eyes were firm and steady as they held hers. She held his gaze until she calmed down, allowing his presence to ground her. Then she nodded, dragging the bag toward the bathroom. She didn't really have time for a shower, but she was going to take one anyway.

Xxx

As soon as Felicity closed the bathroom door, Digg looked to Oliver. "What was that all about?" He asked. Felicity had turned ashen as soon as he had mentioned Lance.

Oliver exhaled, scrubbing his hands over his face. "She thinks she killed someone last night, in order to get away."

Digg sat down with on the edge of the bed, shock in his face. "Oh."

"Yeah," Oliver said. "You called Lance last night?"

Digg nodded. "When you guys were on your ways back. As Arrow, of course," he said with a half smile. "He'll meet us at the office, as a courtesy." He nodded toward the bathroom door. "Is she okay?"

"I don't know Digg, she was pretty out of it last night." Oliver looked worried as he glanced toward the bathroom door. "She saved herself though, John, there's no doubt about that." Digg watched his friend as he watched the door, his eyes glazing over as he went somewhere else for a bit. He imagined Oliver felt somewhat responsible for Felicity's loss of innocence. Hell, he felt responsible too. But he wasn't sorry that he had taught her how to defend herself. He was just sorry that it had come to that.

The door opened and Felicity same out, dressed in a red bell dress that Diggle had randomly pulled from her closet. Her still damp hair was pulled up in a pony tail, a riot of curls. Oliver quirked his head as he considered Felicity, and he wondered what the other man was thinking. The bruise at Felicity's temple had grown and was an ugly shade of deep purple. She rubbed her hand at it self-consciously. "No help for this . . . " she said softly. She looked at Oliver. "Bathroom is all yours—better hurry if we're going to make that meeting with Lance."

Oliver nodded, touching her shoulder gently as he went. Diggle watched as she closed her eyes at his touch, exhaling carefully. As Oliver shut the door, she sat on the couch and looked at him. She sighed. "He told you."

Digg just nodded, and her eyes filled with tears. "You did what you had to Felicity."

"Yeah, but . . ." she sniffed. "It doesn't make it any easier." She wiped furiously at her tears. "I heard you though, when I was trying to get away. Your voice told me what I needed to do."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that Felicity. I should have . . . "

She cut him off, stopping him from taking the blame for her capture on himself. "They didn't give us a shot, Digg. They planned it out well. Not your fault."

"It's not your fault either," he said softly.

She shrugged. "It's going to be a long day."

xxx

She'd had no idea how long, really. When Lance had come to meet with them, he had informed them that there had been a "snafu" with Isabel. Someone had shown up with transfer papers and she was now unaccounted for. Oliver had been livid. Then Lance had her recount her escape. That had been loads of fun. Next he had asked her if she could tell him where she had been held. She had shaken her head, but then offered that she would probably know it if she saw it. Before she really knew what was happening, Oliver was growling to Lance that she had been through enough as Lance was trying to lead her toward the door. Digg had stepped in, reassuring Oliver that he would keep her safe. Oliver had reluctantly agreed, his jaw clenching. She felt a little bad for leaving him to face the board alone, but then again she would rather be doing that then the alternative. She and Diggle rode in the back of Lance's police cruiser through the Glades as they searched for the building she had been held at.

It took them a good hour to find the building. When they finally did, Lance went to investigate. When he came back, he radioed for a medical examiner. Felicity was glad it was Diggle who had come, because she wasn't sure she could handle losing it in front of Oliver again. She did lose it then, and John wrapped her up in his huge, iron arms and whispered to her that she was incredible and brave and strong, and that he was so glad she was his friend. Which made her cry more. Eventually Lance took them back to the office, and he must have asked her more questions, but she really couldn't remember what they were.

When Lance dropped them off at Queen Consolidated, Diggle simply led her to the car. She looked at him and started to object, but he simply shook his head. "I think that was enough for now, Felicity. My shoulder needs a break, anyway." She sighed and gratefully climbed into the back seat. Digg was absolutely the best. She fell asleep in the car, the morning having taken its toll.

xxx

Diggle woke her when they arrived at her apartment. Her legs felt like lead as she scaled the stairs. It felt like a lifetime ago since she had last been here, not just yesterday morning. Despite her nap in the car, she still felt exhausted. She supposed it was the shock of her whole situation. She sighed, throwing her keys on the table and lowering herself on to the couch. Digg sat at the other end, pulling his arm out of the sling with a groan. "Got some water?" He asked.

She got up, brought him a glass and watched him down a couple of pills that she assumed were for the pain. "Hurting?" She asked, and realized it was a stupid question.

Digg nodded. "I think I'm ready for a nap myself," he chuckled. "You probably should pack a real bag."

His words made no sense to her. She raised her hands in confusion.

"Felicity," he said slowly, Merlyn is still out there. Lance is going to put a couple of units outside the Queen residence, and I beefed up security, but Oliver is going to want to keep close. You and I both know our Merlyn can get through anything if he puts his mind to it. And Oliver wants to keep you close, so . . ."

Holy crap, she really could use some space from brooding overprotective men. The thought of staying in Oliver's room again made her a little dizzy. She'd had a hard enough time this morning, even with the trauma of the day before hanging over her. This was just going to get harder and harder to deal with every single day. She needed space.

