A/N: Ahhhhh guys I'm so so sorry that it's been a million years since the last update! I promise that I haven't forgotten about this story - I fully intend to keep writing and to eventually finish it. However, I have literally not had a spare moment until now to write this...so I can't make any promises about when the next update will be. However, please stick with me and keep reviewing so that I know you're all still out there!

Oliver stared down the barrel of Roy's gun, careful not to flinch. He knew that any reaction would be a mistake, one deadly enough that it would likely cost him his life.

"You know the League is here." The younger man sneered, his eyes flickering back and forth between Oliver and the wide-eyed Artemis standing next to him. "You know that they're after you."

"I'm not setting you up," Oliver claimed calmly. "I'm just here to fence my latest-"

"-if they see me with you," Roy stepped closer, his voice lowering to a menacing whisper. Oliver was very conscious of the fence's bodyguards inching closer to Artemis' position, and was already formulating any possible way he could take out Roy, the two bodyguards, and get her out safely.

It wasn't looking good.

What had he been thinking? He should have known that it would be a bad idea to pull a job under the League's nose and then try to fence his steal, and now his life and Artemis' hung at the mercy of a slightly deranged youth. But he needed the money, and he was running out of time.

He would never forgive himself if Artemis was hurt because of him.

"They have no way of tracking us here," Oliver continued, forcing his voice to sound as relaxed and unthreatening as possible. "I was careful."

Roy swept the arm not holding the gun towards the table, where the hatpin and the gold necklace had been placed after the initial examination of their authenticity. "No one can trace these to you?"

Oliver immediately leapt at the chance he heard in Roy's words. "No one," he confirmed. "We came out clean." That was more or less the truth - he hadn't left his signature arrowhead at the scene, but they had set off the alarms...but still, the crime could only be loosely associated with him at this point. Hopefully, Roy would believe him.

"Get them their money," Roy pivoted suddenly, lowering the gun and striding over to the table where he swept the necklace and hatpin into a bag. "And get them out of here."

Oliver took his first breath in what seemed like a long time, and unconsciously stepped closer to Artemis, feeling the need to be near her now that there wasn't a gun pressed to his head. Artemis accepted the money that the bodyguards gave her, but Oliver couldn't help but notice that her hands were shaking despite her apparent calm.

"Let's go," he said quietly, placing his gloved hand on the small of her back while starting to lead her out of the warehouse before Roy changed his mind - something that was all too possible based on his current emotionally unbalanced state.

"I will not argue with-"

The sound of a gunshot filled the silence, and Artemis visibly jumped. It took all of Oliver's years of training and self-control not to do the same thing. "Don't move," he cautioned her, his hand slipping down to give hers a comforting squeeze before he turned back to Roy, who was still poised with the gun facing them.

"Consider that a warning, Arrow." The man's tone was icy.

Oliver just nodded curtly in acknowledgement, then turned and strode away, pulling Artemis with him.

…

How did he always smell so good? Felicity knew that she shouldn't be thinking about such trivial things when she had literally been scared for her life just moments before, but now that she was back on the motorcycle, pressed up tightly against the Arrow's back, she felt oddly safe. It made no sense. The motorcycle itself should be enough to terrify her, not to mention the fact that the man driving it was a dangerous, experienced criminal.

Make that an incredibly hot dangerous criminal...if only she knew what he looked like under that hood.

The Arrow took a sharp corner, and Felicity automatically tightened her grip around his waist and closed her eyes, savouring the feeling of holding him like this. Since their kiss after the heist, he had been so cold and distant that he seemed almost like an entirely different man than the one that had kissed her, twice, so passionately that thoughts of it had kept her up at night.

Seriously, she had to have a conversation with him. If she was falling in love with him, it only made sense that…

Falling in love? Where had that come from? Even as Felicity questioned, she realized that it-

Blackness threatened to overwhelm her.

Pain invaded all at once, becoming the only thing keeping her conscious. Amidst the waves of agony, she dimly heard the Arrow's voice calling her name, but it sounded like he was really far away.

"You have to get up, run, get out of here," the Arrow continued urgently, but though she understood every word he was saying, her dazed brain couldn't seem to comprehend what he was trying to tell her. "Artemis, do you understand?"

