A/N: Hi guys, guess what I did today… I had a lamington for breakfast. I'm working on the theory that if I confess such a thing to you, only half of the calories will stick to my thighs… although I don't have a plan for the saturated fats which are now clogging my arteries… maybe make them a jaunty little hat to wear to distract them from ultimately killing me… dunno… that's a tricky one.
For those non-Australians amongst you, a lamington is where you take a square of sponge, soak it in a chocolate icing sugar (ie powdered sugar for Americans) mixture, and then roll it in coconut. Now, my grandmother, who was a brilliant cook, would call those dummies, because in our family, a true lamington was then split open and filled with strawberry jam (raspberry at a pinch, but anything else would just be taking the piss) and cream and then put back together. I had a real lamington for breakfast. I feel like that gives me the higher moral ground rather than just settling for a dummy. I have no idea why I'd feel that way, but I'm going with it, because it makes me feel good. That's pretty much the same reasoning behind the life-sized sculpture I fashioned of Richard Armitage made entirely of cheese. The hardest thing about that (apart from finding a 6'2 block of cheese) was getting the feet right. Cheese feet are hard. You wouldn't think it, but they are. I always end up with an extra toe. Don't know what that is all about, but there you have it.
So, bottom line, my life advice for you today is – if you're planning on sculpting something out of cheese in the near future, try and pick something with lots of toes… or wait… maybe not as many toes, because you're going to add to them… hmm… I don't know… that's far more tricky then I gave it credit for. Okay, changing my life advice for the day to – you're on your own when it comes to cheese sculptures of hot actors. I feel that has a lot of applications in everyday life really. In fact, it's hard to imagine a scenario you're going to face in life today that such a gem won't be innately useful.
Okay, the story, I'm finally back into it… kinda. Well, I'm going to try and do some writing for it today, after the ringing in my ears of the sugar rush from the lamington dies down a bit. That's probably nothing to worry about, right? Anyways, I've finished my Elementary fic and am valiantly holding off from starting another one, even though I've got a cool idea for it. But no, I shall resist and get this story finished… or die trying. Whichever one comes first. I suspect the death thing, but I'm not going to dwell.
But yes, a chapter, beautifully edited by the brilliant Cookie, who is as sweet and talented as her name implies. All cookies are talented, with a big C or a little one (I mean the cookie part beginning with the upper or lower case C… because talented doesn't begin with the letter C… I know this because I have a fab editor to point these things out to me). The fact about cookies is obvious… except for ones that attempt to be nutritious. That's just crazy talk. What's the point of a cookie being good for you? That's like taking a bath in dirt… which pigs actually do… and pigs are pretty awesome… so it's hard to imagine they haven't figured out the meaning of life… and now I don't know where I was going with this point… did I have a point… seems pretty unlikely, to be honest.
Umm… so… story, I guess… good luck with it…
CHAPTER FIFTY ONE
Oliver zipped up the black bag and looked at Diggle. "That's the last of it."
Diggle gave a short nod of his head. "Then we're ready for tonight."
"Element of surprise," agreed Oliver. "It's our only chance." He and Diggle had been organizing final details for their next move on Ross and Gutz at Oliver's house. Oliver had welcomed the distraction of not having to think about Felix. He was still unsettled from having watched Felicity and Felix have lunch together. Oliver knew it was stupid of him, that he had nothing to worry about from Felicity The instinct had remained, however, to run across that restaurant, scream at the other man to keep the hell away from his woman, throw Felicity over his shoulder and march out of the restaurant with her. Oliver had always seen himself as more evolved than that. Even with Laurel, when he'd come back and seen that she and Tommy had something special, it had hurt, but Oliver had stepped back to give them space. With Felicity stepping back wasn't an option. Not now. He was in too deep and moderation was not something he could apply to their relationship any more. Oliver supposed he should be vaguely concerned by that fact, and he was. Only he had no way of being less proprietary and protective of Felicity. Probably because he didn't want to be. He was happy and content with his level of obsession with her.
The scent of Felicity's skin was in his nostrils suddenly. "Felicity," he whispered under his breath, and a split second later she was bursting into the kitchen.
"Are you two kidding me with this crap?" she yelled at them.
