**Got persnickety and fixed a few things, re-posted this chapter
Physically spent, Oliver showered before falling into his bed at the loft. It was after two in the morning and he tried to fall asleep. The last image he saw was Felicity crying.
Oliver dreamed of the fall from the cliff, the same way he did every night. Tonight, however, a hand reached out to catch him. He was enveloped in a warm embrace that chased away the cold. He felt physical comfort for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He was welcomed, he was touched, and he felt the soft curves of the woman's body against his own. Wrapping her comfortably in his arms, he enjoyed the breath on his neck and the sleepy weight of her limbs on him as she cuddled his side. His body responded to her closeness and he pressed kisses to her face, rolling them over.
Felicity lay beneath Oliver, but something was wrong. She was saying something he couldn't hear. Surely it could wait, he felt so good. He pushed her legs apart and tried to kiss her. He couldn't find her lips in the dark and wanted to laugh at the absurdity. Their limbs tangled and kept getting in the way. He solved the problem by holding her arms still while he entered her body. She was still saying something and trying to touch him, but when he released her arms she struck him. He felt so good and wanted to share it with her. Surely she must want the same thing. Surely.
Oliver sat up in his bed, trembling. He fumbled with his sheets, initially searching for the woman. Felicity. The dream began to fade and he rubbed a hand over his face, wiping the sweat from his eyes. He stumbled to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Stepping under the cool spray, he stood and waited for the cold water to turn warm. He rinsed his body and toweled off, returning to bed and lying awake, staring at the ceiling. He wanted to call Felicity, to hear her voice would reassure him. Barry had been right, he needed to stay away from her. Oliver thought about the drunken hook-ups he'd had as a younger man and part of him feared that if he was capable of harming the woman he loved, he might have failed to heed protests in the past. He eventually drifted off again, this time, blessedly dreamless.
Felicity got a phone call the afternoon following Barry's visit.
"Hi Caitlin," she said, answering her cell.
"Hi, Felicity," the other woman's voice was guarded. "Are you feeling okay today?"
"More of the same, Barry might have told you my symptoms. I'm not having any dizziness, but I have a bit of a headache, achy lower back, and a bit tired. Otherwise I feel okay."
"Did you sleep okay?"
"I took a sleeping pill, had a glass of wine and passed out for ten hours."
"I know it's a long trip, but are you able to come to Central City?"
"I thought about that, last night," Felicity replied. "I think I can get there in a reasonable amount of time. I just have to ask my boss a favor." She paused and bit her lip. "Is it something bad?"
"I have some theories, and so far nothing life-threatening has shown up, I just think seeing you in person might be a good idea."
"I'll call you back in a few minutes once I arrange everything."
Felicity called Ray and interrupted him before he could apologize again.
"Ray, I think I might know why you…acted strangely last night."
"You do?" he asked.
She requested the use of the company jet and promised him an explanation when she returned.
After she'd made arrangements to meet the pilot at the airstrip, she showered and got dressed in a sleeveless blouse and skirt. She packed a bag, she didn't know if she'd need to stay overnight. She was touching up her makeup in the bathroom when she heard a knock at the door. Her heart started to hammer in her chest and she took a deep breath, closing her eyes and counting to ten. She put her lipstick in her bag and walked out to her living room. It might not be Oliver, she told herself. Just as she reached for the doorknob, she heard a voice to her right.
"Hello, Ms. Smoak."
Felicity jumped nearly a foot and placed her hand over her heart. Malcolm Merlyn didn't appear in a puff of smoke like a real magician, but she just hadn't seen him standing in her kitchen until he'd spoken. Oliver had that talent, but not quite as effective as the assassin.
"Why are you in my apartment?" She went to her closet and took out her red trench coat.
"I wanted to speak with you, about Oliver."
