I apologize. I've been updating these chapters to the latest version and I accidentally put the wrong story in for a few of them. :-/ It is fixed now.

Thank you to OldestOne30 for letting me know!

Author's note:

Trigger warnings for cannon-type violence, a little more graphic than typical CW (Maybe Fox level. Nowhere near HBO) and some brief non-consensual groping.

To Sacrifice the Sun

Chapter Eighteen

September 18, 2016
18:11
The Antechamber
Lacandon Rainforest, Mexico

Well, at least now Felicity knew it wasn't a dream.

Then again, Felicity'd had plenty of perfectly lovely dreams involving Oliver and most of them took a horrific turn very much like this and—

"My quiver!"

Right.

Crisis mode. Probably not the time to contemplate her various dream types.

Ghosts were swarming through the entrance to the antechamber. The entrance that was also the exit, effectively trapping Oliver and Felicity inside. The enemy combatants held weapons (pretty scary looking weapons), but they weren't shooting.

Thank god. Otherwise they'd already be dead, fish in a barrel as they were. Their orders must be to capture not kill. They needed information about Kin Cuudad.

Little did HIVE know, just by stepping in this room they had almost everything ARGUS had.

Oliver, on the other hand, held no such compulsions about not killing and he let an arrow fly. Before Felicity could even get herself together enough to take in the situation and grab his quiver, he had shot the first Ghost in the neck, where their armor was thinner, and the operative went down.

But the others still didn't pause. And they still didn't lift their weapons. They just kept coming.

Apparently, their objective was more important than their lives. What did Darhk have over these guys?

Felicity, somehow, managed to hold Oliver's quiver up in time for him to grab the next arrow. She crouched behind him and held it in place, where it usually rested between his shoulder blades, as she tried to figure out if it was worth taking the time to try and strap it around his chest.

The fight had that almost slow-motion quality to it and Felicity knew that meant everything was happening incredibly fast and her brain was just allowing her to take in every microsecond.

Because every microsecond counted.

Her knuckles were pressed against Oliver's warm back and Felicity could feel the powerful play of his muscles as he let the arrows fly, one after another, with a speed and precision that was as dizzying as it was comforting.

But Felicity needed to do something more than stand there (or crouch there if she wanted to be precise) and be a human quiver. She needed to get to a gun….no a tranq. Because no guns. Guns caused cave-ins.

Was that why the Ghosts weren't shooting? Were they that smart? Damian Darhk was. And he probably cared more about this chamber than the wellbeing of his foot soldiers.

If Felicity could just get the right grip to strap on the quiver, then…though, at this rate, Oliver was going to run out of arrows before she had a chance. Or—

Space.

They ran out of space.

There were too many of them and not enough arrows and the armored men just kept coming, stepping overor shoving aside the dead or wounded. With absolutely no regard for their brothers-in-arms.

And then the Ghosts were on top of them.

God. It was insane how much could happen inside of a minute. It couldn't have been more than that before a Ghost was close enough to grab Oliver's bow.

Maybe Felicity should have counted the arrows. Twelve arrows a minute. That was how many Oliver could fire. On average, anyway. He had done better.

The Ghost reached out to snatch the bow, which was rather stupid because, of course, Oliver was ready. He only allowed the operative to get a decent grip on the thing to use him as leverage so Oliver could throw the intruder over his…their shoulders.

It was a good thing Felicity still seemed to be as in sync with Oliver as she always had been. She rolled to the side as he flipped backward, taking the Ghost off balance and snapping his neck. Then Oliver was back on his feet and fighting before the dead man could hit the ground.

Felicity felt that tickle of fear. The panic. The well-warn PTSD. All off it in the back of her head, trying to push forward and overwhelm her. To send her into a cowering heap. And…

Fuck that!

And fuck Darhk and his goddamn minions for interrupting what would have been undoubtedly the best reunion sex known to humankind!

These Ghosts could burn in hell and frak if Felicity wasn't going to help light the match.

Felicity had something to live for now and she would be damned it she was going to let these masked freaks take that from her. From them!

She was well aware that Oliver was doing his best to keep them away from her. And his best was damned impressive. He was holding his own with…like five Ghosts. He fought like a wild animal…no, not a wild animal. No animal had that much skill and precision, no matter how graceful they were.

But Felicity was a trained agent too and even if she had been underground for half a decade, she was not going to stand there like a goddamn damsel in distress.

When, inevitably, a Ghost went to grab her, Felicity went limp and let out a terrified squeal.

It was muscle memory. Instinct really. A reaction practiced until it was automatic.

