"This is the last time that I fly with you!"

Felicity stomped—well, more like picked her way carefully, yet angrily—through the snow as she made her way up the curb and into the lobby of what she could only describe as a seedy motel, even if its name—The Cedar Creek Hotel and Inn—was a little more… optimistic.

Oliver followed after her, roughly dragging their bags off the bus and into the dirty, slushy mix covering the parking lot. She could hear him grumbling something under his breath, but he didn't dare outright reply. Good. So, he had some self preservation instincts, after all.

Their flight had been grounded in the middle of nowhere after a freak snowstorm hit and they were lucky—ahem, "lucky"—enough to catch a bus that was willing to take them to the nearest hotel to ride out the storm. Until then, she supposed she should just be glad she wasn't currently setting up for the night on one of those hard, plastic benches in the empty airport.

Felicity closed her eyes against the sudden warmth the heat in the lobby provided. She'd been freezing her ass off the entire bus ride. A moment later her suitcase was dropped, carelessly, beside her and Oliver was pushing past to speak to the man at the front desk. She sighed and followed after, tugging her bag along.

"...need a room for the night," Oliver was saying. He fidgeted from side to side slightly, as if he were in a hurry. Felicity wanted to roll her eyes. Their flight was grounded—partially because of him, she might add—over two thousand miles from their destination. Where the hell did he have to be?

The man behind the counter nodded slowly and clicked something on his computer. "Be $125 for the night."

Felicity did roll her eyes at that. $125 for a room in this place? She was grateful there was heat, but… there really wasn't much else going for it. She glanced around the lobby—more like a small room with a desk to one side and a ratty couch at the other—at the peeling wallpaper and outdated paneling. She supposed she should just be glad they had any rooms at all, what with this storm.

The man gave Oliver a key card to his room after he paid, and she stepped up to the counter, already pulling out her wallet.

"Sorry, ma'am. No vacancies." Her eyes shot wide and she opened her mouth to argue, but the man only shrugged. "There's another place a few miles from here. They're not nearly as nice, so they may still have some rooms available."

Behind her, Oliver snickered.

He. Snickered.

She saw red.

Turning around, Felicity pushed past him, grabbing the key card out of his hand as she went.

"Felicity," he laughed, but followed after her, pulling his own bag behind him. "You know, that bus is probably still outside. I'm sure they'd give you a ride."

"Shut up."

At least this wasn't one of those outdoor motels. She didn't think she could be outside in the cold for even one more second. The lobby led to a small corridor, a number of doors off to either side and she checked the number the clerk had written on the key card.

103.

Finding the door, she shoved the card into the lock and then into the room. She swung the door shut behind her spitefully, or tried to. Oliver caught it, huffing in irritation as he pulled his suitcase in and then shut the door properly.

"You know I wouldn't have left you on your own like that, right?"

She wouldn't have let herself be left like that, so what did it matter.

She pushed her bag into the far corner, ignoring him. That's when she noticed the… bed situation. There was one, full sized bed directly in the center of the room. A small dresser sat across from it, and next to that was a desk with a wooden chair. The only other piece of furniture in the room was a counter near the bathroom, a coffee maker and two mugs set out on it.

"I call bed," she said, as if she were a child, but who cares. Another second and Oliver would have done it, anyway.

Oliver rolled his eyes, but didn't argue. Thank goodness for small miracles.

"I get bathroom first," he said, leaving his own suitcase by the door and hurrying into the other room.

Guess that's why he was in such a hurry, she thought, watching him go.

She did a quick sweep of the room, making sure everything seemed clean. Not that she had much choice at the moment, but… At least, she'd know what to avoid touching. Everything looked clean, though. No dust or dirt or the lingering smell of cockroach spray. Pleased, she pulled a few things out of her bag to change into. Luckily she had packed a nice large t-shirt for sleeping in. Unluckily she had packed little else for sleeping in.

At least, the shirt came down to mid-thigh so it wasn't like she'd be giving Oliver a show.

The sound of the toilet flushing caught her attention and a few moments later Oliver was walking out of the bathroom.

"All yours," he said, moving towards his bag.