Both men turned to look at Felicity standing in the doorway, her face flushed, eyes flashing as she glared at them both in equal turns. She went to slam the door behind her but it was one on a gas release, which made the door close quietly and slowly. Felicity gave a grunt of annoyance at the uncooperative door. "That door is not communicating how much I want to punch both of you in the face right now!"
Oliver wasn't exactly surprised. "Felix told you about the job offer," he said calmly.
"It wasn't a job offer," said Felicity hotly.
"I'm pretty sure it was. I was the one doing the offering." Oliver had suspected Felicity would be upset with him over this, but had hoped Felix being happy about the job might temper that somewhat. The murderous glint in Felicity's eyes suggested he might have been overly optimistic in thinking that particular thought.
"It was you being manipulative," she said accusingly. "Beijing is as far away from Starling City as you can get."
"No, Lubumbashi in the Congo is as geographically as far away from Starling City as possible, but we don't have a lab in Lubumbashi, so I had to settle for Beijing."
Felicity's eyes went wide. "You actually looked up the farthest point from Starling City in the world?"
"Yes." Oliver gave her a crooked smile and went for a long shot. "Doesn't that make me adorably quirky?"
Diggle sighed heavily. "If it pleases the court, I'd like to be tried separately from my co-defendant going forward."
Felicity jabbed a finger at Oliver. "No, it doesn't. It makes you a deranged idiot who I'm still mad at!" She jabbed a finger at Diggle. "You, John, I'm just disappointed in you."
He inclined his head. "I understand, but believe it or not, Felicity, we were backing your play."
"You might have been," said Felicity fiercely, "but Oliver sure as hell wasn't."
Oliver frowned. "Why does Diggle get the benefit of the doubt, and I'm still getting shouted at?"
"Because I told you very specifically what I needed from you regarding Felix, and you did the total and complete opposite," she bit out.
"I let you go and meet Felix alone," protested Oliver.
Her glare deepened. "Seriously?"
"I wasn't sitting at the table with you, I didn't hear what was being said. Being within eyeshot doesn't count."
Felicity put her hands on her hips. "According to whose rules?"
"Ah… the universally accepted rules of etiquette when you find out that your girlfriend is married to another man, and insists on going alone to some meeting where the guy could turn out to be some kind of psycho rule book." His look was pointed. "That rule."
"There is only one psycho here, and it's you, Oliver!"
"How is sitting in a restaurant, having a nice meal with a friend—"
"You didn't let me order anything," said Diggle dryly.
Oliver sent him an annoyed look for that unnecessary piece of information, and continued on with his defense. "… in anyway psychotic?"
"You know exactly what you did." Felicity waved her arms at him. "I am not going to let you turn us into a pair of angler fish, Oliver Queen!"
"What?"
"You're not going to absorb me completely until I'm just a pair of testicles you are swimming around with!"
"That's not what I'm doing, Felicity!"
"That's exactly what you're doing, and I didn't sign up to become a pair of testicles attached to your ass!"
Diggle screwed up his face. "Okay, you guys argue weird. I'm out of here." With that, Diggle turned on his heel and left them to it.
They barely noticed he'd gone.
Oliver took a deep breath and tried to get this situation back under control. "Felicity—"
"No, Oliver, I don't want to hear it," she said sharply. "I couldn't be any clearer with what I needed from you with this whole Felix thing, and then, what do you do? You not only follow me to that restaurant, and sit in the shadows watching us, but you also make sure Felix ends up on the other side of the world."
Oliver squared off, not backing down. "I'm sorry you're unhappy, but I'm not sorry I did it."
Felicity's eyes went even wider. "Are you seriously sticking with that?"
"Yes."
Her lips pressed together in an angry line. "Listen to me, Oliver Queen, I meant what I said. I'm not going to let you absorb me. I'm nobody's testicles!"
Oliver grimaced, knowing what she was referencing, but refusing to see the analogy. "I don't know what you're talking about, Felicity. I'm not trying to absorb anything."
"Yes, yes you are, because you're Oliver Jonas Queen." Felicity waved her arms around wildly, as wide as she could. "You're this huge… huge… thing!"
"What does that mean?"
"It means you have an enormous amount of gravity around you, Oliver," said Felicity emotionally. "Everything about you is big – your persona, your life, your goals – everything is larger than life! Everything gets pulled into you! And then there's me, the nobody IT girl—"
"You are and never have been nobody," said Oliver in horror.