If someone grabbed Sara or Lyla or Oliver, for that matter, they each had a handful of defensive moves that came to them as easy as breathing. Cait and Felicity…they had their own move. They had perfected the Squeal and Faint.

Felicity and Caitlin had learned long ago that their best play was to act like a helpless science-type. With no fighting skills of their own. Their true skills were far from insignificant, but in their world, they were mediocre at best. But ARGUS mediocre was still damn good, especially when their opponents thought they had none at all.

Felicity just hoped Oliver recognized the (very affected) squeal for what it was. He should. He'd helped her perfect it years ago (a task that was accompanied by much laughter), but all she hoped for, at this point, was that it didn't distract him from fighting. That was something they could not afford.

It didn't seem to. Oliver stayed focused on the three men he was currently engaged in, not her. At least not visibly.

The Ghost with his hands on Felicity also seemed more focused on the fighting than her. As evidenced by how easy it was for her hand to close around a pen dart.

Then again, Felicity was pretty damn good at being sneaky when she wanted to be.

She flailed. In a way Felicity knew was completely ineffectual. That was if her goal was to get away. Now, if her goal was to distract and lower her captor's expectations…it worked like a charm.

The Ghost holding Felicity wrapped his arms around her from behind, one arm banded around her waist, the other grabbing her face. It made her skin crawl, even though all she could really feel was rough canvas and leather.

"Stop!" Mr. Head Asshole (because Felicity had decided the one to grab her must be the one in charge) barked, his voice distorted and almost robotic through his mask.

The tableau froze. There were only three other Ghosts left. Felicity didn't bother to look around to count the bodies on the floor. Oliver had one of the remaining men by the neck and he was seconds away from snapping it like wishbone, one thick arm around the masked man's neck and a hand gripping his head, his muscles bulging.

Oliver's. Not the Ghost's. There was no sign that the Ghost was even human under all those layers of black.

It really did make it easier to do what they had to do.

Oliver's eyes flicked to Felicity's and she tried to convey as best she could that she was okay. That she had this.

It must have worked because when Oliver's eyes lifted to Head Asshole Dude and met his helmet covered eyes, Oliver's expression was cocky and arrogant. And his grip on the man whose life he held never wavered.

The Ghost holding her tensed. It was the first sign of humanity and it was something Felicity probably only recognized because he had her smooshed against him. Yick. She could have lived without being able to sense Asshole's muscle reactions.

Said Asshole sounded confident, though, as he demanded, "If you want your sexy little Archeologist in one piece, you'll get on your knees, hands behind your head."

It was kinda cool to be called an Archeologist, even if it wasn't accurate. Though, what was even cooler was the way Oliver shrugged and said, "If Darhk wanted us dead, we'd be dead."

And, goddamn, if that smirk wasn't sexy.

Felicity wondered if it was Oliver or the weapon in her hand that was keeping her from freaking out.

Oh…or the righteous fury. Actually, Felicity was putting her money on righteous fury. That was getting her a lot of mileage these days.

"Who said anything about killing her." And even with the distorted voice, Felicity had the feeling that the Ghost was smirking right back at them. This one was definitely a person under the mask.

Unfortunately. Felicity found it unlikely that he would see another morning.

But maybe that was fortunate, because…Felicity went stiff as the hand around her waist moved up to close around her breast.

And it was…actually, Felicity was surprised at her own non-response. It didn't feel good. It was icky as frak. But her body went numb and all she could focus on was Oliver as she watched his cocky expression melt into pure rage. God-damn-it.

Again, Felicity tried to communicate that she was fine. No biggie. She'd been through far worse than a gloved hand on her clothed breast.

But the wordless communication thing…not working this time. Shocker. Great, there was no way Oliver was going to be able to keep his cool.

His muscles coiled, his entire posture morphing as he laser focused on the man behind her. Oliver's hands flew up, flinging the man he had been holding away so that he stumbled and fell to his knees.

But the distraction, the Ghost holding her's cocky attitude, his play of molesting her…exactly the opening Felicity was looking for.

Felicity let out a fake whimper and grabbed at the hand on her breast. The idiot Ghost didn't even seem to care that her hands were free, he just chuckled as she sobbed, "Please, let me go…"

She didn't even try to make it sound genuine. Wasn't worth the effort.

Then Felicity pulled back Mr. Asshole's glove and jammed the pen dart into his hand. One click of the trigger. Two. And three.

And…that was enough to kill him.

Maybe.

Or, maybe, it would just knock him out for 48 hours.