With her sleep shirt, toiletries, and phone in hand she headed into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

###

After getting changed, taking off her makeup, and brushing her teeth, Felicity sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and dialed the one person she desperately wanted to talk to right now.

Laurel answered on the third ring.

"Hey! Where are you guys? It's getting late, you almost here?" Felicity's answering groan told her all she needed to know. "What happened?"

"Freak blizzard over the Rockies. We were forced to land in some little airport in the middle of nowhere."

"Are you alright?"

Felicity sighed. Laurel was always mother henning her. Of course, now would be no different. She supposed that was just the price she paid for being the youngest sibling.

"Yeah, yeah. We're fine. It was more precaution than anything, but…" She hung her head, feeling the anger start to ramp up again. "If we'd just left on time this wouldn't have been an issue."

Laurel was quiet on the other end of the line, not hesitating per se, but not entirely willing to bring up the cheating bastard ex-boyfriend literally in the other room. She could understand that, she supposed. No reason to court drama on your wedding weekend, though, the drama seemed to be finding them regardless.

"So now we're staying at some motel. In the same room! And to make it worse…" She paused dramatically. "There's only one bed."

She sighed again, leaning back until her head rested against the wall behind her. She was so… over this whole weekend. First, she couldn't get off of work until Friday afternoon because the board of Palmer Tech wanted to have a meeting and, apparently, it's mandatory for Vice Presidents to attend in person. Even when their sisters are getting married on the other side of the country. Then, to make matters worse, Oliver was over an hour late to the airfield, because of course he was! She'd been fuming when he finally showed up, looking all nonchalant in his jeans and peacoat, with a cup of coffee in hand. Like flight plans meant nothing! Though, she supposed they didn't when you owned the plane.

"I'm sorry, Felicity. I know you two don't get along."

And Laurel did, truly, sound sorry. So much so, it made Felicity feel like the world's worst sister.

"Don't be sorry. I'm the one who's sorry. I'm going to miss your wedding."

"Rehearsal," Laurel corrected. "I'm sure you'll be able to fly out tomorrow morning. Which leaves plenty of time to get to the wedding."

"Hopefully." Felicity sighed, again, but the certainty in Laurel's voice calmed her a little. "The pilot is going to text Oliver as soon as the weather clears."

Not wanting to go back out into the room yet, Felicity made chit chat with Laurel, asking about the wedding prep and how Tommy was handling things.

"He's great," Laurel laughed. "I just give him a task and point him in the right direction."

Eventually, though, Laurel needed to get to bed, and Felicity figured she should probably do the same. With a quick goodnight to her sister, Felicity hung up, grabbed her used clothes, and braved whatever awaited her in the other room.

###

What awaited her, of course, was Oliver.

Lying in her bed.

And not just on it, but under the covers and everything. He was such an ass.

"Nuh-uh, no way." She dropped her clothes on top of her suitcase, then flicked her wrist in his direction. "I called dibs on the bed, remember?"

"I'm not sleeping on the floor, Felicity. There's plenty of room for the both of us."

She crossed her arms in front of her, jaw tight as she waited. It didn't take long. He exhaled a frustrated breath through his nose, but started to sit up.

Oh. Wow.

He wasn't wearing a shirt.

She swallowed thickly and pried her eyes away from tan skin and sinewy muscle, before he noticed her noticing. That was the absolute last thing she needed tonight.

It wasn't that she didn't know Oliver was attractive. Hell, she'd actually said it out loud the first time they'd met. She'd been fifteen and meeting her new stepsister's boyfriend for the first time and it just… came out of her in a super inappropriate babble that, to this day, still made her blush. Especially, once Oliver had proven what a dick he was by cheating on Laurel. He didn't deserve to be drooled over, even if Felicity's traitor body said otherwise.

"Look, this isn't exactly a treat for me, either," he was saying, grabbing two pillows from behind him, and for a moment Felicity thought she had won. But then he turned to his right, stacking the pillows on top of each other and effectively creating a barrier between the two sides of the bed. "Tonight was supposed to be Tommy's bachelor party. Now, instead of doing what we had planned—for months—he's going to some bar with Max and the guys. Without me."