"I know that," she said roundly. "But when you do things like this, it makes me feel like a nothing, like there is no more Felicity, and only Oliver left, and I'm not okay with that. And if you think I'm going to let you overpower me in anyway, then you've got another thing coming, mister!"
"That is not what I was trying to do!" said a shocked Oliver.
"You were trying to control me!"
"I was trying to control the situation!"
"The situation I was in, which means controlling me!"
"No, it doesn't!"
"Yes, it does! I told you I was handling it. There was no need for you to get involved!"
"I was already involved! When it comes to you, I've been involved since the first day we met! Because I love you, and loving someone means getting involved!" Oliver hadn't meant to shout that last part at her, but he couldn't help it.
"There are different ways to be involved without taking over!" she shouted back. "It was my problem, I was dealing with it!"
"And I was backing how you were dealing with it," asserted Oliver. "That's all."
"No, that wasn't all you were doing," she said hotly. "You try to control people you love, and I know it's your jumbled brain's way of thinking you're protecting them, but there are lines, Oliver, and I'm not okay with you crossing them, not with me!"
Oliver made a frustrated noise, vexed that he couldn't get his point across without it being taken the wrong way. "Look, you're smarter than me—"
Felicity snorted loudly, folding her arms in front of her chest. "Obviously."
"Not just intellectually, but emotionally too—"
"What's your point, Oliver?"
"Okay, so, you're not going to argue with me even a little bit about those two points?" he asked in mild ire.
Her look was hard. "Not right now I'm not, no."
"Well, good," he said a little unconvincingly, "because that all goes towards my point."
"Which is?"
"Which is that you bring a lot to the table when it comes to us. You're brilliant, you understand and recognize emotions better than me, you're hopeful and not a mangled mess of neuroses—"
"Are you saying this to make me feel sorry for you?" Felicity demanded to know. "Because if you are, that's a low blow."
"I'm saying this because I need you to acknowledge what I do bring to the table," said Oliver determinedly.
"A singular need to smother everything you love in an overprotective cloak of smotheryness?" offered up Felicity sweetly.
"First of all, smotheryness is not a word…"
"Really, now's a time to give me a critique on my grammar? That's what your brain is telling you?"
Oliver ignored that little jab. "And second of all, what I do bring to the table is an acutely honed survival instinct. It's kept me alive when I should have been dead a hundred times over. All I'm doing is giving you the benefit of that survival instinct, like you give me the benefit of your intelligence and emotions every day since we first met."
"I don't need you to protect me from, Felix," she said in frustration. "He's a great guy who wouldn't hurt a fly. You don't know him."
"And either do you, not after five years. Trust me, five years is enough to change a person, a lot."
"Not Felix. He's the gentlest guy I know. He's a complete teddy bear and you have no right to manipulate him like this!"
"Stop protecting him!" said Oliver in frustration.
"Stop turning him into Dr. Evil," returned Felicity just as sharply. "Felix isn't like that. He's a good guy."
"The Felix you knew was a good guy. This man, you don't know him. I don't care that your names are on a marriage certificate somewhere—" Oliver's insides still churned at that thought. "It doesn't immediately make him immune from turning into some kind of douche who could be a danger to you."
"I know that. I'm not an idiot." Felicity's voice was getting louder again. "But you've met him now. What about Felix says homicidal maniac to you?"
"He's lying about something."
"About what?"
"I don't know—"
Felicity made a loud clucking noise and rolled her eyes.
"But he's holding something back, I just know it. There is something there."
"You're crazy," said Felicity, but there was a split second of hesitation, and Oliver leapt on it.
"You know there is something too," he said quickly. "Don't you?"
Felicity scowled at him. "Don't tell me what I'm thinking now."
"But you do, don't you?" he pushed her. "Something isn't quite right, and underneath all that adorable puppy-dog behavior, something is off."
Felicity looked away and shook her head, but she didn't have an immediate rebuff for him.
Oliver felt a glimmer of hope that he was getting somewhere. He took a step closer to her, putting his hands on her arms. "Felicity, look at me."
She begrudgingly complied, looking up at him with a disgruntled gaze.