Felicity was surprised at how little she cared one way or another. The life of that jaguar meant more to her than the man now slumping behind her.

His weight started to fall forward and Felicity shoved him back, stepping out from under his icky creepy grip. She was vaguely aware of him landing on the floor somewhere behind her, but she was much more interested in Oliver and the scene in front of her.

Oliver didn't even pause a moment to acknowledge what happened. As Asshole went limp, Oliver turned to the man still kneeling on the ground, giving him a swift kick in the head.

And another Ghost went down and stayed down.

Then it was just Oliver against the two remaining HIVE operatives. He didn't pause to check on her, or even look her way. Even so, Felicity felt certain that he was aware of her wellbeing, just as she was certain that he was aware of everything that was going on around them.

Hyper-vigilance in these types of situations was the one positive side-effect of the PTSD Oliver suffered after being stuck on that god-awful island for two years.

The fight was fierce. Apparently, the last two Ghosts were still alive for a reason, because the hand to hand was a dizzying display and Felicity was a bit worried that the two-on-one would eventually tire Oliver out.

Well…just a tiny bit.

Nah.

The longer Felicity watched, the more confident she became that it was only a matter of time before Oliver finished them both off.

It was a dance of well placed, powerful kicks and punches. The Ghosts couldn't use their weapons if they wanted to, Oliver wouldn't let them near them.

Felicity considered just waiting it out and watching the show. It was a rather gorgeous display. Oliver was shirtless after all. And the way he fought…it was tempting to just stand there and marvel, let herself bask in the fact that all…that was hers again.

She was quite certain that watching was exactly what Oliver would want Felicity to do.

But…

Felicity's adrenaline was still pumping. Her muscles were primed and ready. Her body was still humming with confidence from taking down Head Asshole Ghost. She didn't feel like a woman who stood by and watched the man she loved…or anyone for that matter, take on two bad guys without trying to help.

The trio shifted, giving Felicity the opportunity she needed.

Taking a running leap, Felicity landed on the back of one of the remaining Ghosts, clinging to him like a spider monkey.

Oliver threw her a look that one part pride, two parts exasperation. Or maybe it was the other way around. Hard to tell. Either way, Felicity just smiled back as she wrapped one arm around the Ghost's eyes and, before he could even react, jabbed the pen dart into his neck.

One. Two. Three clicks.

And another Ghost went down.

Before Felicity could even begin to untangle herself (at least, the body gave her a soft landing), she heard the tell-tale sound of the other man's neck being snapped and…when had that stopped sending a chill down her spine?

Once upon a time, it had shocked her how easily Oliver snapped a neck, leaving her equally awed and horrified. Now, all Felicity felt was relief.

Oliver's hand curled around Felicity's elbow, helping her up and away from the pile of unconscious men (or dead bodies, but she figured she'd pretend at least a few were the former) and into his arms.

It may have been super inappropriate, but Felicity let out a happy little laugh. She couldn't help it. It just felt so good to stand in Oliver's arms after a fight like that.

A fight they had just won.

Together.

And to be allowed to hold him.

Felicity was so done with battles and killing and, worse, the people she loved being in danger but if she had to be in a battle, this was the only way she ever wanted to end it. Oliver's arms around her and his skin (god, his skin) it was so warm and alive under her fingertips. Proving how alive he was. It was perfect.

After everything…god, what a day.

Oliver cupped her chin and brought it up so he could meet her eyes and Felicity could tell from his grin that he was feeling something damn similar.

"Christ, you were magnificent."

Before Oliver's words could even sink into Felicity's busily buzzing brain, his hand tangled in her hair and he pressed a hard kiss against her lips, causing the buzz to, well, intensify. To off the charts levels.

When he pulled back, all Felicity could manage was another laugh. Louder and with more joy. "I only took down two," she argued, beaming up at him, her hands stroking his shoulders and gliding up to encircle his neck. Though if Felicity was honest with herself, she was pretty fraking proud. Of both of them. "You took down, what? Five or six?"

She looked around to count the Ghosts on the ground, but Oliver gently pulled her face back to his, saying, "You. Were. Magnificent." He pressed another kiss to her lips and Felicity felt his pride warm her to her bones. "I'm so proud," he murmured against her lips before pressing yet another too short kiss to them. "I'm in awe."

Thankfully, the next kiss wasn't quite as brief. Felicity was breathless by the end of this one and very glad for his big body to lean on, because her legs were feeling a little wobbly.

"Oliver."