"You could've called." Merlyn gave her a small, polite smile. "Mr. Merlyn, I've made it clear I'm not comfortable talking with you." She swallowed hard, not bothering to hide her fear. She squared her shoulders, walked to the door with her coat over her arm and reached for the doorknob. She felt his cool fingers brush the skin inside her elbow, stopping her in her tracks. His touch was gentle, unnervingly so, considering what he was capable of doing.
"You're injured." He looked more closely at her upper arm. Felicity hadn't looked at herself since the night before. She started to pull away but the gentle pressure the older man applied to the inside of her elbow made her pause. He wasn't restraining her, but he could, the soft touch was a reminder.
"I'm not injured."
"What happened last night?" He looked at her with a penetrating gaze. The place where his fingers came in contact with her skin felt warm and uncomfortable.
"I don't know what you mean."
"You're a terrible liar, Ms. Smoak."
"Get out, Mr. Merlyn."
Oliver's mentor and enemy nodded and left without another word. She felt tears well up as soon as the door closed. She wiped her eyes, added a sweater to her ensemble, and hurried out to her car. She drove the private airfield on the outskirts of the city. Ray's company owned a Cessna Citation-X, it made the trip from Starling to Central City in less than two hours. Felicity drove to S.T.A.R. Labs in a rental car and greeted Caitlin near the entrance, who embraced her warmly.
Felicity's curiosity got the better of her once they were inside.
"Being straightforward won't bother me," she reassured the biologist, I just need to know what you've found."
"Surprisingly, there wasn't anything particularly unusual in Oliver's blood," she said, surprising the blonde. "The most interesting information came from a different sample." They entered her lab and she offered Felicity a chair. "Barry swabbed for Oliver's saliva…on your neck."
"Right," Felicity said, quickly.
"There was something present in your sweat. It degrades quickly so I wanted to get a live sample and run tests here." Her brow wrinkled and she looked at her friend closely. "Do you feel feverish right now?"
"A little," she said, rubbing the back of her neck. "My headache is back, too."
"Let's check you out."
Once comfortably seated in Caitlin's lab, Felicity let her take swabs from behind her knees, at the crook of her elbow and under her arms, places where sweat tended to be concentrated. Together, they put the cotton pads on the table.
"Did I miss the show?"
The women turned to greet Dr. Harrison Wells as he rolled his chair towards them.
"I was just about to turn off the lights," Caitlin said.
"I didn't know anyone else would be here," Felicity said, rubbing the back of her neck, nervously.
"I asked Dr. Harrison, Cisco and Barry to be available in case I needed to measure their reactions."
"I assure you," Wells said, stopping beside her, "you're quite safe with me."
"That's what I thought last night," Felicity said, nervously.
"We'll be quick," Caitlin promised.
She turned off the lights and took a black light wand over to the table and turned it on. Felicity stepped forward eagerly when she saw the immediate results. One of the cotton pads was glowing brightly and the others had traces of something autoflourescing. Wells rolled over to the table and examined the pads carefully.
"Which one was this?" he asked, pointing to the brightest.
"Crook of the right elbow," Caitlin said, handing the light to Wells who turned to Felicity. She extended her arm and the black light revealed traces of the same glow all over her skin concentrated brightest at her elbow. She could actually make out two solid ovals of bright color on the spot where Malcolm Merlyn's fingers had touched her.
"That evil son of a bitch," she whispered. "I've been dosed."
"Could you excuse us?" Caitlin asked Wells. He complied and Felicity undressed behind a screen where the black light revealed her body covered in light. Areas where she'd sweated more had higher concentrations, but there were specks of glowing material over her entire body. There was a swirled pattern on the back of her neck and shoulders, out from which the largest area of glow had spread. She remembered the sneaky shoulder rub and fought back tears. "I want to get this checked before it degrades," Caitlin left her to dress and she came out into the lab.
Cisco, Barry and Dr Wells had gathered around the computer console in the main room. Felicity opted to stay in the lab with Caitlin. She stood up with a triumphant smile.
"I've got it." She brought Felicity out to the main room. "It's a synthetic liquid that contains traces of flower pollen and insect hormone."