"This, this is my wheelhouse," he said urgently, needing her to understand. "I know impending doom when I'm around it. It's how I've stayed alive all these years. I have a sense of when things are not right, and this Felix guy, he's not right. There is something about him that is sending off alarm bells in my head, and I need you to take my concerns seriously."
"Like you took my requests seriously?" she shot back at him.
"I did take them seriously, but some concerns just outrank others. That's not a me thing; it's a life thing. I wasn't looking to overpower you, but you have to let me go with my instincts. They've got a proven track record." Oliver was desperate for Felicity to understand that. He needed her to trust his take on this situation.
"And you don't have a moment's concern that your instincts might be clouded with the fact you're clearly jealous of Felix?" she challenged him.
"I'm not jealous of Felix," he asserted strongly.
"Oh really? So, all of this, you would have done the same thing if it was an old wife of Diggle's turning up, or Roy's?"
"Yes," he said defiantly, although that was more of a knee jerk response. Oliver wasn't exactly sure what he'd have done in those kind of circumstances, and clearly Felicity was with him in that thought.
"So, you're not jealous about the fact that Felix and I are married?"
Oliver's hands instinctively tightened on her arms. "No." He stepped closer, unintentionally looming over her, only maybe it wasn't that unintentional. Oliver needed Felicity to give to him on this one. She was potentially in danger. Oliver had no give in him when it came to down to that scenario.
Felicity's chin came up, completely unfazed by his vast physicality in relation to her slight frame. And she had every right to be unconcerned, because they both knew she held all the real power in that moment. "It doesn't bother you that he's the first man I slept with, the first man to see me naked…"
"Don't," he rasped. She was pushing him, intentionally stirring his emotions. Oliver knew it, but he couldn't stop her or the rush of territorial feelings he was experiencing with her talking about being with another man like that.
Felicity was leaning into him, reminding him exactly what that body felt like and she seemed just as determined as he was to make her point heard. Her voice was low, warm breath sweet on his face as she leaned in even more. "You look me in the eye and tell me that your judgement is in no way clouded by the way those thoughts make you feel."
"You-you don't know what you're talking about," he said hoarsely. They weren't shouting at one another anymore, but this low, breathless conversation felt a thousand more times intense than any shouting match could. The heat was rolling off Oliver's body. He could feel it, the way the blood was pounding around his veins, the way he could feel sweat starting to dampen his back and forehead. Felicity was torturing him with her words and body, and he should just step away, but stepping away from her was never going to be an option for him anymore. Oliver knew he was going to fight to the death for every little second with Felicity, even if it drove him insane in the process. Some pains were just too intensely pleasurable to avoid.
"I know exactly what I'm talking about." Felicity didn't even blink as she looked up at him, her tone as determined and full of emotion as his. "Everywhere we go there is some woman you've hooked up with, given some part of yourself from your Ollie days. That's just something I live with every day. You don't think I could let that drive me crazy? All those women who've had you—"
"They never had me," said Oliver forcefully.
"What about Laurel, Sara?" threw back Felicity. "Don't tell me that was just sex for you, Oliver, I know it wasn't. I know you loved them, and you know what, I made my peace with that. They're still in your life, and I'm happy for you to have them there—"
"It's not the same," insisted Oliver. His hands tightened on her arms again. "You know it isn't. They're no danger to me, to us."
"In your opinion, and I trust you on that," said Felicity roundly. "All I'm asking is for you to do the same with me and Felix."
"I can't," said Oliver painfully. He understood how Felicity was seeing that as a double standard from him, but he truly believed it wasn't.
"You're not seeing this situation for what it is," she threw at him. "Admit your jealousy is clouding your judgement on this one."
"Admit your incessant need to see the good in everyone is clouding yours," he bit out. "Admit that you want to believe the best about Felix—"
"Because I still love him?" Felicity's eyes flashed fire at him. "Is that what you want to hear? That as soon as I saw Felix again, all those old feelings came back, and I remembered what we had, that sweet, uncomplicated—"
"Stop it!" he ordered her fiercely. The blood was roaring in Oliver's ears as Felicity pushed him relentlessly. His hands moved to her waist, dragging her even closer to him, fitting her against the hard angles of his body. Oliver needed her to stop talking, stop torturing him, or he was going to start torturing her back…
A/N: And I guess this is where things get interesting… if you're into that kind of thing…