With that, he grabbed one of the pillows from the other side of the bed, folded it up behind him, and fell back with a huff.

On a normal day, when she wasn't so tense with worry and frustration, she might have felt bad for him, but today? Today she needed a punching bag, and, given his history, it might as well be him.

"Oh, big deal. You're going to miss your friend's bachelor party? Well, I'm going to miss my sister's wedding! Because of you!" She wanted to march over, grab one of the pillows from his makeshift wall and hit him over the head with it. "Because you couldn't be on time, even once!"

Oliver shot back up in bed, anger and maybe even a little hurt brightening his blue eyes. "You think that I want to miss my best friend's wedding?"

"I don't know," she sneered, caught up in how good it felt to unload on him like this. "You tell me. You're the one who's in love with the bride!"

He sneered right back, shaking his head. "It was a freak blizzard, Felicity. I can't control the weather."

"You made us late! You threw the whole flight plan off. And you don't even have the decency—"

"You could have taken a commercial flight out if you didn't—"

"You know I had to work up until the last possible minute, Oliver Queen! Don't you dare go there with me! Laurel and Tommy suggested I fly with you out of convenience—fat lot of good that did me—or else I never would have—"

"What is your issue?" he demanded, cutting her off again. He still looked angry, but also… tired. She was tired, too, but he wouldn't get out of the damned bed so she could go to sleep. "What did I do to you to make you hate me so much?"

A humorless laugh ripped from her throat. "You cheated on my sister. With my other sister!"

"Oh, and Sara holds none of the blame for that."

"I never said that."

"But you don't treat her like this. Besides, Laurel forgave me, years ago, so I repeat. What is your issue?"

She shook her head, unable to even comprehend the nerve he had. Laurel had forgiven him, sure, as part of a twelve step program, after she'd fallen into a depression so deep it had turned her into an alcoholic and nearly ripped their newly blended family apart. Felicity had been there for some of it, before she'd left for MIT. Leaving might have actually been worse, though, because her entire first semester all she did was worry about her sister. Oliver had done drastic, irreparable damage to one of the people Felicity loved the most, and he thought she should just... what? Give him a free pass the way everyone else did?

She felt the warm wetness of tears pressing against her eyelids and she turned away, not willing to let him see her cry. She shouldn't be crying. This was stupid, and not even really about him, anyway. Sure, he was the reason they were late and got caught in the snowstorm to begin with, but she was just… frustrated. She had worried about Laurel for so long, and now here she was with her life straightened out, marrying the love of her life, and Felicity might miss it.

"Hey."

It was soft, comforting, and embarrassment flooded her, because she could just tell by his tone that he'd realized she was crying.

"Felicity, hey." She heard the creak of the bed and then he was standing behind her. He didn't reach out, but she knew he was there. "I'm sorry, alright. For everything. Just don't cry, okay?"

"I don't want to miss the wedding," she murmured, wiping her eyes.

"You won't. The weather will be clear by tomorrow and if it isn't… I won't let you miss the wedding. I'll get a car and drive you there if I have to. I promise."

There was a kind of conviction in his voice that caught her off guard. She took a breath, allowing herself a moment to calm down. Maybe it was just an olive branch for the time being, an empty promise to get her to stop yelling at him, but Felicity believed him. Something in his tone… She believed he'd do everything in his power to get them to the wedding.

So she offered an olive branch of her own. Sort of.

"Not even you can drive that fast."

"Wanna bet?" She could hear the smile in his voice and she turned to give him a small one of her own, but then she realized a smile was going to be difficult to manage, what with her jaw on the floor.

He. wasn't. wearing. pants.

Jesus.

This time Felicity couldn't force her eyes away. Instead, like the traitors they were, her eyes skimmed down his chest, his abs, the v leading down into his boxer briefs. She was pretty sure her mouth had fallen open in what was probably her best impression of a fish.

"Let's go to bed!" she blurted, then, immediately realizing how that sounded, "No! Not bed! Sleep! Let's sleep. Let's sleep on different sides of the bed with this nice pillow wall separating all of your parts from mine."