"Um, what?" Cisco asked.
"I think I know what Dr. Snow has discovered." Dr. Wells turned to Felicity, "Someone took hormones from flowers and insects-"
"Probably orchids and honeybees," Caitlin cut in.
"-and used them to make synthetic sex hormone to mimic the human sex hormone." He smiled at her. She shifted from one foot to the other "Do you need to make a phone call?"
Felicity went to pick up her phone and sent a text message to Oliver. She couldn't be certain where he was but he called her less than a minute later.
"Are you alone?" she asked.
"Yes," he answered, breathlessly. "Felicity, I don't-"
"Later, Oliver. I'm at S.T.A.R. labs with Caitlin, they ran some tests on me and found a synthetic sex hormone that Merlyn's been dosing me with." She licked her lips nervously. "He's done it a few times, including today."
"Don't come back here," Oliver said, quickly. "And stay away from Barry Allen."
"I might need to ask you some questions later, keep your phone on you. The blood sample you gave him seems normal."
"Okay." He paused. "It's good to hear your voice."
"I'll talk to you soon." Felicity hung up and re-joined the group, standing several feet away.
"During the Cold War," Wells began, taking off his glasses and polishing them, "there were rumors of some Chinese scientists who were working on synthetic hormones." He put his glasses back on before continuing. "Some were intended to bring out the aggression in soldiers, so theoretically they could spray the men without them knowing and make the enemy soldiers fight amongst themselves."
"Russia tried it too with their sleeper agents. Using sex hormones to manipulate men."
"Only men?"
"The majority of sex hormones are only given off by females of different species, meant to attract males," Caitlin added.
"Ew," Felicity said, wrinkling her nose. "It's like hunters smearing doe pee on their shoes to shoot a buck."
"That's pretty much what they were doing," Wells concluded. "Clearly someone else had a similar idea."
"The other symptoms you described: flushing, headache, backache, fatigue are pretty normal symptoms to get, if you think about it."
"Of course," Felicity said, face palming, "It's like being pre-menstrual."
"Barry said he was affected by it," Wells said, gesturing to her friend who nodded.
"I was only there for a short time, but being within a foot of her for more than ten minutes and I started to feel physiological effects." The young scientist smiled sheepishly. "I thought she smelled really good and lost my concentration temporarily."
"That's what gave us the idea to test you here. A lot of pheromones break down once they're away from the body. You were absorbing it through your skin and sweating it out, affecting the people around you."
The group set up some baseline tests using Cisco as the guinea pig. He used a sealed oxygen mask over his mouth and nose and sat, talking with Felicity while his vitals were monitored. Then he took off the mask and ran the same tests.
After ten minutes of being together, the young engineer was flushed, sweating and had trouble focusing. When Barry walked in the room and hugged Felicity, briefly, Cisco's blood pressure spiked and he started to feel airritable.
"I'll go get some fresh air," Cisco said, checking his watch. "I'll mark the time it takes to feel normal again."
Caitlin and Dr. Wells remained with Felicity, but the latter chose to remain a bit farther away. Felicity opted to tell them about Malcolm Merlyn's actions and his recent behavior.
"I suspect he's been increasing the dose, with each encounter." Dr. Wells theorized. "Barry reacted to you more quickly than Oliver or your employer. Cisco was even faster and he knew what to expect. Whomever did this might have wanted to push Oliver to alienate everyone. If he saw other men as rivals and ended up hurting you, he'd have nothing left to lose." He put his chair in reverse and backed away from her.
"Are you okay?"
"Starting to feel a little warm in here," Wells said, turning his chair around and pointing it at the door. "I'm going to call someone I know in biochemistry to find out what can counteract the effects, and if they're temporary." He looked back over his shoulder. "I'm glad you came to us, Felicity Smoak."
Felicity spent another twenty-four hours in Starling City, checking how the levels of hormone in her body changed. Once it started to drop steadily, they sent her home with a strong herbal oil extract that masked the hormone fairly effectively. She called Oliver before takeoff and he agreed to meet her when the plane landed.
