Author's Note:

Here we go, people. This is gonna be a bumpy ride. This one starts out rough, but you're going to love the end. (And probably the other way around for the next chapter). Hold on tight.

To Sacrifice the Sun

Chapter Fifteen

September 18, 2016

14:32

The Antechamber

So…that fantasy Felicity had? The one where she spent the entire hurricane naked in Oliver's arms, having wild passionate reunion sex?

Yeah, that didn't happen.

It was a stupid fantasy to begin with. Felicity shouldn't have allowed herself to indulge in such nonsense. It was more self-flagellation than anything else, getting her hopes up about something that was never gonna happen.

Because the idea that Oliver was still in love with her…ha! Not a chance! Over the last, oh…sixteen hours it had become abundantly clear that any positive feeling he had for Felicity was dead. Like poofed into ashes and spread to the wind dead.

And why shouldn't it be? Felicity had worked damn hard, five long years ago, to kill Oliver's love. Why should she be surprised now that it had worked?

Why should Oliver forgive her when Felicity had done the unforgivable? The way she had abandoned him without a word, let him believe the worst, it was indefensible.

And clearly, Oliver agreed.

But it hurt. It hurt so bad that sometimes Felicity had trouble breathing. Somehow, she thought maybe it hurt worse than it had five years ago. But she had been almost numb back then, dead inside.

Maybe Felicity had shut down so completely she had never fully grieved for…any of it.

Oliver. Their relationship. Future motherhood.

But the thing was, the thing that was just tying Felicity in knots, why hadn't Oliver just behaved this way in the first place?

If Oliver had been cold and distant from day one, from the first time Felicity had seen him on the beach, if he had been irritable and avoided being alone with her or anything resembling a personal conversation, she wouldn't have blamed him. She would have considered it her due but…

Felicity just couldn't wrap her head around why he had been so kind, why Oliver had pretended to still feel for her. Because all those times…the ballgame, the Temple of the Sun, breakfast, even when she woke from the bike crash…that man had really seemed to care for her. Even after everything.

The man who had flirted and made her a special batch of chili and called her 'Sunshine'…he liked her. He wanted to at least be friends. Felicity was certain of it.

Maybe.

Certain was a strong word.

Felicity wasn't certain of anything anymore.

But it really seemed like something had changed. So what happened? Where had her Oliver gone? What had Felicity done to scare him, or drive him, away?

Well, Felicity knew what she had done…like five years ago done. She just couldn't think of anything that she had done recently. She had wracked her mind forwards and backwards and upside down and, still, she couldn't understand it. None of it made sense.

The thought had occurred to her that maybe Oliver had pretended to still have feelings for her. To punish her. To lead Felicity along and leave her devastated, the way she had done to him all those years ago. That this was all an elaborate and cruel game. But…

Felicity just couldn't believe that. Oliver was still…Oliver. The man she had once known better than she knew herself. And leopards...or jaguars, as the case may be…they didn't change their spots. Who they were, deep down, was who they were.

Oh, Oliver had his faults. Plenty of them. And, at the moment, Felicity could list every single one. In vivid detail. But he wasn't…evil like that. And she didn't believe that anything that had happened in Russia could have damaged him that much. Could he be cruel when hurt? Yes. But in an impulsive, lashing-out way. Not in a slimy, manipulative way. She couldn't…wouldn't believe it.

But if that wasn't what was going on, then Felicity couldn't think what was. And that was why, instead of taking this as her just punishment, she was just…really pissed off.

Even if Oliver wasn't being an evil manipulative bastard, he was being an…asshole!

The mixed signals, they were really too much to take.

And, yeah, Felicity was well aware of how profoundly hypocritical that was but she…she was trying here. Also, she couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten a good night's sleep, so she might not be in the clearest state of mind.

She had tried multitudes of times (many, many multitudes of times) since they had been stuck in this beautiful torture chamber to clear the air. To apologize. For the past, for whatever she had done in the last twenty-four hours. To start a conversation that could and would lead to her telling him what really happened five years ago.

But as soon as the conversation turned the slightest bit personal. Or, heaven forbid, referenced the past, Oliver shut down so fast Felicity got whiplash.

Her neck was in constant pain from all the times she had tried. Felicity wasn't even exaggerating. That was definitely why her neck and shoulders hurt. It had nothing to do with the motorcycle crash she had been in just the day before. Or trying to sleep on solid limestone in a plastic bag.

