Oliver Queen, Felicity discovered, kissed like he did so many other things—with intense passion and singular focus. He twisted his fingers in her hair as his lips teased over hers. When she twined her arms around him, he moved both hands to cup her face. They nipped and tasted until Felicity was out of breath. Oliver pulled her head to his chest while hugging her tightly with his free arm.
"I really wish I hadn't scheduled that meeting with the board," he groused against her hairline.
"You have such odd pillow talk. Uh, not that this is pillow talk, or could lead to pillow talk. Oh wow, who knew that kissing you would only increase the idiotic things coming out of my mouth?"
"I adore your mouth." His chest expanded beneath her head. Regret tingeing every movement, he gently pried her fingers from his shoulders. "I have to go."
"I know, sorry. Just…"
"Hey." He reached out to grab her left hand. Squeezing her fingers, he said, "You ok?"
"Yeah." Her voice squeaked slightly. "Sorry, yeah. Got to stop saying sorry, because I'm not. At all."
"Good." He adjusted his tie but caught her eye in the mirror. "Any stray bloodstains, or lipstick, I should be aware of?"
Her laughter made his smile expand. "No, you're good. I didn't have a chance to grab the right shade, so I don't have any on yet. Lipstick, I mean, not blood. Obviously."
"Mmm." The backs of his fingers brushed over her jawline. "Oops."
"Oops?"
"Stubble burn. My turn to say sorry."
She looked up at him, blue eyes wide with challenge. "Totally worth it. I'll repair my makeup before meeting Diggle." Nodding, she added, "Yes I'll take Diggle along. If you think you can spare him?"
"Just return him in one piece. See you soon." He dropped a quick kiss on her lips before leaving.
Felicity was left standing in Oliver Queen's bedroom. She stared around her, wondering if she was having a particularly vivid dream. One glance at herself in the full length mirror cured any doubts about reality. Her cheeks were flushed. She didn't need lipstick to make her lips look bruised or plump. Her pale, sensitive, skin, the bane of her adolescent romances, still showed the slight imprint of Oliver's attention to her throat.
A noise from down the hall startled her. She snatched her phone from Oliver's desk and slipped out the door.
Diggle watched Felicity closely during her interview with Detective Lance. The SCPD crime scene unit crawled through her apartment, searching for fingerprints and how her attacker had gained access. When she volunteered that Oliver's prints would definitely show up, Lance scowled. He made a sharp crack about having her boss in her bedroom. Diggle expected a scathing retort from Felicity. Her stammering blush raised his curiosity.
Later, in the office, Diggle observed with bemusement Oliver's exceptionally good mood. He was smiling at everyone. It was kind of creepy.
"Man, what is it with you today?"
Oliver's head tilted. He grinned. "Mmm?"
"If I didn't know you better I'd say you're happy."
"Why is that so hard to believe?"
Diggle folded his arms over his chest and stared, stone-faced, at his friend.
Oliver punched him on the arm, still grinning. "Lighten up, Digg. It's a great day."
"I watched SCPD pull a nine inch knife out of Felicity's pillow this morning. Remind me again what's so great about today?"
That comment sobered Oliver. He sighed and rubbed his jaw. "Did they get any leads?"
"No. They also couldn't find out how the guy got in. Which made Felicity, and I'm quoting here, "highly disturbed"."
"We've got to find these guys."
"What's your plan until then?"
Oliver's deadly focus showed on his face when he answered. "She stays with one of us at all times."
He knew the answer, but Digg asked the question just to see Oliver's reaction. "Thea or Felicity."
"Both," Oliver snapped.
Felicity drove herself to Verdant that evening. When she entered through the backdoor of the club, Diggle intercepted her. He guided her, via gentle pressure on her elbow, toward the club office.
"He wants to see you. He's been antsy since you left the office by yourself."
Felicity rolled her eyes. "And how many traffic laws, or laws of physics, did you break to beat me over here? I left before you two did!"
Diggle looked down at her. "And you give us crap about being bad liars…"
"I wasn't lying." She tossed her head. "I merely omitted certain relevant details regarding my itinerary."
"Please don't go out by yourself again. Not until we catch these bastards. I know your first instinct is to argue with Oliver when he's in "Savior of the City" mode, so I'm asking. Just as a friend. "
She nodded her agreement, but not before blushing at the mention of Oliver's name. Diggle's eyes narrowed as he watched her trot up the stairs to the club office. Oliver and Felicity both acting oddly, on the same day…
"Hi," Felicity said as she pushed the door closed. She clasped her hands in front of her, twisting her rings nervously. "Digg said you were up here and wanted to see me. I'm not really dressed for clubbing so I thought I'd hang out in the lair tonight and -"
The minute the door clicked shut, Oliver was out of his chair and striding across the small room. Even as Felicity was speaking, he curled one hand around her nape and tugged her close. His lips sealed over hers, cutting off her rambling itinerary. The hand at her waist moved to her lower back, pulling her flush against his body. When she raised one knee to drag her foot against his calf, Oliver growled his approval. She scraped her nails down his biceps.
The splint on her right hand prevented her from rubbing his jawline. She hissed in frustration. Kissing along her neck, Oliver made soothing noises.
"Stupid hand."
"Mmm."
Kisses feathered over her lips to trace down the opposite side of her neck.
"Broken on your stupid hard head."
Chuckles bubbled from his lips. "Beautiful, stupid, jaw, remember?"
"Doubly stupid."
He pulled his head back to look down at her.
"What?"
"Would you prefer I stop kissing you?"
"I'm going to stop talking now."
Proving once again that he rarely forgot anything, Oliver murmured, "That would be my preference." He picked her up and carried her, with ease, to his desk. Her tight, knee length, skirt prevented him from stepping between her legs. "I no longer like this dress," he growled.
"Blue polka-dot dress, you have failed this rendezvous."
"You think you're very funny, don't you?"
She nodded vigorously. "I know I am, you're always laughing at me."
"Not at you Felicity, because of you."
"Pft. No serious talk. No more talk at all." Felicity pushed him into his chair. Eyes glinting she settled sideways onto his lap. Her good hand brushed along his jaw while her right hand fingertips toyed with his tie.
They traded kisses and touches, lost in each other. The club, their friends and the city were forgotten for a few blissful moments. When Thea rattled the office doorknob and then loudly asked Diggle why the door was locked, Oliver stood up. He had to steady Felicity with a hand under her elbow. Not that he felt very steady on his own. It took several deep breaths, while looking at anything but the blond woman beside him, before he could speak.
"So, how was your day?"
Thea and Diggle considered them both with a wary eye when Felicity and Oliver emerged from the office laughing hysterically and flushed like they'd been in a sauna.
A/N: Never fear, dear readers. The drama plotline will continue in the next chapter. This chapter, though, is meant for pure enjoyment.