That was it. All Felicity had to say. Just 'Oliver.' Wow, she had forgotten it was possible to feel this way. Happy. Despite the carnage around them. Though the carnage around them was probably the only thing keeping her from jumping his bones.

And, apparently, Oliver felt the same way because he let out a low growl. Not the angry kind. The good kind. The sexy kind. Then he kinda crushed her too him, his mouth surging back onto hers and his tongue sweeping into her mouth.

God, it felt so good.

But all too soon Oliver pulled back to whisper against her mouth, "Good god, I want to make love to you."

Felicity's breath hitched. Her mind went blank. Well, blank except for the very vivid images those words inspired.

So not very blank at all.

"Yes. Please."

Apparently, Felicity had used up her quota of words. But, really, was there anything more that needed to be said?

Oliver chuckled, low and husky. "But—"

But? Meh. Felicity hated 'buts.' Especially when they interfered sex with her fraking soulmate after five plus years.

Felicity could tell Oliver was about to say something she wouldn't like so she raised up to her tiptoes and pulled him back in, this time chasing his tongue with hers and attempting to push all those worried Negative Nellie thoughts from his head.

A low moan emerged from Oliver's throat and, for a moment, Felicity really thought she was succeeding.

Then he pulled back and, clearing his throat, looked pointedly over her head. Felicity followed Oliver's gaze…to the Ghosts littering their lovely little sanctuary.

Frak. If she didn't hate them before…not even Felicity was desperate enough to have sex here now. Damn, how the hell were they going to get rid of them all?

Why couldn't anything be easy?

Then Oliver added, "There are probably more on the way. Sunshine, we need to get out of here."

And there was that. "Mmphhh." Damn HIVE. But…there was a beautiful thatch of green outside where they could sneak a few minutes…maybe? Possibly? Felicity pressed against Oliver and whined, "Can't we just—?"

Oliver growled this time. And again it was the very, very good kind of growl. Felicity felt it all the way in her core that's how good it was. It was followed by an even longer kiss, deep and satisfying.

Felicity could tell he was lingering. Longer than he intended. But there was a place in the back of her mind that kept whispering that Oliver was right. They weren't safe. Especially with the two of them…distracted as they were.

So when Oliver finally murmured against her lips, "Soon. We have to get to safety first," Felicity groaned, but nodded.

She didn't want a repeat of coitus interruptus anyway. But, damn, it felt like all they did was scurry from one 'safe' location to another. Felicity was so done with this ARGUS crap. They needed to retire.

Felicity didn't complain, though, or try to stop him, when Oliver pulled out of her arms with one last kiss to her forehead. They had transitioned seamlessly back to the constant casual touching they used to have (had Oliver really thought that they were fooling their teammates?) and…yeah, it was the most wonderful thing. Might even make this annoying constant danger thing worth it. Or, at least, bearable.

As long as they both survived.

"Put on your shorts," Oliver murmured, a hand lingering possessively on her scantily covered ass. "Christ, I thought I was going to go feral when he touched you—"

Felicity cut Oliver off with a quick peck to the lips. She was already reaching for her shorts on the clothes-line, his reminder of the gropy-grop Ghost making her want to be fully covered asap, even as she reassured, "I'm fine." She glanced down at Oliver's hand on her hip and smiled. "I'm better than fine."

That inspired another low growl and kiss from Oliver. Then he set her away from him, almost as if he needed there to be a minimum safe distance to keep himself from fondling her. Felicity liked that just fine. Found it rather satisfying as a matter of fact.

She smiled giddily and Oliver swallowed, his lips quirking up as he shook his head at her. "Just get dressed and pack. Only what we need most and can easily carry. Go."

Oliver smacked her ass, but it was so much more of a caress than a hit that she chuckled. Felicity followed his orders though, pulling on her shorts and socks. In that moment, she would follow him into hell. Happily.

After hastily tying up her boots, Felicity stood to grab the last of her clothes (which amounted to extra underwear and socks) and Oliver's shirt. She turned to him. "Do you want—?"

Oliver had already strapped on his quiver. Over his bare chest. So…was he trying to distract her? Because hottest thing ever.

But he was crouched over one of the bodies with an arrow in its neck. And that, unfortunately, was a good deal less sexy. Blood on Kevlar, not erotic. And, nope, no way that Ghost was just unconscious. Felicity hoped Oliver wasn't feeling bad for killing—

Oliver yanked out the arrow, causing it to make an icky squishy nauseating sound.

"What are you doing?" Felicity really hoped her voice didn't sound accusing. No way it didn't sound grossed out.