Oh, Oliver would talk to her about the carvings, about the frescos, Mayan mythology, or the mission. Then he was perfectly pleasant. Well, maybe pleasant was an exaggeration. Oliver would at least talk about Kin Cuudad or HIVE or even the flavors of the freakin' protein bars. As if Felicity were any other agent. As if they hadn't once sworn they loved each other more than life itself and spent five years in hell because they were separated.

The flirting Oliver had engaged in before had gone the way of the dinosaurs. To the point where Felicity started to second guess whether it had ever happened in the first place.

Yup, if Felicity allowed Oliver to pretend they were merely colleagues he was fine. Fine fine fricken fine!

But anything else and Oliver became a bear. Pacing and grunting, lashing out randomly. And his promise to stop being grouchy…that hadn't lasted through the night.

Felicity had decided not to put her shirt back on after it dried (and it was ARGUS issue quick-dry, so it dried fast) for no other reason than it seemed to bother Oliver and she was feeling petty. (Though she was careful to keep her scars hidden. She wanted him annoyed by her nakedness, not by a reminder of Tikal).

The last two hours of the storm (well, the last two hours of the bad storm, because it was still raining) Oliver had sat at the top of the stairs and stared at the tarp in silence, waiting for the hurricane to pass so he could escape his prison.

That was how much Oliver couldn't stand being in the same room as her.

So, yeah, pretty much the exact opposite of Felicity's fantasies.

Felicity had gotten so frustrated that she considered throwing things at him. Or maybe, just yelling out, 'hey, you wanna know why I left five years ago? No? Well too fraking bad, I'm gonna tell you!'

But knowing her, Felicity was pretty sure she'd say something like, 'Hey, wanna know what organs I had removed after Shadowspire shot me?' or better yet, 'It's a good thing you hate me, because remember those kids you wanted so badly, your never gonna have them with me!'

And really, that would not only be humiliating but…Felicity couldn't imagine a scenario where that wouldn't end up even worse than the way things were now.

Felicity had rehearsed this. She wanted to tell Oliver in a very careful manner. This was very delicate. But the more unreasonable Oliver acted, the less delicate Felicity felt. And, honestly, there were times when she even questioned if he even had the right to know the big…boob!

Though maybe what Oliver was trying to tell her was that he didn't want to know. Maybe just spending time with Felicity had been the closure he'd needed to know he was well and truly over her. Except he was suck with her for the duration of the mission. But after that…

Well, if that was it…and, god, it hurt to breathe just thinking those thoughts…if that was what was going on in Oliver's head Felicity just wished he would say so instead acting like an irrational, unreasonable…asshat!

Unreasonable, like waiting until the winds just started to die down, the rain at a 20-degree angle and not at 70-degree angle, to decide it was an excellent time to go hunting. Yes, her sweet idiotic Oliver decided he needed to go hunting.

Hunting!

Because they had been stuck in there for a whole, oh…twenty-four fricken hours! With enough protein bars to last two weeks (that wasn't an exaggeration), plus the fruit Oliver gathered. And, yes, this was with Felicity taking into consideration his large frame…

But apparently, they needed fresh game. And it was dire enough that Oliver needed to brave the tail-end of hurricane. Clearly, they were going to waste away without fresh meat.

Just thinking about it made Felicity so…ahhhh! She wanted to throw something.

But the only thing Felicity had at hand was her precious tablet and she wasn't that far gone. Oh crap…

Glancing down at the device in her hands Felicity realized…dear god, Oliver had been gone over an hour!

Frak this!

She was going just as stir crazy in this box as Oliver was. Felicity was tired (had she mentioned she wasn't sleeping well?), cranky, and covered in sweat and dust and grime, not to mention scrapes and bruises. She'd only been out to pee once since they'd found this place and…

Felicity was done. Sooo done.

Letting out a grunt-slash-growl that would have made Jungle Green Arrow proud, Felicity grabbed their pathetic excuse for a toiletry kit and hoisted herself to her cramped and wobbly feet. If Oliver could get the hell out of here and go into the jungle, then so could she!

She pulled out her ponytail holder and threw it onto her sleeping bag. Felicity hesitated a moment before deciding to leave her glasses behind. Though, she did grab a pen tranq first. She left her boots (she had no desire to get them wet again) and brought her dirty socks (because she had an extra pair in her day bag. Everyone knew that clean, dry socks could save your life).

Felicity also kept a pair of clean panties with her socks. Most female agents did. They didn't take up a lot of room and it was amazing how much a clean pair helped morale.

Outside, the rain was coming down in a steady stream. But it was warm. It would be perfect for a shower. And exactly what Felicity needed to…clear her head. Well, maybe, not clear it, her head was a fraking mess, but even if it just took the edge off that would be pretty damn wonderful.

