A/N: Post-2x07 drabble. Deals with how Felicity faces going back to the office again.
It was two days before they were allowed back into their office. First the police needed to finish their investigation and then maintenance needed to repair the damage. They took the first day off. He spent it with his family, she spent it sleeping in small bursts, always waking from the same nightmare.
The second day they worked out of the conference room down the hall. She hadn't even realized she'd been avoiding looking in the direction of his office until they were waiting on the elevator and she'd gone stiff as she watched two workers carry in a new couch identical to the old one. The one that had been shot up and slashed with flying glass.
Oliver's hand hovered behind her back as they stepped into the elevator and she could tell he wanted her to ask if she was okay. She gave him a quick smile and it seemed to do the trick.
When she walked out of that same elevator the next morning by herself she had to take several deep breaths and wipe her palms on her skirt before she pulled open the door to the outer office. The last time she'd done that it had been with a gun in her back and the Count whispering in her ear.
Their offices were empty, Digg and Oliver not having arrived yet. With her heart threatening to pound out of her chest she forced her shaking hands to go through their normal routine motions. It took her three tries to hang her coat in the closet, and two jabs of the button to turn the computer monitor on and that was before she'd stepped foot into Oliver's office.
She always turned on his computer and pulled his calendar up on his tablet first thing every morning. If there was a meeting to prepare for she'd leave the appropriate files and notes. If they'd had a particularly bad night she'd leave him an empty mug which was her way of telling him the coffee machine would be working that day.
But as she crossed the slick marble floor to his desk all she could see was the Count, sitting in Oliver's chair, drinking the expensive scotch he saved for certain investors. She shut her eyes tight for a second and took a wide berth around the chairs in front of the desk. She knew they'd been replaced but that didn't stop her fear or from her rubbing her wrists which were still bruised from being tied down.
She gave her head a sharp shake as if she could physically remove the thoughts from her mind and made her way around. The familiar actions were only slightly calming as she turned on the system and waited for it to boot up. Her eyes kept darting to the conference room to her left where he'd held her.
Her pulse seemed to triple in speed and she could feel her breathing becoming erratic as flashes of that night played over and over.
It seemed like forever until Oliver had shown up. She knew he'd come. She'd never doubted that. But every second felt like an hour. She'd had to endure the Count toying with her while they waited. He rambled on about his grand plan and Oliver's weaknesses. But mostly he talked about how he was going to use her to bring Oliver to his knees. That had made her blood run cold.
She knew there wasn't just vertigo in that syringe. She knew it was a souped up dosage of the drug he'd infected the population with through the flu vaccines. She knew it would kill her almost instantly. He seemed to find that funny.
And so she'd sat there, both wishing Oliver would come and worried that he would. She'd never wanted to be the reason he got hurt.
When the Count had started absently playing with her hair she'd almost been sick. She felt the slight pull as he ran his hand through her ponytail, the way the strands would fall down and brush against her back as they slid across his fingers. All she could do was sit as stiff and still as possible and not give him any more ammunition.
The computer chimed, making her let out a little screech as she turned back, hand pressed tight over her heart. She stumbled back a few steps trying not to run from the room the way she wanted to.
When her hip banged painfully into the corner of the desk she jumped, breath choking in her tear clogged throat.
A glint on the floor caught her attention, and before she knew what she was doing she found herself kneeling to reach under the table that held two orchids. Orchids she'd been so grateful to discover were tended to by the housekeeping staff. She could never keep plants alive. As she knelt, their normally lightly sweet scent felt cloying and heavy. Her stomach rolled as she discovered a shard of glass that had been missed during the clean up.
It wasn't a large piece, only a couple of inches long and slender. But as she held it she was suddenly back in the conference room two nights ago when she'd been dragged up by her hair while the Count fired his gun at Oliver.
That's how she found herself with her back pressed to Oliver's desk as she sat slumped on the floor, the sound of blood so loud in her ears she couldn't hear anything else as her chest constricted and she struggled to pull in even one breath that felt like she was getting enough air.
She never heard Oliver or Digg when they arrived. She didn't hear them calling her name. She just knew that one moment she was alone and the next there was a warm hand on her arm as another pulled the glass from her fingers.
He was all she could see, just like that night. Crouched in front of her, the knee of his perfectly pressed pant leg pushing into her shin where her limbs folded awkwardly. His hand cupped her cheek again, but this time she could feel the heat of skin on skin and she gasped at the contact. When her eyes flew to his she saw it all again. The guilt and pain he was feeling was right there for her to witness and she shut her eyes tight trying to hide her break down from him, not needing to add to what he'd already gone through.
She felt the space between them vanish as he moved closer and then she was being lifted and sat in his chair. Her hands had clamped down on his forearms and she couldn't get them to let go after she was seated. He didn't pull away, just shifted so she could keep the connection.
Gradually her breath began to settle and her pulse returned to a slower pace. The sounds of the room made their way back to her and she could hear Digg as he approached from behind.
Oliver's outward calm and willingness to wait her out is what finally gave her the courage to open her eyes. One corner of his mouth twitched upward when he saw her. "Hey, you're safe. You're okay." he said so quietly she wondered for a second if she still couldn't hear properly.
A glass of water was slid across the desk towards her and she looked over to see Digg looking on with concern. Oliver slipped one hand out from beneath her now lax grip and picked it up, handing it to her carefully.