She flushed, her face getting so hot she almost wanted to go back in the bathroom and splash some water on herself to cool down. Instead, she flipped the comforter back and climbed in on the right side, pulling it up around her shoulders in an attempt to hide without looking like that's what she was doing.

Oliver, thankfully, didn't comment on any of that. She could hear him moving around and then the lights flipped off and the mattress dipped as he climbed in beside her. It was then that she realized just how small a full-size mattress was when you were sharing it with someone like Oliver Queen.

He was staying on his side of the pillow wall, but even so she could still feel him there, right beside her, taking up the whole entire room the way he always did.

She'd never known someone with such a big presence. Sara came the closest, but even she couldn't compare to Oliver. When she was a kid, back before… everything, she used to admire him for it. That all he had to do was walk into a room and he was suddenly the center of attention. Then she'd learned that having all the attention you could ever want, mixed with a name like his and the kind of money that could get him out of anything… Well, it didn't make for the best impulse control in Oliver's case.

He adjusted, causing the pillow wall to shift a bit as he got comfortable. She laid there awkwardly, blinking into the darkened room and praying desperately to fall asleep. So of course she couldn't. The room was utterly silent except for their breathing, which only made everything so much more awkward.

"I'm not in love with Laurel." His whisper felt deafening in the darkness surrounding them. "Why does everyone think that? Even Tommy…" He took a breath, exhaled slowly. "Before he left, you know he asked me if I was going to be okay this weekend? Wanted to make sure I wasn't going to make a scene. Like what? Like I'd sleep with my best friend's bride at his wedding?"

Felicity wasn't trying to start a fight, she wasn't, but… "You have to admit there's some precedence there."

"Oh, what? With Max's fiancée?" His voice was louder now, almost incredulous. "That was different and I was drunk."

"What's to say you won't get drunk this weekend?" She was poking the bear, she knew it, she just couldn't seem to stop.

He was quiet for a long moment, so long she thought he might just be ignoring her.

"You know what?" he said, eventually. "You think I'm such a bad guy, Felicity, fine. I'll sleep in the fucking lobby."

He threw the blanket back, almost violently, and climbed out of bed. She might have let him go, had it not been for the sound of his voice, the almost… devastation she heard behind his words.

"Oliver, stop." She got to her knees, crawling across the mattress towards him. "Come on, stop!"

She reached out, grabbing his arm, wrapping her hand as far as she could around his bicep. He flinched away, but she reached out again, this time connecting with his wrist. She wrapped her fingers around his, tugging him back towards her with every ounce of strength she had.

And, for whatever reason, he let her.

He turned, breathing heavily as he looked down at her, his eyes tracking across her face, her lips. She was suddenly very aware of their position, of their lack of clothing. Of his hand, still held tightly in her own.

His heavy breaths against her skin as he stepped closer.

His free arm, reaching for her, wrapping around her waist as she knelt on the end of the bed. And then… then.

He was kissing her.

Like, kissing her.

She should have been mad. She should have pushed him away. Instead, she released his hand, reaching up and wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. Every ounce of tension she felt since they'd gotten to the hotel ratcheted up, but finally, finally she had an outlet for it. And she used it for all it was worth.

It was a stomach clenching, teeth gnashing kiss, and Felicity felt like she might explode if she didn't have more. Oliver was right there with her, though. He moved her backwards, leaning over her as she fell back to the mattress, her knees falling open so he could climb between them.

She didn't think, didn't dare to, as his hands crept up her sides, pulling her t-shirt with them. Or when her own hands began to push down his boxers. She just closed her eyes, letting the tension grow until she couldn't take it anymore.

It finally exploded in a ball of white light behind her eyelids, Oliver's heated breath on her cheek.

###

She was hot. So, so hot.

She kicked at the blanket, but her feet were caught in it and it didn't move as easily as she would have liked. With a grunt she attempted to sit up, but something was pinning her down. She blinked open her eyes and noticed a hand draped across her stomach.

Well, that was different.

For one brief moment, she wondered at what she'd gotten up to last night—the dull ache between her legs told her it must have been fun—but then she remembered. The plane, the blizzard, the hotel.