She tried to look around for Oliver, but it wasn't like she could see far without her glasses (she was lucky she could see two feet in front of her face), but she didn't expect him back any time soon. Felicity couldn't imagine that game was plentiful during a hurricane, even if it was the end, and if he wasn't back by now…clearly, he wasn't coming back until he found something.

Besides, Felicity fully expected Oliver to milk any excuse he could find to be away from her as long as possible.

Felicity relieved herself behind a tree, not too far from the entrance of the chamber, but stepped back into the open to brush her teeth. She felt better already. She only wanted to throw her toothbrush at Oliver, not the largest rock she could find.

Using the soap, she washed her socks and shorts, throwing them over a bush and hoping that would keep them from getting filthy again right away. Felicity washed her hair…violently was probably the word. But she had an excess of tension and angry energy built up and this was a healthier way than most to burn it off.

Felicity wondered who she was most angry at? Herself? God? Fate? Oliver? She never would have imagined that he would have even made the list after what she had done to him. But there he was. At the very top of the list of who Felicity wanted to rage at.

Maybe if she could think rationally, she would realize that it still wasn't fair to blame Oliver, but right now, Felicity had a ball of…something inside her that was about to explode and she was quite certain that was all Oliver's fault. Fair or not, she was furious with him.

That was probably why, after she washed her hair (with a bar of soap, which would undoubtedly leave it looking like complete crap), Felicity said 'frak it' and peeled off first her bra, then her panties.

Washing both pieces of clothing as she had her socks and shorts, Felicity gave herself one last, heavenly once over with their precious soap. The warm rain was finally starting to relax her and that had to be worth—

"Felicity!"

The horror (and volume) of Oliver's voice had Felicity instinctively jumping and crossing her arms to cover her body. As if this was a bad soap opera. Should gasp she out an 'Oh,' as well?

Goddamn it.

"What the hell are you doing!?"

Felicity narrowed her eyes. Well, so much for finally relaxing. All the tension sprang right back into her muscles and then some. She felt shame, on reflex from the reprimanding tone in Oliver's voice. But, more than that, she felt ashamed at being ashamed. At acting like a startled doe in the forest.

God, how Felicity wished she had been able to greet Oliver with her head held high and a droll eyebrow. Proud and confident.

But predominately, maybe even because of that, Felicity felt anger. Mustn't forget the anger. Not when there was so very much of it. Actually Felicity couldn't remember the last time she had felt this much rage.

Once upon a time, Oliver would have found finding her showering in the rain arousing. Enchanting even. But now all she could see on his face…well, actually she couldn't see his face. Actually, he just looked like a big hulking blur.

But his voice…Oliver's voice held nothing but horror and…disgust. And it made Felicity want to start…tearing something into little pieces. Or someone. Preferably, a very specific someone.

Felicity made a decision. Not to be ashamed. To be strong and proud and…

Not confident, exactly. But to at least have the veneer of confidence. Very deliberately she dropped her arms. Then, straightening up, she turned her back on Oliver. Not to hide from him. To reject…well, not Oliver himself, she wouldn't go that far…but his behavior.

Felicity rejected Oliver's behavior. So there. With a flick of her hair and chin high, she refused to let him treat her like…like rubbish.

But it was harder to ignore Oliver's indrawn breath and the way her nipples hardened in response. Her stupid, traitorous body. In that moment, Felicity wished her libido was just a little bit broken the way she had once feared it was. If Oliver didn't want her, she didn't want to want him.

Before Oliver noticed the impact, he'd had on her body (and, hey, it could totally be because of the cold. If it was cold) and ruined the entire effect, Felicity snapped, "What do you think I'm doing?"

Felicity thought she heard Oliver gurgle. In rage or whatever. Certainly not desire. No, heaven forbid, Oliver feel any desire for her. Little skinny awkward Felicity. She wasn't sure what he saw in her all those years ago but, clearly, he no longer found her attractive. The arrogant bastard.

Even though she was done washing, Felicity very deliberately started again, washing her body slowly and keeping her eyes away from him. It was all for effect, since she couldn't see his reaction.

Oliver sputtered. Felicity could hear the undignified sound over the rain and it gave her some satisfaction, at least.

"Fe-lic-it-y…" Oliver growled. "This is fucking insanely dangerous! What the hell do you think you are doing…flaunting yourself out here?"

"Really, Oliver?" Felicity said, her voice as condescending as his was. Maybe even more so. She was rather proud of how well she managed it. "Because if it's safe enough out here for you to go traipsing around for hours—"

"I'm—I'm not naked, Felicity!"

