Author's Note: Hello all! Here's another chapter for you. Lots of fluff before some craziness. I felt you deserved a little more romance. Please don't forget to review! Your feedback means the world to me. I'm honestly amazed so many of you are still coming back for more! I hope I haven't let you down with any of my sporadic updates.

When Felicity awoke, it took her a moment to remember where she was. She recalled the events of the night before and smiled. Then a sudden fear washed over her. The spot beside her was empty, cold without Oliver's heat to fill it. For a moment she felt stupid, as if she had been treated like a throw-away lover. He left her there. He hadn't woken her. He truly was the play-boy the world believed him to be.

Then she shook her head. She was in his home. It wasn't as if he would be far away. She glanced about the room, finding her towel at the top of a laundry hamper along with his jeans.

In the midst of her assessment of the room, the door creaked open and she found Oliver carrying a tray full of food. When he saw her sitting up in bed, he grinned. A slight blush crept up his neck and settled in his cheeks. "Morning," he mumbled as he closed the door with his bare foot.

"Morning," she echoed, smiling as she covered her chest with the sheet.

"Come now," Oliver chided. "There's nothing there I haven't seen..."

She glanced away from him, embarrassed. He was right. They had exposed themselves fully the night before, emotionally and physically. They had marvelled at every part of one another. She nodded, letting the sheet fall back to pool in her lap. "True."

Oliver set the tray at the end of the bed. Felicity eyed it with longing. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until the intense aroma of bacon wafted up to meet her nose. "Mmm... Smells so good."

"There's enough for the both of us," Oliver said, picking up a piece of greasy bacon and tearing it in half with his teeth. He handed her the rest of it and she nibbled on it without hesitation. "And just so you know, I cooked all of this myself."

She raised an eyebrow. "Sure you did..."

"What? You don't believe I can cook?"

She shook her head.

"Well, I'm insulted by your lack of confidence."

"Whatever. Let's just eat."

They continued to eat, letting silence fall between them. Once all the food was gone, Felicity got out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. She dug out a pair of torn and faded jeans, a flowery tank top and a new bra and pair of underwear. She showered quickly, then slipped into the outfit. As she was brushing through her tangled hair, Oliver entered.

For a moment he simply stared. Then he smiled. "Why don't you wear jeans more often?"

"I work at a multi-million dollar company with high standards and a secretive vigilante that doesn't give me much time to go home to change before fighting crime. I don't have much free time to enjoy casual attire."

After the words spilled out she knew they made the atmosphere slightly uncomfortable. She looked at Oliver to find him frowning. Before she could apologize, he spoke. "Well, I suppose I should remedy that," he said, then added: "Or you should keep some more comfortable clothes at the foundry."

"Maybe."

She grabbed her make-up bag and started emptying out the contents. Before she could begin applying concealer and foundation, Oliver touched her hands and led her out of the bathroom. "No need for that, Felicity."

She eyed him, finding his demeanor easy and relaxed; something she'd never experienced from him before. "What will we be doing today?"

Oliver leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Pretending the world isn't full of bad guys dead set on killing us."

They spent the day doing a variety of things. For a while they had lounged in his bedroom, napping in each other's arms. For a few hours, Oliver had rested his head on her chest while she read Pride & Prejudice. Once the day had dragged on and the afternoon light began to fade, Oliver led her away from the mansion and out onto the grounds.

She'd seen the mansion before, and she'd glimpsed the expansive gardens and sprawling lawns from the windows, but was unsure what all the estate had to show. Hand-in-hand they walked the graveled paths through fragrant greenhouses, Oliver giving brief back stories on the construction of each one. Finally they were enveloped by a small grove of trees. To Felicity's surprise, they came upon a large pool with a waterfall cascading down. The surface of the water was covered with a thin layer of steam, signifying that it was heated.

"I had no idea you had this!"

Oliver chuckled. "Being a millionaire playboy has its perks," he said. He kicked off his shoes, then bent down and slowly rolled up his jeans. He sat at the pool's edge and dipped his feet in. He glanced up at her and patted the space beside him.