Felicity's eyelids finally fluttered open - she hadn't actually realized that they had been closed, but now the blackness made more sense. The Arrow was crouched over her, his stance clearly protective. But why?

There was something hard and gritty pressed against her cheek. The pavement. She was lying on the ground. Why was she-?

"I promise I won't let them hurt you."

That seemed like a weird thing to say, Felicity thought, as she watched the Arrow straighten up and face the darkened street, a resolute set to his shoulders. Who were they? And why did she need to be protected?

Every single muscle in her body screamed at her as she struggled to push herself to a sitting position, and the pain threatened to blind her again with her efforts. With a low moan, she managed finally to get up to the point where she could watch the Arrow, but even that tiny bit of effort exhausted her body so much that she slumped against the remains of the smoking motorcycle, unable to get all the way to her feet. Her helmet, which she vaguely was starting to remember the Arrow removing to check her for head injuries moments before, lay a couple feet away. It had probably saved her life, her dazed brain told her.

Slowly, she began to piece together the puzzle. She and the Arrow...they had left Roy and had been on the motorcycle, and then...everything was blurry. There had been a loud noise, and skidding tires, and then darkness and pain.

But what was happening now?

…

Oliver took a deep breath, and readied himself. He wasn't sure exactly where his two assailants were, but he caught a glimpse of the dark-haired woman who had attacked him before, and this time there was a masked blonde woman with her as well.

The League had found him. They must have caught wind of his heist, and realized that he hadn't heeded their warning...and now they were here to make good on their threat.

"You should have left town," a voice came from behind, and Oliver leapt to his left, a long metal rod missing his head by mere inches.

Whipping his bow off his back and ignoring the twinges from his body from where he had landed hard after being thrown from the motorcycle, Oliver strung an arrow and spun to face the blonde he had glimpsed earlier. "This is my home," he defended himself, loosing an arrow that she batted away almost contemptuously with her rod.

"And it will be your grave," another voice hissed just seconds before a fist crashed into Oliver's jaw and sent him stumbling backwards from the impact. However, Oliver's reflexes kicked in and he regained his balance, stringing another arrow and pointing it towards the two women advancing towards him.

The next couple minutes passed in a blur - Oliver managed to shoot one more arrow before the women were too close for his bow to be of any use other than as a makeshift staff to block their attacks.

They were talented, clearly well-trained, and were easily a match for him.

Oliver found himself tiring quickly under the onslaught of their blows, and salty sweat was starting to drip into his eyes, making them sting. He managed to get a solid punch in the brunette's side, leaving her gasping, but also inviting an attack from the other woman. Luckily, he managed to duck under the blonde's staff, feeling it whiz past his nose, only to feel the brunette's leg sweeping his out from underneath him. Landing hard, he automatically rolled, narrowly avoiding another attack from the rod, one which probably would have knocked him unconscious.

If he lost, they would kill Artemis next.

Somehow, that thought gave him enough energy to get to his feet again, and face down his attackers.

"Your courage is admirable," the taller brunette mentioned thoughtfully, "as is your skill."

"It's too bad you're seconds from dying," the blonde added, sounding almost regretful.

They advanced, and Oliver knew that this was going to be it. He couldn't do anything more to beat them, not when they were working together.

The blonde fell suddenly, slumping to the ground as all the strength left her limbs. Behind her, Oliver saw a clearly dazed Artemis holding tightly onto a pipe that had formerly belonged to his motorcycle. She was swaying slightly, and he suspected that she probably had a concussion.

The brunette whirled in sudden, violent anger as her partner didn't rise, and the full force of her anger fell on Artemis, landing a blow that sent the less experienced woman flying several feet before landing hard. She didn't get up.

The brunette advanced to where Artemis lay unmoving. "I'll show you what happens to those who dare lay a hand-" She never got a chance to finish her threat, because Oliver tackled her from behind and they both went sprawling onto the pavement. He immediately followed up with by driving his fist into her side, then with another blow to her head to knock her out. Making sure that sure wasn't about to get about for the foreseeable future, he dragged himself to his feet and stumbled towards Artemis.