"I don't think the tree the wind pulled out of the ground to knock you over your hard head cares what you're wearing!?" Okay, her irritation was showing. Clearly Felicity was done pretending everything was fine.

Actually, Felicity was done pretending all together. At her limit. End of the road. Done. Done. Done!

Oliver growled. Even louder this time. "There are wild animals out here, if you haven't noticed. I have a bow and arrow. You can't even see two feet in front of you!"

Those were all very valid points. And...frak Oliver for making them!

"I brought a tranq gun," Felicity said as nonchalantly as possible, just because she figured it would drive Oliver nuts. And she wanted him to feel as nuts as she did in that moment.

"Arrhh!" Oliver let out this howl of frustration and it took everything Felicity had not to react. Then he hissed, "I'm going to go over there and pluck this fucking bird." She hadn't even noticed he was carrying anything but, yeah, big hulking blur. "Just…finish up, get back in the shelter, and put something on before I get down there! Please!"

Well, since he said 'please'…

Felicity rolled her eyes but had no idea if Oliver saw because the blur stomped off, managing to do it loud enough for her to hear, even though it sounded more like sludging through the mud than stomping.

By the time he was out of sight (not that that was saying much given her vision issues) Felicity was sputtering she was so angry. "That was the prissiest thing you have ever said, Oliver Queen!" she yelled after him.

And wasn't that the best come back ever? The delay made it extra witty. Awesome. She was just sooo cool. Frak, Felicity hated her life.

Afterwards, any enjoyment Felicity had in her make-shift shower was pretty much nil. And since she had washed herself twice now (using way too much of their limited soap supply), she grabbed her stuff and carefully took the steps back down into the antechamber. She was too pissed to be worried about falling down the stairs so that, at least, was a plus.

Felicity did take pleasure in the fact that she went down naked as the day she was born. She had no desire to put on wet clothing just to wear them in that dusty room and get them all grimy again. Also putting anything on would make her feel like she was giving in to Oliver and…hell to the no!

She hung her wet clothes on the wire and pulled on her now dry t-shirt (no bra. Take that, Mr. Priss! She hoped it made him good and uncomfortable) and put on her clean panties. They were boy-shorts so…slightly more modest. Though, in her present mood she almost wished they were thongs…no, that would be going too far. Felicity wanted to make him uncomfortable, not come off as a desperate ex trying to seduce him.

Oliver took long enough that she was able to pull out her photo of the old Door (the one that had disappeared underground) and spread it out in front of the new Door. Felicity settled herself on her bedroll so she could at least pretend to be working when he got back.

It wasn't too much longer before Oliver did, stomping down the stairs like a petulant child, a scowl on his face (which she could see clearly now that she had her glasses on). When he saw Felicity, he froze.

Ha! Take that, asshole!

"What the fuck, Felicity?!"

Immediately, she stiffened. Because even at their worst, Felicity didn't think he had ever spoken to her like that. She wondered if she had gone too far.

But Felicity was not backing down now. In for a penny, in for a pound.

Throwing what she hoped passed for an innocent look over her shoulder, Felicity batted her eyelashes and asked, "What?"

Oliver's eyes narrowed and she thought one of them actually twitched. Felicity would swear she saw steam coming out of his ears, but that was probably just her overactive imagination.

"That!" he growled, gesturing to her clothing. Or lack thereof.

What Felicity felt in that moment…yeah, that was rage. Pure. Beautiful. Unadulterated. Rage.

"Since when are you such a fraking prude? This is field work, Oliver. We don't worry about modesty in the field. My clothes are wet," she annunciated every word as if she were talking to a moron. Felicity knew damn well she was pushing every one of his buttons and she didn't care. In fact, she relished it. "What would putting back on wet clothes accomplish, pray tell?"

All Felicity got for her trouble was another grunt. No…that was a growl. Oliver turned away and threw his dead bird onto the firewood (the still wet firewood). He unbuckled his quiver (carefully, because that was something he actually cared about) and took off his own shirt (violently), wringing it out and throwing it over the wire in a messy clump.

Felicity could see Oliver's jaw clenching and unclenching out of the corner of her eye as she pretended to pour over her tablet. Then the muttering started.

"Mother…fucking…respect..."

Okay, now her blood was really boiling.

"What was that?" Felicity asked in the fakest sweet tone that had ever crossed her lips.

But Oliver just shook his head. He continued to mutter under his breath but it was harder to make out the words. And maybe that just mad Felicity all the angrier. Hell, it seemed that everything he did just made her more and more furious.