She followed his lead, kicking off her ballet flats and rolling up her jeans. Once she plopped down next to him, she leaned to the side, allowing herself to rest comfortably against him. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer.

It seemed an eternity before either one of them moved or spoke. The sky had darkened and the only light around them was the illumination from the pool lights, casting a washed out pale glow to the world.

Oliver nudged Felicity, and she looked up at him with a grin. "Yeah?"

"Wanna go for a swim?"

She looked down at the water, finding their legs and feet abnormally pale beneath the water. It was warm compared to the outside chill, and she couldn't deny how desirable that warmth was. "I don't have a suit," she responded lamely.

"No one comes out here at night," Oliver said with a mischievous wink. "Have you ever skinny-dipped?"

The question brought hysterical laughter from deep within her and she almost couldn't stop it. She looked up at Oliver's face to find him patiently waiting for her to calm down and answer. He was clearly serious. Taking in some calming breaths, she said: "I actually never have."

Without hesitation, Oliver pulled his shirt up over his head and tossed it onto a nearby chair. "First time for everything, then."

He stood and unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down along with his boxer-briefs. Without looking at her he jumped into the water, the splash drenching her. He surfaced and came to stand in front of her, resting his head on soaked knees. "Come on," he pleaded. "Join me."

Deep down she felt that she shouldn't. I should be wondering if Digg and Roy found anymore Master clues. I should be wanting to go home and marathon something on Netflix. I should be questioning all of this. But she wasn't.

She stood and slipped out of her clothing. But she did not jump in. She walked over to the stairs at the far end, teasing Oliver with the sway of her hips. He followed her the whole way, watching her with eyes reflecting the pale pool lights. She grasped onto the railing and took the first step, then another. He did not wait for her. He ascended the steps and took her into his arms, much like a husband might pick up his bride to carry her over the threshold. Gently he brought her into the water, allowing her to float in his arms.

She nuzzled against his neck, feeling his pulse; feeling how alive he was.

Soon the depth of the pool dropped and Oliver was somehow treading water and holding her up. She sensed the effort and quickly pushed away from him. He did not stop her. She swam away from him, looking back over her shoulder playfully before diving down. When she surfaced he was right beside her. He leaned in and kissed her gently.

They soon found themelves swimming beneath the wall of water and she discovered a deep artificial cave behind the cascade. She floated to a seat at the edge and sat, the water coming up just below her breasts. Oliver remained in the water, gazing up at her.

For a while they remained like that, watching one another in silence as the waterfall roared behind them. Then he inched closer, pulling her back in. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. The warmth of the water mixed with the warmth of his skin was intoxicating.

He whispered into her ear an even more absurd question and she shook her head in answer. He kissed her cheek and then said a little louder: "First time for everything."

Much later they shuffled into his bedroom, clothes clinging awkwardly to their wet skin. Oliver went into the bathroom and started the shower, leaving Felicity alone. She went straight to her phone, conscious of her neglect. She turned on the lock-screen to find numerous alerts and notifications, all from Diggle and Roy.

Diggle: A new clue, call me.

Roy: URGENT new clue

Diggle: Need you ASAP

Diggle: Where are you?

Diggle: NEW CLUE. Not good.

Along with these and fourteen other similar texts, there were ten missed calls. She quickly called Diggle, her heart racing. I knew I shouldn't have ignored my phone.

"Where have you been?" Diggle asked without greeting. "We've been in a panic for the last two hours!"

"Sorry. I can't explain-"

"You need to get to the lair as soon as possible, Felicity. We got a new clue, and it isn't good," Digg interrupted, followed by Roy in the background shouting: "Make sure she brings Oliver!"

"We'll be there soon."

She hung up just as Oliver opened the bathroom door, steam wafting out into the bedroom. She frowned. "Diggle has been trying to reach us," she mumbled. "The Master has left another clue."

Instantly Oliver's relaxed demeanor switched, falling into taut and painful stress. She watched as he tugged the legs of his pants down and slipped his shoes back on. "Let's go," he said coldly, quickly making for the door. All she could do was follow.