She had to be okay.

Glancing quickly behind to make sure the brunette wasn't following, Oliver was relieved to see that the woman had abandoned her attack and was instead staggering towards her unconscious friend. This was his chance to get them both out of there before things got bad again.

Artemis' eyes were still closed, but he could clearly feel a strong pulse when he removed his glove and laid his fingers against her neck. Scooping her up in his arms and ignoring the pain from his protesting muscles, Oliver started running, leaving his attackers behind.

…

The room came into focus slowly as Felicity opened her eyes.

The pain returned all at once, although it seemed a little more subdued than she remembered it being, although the throbbing agony behind her eyes was new.

"Slowly," the Arrow's deep voice cautioned as she started to sit up, and she felt his strong arm push her back down so she was lying on the couch again. "How are you feeling?"

"Confused. Dizzy. And ouch."

He chuckled, and she felt her blood race slightly at the sound. "Concussion," he told her. "But other than that, you're surprisingly unharmed."

She tried to sit up, and this time he helped her slowly rise, supporting her around the waist until the room stopped spinning. Now that she had a better view, she realized that they were back in the loft somehow, and the Arrow looked just as beat up as she felt. "What about you?" she asked, a frown touching her face as she remembered pieces of his fight with the League. "Are you-?"

"I'm fine." He looked away, and she saw one of his fists tighten, straining against the leather of his gloves. "Artemis, I…" he swallowed, still not meeting her eyes. "I...I never should have let you be involved in all this."

"You didn't let me do anything," she responded immediately. Though she was touched by his concern, she wasn't going to let him think that he was in any way responsible for her choices.

"What happened tonight, it was my fault. I let you get close, and that put you in danger." She could tell how hard it was for him to admit that, for him to believe that it was because of him that she was hurt. However, he was being ridiculous, and she was going to let him know. Besides, she had been wanting to talk about their...closeness...for a while anyway.

"This is about the kiss," she pursed her lips and stared knowingly at him. "You think that, because you kissed me, you're putting me in danger."

He stiffened, and that was all the proof she needed.

"I kissed you back," she pointed out, overriding his attempts to protest. "I kissed you back. My choice."

"This has nothing to do with that," he broke in. "This has to do with the fact that, because of me, you were just thrown from a motorcycle and nearly killed by a team of deadly thieves."

Inching closer to him on the couch, she maintained the intense eye contact. "My life, my choice," she repeated. "And I want to be here. I want to be with you." That was the first time she'd admitted it out loud, much less to him, but she knew it was true.

"You don't want this life."

"Stop telling me what I want!"

"Then stop wanting things that'll get you killed!"

Felicity had had enough - she surged forward and captured his lips with hers, immediately losing herself in the sensation of the kiss, in the feel of his arm pulling her against him, in the sheer pleasure of knowing that he couldn't help but kiss her back.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over, and he was off the couch and pacing. "Stop doing that," he grumbled.

"Doing what?" she licked her lips absently, her eyes still half-lidded in pleasure.

"Doing that." Under his breath, she heard him mutter, "How do all our arguments always end this way?"

She smiled slightly in satisfaction despite the pounding headache behind her temples and the fact that the room was starting to spin again. "Stop fighting it," she murmured, swaying slightly.

He was by her side almost instantly, despite his inner turmoil about keeping his distance. "You need to rest."

"Stay?" she hadn't meant her request to sound so desperate.

His mouth settled into a firm line of disapproval, but he didn't protest as she laid her head on his lap and closed her eyes.

…

"Forgive me, Father," the brunette admitted, hanging her head in shame.

"Your apologies do nothing to change your failure," the man responded, his cultured voice cold. "How is it that one man and a barely trained woman were able to best both you and Ta-er al-Safar?"

"Sara," the brunette emphasized the name, "was compromised, and I became distracted. The Arrow took advantage of my lack of focus. Next time-"

The man held up a hand. "I have different plans for the Arrow now - you will leave him be."

The woman started to protest, but the man cut in. "Nyssa, you will listen and obey the words of the Demon's Head."

Nyssa bowed her head.

No one contested Ra's Al Ghul.

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