By this point, Felicity was jonesing for a fight and her self-control was at an all-time low.

"I see you brought a dead thing inside to share our space with us," Felicity commented nastily.

When had she become nasty? Sometimes, Felicity wasn't sure she even recognized herself.

"You mean our dinner?" and, wow, Oliver could match her ugly tone pretty well.

Felicity kept her face angled away from him, so it at least looked like she was focusing on her work. "Only if you plan to eat it raw, since I'm pretty sure that wood is too wet to light."

There was a moment of silence. Then Oliver must have touched the kindling and realized the same thing because he muttered, "Fuck," under his breath.

Felicity won that round. So really, she should have let it go at that. Let sleeping dogs…or more accurately, rabid beasts lie, but she never did know what was good for her.

"You see, as much as you seem to think we've been stuck here for weeks, it's actually only been a little over twenty-four-hours."

And then the muttering. Again…

"It feels like a month."

Okay. Felicity couldn't stand it! Not one more fraking minute!

She shoved herself to her feet and rounded on Oliver. "What the hell is up with you?!"

And Oliver's eyes, his angry intense blue eyes, dragged over her body with so much heat that it made her nipples tight and her brand-new panties damp…

O….kay…

So…maybe Oliver wasn't as unaffected by her physically as Felicity had presumed.

What was that they said about presuming. Or was it assuming? Either way…it looked like Felicity had been wrong. Her whole internal freak-out where she had decided Oliver wasn't attracted to her any more…yeah, that didn't seem to be the case.

Because that look…it might be furious, but it was anything but uninterested.

Oliver stood, wearing only his damp cargo shorts, flushed and panting and…Felicity knew, like deep in her soul knew that he still wanted her. Sexually at least. An almost primal desire was coming off him in waves. And her body was reacting to it. Whether she wanted it to or not.

And, dear god, Oliver was unfairly gorgeous in his rage. His fists were clenched, bringing the veins in his arms into definition. Suddenly, Felicity was short of breath. And, this time, it wasn't from anger.

And now…

Felicity had no idea what to do. She had started this is righteous indignation and…one look in those lust darkened eyes and she was hurled off course. Not that she was on a particularly clear course to begin with but…

Oliver was still clearly angry. Just because he wanted her didn't mean he wanted to be with her. Otherwise why would he keep leaving? Did knowing he still desired her change everything? Or did it change nothing?

"What is wrong with me!?" Oliver demanded and…well, maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to bait him. Because it was starting to become clear that under that carefully controlled veneer, he was so much angrier than Felicity was. And that was saying something. "What about you?"

"I'm reacting to you!" Felicity yelled back, trying to reconnect with that rage she felt before his eyes made her all confused and…anger was so much cleaner. "Ever since we got into this damn room you've been treating me like a leper. Like you can't stand to be alone with me!" And saying it out loud…emotion choked her and Felicity was afraid she would cry. Did she really want to hear him say this out loud?

"I can't stand to be around you!?" Oliver was really yelling now. He rarely lost control, but he was close. Frighteningly close. What was wrong with Felicity that a part of her wanted to know what would happen if he did? "That's rich, considering the lengths you've gone to to get away from me!"

Felicity reeled back at that one. It hurt because it was so true. She took a breath. Maybe she needed to stop and remember that no matter what, she hurt Oliver first.

"Okay," Felicity said more calmly, her anger draining away whether she wanted it to or not. "Maybe I deserved that, but that was five years ago and—"

"It wasn't just five years ago!" Oliver interrupted, the vein in his temple throbbing. "You ran from me at the beach. Our teammates had to force you to speak with me! Clearly, you don't want anything to do with me!" Pain poured from him with each word and it cut deep.

"That is absolutely not true!" Felicity argued, not sure anymore who she was trying to make feel better. "It's very clear that I've wanted to be around you—"

"Clear to who?!" Oliver roared.

Felicity flinched. Maybe she deserved that as well. She had been trying so hard to be open with him, but…she knew some of her actions and words must have been hard to understand, easily confused, especially considering all the information Oliver didn't have.

"I thought we were…" Felicity blew out a breath. She didn't even know what she was trying to say anymore. "I thought we were moving past all that. I thought we were trying to be…" What? She knew what she wanted but looking at Oliver she had no idea what he wanted. "Friends or…"

And Felicity was a coward on top of everything else.

"Is that what you want? To be friends?" And the way Oliver said 'friends'…it sounded like a fate worse than death.

Felicity didn't know what to say, how to begin to interpret his words. Her thoughts were going in a dozen different directions at once and her eyes were burning. Everything she said seemed to come out wrong.

