"And I liked it better when I was on top," Felicity growled, jerking her hands off the ground about an inch before having them slammed back down into the cold, dusty floor. She let out a breath of air and jerked her hips up at the same time as her arms, her legs and arms flailing to no avail.
"Don't waste your strength." He looked even more menacing than he had the first night she saw him, anger surfaced in his eyes.
"I bet you're so proud of yourself. Pinning a girl to the floor who's less than half your weight must be such an accomplishment."
He smirked but applied more pressure to her hands.
She stopped struggling, trying to build a plan in her head; she worked better mentally than physically.
"What are you doing down here?" he said in a low, intimidating voice.
She smirked, "You mean down underneath you?"
He digs his nails into her wrists making her wince. "I'm not in the mood for your fucking smart-ass mouth."
"You were a few weeks ago."
He looked two seconds away from snapping. Her neck, that is.
"I'm help-ing," she said between breaths.
His eyebrows knitted together, his eyes hardening even more. "What do you mean "helping"?" He pushed his palms down into her writs when he said "helping".
She swallowed her whimper. "Your firewall was… was really easy to penetrate. I fixed it."
"Why?"
"It doesn't matter why." she seethed. "Get. Off. Me."
He pressed her wrists firmer into ground, leaning in closer to her face, his mouth a breath away from hers, she thought about maybe smacking her forehead against his, but she thought better of it. "You're in no position to be telling me what to do."
Felicity leaned head up and positioned her mouth close to his ear. "I'm in a position for something," she whispered provocatively. She laid her head back down on the ground a smirk playing on her lips.
He licked his lips almost deliberately, his eyes dropping to her lips briefly, "I agree, Miss Smoak"
"I can tell you agree by the way your arrow is stabbing me," Felicity said seductively. She wanted to try and break away again, even if just for a second, her wrists were killing her.
He laughed, it was hollow and cold, he removed his palm from her wrist then pushed his forearm down on her windpipe, she yelped but it came out only as a breath. "That little trap of yours is going to get you in a lot of trouble."
A loud, metallic clanging sounded, drawing both Felicity and Mr. Queen's attention from their current situation.
"What the hell?"
Felicity recognized the voice: Mr. Diggle.
She jerked her body forward in a lame attempt to free herself. Mr. Queen growled and slammed his forearm back into her throat. "Stay. Down," he spit out.
"What the hell?" Mr. Diggle repeated, his footsteps stopping by Felicity's head. "I told you. I fucking told you she was trouble."
"I'm helping you, asshole," Felicity gasped, her free hand prying at Mr. Queen's arm, trying to loosen his hold on her throat.
Mr. Diggle crouched next to her, his gun in view of Felicity's panicked eyes. "Helping how?"
She choked on her words, "Just. Helping."
"Why?"
Felicity's wide eyes dropped to the slick, black gun. A reluctant look of contemplation passed on Mr. Diggle's face before he removed the clip in his gun and cocked it, the bullet falling in his hand. "Man, get your hand off her throat."
Mr. Queen did as he was told, hesitantly, of course. "We can't trust her."
As soon as her lungs got air they released it in a breath of mumbled words, "You can't kill me, either. Not unless you want to clean up a bloody mess and hide my body and try and remove all your fingerprints. It'd be a tough job considering you like feeling me up."
His arm pressed into her neck again once again, harder this time. Her eyes bulged out of her eyes as her free hand tried once again to remove the thing blocking air from filling her lungs.
"Oliver!" Mr. Diggle growled, his hand gripping Mr. Queen's shoulder and wrenching it back.
Mr. Queen huffed and removed his arm, his palms finding her wrists again; she winced at the agonizing pressure he was applying.
"If I was going to tell the police I would have done it by now," Felicity choked out.
"You strike me as a blackmailer," Mr. Diggle said.
"If I were a blackmailer I would have taken his mother up on her offer. I'm sure she would have paid well. And then I would blackmail you. And I'm not doing either."
"So what are you doing?"
"Helping. Get it through your thick sculls."
"Why are you helping?" Mr. Queen barked.
"Because you helped me. That creepy guy, you shot him. You saved me."
"But you already knew then, didn't you? That's why you were there."
Felicity only nodded.
"How did you find out?"
Felicity laughed a little, "You wear face paint, not a mask."
"Another smart-ass remark and I swear to God I'll put an arrow in you."
"Your arrow," she mumbled. It's like she couldn't stop herself. Maybe she did want him to impale her with his arrow… She shook her head at her deranged thought.
"I am so fucking close to snapping your neck," Mr. Queen scowled.
"Oh, no, I'm quivering in fear." She giggled, "Get it beca—"
His palm dug into her wrist, erupting a cry of pain from her throat.
"God! It was a pun, you fucking dickhead."
"I'd be a lot easier to kill you."
"Oh, so you're into necrophilia? You're going to kill me then fuck me? That's really fucked up."
Mr. Queen's callused hand clamped around her throat and squeezed.
"Oliver!" Mr. Diggle warned, a hint of a chuckle in his voice.
"She's literally asking for it, Diggle!"
She knew she was, but there was something really fun about fucking with him.
"I have information," Felicity breathed, ready to give in, she had her fun taunting Mr. Queen, but he seemed close to losing it.
He pulled back and looked at her with his piercing eyes, he loosened his hold on her neck but his rough hand remained, "What kind of information?" he asked skeptically.
"When you got back from Lian Yu, you and Tommy Merlyn were kidnapped. I know who it was. Who paid them to kidnap you. I have the wire transfers printed," she said in one breath, afraid she wouldn't get another, she probably wouldn't have had Mr. Diggle not been present.
"Who?"
"Your mother."
"You're lying," he spit, his fingertips now digging into her neck painfully.
"No. I'm. Not. I have the wire transfers. She paid those men to kidnap you. I don't know why but she did."
"You're lying." Even as he said it he released her neck from his vice grip.
"I'm not," she said.
"She's not," Mr. Diggle said quietly.
Both Mr. Queen's and Felicity's heads turned to look at him.