Thanks everyone for the nice comments, didn't expect it to be so popular :) Hope you all enjoy this follow up !

Felicity looks at her watch and sighs. What's taking them so long? She called at least 10 minutes ago!

The minute after an arrow flies across the room and comes to stuck itself in the bad guy's shoulder. He cries in pain, and turns to Felicity with an angry look on his face. "You bitch! How did you warn him?" He wants to raise his gun but the pain is probably too strong and he drops it on the floor, where Felicity swiftly kicks it away. But just before he succumbs to the pain he raises his good arm and forcefully strike her across the forehead. He then falls to the ground with a groan.

Oliver runs to her first, while Diggle checks on the guy, making sure he's incapacitated and holding him at gun point.

"Finally! Did you guys stop for coffee or what?"

Oliver crouches before her, putting his bow on the ground and cutting her ties.

"Are you ok?" he asks, and his eyes widens when he sees the small trail of blood coming down from her temple. A low growl raises from his chest and he turns to the guy with a murderous look on his face.

"Oliver, it's nothing," Felicity calls to him, because she feels that he's about to start a blood bath. But he doesn't listen and marches to the guy, grabbing him by his throat. "You bastard," he mutters in his most threatening Arrow voice, but Diggle put a calming hand on his arm. "He's out for the count, Oliver. He doesn't even hear you."

With a regretful look, Oliver drops the guy back on the floor. He still kicks him in the ribs for good measure and doesn't care if it looks childish.

"Can you call Lance and let him know?" Oliver asks Diggle before coming back to Felicity, who is standing, but a little wobbly on her legs.

"I'll be fine," she reassures him when she sees the angry look on his face. He puts one arm under her knees and another around her shoulder and lifts her up.

"Oh Oliver, I can walk for crying out loud."

He gives her a firm yet tender glance. "Zip it, Felicity."

She sends him a very offended look for all of three seconds before leaning her head against his shoulder with a sigh.

After all, she was kidnapped, and tortured (ok…sort of) and she's bleeding heavily (almost) so if Oliver wants to carry her against his muscular yet oddly comfortable frame, who is she to say no?

She might have her pride, but she's not completely stupid either.

A bit later at the lair, Felicity is sitting on the med bay while Oliver is standing between her legs, tending to her forehead wound. Turns out it's not so deep after all, so he just cleans it and applies a few strips.

He gave her something for the pain earlier, and she's not sure what it is but she feels rather good and floaty. His chest, which is at her eyes level, is radiating a nice warmth and she can still smell a hint of his cologne.

She should get kidnapped by stupid guys more often.

"That was a smart move, with the name," Oliver tells her while finishing his ministrations.

She grins. "Well, I'm a smart girl. I'm glad you figured it out, though."

"Hey, I'm a smart guy too."

"You are. I must be rubbing off on you." Her eyes widen. "I mean, with my brain. I'm rubbing off on you with my brain."

He chuckles slightly, and his hand lingers a bit longer than necessary on her blond locks. "You're all fixed," he tells her in that low, caring tone he takes sometimes with her, and she doesn't know if it is the drug, or the fact that his hand now rest on her shoulder (a place that belongs only to him in her mind) but her brain-to-mouth filter definitely shuts down.

"You're not going to kiss and make it better?" she asks with a little pout, which turns into a strangled gasp when Oliver actually presses his lips to her eyebrow.

He pulls away just a few millimeters, and she takes her chance, catching is lips with hers. He stiffens slightly, surprised, but it doesn't last, and soon his arm slides against her waist, pressing her against him as one of her legs comes to rest on his lower back. Oliver cups the back of her head, holding their mouth together for a deep delicious kiss, and she loses herself in the sensation.

Oliver slowly pulls away when he can feel her body sag against his, and understands that she's slowly succumbing to the drug and the adrenaline crash.

"Do my kisses put you to sleep?" he asks, his smile echoing in his voice.

"No no, go on, go on," she mumbles and she's obviously drifting.

He presses one last kiss on her head before raising her in his arms, and this time she doesn't protest, her head resting limply on his shoulder. He's going to take her home and make sure she's resting – and more importantly, that she's safe.

"Hey, Oliver? Thank you for saving me," she murmurs sleepily and he rests his cheek against her mane, closing his eyes for a brief instant.

Yes, he saved her tonight.

But, in more ways than one, she saves him everyday.