She took it on instinct, but didn't let go of him with her other hand. Her throat was still tight as she swallowed and when it made her cough he took the glass away.
"What happened?" he asked and she sat back with a small jolt,
Felicity cleared her throat a few times and pushed her hair out of her face before she looked to him again. "I uh...I don't know. I wasn't too excited to be in here again, I mean...it's our...your office and he." she broke off on the last word and had to pause before she could go on. "He brought me here, you know and this is where…" her free hand waved to the other side of the desk where Digg stood and indicated the brand new pane of glass where the Count had fallen. "I didn't know it was going to be so hard." suddenly she felt ridiculous. Logically she knew she shouldn't have a problem being back in here again, but knowing that did nothing to erase her fears.
His thumb ran lightly over her bruised wrist sending tingles across her skin. She focused on him to try and ignore her own feelings just then. That's when she noticed the darker than normal bruises under his eyes and the deeper lines between his brow. She watched her hand lift and smooth the area around his temple as his eyes slammed shut.
"You're not as okay with it as you want me to think you are." she said quietly,
When he looked up at her his normally bright blue eyes were clouded, but when he spoke his voice was sure. "I don't regret it.".
"I'm sor…" she started to say again but he cut her off,
"Don't apologize. Not again." there was a timbre in his tone she'd never heard before and as much as she hated to admit it her heart flipped when she heard it.
"I don't regret it. I'll never regret…" the breath caught in her chest for a different reason, sure he was going to end that sentence with 'you'.
The sharp click clack of heels on marble made all three of them turn swiftly to see Isabel Rochev approach.
Felicity tried to pull back from Oliver, unable to suppress a groan at seeing her just then. She swiped a hasty hand under her glasses in a feeble attempt to wipe away any evidence of tears.
"What exactly is going on here?" Isabel asked icily,
Oliver's arm pressed into Felicity's lap and wouldn't let her rise. "It's a personal matter Ms. Rochev." he said, almost through his teeth and she whipped her head back to look at him, shocked at how he'd said it.
"I have no doubt. But that's what after hours is for." Isabel replied, no doubt to what she was insinuating.
Felicity flushed and felt heat rise in her chest. She almost missed Oliver's eyes flicking quickly to Digg's.
The next thing she knew Digg was blocking them from view as he walked towards Isabel. "Mr. Queen will reschedule your meeting as soon as possible." he said evenly, leaving her no room to do anything but turn and walk out the door with him on her heels.
When she was no longer in sight through the glass Felicity let out a long breath, "You shouldn't have done that." she said, acutely aware of how close he was and how his arm still lay across her thighs.
"Yes, I should have. This was private." his eyes held hers and the way he said the word 'private' was so intimate and quiet the low heat in her belly sprang to life.
"Oliver…" suddenly the air around them was charged and she was sure her heart had stopped beating as his gaze held hers.
She had to do something before things went places she wasn't sure they could handle them going just then.
Her hand coming up to adjust her glasses broke his gaze and she gave him a tight smile, "Why aren't you sleeping?"
He blinked quickly at her question, "Why aren't you?" he countered
She froze in a mild panic. She'd thought her makeup had been good enough to cover the circles under her eyes.
"I keep having the same dream." she admitted, his eyes narrowed in worry but he didn't interrupt. "He shoots you in front of me and then I feel him pushing the syringe into my neck." she said with a wobbly voice as she raised one hand and ran it over her throat where she'd felt the fine scrape of the needles that night.
His eyes darkened in an instant and his hand joined hers, as if he had to feel for himself that it hadn't happened. His touch sent tendrils of heat all through her as she fought not to show how affected she was.
"It wasn't the dosed vaccine he'd given the others." her mouth was moving and she couldn't seem to stop herself from telling him everything she knew. "It was worse...if he had...I wouldn't,"
"I know." he said heavily, "I knew then. That's why I didn't shoot the syringe out of his hand or aim for his shoulder. I couldn't risk him getting a chance."
"Oh," she hadn't actually seen it. She'd been thrown to the floor and heard the whip of the arrows flying through the air. Arrows. It had been more than one she was sure of that. She didn't know how to process that. Why he'd used multiple arrows when one would have done the job. She'd seen a mask of rage come over him just before he'd fired but by the time he'd come to her he was quiet and calm. Those few seconds she had very deliberately ignored, not sure she wanted the answers yet.
The hand he had at her neck moved to brush a fall of hair out of her face and she started. His hand hung in front of them until he pulled it back slowly. Shame flared through her. It was Oliver. He'd never hurt her.
"Sorry!" she blurted out, "He...he was playing with my hair I...I didn't like it."
"I didn't like it either." he said throatily, "I didn't like him touching you." something flashed across his face and she couldn't bring herself to consider what it could mean.
Their eyes held again and there was a long moment where anything could have happened and then he was sitting back. He squeezed her hand once before he rose to his feet. "You're safe here. And you won't be alone. Digg and I won't leave you by yourself until you're ready."
A decision had been made. She thought maybe she knew why. And she understood. Her heart resumed beating and she tramped down feelings that normally didn't see the light of day.
She gave him a nod and pushed to only slightly shaky legs. "Thanks," she said softly, giving him a soft smile that he returned. His hand grasped her shoulder lightly and then he was stepping back to give her space to move around him.
The feel of his eyes on her back followed her all the way to her desk and, as she settled into her chair, she couldn't help but wonder, for just a moment, what she would have done if something else had happened.