"Recycling," Oliver told her, matter-of-factly, cleaning off the arrow on the Ghost's uniform before placing it back in his quiver.

Okay then.

Felicity pushed Oliver's shirt into her bag with her extra socks. He was busy. Also, she didn't want his only shirt to be covered in Ghost guts. Yuck.

Luckily, Felicity had a tendency to repack as she worked, so her bag was mostly full and her task didn't take long. Most of the stuff from the motorcycle would have to stay behind. It was too heavy to carry. She shoved her tablet and the canteens into her bag (so grateful she had taken the time to refill them), scooped up a few spare protein bars, and…

Felicity took a look around the chamber. Not at the Ghosts on the floor, but the walls and the Door and…for the first time, she realized…

"Are we really abandoning all this to HIVE?" Felicity swallowed thickly. A feeling was starting to bubble up inside her. A strong…something pulling at her insides.

They shouldn't leave.

They weren't meant to leave out the front door.

HIVE couldn't have this place. Evil couldn't have this place. It was…wrong.

"I don't think we have much choice," Oliver answered calmly, clearly unaware of the rising storm in Felicity as he moved on to 'recycle' the next arrow. "We're fish in a barrel here. We can only defend this place for so long. Remember the Alamo?"

Oliver shot Felicity a sober look and she sighed, looking around once again. He was right, but…luckily, she had already photographed everything in a painstaking way. The obsessive ritualness of it had helped keep her calm during the hurricane and the long hours of estrangement from Oliver but…

"You are not allowed to blow this up too!" Felicity told Oliver, as soon as the thought occurred to her. Very adamantly. Finger pointing and all.

The risk of curses alone. Not that Felicity was going to tell Oliver that. Was she supposed to tell Oliver now that they weren't keeping secrets? Did theories and suspicions count as secrets?

Oliver looked up and met her eyes again, his face serious. He was considering it. Blowing this place sky-high as soon as they were clear. Felicity could tell.

"No!" She might have no choice but bring up the curse theory.

But, thankfully, not at that moment. Frowning, Oliver gave her a small nod, which Felicity supposed was the best she was going to get. Then he went back to refilling his quiver and packing his duffle bag with essentials and…

Goddamn it. She should be relieved. Oliver had agreed. But…Felicity still really, really didn't want to leave. She couldn't explain it, but the feeling they needed to stay just kept growing.

Sighing, she went through the motions of picking through their things. Felicity wasn't moving as fast as she could. She knew that. She was stalling, trying to come up with another solution and she knew it was just a matter of time before Oliver called her on it.

When he was done, his duffle bag over his back, crisscrossing the quiver strap on his chest, his bow firmly clutched in his hand, Oliver gingerly took the steps, no doubt to survey the situation outside their hide-hole.

But every step Oliver took filled Felicity with irrational dread. Her muscles wound tighter and tighter and her stomach tied itself into progressively more complex knots. It took all her willpower to force her hands to keep moving. Frowning, she shoved the med kit into her bag and—

"Shit!" Oliver's voice was quiet, but… "Holy…"

Felicity dropped her bag and snatched up her pen dart, scrambling up the stairs behind Oliver without stopping to think about whether it was a good idea or not.

He was crouched down mid-way up the stairs, the same place Felicity had sat to fix his watch not so long ago. Oliver's eyes were hard and serious, fixated on at point that was…out. Though he was, as always, very aware of her presence. He held out a hand, both an offering to help her steady herself and a warning to stay behind him.

Once Felicity was securely behind him, Oliver slotted an arrow into his bow and aimed it at a threat she had yet to see.

A threat that should be terrifying her, but Felicity's Bizzaro body had decided to be relieved, because it meant that, for this moment at least, they were staying in the chamber. What the frak was up with that?

Before Felicity was able to get a good look outside, a loud noise…a loud animal noise, a strange warbly roar rang out, making her flinch.

Frak.

Also…Felicity had heard that sound before. It was rather distinctive.

Peering out over Oliver's shoulder, she looked…past a trail bloody bodies. Oh god, so many bodies. Far bloodierthen the ones inside. Even after Oliver had recycled. For a moment, her stomach rebelled and Felicity had to swallow bile, closing her eyes briefly and breathing deeply through her nose.

There was no question of survivors out there and…holy crap…

Her jaguar.

There was no reason for Felicity to think it was the same jaguar (as opposed to any other rare black jaguar) but, somehow, she knew it was him. That it was his warbly roar and his devastation littered across their small patch of the jungle.