"I don't…" Felicity's loud voice was long gone. "If that's what you want?"

"Since when do you care about what I want!?"

And, wow, now Oliver was getting nasty. And Felicity couldn't even blame him for it. Not anymore.

"Since always—"

"That's a lie—"

"It's not!" And there was Felicity's loud voice again. But now…now, Oliver was just being ridiculous. And stupid and…mean.

And it was not true. Felicity had always cared what Oliver wanted. Always. She had loved him more than anything. Still did.

Oliver pulled back a little and took a deep breath, his shoulders stiff and his eyes, oh yeah, still blazing. "Well, I want to know what you want, Felicity? What. Do. You. Want?"

Frak…okay…Felicity hadn't expected Oliver to ask that. But now that he did…it really looked like she was going to have to answer.

How did Felicity even begin to put it into words? What right did she have to say it out loud with all the secrets still between them? But what right did she have to deny Oliver the answer to a simple question?

Yet it was anything but simple, wasn't it? And Felicity had promised herself she would only ever tell him the truth, from here on in.

"I want…" Felicity looked into Oliver's eyes and saw the anger but also the hurt and knew she put it there. She drew up her shoulders and said, "I want you…" Her voice trembled and she took a shaky breath as she took in Oliver's shocked expression and prayed for courage. "I want you in my life. Any way I can have it."

Did he look disappointed…? Oh, Felicity hoped not, but Oliver…he definitely looked confused. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and she rubbed them away angrily.

"I know I don't deserve that…or anything really but…" Felicity remembered how things had been between them back at Palenque and felt such longing that the words came. "I may not deserve it, but if you want to know what I want…well, I want my Oliver back. I thought I saw him in Palenque. I thought…but he went away again and I don't know why and I…"

Felicity trailed off when Oliver squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away, his jaw working.

Silence followed. Long and excruciating and Felicity didn't think she could stand it…

"Say something!" she burst out, unable to hold it in. There may be a million things that she hadn't said (yet) but Felicity still felt like she was laying her soul bare and…why wasn't he answering her? "Anything!"

Oliver dragged a hand over his face before he finally turned his eyes back to hers. "I don't know what to say. I still don't know what you want from me—"

And Felicity didn't know how to be clearer. "I—"

Shaking his head, Oliver stilled her with a raised hand. "You…you say you want me. But how? Felicity, how do you want me?"

His voice raised with each word and...they made her heart, and somewhere deep inside she long forgotten, clench. Felicity opened her mouth to respond, but Oliver kept talking.

"Do you want to be colleagues, partners, friends? I…I thought I might be able to, but I…I don't know if I can give you any of that. I thought, back at Palenque…I think, I thought the same thing. Anything I could get. I just wanted you back in my life," Oliver whispered the last words and they made hope burst inside her…but the look on his face was still so devastated. "I tried to pretend the last five years didn't happen and…"

Oliver's eyes…his beautiful lost eyes fully connected with Felicity's and it took her breath away. She wanted to yell, 'Yes! Yes! Let's pretend that!' though it was absurd and stupid and would never work and—

"But we can't pretend it didn't happen," Oliver murmured, his voice so full of grief. "I can't, anyway, and…and I don't think I can be your friend, Felicity."

"That's—"

Okay. That's o-kay. That wasn't what she wanted anyway. Felicity wanted so much more than friendship.

She tried to reassure him but Oliver wouldn't let her interrupt. He just kept talking as if Felicity hadn't even spoken. "Do you want to know what changed since Palenque? Why I've been such a…such a grouch?"

Oliver was silent a good 30 seconds before Felicity realized that, this time, he actually wanted her to speak.

"Yes."

It was a mere whisper of a sound. All she could get out. God, Felicity was terrified of the answer.

"I spent nine hours…nine hours, Felicity," Oliver stepped closer as he spoke, his voice low but intense, "with the woman who…." He blew out a breath and looked away. "Did you know I've never wanted another woman as much as I wanted…want you?"

His words were a sword, piercing straight to her soul and Felicity gasped, a rush of arousal washing over her so strong that it left her trembling. The only response she could give was to shake her head.

"Of course not," Oliver rasped. "You never believed me, even when I told you…" He drew himself up, taking a step back and Felicity both hated it and was relieved, because it allowed her space to breathe. "I spent nine hours on a motorbike not made for the goddamn jungle, racing through the goddamn jungle, in a hurricane, with the woman I…who I can't have—"

"That's not—"

Again, Oliver wouldn't let her correct him. "…who ripped my heart out and who still I want…"

There was an ugly fierceness to Oliver's last words and he turned away. Felicity wondered if he saw her press her hand to her mouth to muffle the sob.

