Prompt #10: Stroke of Luck, written for smoakandarrow's tumblr Olicity Flash Fic Challenge. This is a continuation of the previous entry, #9: Sleepless Nights. Just to clarify my head canon for this one: Oliver and Felicity have gone on their disastrous date and, even though Oliver has told Felicity he loves her, they have both agreed that a relationship cannot happen between them.

The arrow bounced off the back wall with a sharp ring and clattered loudly to the floor. Felicity groaned and shook her head, adjusting her glasses in frustration.

"I was right," she muttered.

"About what?" Oliver asked, careful to keep the amusement from his voice. He was behind Felicity and at a safe distance, leaning back against a bench with his arms folded across his chest.

"Archery is utterly ridiculous."

"Come on, don't tell me you're giving up."

"I'm not," she snapped back, "it's just…" She shuffled her feet and looked down at the bow in her hands. She shrugged. "I don't understand what I'm doing wrong."

Oliver hesitated, eyes running over Felicity's small form, automatically noting every error in her stance and posture. The problem was he also automatically noted the tight fit of her dark yoga pants and how her bright pink sports top banded her neck, leaving the pale skin of her shoulder blades bare. He swallowed, grateful that Felicity's back was towards him.

After he had inadvertently suggested they train together, Oliver had decided that training meant an archery lesson. It was a logical solution, since it meant minimal body contact and a safe distance between them… at least that's what he had thought. Sighing quietly, he pushed away from the table and moved towards Felicity, who was struggling to fit an arrow to the small practise bow. She muttered to herself in annoyance, and didn't seem to notice Oliver coming closer as she raised the bow and drew.

"Don't move," Oliver murmured, his mouth inches from her ear.

Felicity yelped and the arrow flew across the room, striking the wall a couple of feet from the target.

"Sorry," she muttered, the colour rising in her cheeks.

"Try again." Oliver replied, waiting for her to get into position before he began correcting her. As Felicity focussed on nocking another arrow he took advantage of her lack of attention to admire her features, his eyes moving appreciatively over her face. He knew he shouldn't, but she was distracted and unaware, and he was really only prolonging his own private torture. Felicity had changed out of her heels, dropping about three inches in height, and Oliver was struck by how small she really was. Compared to him she seemed tiny and impossibly fragile, and Oliver's eyes were drawn to the exposed skin of her shoulder, and the pale scar that marred it. He fought a sudden urge to envelop her with his bulk, to hold her tight against his chest and shield her from the outside world.

Instead he waited until Felicity drew, watching her silently as she took up position.

"Hold it there," he said, moving closer to her. "You need to move this…"

…he shifted behind her, adjusting the angle of her right heel with a foot…

"…and this…"

…with one hand he pulled her right hip backward slightly, his thumb inadvertently brushing off bare skin. He heard her sharp intake of breath, and focused on ignoring his own, unconscious response.

"Here…"

…her right elbow was offline, so he nudged it gently into position with his arm…

"…and here…"

…with his left hand he pushed her left shoulder into place, standing close behind her but holding his body at a distance. Even still, it seemed that he could feel every breath she took, the space between their bodies thrumming with some invisible force that pulled him inexorably closer. He told himself he only leaned down next to her eyeline so he could sight along the arrow, but he knew it was a lie. His jaw clenched and he stepped back, and he thought he heard Felicity sigh.

"Now try." His voice sounded gruff, but at least he had kept his composure.

Felicity let the arrow fly and it landed firmly in the target with a satisfying thump.

"Yes!" she cried, punching the air with her fist.

"Nice shot," Oliver couldn't keep the smile from his face. "Now try again."

Felicity nocked a second arrow and went about setting up her stance. Oliver smiled again to see her concentration as she carefully adjusted her position, resolving not to interfere. When she finally released he already knew she would miss, and wasn't surprised to see the arrow fall just short of the target, rattling sharply across the floor. Felicity stomped her foot in annoyance.

"Bad luck," Oliver said easily.

"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong!"

A memory of another woman and a different archery lesson struck Oliver, along with an answer.

"You're thinking too much."

"Well, yeah. Hello, have you met me?" Felicity responded, turning to face him. "Although, hearing that you don't have to think to shoot an arrow makes a lot of sense. " She shut her eyes, running her hand across her forehead. "I mean, I didn't mean that you're dumb or…"

She stuttered to a halt, brow furrowing as she scrutinized Oliver's expression. "What is it?"

Oliver looked at her sharply, wondering what she saw on his face. He didn't even consider lying to her.

"I was thinking about Shado." He gestured weakly towards the bow still clutched in Felicity's hand. "She told me that once."

"Shado." Felicity swallowed and glanced down at the bow in her hands. "She taught you to shoot?"

"Yes. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be here."

There was a pause, Felicity still focusing intently on the bow and studiously avoiding Oliver's gaze.

"From what I've heard of her, she sounds… impressive." Another pause, and then, cautiously. "Slade loved her."

It wasn't a question, but Oliver answered it anyway.

"Yes," he shrugged. "In his own messed-up way."

"And you loved her." This time she looked up to watch him, expression carefully blank.

Oliver moved closer, stopping an arm's length from Felicity. He took a deep breath, eyes moving to the floor, the ceiling, and then finally back to meet hers.

"I… sometimes I thought I did. I cared for her. Very much."

Felicity nodded slowly, apparently understanding, but Oliver stepped closer still, suddenly needing to make sure.

"Felicity, back then, on the island and before, I was a very different person. Looking back now, I can see that…" he hesitated, closing his eyes tightly. When he opened them she was watching him warily. He reached out and clasped her elbows, ignoring her sharp intake of breath.

"I didn't know what love was, back then. I thought I did, but it wasn't until…" He stopped, knowing that this was forbidden territory but, suddenly, he didn't care. He took a breath, holding her gaze with his. "It wasn't until I got back, and I met you, that I found out what it really meant."

Felicity swallowed, her eyes never leaving Oliver's face. His fingers moved against her skin, and she didn't flinch or step away. Slowly, Oliver's eyes moved over her face, down towards her lips, and he found himself leaning closer.

"Felicity…"

Abruptly she moved, arms jerking out of his grip as she took a firm step back.

"No."

"'No', what?"

"No, Oliver." She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him defiantly. "You don't get to do this to me again! You don't get to tell me you love me, and then kiss me, and bring all of…" she gestured between them angrily, "… all of this back up again. All because you don't want to be alone tonight!" She moved past him, grabbing her jacket from the chair, and Oliver turned to follow her.

"Felicity," he tried again.

"No! I said 'don't!' Because we both know that tomorrow, or maybe even ten, twenty minutes from now, you'll turn around and tell me that we can't be together! So no, Oliver, not again."

She spun on her heel and stalked up the steps, her ponytail swinging from side to side with the force of anger. Reaching the top she hesitated, turning back to look at Oliver standing speechless below her.

"Oh, and you should know, I won't be here tomorrow night. Ray Palmer asked me out and I said yes. Goodnight Oliver."

The door slammed loudly shut, leaving Oliver staring after her, stunned. He didn't even try to sleep that night.