He, their Bagheera, was in a standoff with dozen Ghosts. Frak. That was a lot of Ghosts. And how many were still lurking just out of sight? There were two trucks behind them…god only knew how they had gotten those this far into the rainforest.

And how the hell had Oliver, Mr. Super-Spidy-Sense-Guy not heard them coming?

Yes, they were underground. And, yes, they were rather…distracted for the last hour or so…crap, this is what happened when agents got distracted. This was why couples weren't supposed to be on the same team.

This was why Felicity was so very done with ARGUS.

And then there was the man who wasn't in full Ghost armor. In fact, he wasn't wearing armor at all. He had eerily white blond hair and a business suit and tie. All black.

In the middle of the fraking jungle. A jungle that had just been through a hurricane, only hours before. How was he not dying of the heat?

There was only one person this could be. If he even counted as a 'person.' As far as Felicity was concerned, her jaguar ranked higher.

Damian fracking Darhk.

Frackity frak frak and a fuck for good measure.

And, what was worse, Mr. Darhk seemed angry. Like really, really angry. He didn't seem like the kind of man who got angry easily so that couldn't be anything but horrible.

"Just shoot it, you imbeciles!" Darhk bellowed, gesturing to their poor kitty with an angry swipe of his hand. Poor incredibly deadly kitty. "You have weapons! Extremely advanced, automatic weapons. And he does not have the information we need since he is a cat! Shoot him!"

"Mmnn no," Felicity whimpered, clutching Oliver's shoulder.

All it did was earn her a hard warning look and a hissed, "Fe-li-ci-ty…"

But Felicity was well aware she had to be quiet. The last thing they needed was Damian Darhk to know they were there, only a few feet away, his cracker jack team already…incapacitated.

And Felicity knew it was insane to even consider jumping to the jaguar's aide but…tears pricked her eyes. The idea of these horrible people opening fire on that majestic animal…

Of course, that majestic animal had just massacred a dozen of their people.

Why hadn't they opened fire yet? Darhk had a damn good point. Bagheera was one cat. Powerful as he was, how could he stand up against a fricking army?

Yet, even with Darhk's super scary command, not a single Ghost opened fire. They must be pretty damn petrified of Bagheera to disobey the crazy guy in the suit. The one who was getting more enraged by the second and, wow, he was even scarier when his face turned red like a tomato. Red face, white hair…not a good combination.

"You!" Tomato-face roared, pointing to one of the men frozen in front of him.

Then Darhk flicked his hand and the man he was pointing at flew through the air, toward the jaguar.

Felicity muffled her gasp behind her hand, leaning into Oliver as he grunted a quiet, "Fucking magic."

Yup and Felicity….so hadn't seen that coming. She'd seen magic before, but this was…whoa! Like the real fraking deal. And coming from one of the evilest men on the planet. Crap.

"I said shoot him!" Darhk's roar echoed, louder and maybe even scarier than the jaguar's.

But, then again, Felicity and her weird over-developed brain had started to see the cat's roar as cute and…the poor Ghost (wow, was Felicity feeling bad for Ghosts now?) was only a couple feet away from the cat. He had no choice but shoot or be torn to shreds. Actually, he was probably going to be torn to shreds regardless.

The Ghost pulled the trigger and a spray of gun fire rang out. Felicity crouched down behind the stairs, pulling at Oliver to do the same, pressing her forehead into his back.

Felicity clung to Oliver, tears slipping free. Her heart hurt. Poor Bagheera. He was better than any of them.

When silence finally fell, Oliver straightened to look out and, swallowing, Felicity did the same though she really had no desire to see a bullet riddled…

But all she saw was the Ghost (all the Ghosts really) and Damian fraking Darhk, standing there, scowling, scanning the trees around them.

The jaguar couldn't possibly have out run an automatic weapon. Right?

But then, that sound came again, the roar that sounded like an odd combination of a seal's bark and grunting growl. It wasn't overpowering like a lion's roar. Instead, it was…chilling, sending sparks of fear over a person's skin.

But not Felicity's. She smiled so wide that she had to bite her lip to keep from whooping out loud, she was so relieved. And pretty damn impressed. That cat…he deserved to live.

But that didn't mean Felicity didn't flinch along with the rest of them (except Oliver) when the jaguar shot out of nowhere, landing on the man who had shot at him. The Ghost didn't even have a chance to raise his weapon again, because one swipe of the cat's large paw and his neck…

They were making a whole lot of Ghosts…ghosts today. Was that irony? Or poetic justice? Hmm.