She groaned, throwing a blanket at Digg as she headed to her bedroom. She packed a bag and straightened the mess from the day before. Feeling idle, she scrubbed her bathroom and then moved to the kitchen, wiping the counters. She ran out of things to do about two hours in to her cleaning project. She sighed and perched herself on the kitchen counter. She found her phone and texted Lance to see if there was anything new on Isabel or the man she had killed.

Within ten minutes, she had an update from him. He sent over the transcript from the interview they had conducted with Isabel, prior to her transfer-turned-escape, as well as a file with information about her captor. She pulled out her tablet and, steeling herself, opened the file. Lenny Grainger, 35, priors for breaking and entering, larceny, and assault with a deadly weapon. At least he was a criminal. That should have made it better. But it didn't. She set up searches with Grainger, the property she had been held at, and anything connecting them to either Isabel or Merlyn. Next she checked on the items from Blood and Daily. She had no idea if the Arrow would be going out tonight, with all of the grim things hanging over Oliver's family, but if he wanted to she wanted to be prepared.

There was a soft knock at the door, and she hurried over to look through the peephole, hoping it wouldn't wait Diggle. She saw Oliver on the other side and quickly opened the door. He had one arm up, leaning against the frame, his eyes locking on her the moment she opened the door. He just stood there, his intense eyes swimming with unspoken emotion as his jaw clenched. She wondered what on earth had him looking so freaked.

"Did things not go well in the meetings today?"

He shook his head, stepping in to her apartment. "No, it was fine."

She was confused. "So what's wrong?" She crossed her arms, not at all sure what was going on here.

He stuck his hands in his pockets, shaking his head. He looked at Diggle then. "He looks worn out."

"Yeah, I think the morning took its toll. He's been out for hours." She led Oliver to the kitchen, where they would be less likely to bother their sleeping friend. "So what's the plan for tonight?"

He looked at her for a second, tilting his head as If he wanted to ask her something, but then thought better of it. "I think after everything yesterday, a night off would be warrented."

"Diggle said you want me to come to the mansion," she said, sounding less than thrilled.

"Yes." She glared at him, and he added, "Please?" She chuckled at that. "I want you to have dinner with my family."

"Whaaattttt?" She may have screeched. Shit. She hoped she didn't wake up John.

Oliver quirked his lips at her, and she was glad to see some of the tension ease out of him. "My mother still sees you as my assistant," he said softly, and she couldn't help but notice the tenderness in his voice.

"I am your assistant," she said, pointing out the obvious.

"You aren't just my assistant. You know that. You are so much more than that. I want her to know that—my family to know that."

"'That's right, Mrs. Queen, I also assist your son during his night job as well,'" she teased. "That would go over well." He shrugged. "And then, what, you are going to sleep on the couch in your room again?" God, why did she have to say what she was thinking? But she was annoyed—she really wasn't sure how she could handle another twelve hours of being around him constantly without burning alive.

"Felicity," he said carefully. She tilted her head and waited. "I seriously haven't slept that good in . . .years." Oh. Whatever she'd been expecting, that wasn't it. His jaw was working again. "I really don't like having you out of my sight right now, after yesterday. He's still out there."

She threw her hands in the air. "Merlyn generally doesn't keep doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result, Oliver. I doubt he's going to grab me again."

He shook his head. "Not a gamble I'm willing to make, Felicity. Even if you were down the hall, I would worry. I've fought more than one man in that mansion, so I know people can get in. The only way I'm getting any rest tonight is if you stay in my bed." Her eyes widened, and he grimiced. "You know what I mean!"

She couldn't help it, she laughed.

"What's so funny in here?" Diggle asked, coming in from the living room.

"Nice nap, Sleeping Beauty?" Felicity asked.

He crossed his arms over his chest and just raised an eyebrow.

"Since we have a couple of hours before we need to be anywhere," Felicity said, "would anyone like to know what I've dug up on our current bad guys . . . and girl?" Soon they were on her living room floor, discussing, planning and strategizing.

xxx

Oliver leaned against the back of the plush seat in the Bentley, watching the sun set as Diggle drove them toward the mansion. Felicity sat staring out the opposite window, fidgeting her hands. "What if I screw this up?" She asked suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"Your family. What if I let something slip? I'm not good at the cover stories, Oliver."

He quirked a smile at her. "Just stick as close to the truth as you can," he reminded her.

"Why are you making me do this, again?" She sighed.

He could tell from the way that she asked it that she wasn't expecting an answer from him. At least not a serious one. But he couldn't help himself. Spending the morning watching Officer Lance make her relive the previous day and then dealing with business matters without him by his side had left him feeling on edge and more than a little dependent on her. "Thea's dealing with all this new stuff. I need to be there for her. I'm still no good at the day-to-day stuff Felicity. It'll be easier having you with me."

She looked at him, her mouth falling open a little in surprise. He couldn't help but smile. "Why do you keep saying stuff like that to me?"

He shrugged. "Because it's the truth." It was getting harder to deny that. He wasn't even sure he wanted to anymore.

He could swear that he heard Diggle laugh in the driver's seat.