"…who I almost killed in a crash—"

"You didn't!" Felicity managed to find her broken voice for that.

But even then, Oliver didn't acknowledge her. "Wrapped around me…her arms…her legs, her…her hand on my skin…" He shuddered and his breath hissed. He turned his hard stare back to Felicity and asked, "Doo you know what I thought about for those nine fucking hours, Felicity?!"

Again, all she could do was shake her head. And, this time, Felicity really wasn't sure she wanted the answer.

"Not the road. Or the jaguars. Or, Christ, Damian Darhk. Not my best friends who were captured or injured or dying…" Oliver let out a growl and Felicity tried not to flinch. "I thought…I tried to figure out what the fuck is going on in your head!"

With his last angry bark, Oliver leveled Felicity with a stare that shook her to the core. He stopped talking then. He wanted an answer. But an answer to what? What was in her head? As if she fraking knew!

Oliver shook his head at her. He looked disappointed at Felicity's lack of response, but before she could figure out what to say, what he wanted her to say, he was talking again…well, yelling really, "First you run from me on the beach. Then you seek me out at Palenque. You want to talk to me. Then you don't want to be alone with me. So I think you've been through a lot. I just need to go slow and see if there's anything still there…and it seems like there is—"

"Yes."

Oliver turned to her and he looked as shocked by her admission as Felicity was. When he continued, it was with slightly less venom. "Then…then I think things are going well. Felicity…"

His eyes plead with her and Felicity nodded, tears falling, trying to show him…trying to agree or…she didn't know what she was trying to convey. Only that, yes, things had been going well. Could they go back there? Please?

"Then I try to kiss you and you completely freak out!" Oliver threw up his hands, showing none of the patience he had showed at the time.

And, yup, she'd known that was going to come back to bite her on the ass. Felicity squeezed her eyes shut. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm just much a mess—"

"So you said!" But Oliver didn't seem very sympathetic anymore. "I tried to tell myself it wasn't a big deal. Then…then I did kiss you and you didn't kiss me back."

Felicity's eyes flew back open. What? No! That wasn't fair. "I didn't have a chance. I was…we were…"

"Yeah, well, we didn't have time for anything, until…I don't want to argue about the crash again." Oliver ran his hand over his face, shaking his head. "Then came the nine hours. You know, I had a lot of theories as to why you…left me."

And the pain in those last two words...it was too much for Felicity. But she deserved it. That and more.

"And nine hours is plenty of time to revisit every single one of them. And still, after all that time…nine hours and five years—"

"Five years, three months, fourteen days…no, yesterday it would have been thirteen—"

"See!" Oliver broke into Felicity's tearful recitation, his hands again out in a helpless confused gesture. "I don't get you. Who…who does that? Who counts the days, when…when you were the one who left, Felicity. Without a word. Without a way to get in touch with you. You wouldn't let me near you—"

"I know. I just…" Felicity didn't know what to say. This conversation had spiraled completely out of her control and she was feeling…shell shocked in the face of everything she had done to him. She knew she had hurt him, but to hear it out loud…

"Just what, Felicity?" Oliver's eyes were haunted. He ran his hand through his hair, pulling at the ends. "When you left…it didn't make sense. Because the Felicity I knew, that I loved wouldn't do that. Suddenly, nothing made sense anymore. My Felicity wouldn't do that. Nothing made sense—"

"Oliver…" Felicity pleaded. Panic seized her chest but instead of wanting to run, she wanted to…needed to say something to fix this. This needed to be fixed. She didn't know if she could stand it if it wasn't. But this also…really, really wasn't how she wanted to start her story. But how could she avoid it now?

"So, I figured it must be something I did. That you blamed me for Tikal. That you finally realized I was no good for you." Oliver kept talking, with no idea the real reason was on the tip of Felicity's tongue. "I preferred that, you know? Because if that was what happened, it meant that our entire relationship wasn't a lie."

"It wasn't!" Felicity was really crying now. She needed to correct him, but it was so complicated. She needed Oliver to pause for a moment and give her a chance to gather her thoughts.

"But then you swore to me it wasn't my fault." Oliver almost seemed like he was in his own world now. Dazed. "So I began to think that maybe…maybe that last night…and trust me, I re-lived that night a million times. Replayed it, looking for what went wrong. I thought maybe I pushed too much. That I pressured you for more than you were ready—"

"That wasn't it!" Felicity was shaking her head frantically by this point. How could Oliver even think that? All their beautiful plans. Sure, she had been nervous, but…to think she didn't want that.