Regardless, Felicity found herself averting her eyes. It was a pretty gruesome sight. Though, what did it say about her that she also kinda wanted to clap?

But then, someone did clap.

Damian Darhk.

Which was just…bizarre. Because she was pretty sure his army was losing. To a single feline. That man was truly a lunatic. With powers. A pretty scary combination.

Darhk stepped forward again, his clap slow and measured. Felicity shivered, licking her lips and leaning against Oliver's shoulder as she watched. This was all so much…more manageable with Oliver here.

"Well, well. You, my fine furry friend, are more formidable than, well, any human on my staff," Darhk drawled and Felicity hated him. She really, really did. "And more intelligent too, I'd hazard to guess. Maybe I should take you home with me."

"Mmph," Felicity muffled her 'no' into Oliver's skin and dug her nails into his biceps, but she couldn't close her eyes. She couldn't stop watching.

Darhk stepped toward the cat…their cat. Not Damian Darhk's. Their jaguar. The evil Jerkwad could not have him.

But the arrogant Jerkwad in question didn't show the slightest sign of fear as he stalked toward the deadly animal. Darhk put out his hand the way he had when he flung his minion into battle (and certain death as it turned out) but Bagheera…

No, Bagheera wasn't right. Felicity had to find a better name for him. This cat was a fierce Mayan Warrior. He needed a Mayan name…

But as Felicity's, admittedly, crazy brain contemplated proper names for their jaguar friend, Darhk's magic was doing…nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

And Felicity didn't know who was more shocked by this. Her or Darhk. In fact, she would have wondered if something was even supposed to happen if it weren't for Darhk's expression turning, well, darker and darker.

How did one get a name like Darhk anyway? It couldn't be real, right? If he chose it himself then it was…rather unoriginal. And if he was born with it, well, that had been a particularly bad omen.

Finally, after flicking his wrist impotently for a minute or two (Felicity would have chuckled if it wasn't all so…well, terrifying) Darhk let out an ugly growl and turned, flinging his arm out at his own men and sending four of them flying.

Then, hands settling on his hips, Darhk shrugged. "Well, still works."

What kind of asshole turns on his own people just to prove he's not impotent? Pathetic.

But, then, Darhk turned back to Felicity's jaguar and asked, "What are you, my fine furry friend?" It sent chills down her spine.

Didn't mean it wasn't an excellent question, though.

The ugliest expression yet settled over Darhk's face as he narrowed his eyes at the great cat. "Let's see if you can survive all my men firing at you at once, shall we?"

The Ghosts raised their guns and, this time, Felicity wasn't able to control the, "No!" that flew from her mouth.

Oliver grunted, "Fuck! Felicity!" frustration evident in his tone. He stood, pulling out a thicker arrow from his quiver. "Brace yourself!"

Felicity threw out an arm and fell to one knee, watching as if in slow motion as the arrow flew past the Ghosts, landing squarely in the side of one of the trucks. Right where the gas-line should be….

There was a ball of red fire…followed immediately by an even larger one.

Then the truck flew up into the air….

Oliver spun around, curling over her and blocking her view with his big body.

Felicity felt the heat though. Heard the explosions. Smelled the smoke.

The ground shook.

Smoke billowed into the opening of the chamber, but Oliver pulled her down the stairs before it could fill their lungs, though the acrid smell remained. Felicity could taste the smoke. It burned her throat with every breath.

Felicity wondered if it was real or another burgeoning flashback but…god, they really didn't have time for another stupid flashback.

"Grab your stuff," Oliver instructed. "We have 30 seconds to get everything we need and get away before the smoke clears."

Not even pausing to think, Felicity scrambled to her bag, swinging into onto her shou—

There was a flash of blue.

Frak her. The moonstone. It must have fallen out of her pocket. Felicity scooped it up and…

She froze.

The moonstone lay in the palm of her hand. And…Felicity just stared at it. It was…she had forgotten something…something important…

"Felicity, we need to—Jesus Fucking Christ!"

The air had suddenly gotten very thick. And not from the smoke. In fact, Felicity couldn't even smell the smoke. Not anymore.

It felt like she was moving through water. Never-the-less, Felicity glanced up, over her shoulder, and was surprisingly…unsurprised to find their jaguar descending the stairs.

Oliver stepped backwards. She could tell without looking at him that he was tense and ready to fight. He moved closer to Felicity, grabbing an arrow—

"No," Felicity told him quietly, reaching out to touch his arm to still him.