During the flight home, Felicity thought back to her encounters with Merlyn and when he might have started dosing her. Knowing that Oliver had been influenced by a chemical didn't make his reactions to her less frightening to remember. She'd wanted, so badly, for there to be an explanation that made sense, something that could push Oliver's culpability away. She'd wanted him to not be responsible for his actions. She knew, in her heart, that she wanted to forgive him.
Another thought occurred to Felicity. If Merlyn had dosed her in the restaurant, it might have been influencing Oliver's actions before they'd become lovers. The possibility of his affections being manufactured made Felicity feel cold inside. She knew she was over thinking the situation before even returning to the city, but the complex nature of her problem was frustratingly rare. She didn't think there was a precedent for how to move on from this. Ultimately it would come down to choice.
When the plane landed in Starling City, Felicity dabbed the essential oil mixture on her neck, elbows, and knees. She wore a strong anti-perspirant to hold back as much sweat as possible. She saw Oliver standing just inside the hangar, wearing jeans and his pea coat. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him. Descending from the Cessna's steps, he approached the base and reached for her bag. They stared at each other for a moment before Oliver reached for her hand.
"Let's go," he said, giving her a tight smile. He looked a little shy and uncertain, something he rarely was.
"Did you talk to Merlyn?" she asked, taking her car keys out of her pocket and using the remote to unlock the door. She opened the back door for her bag.
"I haven't seen him since you-"
Oliver's hands landed on Felicity's shoulders and his weight pinned her against the car. His arms trembled as he tried to push her into the back seat.
Felicity started to fight until she realized he was unable to stand. She saw a small trickle of blood on his neck and grabbed him around the chest. Her attempts to wrangle him into her car were hampered by his fumbling attempts to block her body with his.
"Merlyn," he mumbled before collapsing onto the ground. Felicity's urge to run was overcome by her common sense. She couldn't outrun an arrow, or a bullet, depending on the assassin's plans for her. She couldn't however, stop trying to save Oliver. She pulled him into a sitting position on the ground and slapped his face.
"Oliver, wake up!" she shouted into his face, feeling hot tears of fear and frustration run down her cheeks. A shadow fell over her and she looked up at the man who'd orchestrated her misfortunes. His bright blue eyes held little emotion.
"Do I need to drug you?" he asked, sliding a small, metal cylinder with a wicked-looking needle into the barrel of a gun that resembled an old German Luger.
"What did you give him?" Felicity turned back to Oliver and held his face in her hands. His eyes had rolled back in his head but he was breathing.
"Ketamine," he replied and Felicity closed her eyes. Oliver could be in a coma for a while, depending on the dose. "Get up, Ms. Smoak." She obeyed, propping Oliver against the car door. She faced him, brushing off her skirt, absently. "You've changed your perfume," he said.
"Yes," she said. "It's a bit less-hazardous than the one you gave me." The corners of his mouth twitched slightly.
"See you soon," he said and pulled the trigger.
Felicity felt an ache in her arm and opened her eyes groggily. She felt nauseous from the spinning. She blinked and tried to remember why the room was spinning. She felt a cool mist on her face and neck. She turned away from it but felt arms slide under her knees and shoulders before lifting her from the hard surface on which she'd been lying. She started to get sensation back in her limbs but still felt heavy. She was lying on her back again, on a scratchy blanket.
"What's happening?" she groaned, struggling to sit up. She was in a bedroom, one with a bed and small bathroom in it. She used the facilities to ease her bladder. After splashing some cool water on her face she returned to the bedroom. There were no windows and the plain bedding looked more institutional than hotel and the door appeared to be solid wood. It was locked of course but she pounded on it out of frustration.
A groan from across the room caught Felicity's attention. She turned around quickly and fought the wave of dizziness that washed over her. She walked around the bed and saw a limp form on the floor. Oliver groaned again and tried to lift his head. The door opened behind her and she stood up. Malcolm Merlyn walked in and gave her a quick nod.