"Then what is it?" Oliver finally turned and looked at her again, really looked at her. His eyes were desperate again. Wild even. "Because the only other explanation I can come up with is you were lying all along. That I never knew you. That you were never the woman I thought you were. And then I have to question everything we ever were to one another—"

"No. No!" Not that. Please not that!

"That you never really loved me." Oliver's quiet words were worse than the yelling.

"No!" Felicity screamed it this time. Because there had never been anything so false. "No! How can you even question—?"

"How can I not?" Oh god, was Oliver going to cry? Felicity couldn't stand it. "You left without a word and ever since you've been back…every time I think I have a hold on what's going on in your head, you…nothing you do makes sense."

"That's not true." Though Felicity wasn't even sure what he was referring to. "You knew me…still know me better than anyone."

It was true. No one in her life had ever known her like Oliver Queen. God, Felicity missed that. And these last few days, she had thought…had felt how well he still knew her. Knew the real her.

"I thought I did." Oliver's voice was rising again. "But you don't make sense. First, you don't want to be near me. Then I think you still love me but, no, maybe you just want to be friends. It's push pull and…the Felicity I thought I knew doesn't play games."

"It's not a game!"

"Then what is…this…" Oliver waved a hand at Felicity's shirt and legs…her very naked legs. "Walking around here half-naked. That…stunt outside! Do you have any idea how hard it is to not touch you!?"

Then why didn't he? But instead of saying that (wisely, Felicity believed), she drew herself up and said as clearly and as bravely as she could, "Yes. I think I know exactly what that is like."

Felicity met Oliver's eyes and deliberately tried to be as open as possible. He deserved that much and…she hadn't figured out what words would convince him how wrong he was but she hoped her eyes could.

He stopped. Oliver stopped and stared deep into her eyes. And his were open and vulnerable and searching.

Finally, Oliver took a broken breath, his tongue sneaking out to wet his lips. "I want to believe you—"

"Then believe me…" Felicity pleaded, taking a somehow both tentative and desperate step forward. "I never lied to you! Not once—"

Oliver scoffed, starting to turn away. "Now, I know you're lying—"

Felicity caught his arm, stopping him. "Never!" she yelled it, as if the volume alone would convince Oliver of the truth. And, yeah, she knew rationally this was not the way to get her point across, but her heart was pounding and the tears were pouring and she was seconds away from breaking down in sobs. "I don't even think I am capable of lying to you."

If Felicity could just find the right words to explain. That was why she hid from him all those years ago…

Oliver closed his eyes, shaking his head. Felicity knew he didn't believe her and she desperately searched for a way to make him.

When Oliver opened his eyes again, it was with such a look of raw pain. "Really? Because I remember, very clearly, you promising me always and forever." And, oh wow, that cut to the quick. "Obviously, that was a lie—"

"It wasn't!" Felicity cut him off fiercely. With a firm head shake of her own.

The laugh that emerged from Oliver's throat was ugly as he scrubbed his hand over his face. Again. His voice shook when he accused, "You left!"

How did Felicity even begin to explain how the two weren't mutually exclusive? "I didn't promise that I would stay always and forever. I knew that I couldn't promise we would be together forever. That was out of my control…"

It was very clear that Oliver wasn't buying this. His eyes narrowed and he was looking angry again and so confused…

Felicity needed to fix this. So she yelled, "I promised to love you always and forever! That was my promise!"

Another confused noise escaped Oliver's mouth. "What…?"

"And I didn't lie and…" Felicity swiped away the tears, almost defiantly, and she drew herself up as tall as she could on her bare feet. She was laying herself open here and she had never felt more vulnerable. "And I never broke that promise."

"I…"

Oliver started to speak but…then he froze. His face went through a rapid series of what must have been a dozen different emotions. Felicity couldn't keep up with them all. She was having trouble even grasping what she had said herself. What she had admitted. All she could do was stare at him and…

Then Oliver muttered, "Fucking hell."

After that…

It happened so fast Felicity really didn't see it coming. Oliver picked her up and pushed her against the wall hard enough to knock the breath out of her.

Then Oliver's lips were on hers.

And all Felicity could think was…thank god!

Author's Note:

So that happened. There is a definitely Kleenex and Red Wine warning with Chapter 16 (and 17 for that matter).

All my love and thanks to these three ladies, Ireland1733,Fairytalehearts, and imusuallyobsessed. I made them go through these chapters multiple time in my obsessiveness and poor Ireland1733 went through a whole box of Kleenex.

Happy Reading,

Emmy