She wasn't sure why though. Actually, it almost felt like someone else was in the driver's seat, controlling her…no, that was wrong. Guiding her. It felt like something, someone was guiding her. And, strangely, it didn't feel weird or wrong. Felicity felt calm. Confident.

"Fel—"

"Kinich Ahau won't hurt us." The name emerged from her mouth before the words had fully formed in Felicity's mind. But it felt right. It was right. She was certain of that. Turning, she met the great cat's eyes. His blue, blue eyes. "Will you?"

Kinich Ahau just tilted his head to the side, watching her patiently. There was nothing threatening in his stance or posture. His tail was relaxed. And Felicity knew with every fiber of her being that he wasn't a danger. Not to them.

Oliver grunted, low in his throat. He didn't seem to agree with her. But that was okay. Felicity had confidence enough for both of them.

Even if that confidence was strange and other worldly or…something. Felicity had no idea what it was, actually, but it told her to hold out her hand to the cat, revealing the moonstone.

So she did.

"We have the moonstone," Felicity told the jaguar. As if that were a sane thing to do. As if he would or could answer back.

It didn't feel insane, though. It felt right. Felicity's body was calm in a way it hadn't been in a long time. It felt as if things were finally falling into place.

Kinich Ahau looked at Felicity's hand, then back up at her and she would swear he met her eyes, looking deep into her soul. She even had the odd feeling he liked what he saw. He sat back, giving her another head tilt.

His look seemed to say, 'Yes, I see. Now what are you going to do about it?'

"It's important, isn't it?" The only thing that seemed strange was that Felicity hadn't realized it before. Hadn't realized the moonstone was a huge part of the puzzle. "It's the key to…" Oh god…the pieces clicked into place and giddiness bubbled up inside her and she almost laughed. "It's the key. It's literally the key!"

Felicity squealed and spun around to face Oliver with a broad and excited smile. He was looking at her wide-eyed and wary, confused, but he didn't stop her…he trusted her…as she ran to the Door and shoved the moonstone cleanly into the irregular cavity in the center of the palm print sun.

"It's the missing piece," Felicity breathed. Then, turning to Oliver and Kinich Ahau, she all but sang, "It's the missing piece!"

Kinich Ahau stretched and laid down, lazily placing his head on his paws and simply watching. He seemed content enough with how things were going. It only further convinced Felicity of the rightness of it all.

Oliver's eyes flew from the cat to Felicity and back again. "How…how did we not think of that—?"

Felicity cut him off with a delirious sort of laugh. "We weren't ready." Again, the answer just came to her. "I don't think we were meant to. Not yet." She dropped her bag at her feet and gestured Oliver over. "Come on." She placed her hands in the imprints and waited.

Taking one last wary look at their friend, Oliver moved to approach her, but then stopped and turned, pointing a finger at Kinich Ahau. "Just remember that we didn't kill you when we had the chance. And there is plenty of fresh meat just waiting for you over there." Oliver gestured to bodies on the ground. Then he shook his head, muttering to himself, "I've gone insane."

Finally, Oliver let out a deep breath and curled himself around her. It was very different than the other two times they had done this. Then he had been stiff, intent on holding himself apart from her.

This time, Oliver molded himself to Felicity, enveloping her, touching as much of her as he could, his lips pressed against her temple.

What a difference a day makes.

It was beyond perfect. Felicity had never felt such flawless contentment.

"Let's pray this works," Oliver murmured, his face nestled between her neck and shoulder, sending warm streaks of sensation racing along her skin.

Felicity leaned back into Oliver and smiled. He placed his hands in the palm prints and she felt his overlap hers.

"It will."

Felicity had never been so certain of anything.

Author's Notes:

(More photographs and art for this chapter here)

A note on the killing in this chapter. Both Oliver and Felicity kill without much hesitation. And here's my justification (which is also the reason why this Oliver is better adjusted here than Cannon!Oliver): They're not a vigilantes. They're not taking the law into his own hands. On the Island, Oliver killed in self-defense. Here, he kills because it's his job. A government sanctioned job. A Navy Seal when faced with an aggressive enemy combatant uses deadly force. Plain and simple. I put both Oliver and Felicity in this the same category. So, while they both carry their share of guilt, there is a lot less gray. That's how I see it any way.

Thank you to Godsfool for queuing me into my jaguar's friends strange roar. Check it out in this YouTube video: here.

My infinite thanks to my three wonderful Betas and friends Ireland1733, Fairytalehearts, and imusuallyobsessed. They make all of this worth it. Well, them and all the wonderful people who leave such lovely comments.

Happy Reading,

Emmy