Oliver.

Oh.

He moved behind her, a soft, sleepy groan falling from his lips. His lips that were pressed against the back of her neck. Just behind her ear. He groaned again, pulling her tighter against him and she could feel him, hard against her lower back.

Oh, god.

"Oliver," she murmured frantically.

He moaned, pushing into her.

"Oliver!"

He froze, his arms stiffening around her as he woke.

"Felicity?" he asked hesitantly, as if he was scared of the answer.

"Can you… um?"

"Shit!" He pulled back like she'd burned him, diving off the bed. The bathroom door slammed a moment later and Felicity could finally breathe.

Holy shit. She'd had sex with Oliver.

Like, angry, lusty, hate sex. Good sex. Very good sex.

Felicity hadn't felt that good in a very long time. She glanced at the closed bathroom door, listening as the shower turned on, and wondered what would happen if she just… joined him.

No. She couldn't. Not with Oliver, even if it was just for sex reasons. He'd hurt her family and she was loyal to her family. Besides, Oliver was a jerk. He was a cheater and self absorbed, and constantly late, which was why they were in this predicament in the first place.

She shook her head, ridding it of any thoughts of Oliver, and reached for her sleep shirt which was hanging off the side of the bed. Shrugging it on, she got up and grabbed some clothes from her suitcase.

It was only another minute before the shower flicked off and Oliver was stepping back out into the room, a towel wrapped around his waist. His cheeks pinked when he noticed her.

"Hi. Sorry." He glanced down at his bare feet. "It's all yours."

"Okay." It was all she could manage without embarrassing herself. Not when he was standing there, mostly naked, water still glistening on his damp skin.

There was a brief, awkward moment where they couldn't seem to get out of each other's way, both moving right then left, before Oliver reached out, guiding her past him with a hand on her shoulder. She quickly made her way into the bathroom, closing the door behind her and falling against it.

She hoped the hot shower would be able to make her forget the feel of his hands on her, though something told her it wouldn't be as easy as that.

###

Aside from the awkward morning after, her day was going pretty well all things considered.

When she finally got out of the shower, Oliver was waiting with two cups of instant—bleh—coffee and news from the pilot. The weather was clear and they could take off within a few hours. The hotel manager called them a car and they were at the airfield in under an hour. She'd even called Laurel on the ride over to tell her the good news.

"Told you you'd make it in time."

Felicity had rolled her eyes, but was mostly just glad her sister was right. They'd still had to wait awhile before the plane was ready, but they got to wait on the plane, which was nice. Whatever her opinion on Oliver, his family had excellent taste in private jets. She'd reclined back in her soft, leather seat and tried to lose herself in a good book.

Tried.

Her mind, however, was more interested in replaying highlights from last night, rather than getting lost in the words. Flashbacks of Oliver's hands riding up under her sleep shirt, his lips on her neck, the feel of him hard against her thigh. She'd let that happen. Wanted it. Enjoyed it, even!

Enjoyed it quite a bit.

She squirmed in her seat, desperately avoiding turning back to look at him. He'd taken a seat near the back and hadn't said so much as boo since they'd gotten on the plane. Had he fallen asleep? She bet he was asleep. Casual sex was probably the norm for him. In fact, he'd probably think it was hilarious that she was even still thinking about it.

She glanced back and met his very blue, very open eyes. The kicked puppy look he gave her felt like a punch in the gut. Mostly because it looked a whole lot like regret.

She spun around, determined to ignore him. So he regretted sleeping with her, so what? She should regret sleeping with him!

Why didn't she regret sleeping with him?

She heaved a sigh, deciding it was awkward enough between them already. Might as well try to clear the air before the wedding. She stood, moving to take the seat across from him.

"Hey."

Oliver genuinely looked shocked she was even speaking to him. It might have been funny under different circumstances.

"Hey." He reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I'm really sorry about last night, Felicity. I…"

She held up a hand. "You seriously don't have to apologize. We're both consenting adults who were in desperate need of some stress relief. It happens."

Not to her. But to people, she was sure.

Oliver nodded, his eyes slipping shut for a moment as he took what sounded like a relieved breath. "I was afraid you'd hate me even more now."

"I don't hate you, Oliver. I... yeah, okay, I don't know if I'll ever truly forgive what you did to Laurel. It was really shitty, but… You were right. I don't hold it against Sara so I shouldn't still be holding it against you. I was just already so frustrated about work and you being late and possibly missing the wedding. But I don't hate you. Besides, the orgasms" —that's right, multiple!— "may have won you some brownie points."

He laughed, a mixture of amusement and relief lighting his face. "Oh, yeah?"

She pinched her thumb and finger together, teasingly. "Maybe just a little."

"If I'd known that I would have slept with you years ago."

He was teasing her, but it still caused a flush to creep over Felicity's face. She ducked her head, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"I'm sorry," he said and she glanced up, confused as to what he could be apologizing for now. "For being late. I didn't mean to be. I actually left for the airfield early, but…" He hesitated, clearing his throat. "I kind of freaked out a little on the way there and went to see my therapist instead."

"Oh, I didn't realize you…"

"Yeah, for the past few years. Since my dad…"

Since his dad died. Well, now she felt like crap.

"If you needed to see your therapist that's… That's a legitimate reason to be late. I'm sorr—"

"No," he cut her off, his voice firm. "It's on me. I told myself I was okay to go to the wedding, but…"

For one anxious moment she was certain he was about to tell her he was still in love with Laurel. For that split second her heart did an uncomfortable flip that she wasn't willing to think much about.

"I don't know" he continued, completely oblivious to her lurching heart. "Just thinking about facing Laurel and Sara and your whole family in the same room… And then Tommy asking me not to make a scene…" He looked up, meeting her eyes. "I don't feel good about what I did, Felicity. I know I'm a screw up. I self-destruct and I have a habit of taking other people with me. I wanted to make sure I was in a headspace so that didn't happen this weekend, but I shouldn't have waited until the last minute."

Oh.

He laughed humorlessly. "And then of course I go right ahead and do it anyway."

Tilting her head, she asked, "Should I be honored to be your chosen method of self destruction?"

"That's not what I meant," he corrected quickly, his eyes wide. "I didn't… Oh."

He shook his head with a small smile when he realized she was only teasing.

"I don't think last night was you self destructing, Oliver."

He raised a skeptical brow in her direction. "You think sleeping with my ex's stepsister the night before I have to stand up with her at said ex's wedding in front of their whole family—who hates me—wasn't me self destructing?"

Well, when he put it like that…

"Yeah, okay." She laughed, scratching lightly at her eyebrow. "Maybe that was a bad decision on our part. But, it doesn't have to ruin the whole weekend."

"No?"

His voice was low, rough... grateful and the sudden intensity of it nearly left Felicity breathless.

"No one has to know."

She'd meant it in a we-don't-need-to-make-a-big-deal-about-last-night kind of way, but the gravely, breathless quality in her voice made it seem almost like a proposition. He certainly thought so judging by the way his eyes darkened, his tongue darting out to skate over his bottom lip.

She squeezed her thighs together, trying not to squirm in her seat.

She wasn't stupid. There'd always been something… raw between them. Sara, jokingly, called it sexual tension, Felicity had always called it animosity. But now…

Maybe a friends—well, friends might be pushing it, but an acquaintances-with-benefits situation might not be terrible. For this weekend, anyway. It might be good for him, keep him from doing anything stupid. Well, stupider. And she certainly wouldn't be complaining, not if his performance last light was anything to go by. It was a win-win scenario in her book, so long as no one found out.

Oh, the hell with it.

She stood slowly, her eyes locking with his as she stepped closer. His eyes were wide, but filled with a heat that had her biting her lip.

"We could keep each other from… self destructing this weekend. If that's something you'd be interested in."

He reached out, taking her hand and guiding her closer, until she was standing between his open legs. He looked up at her, that heat turning molten.

"Or maybe we'll just self destruct together."

Maybe they would.

As he guided her into his lap, she was having a really hard time remembering why that might be a bad idea.