"When did you start dosing me?" she asked.
"At the foundry," he said, stoically. He wasn't gloating, if anything he looked uncomfortable. "You said several people had kissed you and wondered if it was your perfume," he tilted his head to the side. "Got me thinking."
"You dosed me again, didn't you?" He kept eye contact but didn't smile. "What were you hoping to gain by doing this?" she asked, starting to pace, nervously, and unnerved by the sounds of Oliver stirring. "Other than giving me PMS?"
"Oliver needs to know what he's capable of."
Felicity stared at the handsome murderer. She was reminded of stories of Josef Mengele, called the Beautiful Devil by her fellow Jews who'd suffered atrocities because he'd wanted to know what humans were capable of. She'd thought he'd wanted to mess with Oliver's mind, but he clearly had something far worse planned. She remembered the feeling of her face and neck being sprayed with something. She wasn't sure if he'd washed away the essential oils or just dosed her with more hormone but, there was no getting out of the room, and once Oliver woke, she would be in serious trouble. She had to convince Merlyn he was making a mistake.
"Did your wife know you're a rapist?' Her words were soft, she didn't want to wake the sleeping man behind her. "Did she see the darkness inside you? Did she spend time among the pimps, whores and drug dealers in the Glades because she felt safer than with you?"
"I never harmed my wife."
"You killed babies when you set off the earthquake in the Glades," she whispered. "You killed Sara."
"Thea drew back the bow."
"Not being a stick of dynamite doesn't make you less of a killer when you light the fuse." She glanced over her shoulder. "I won't ask him to stop," she said in a quavering voice.
"You could do that," he said, nodding. "It might save you from being injured." He was trying to comfort her, to offer her support and advice.
"That's not what I meant," Felicity said, sniffling. She wiped her eyes and pretended she couldn't hear the groan coming from behind her. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "I mean when Oliver comes to his senses and realizes what you've done to me, and to him, he'll probably kill you." She cleared her throat to dislodge the lump that threatened to strangle her voice. "I won't tell him to stop when he goes to kill you. I won't plead for your life the way I did with other criminals. I won't ask him to find another way, and I won't stand by and pretend there's nothing I can do." She raised her chin and forced her lips to stop trembling. "You murdered Sara. Saying you weren't really the one responsible is like trying to blame the gloves you wear because you didn't touch the weapon." She took a few steps forward until she was inches away from him. "You're the one raping me," she said, looking him in the eye. "You're the one who'll be raping him too."
"I have a plan, Ms. Smoak," he said, clearing his throat. "It has to be this way."
"I can't think of any positive outcome from doing this to Oliver."
"I really am sorry, Felicity."
"Don't call me that." She turned away and looked over the room. She could wash her face but it was probably too late. If she showered, she'd remove any traces of the essential oils she'd put on her skin to disrupt the effect of the hormone and her antiperspirant, instead she used a washcloth to scrub her face.
She removed her jacket and shoes, wanting to stay as cool as possible. She ran a clean towel under the cold tap and removed her shirt and bra, wrapping the cold, wet cloth around her torso, desperate to cool herself down. She already felt overheated and sweaty. She thought about Merlyn's attempt to comfort; could she do it? Could she give herself to a rough, uncivilized instinct in Oliver's body. She reminded herself that he was as much a victim as she under the circumstances. She thought about Thea and how she must have felt after learning she'd killed her friend without being aware.
Felicity tried to put herself in Oliver's place as she put her bra and shirt back on. If she woke up to find a naked, bound and gagged Oliver with whom she'd been having sex after being slipped a roofie, she'd feel pretty horrible. She had no electronics, no weapons, and very few options other than to strangle Oliver with the belt from her coat before he woke. She wouldn't do that, not even to save herself. He was making a few grunts and groans as he struggled out of his drugged state and it wouldn't be long before he was lurching to his feet. She had a few minutes before he could reach her, and he'd be groggy at first; she knew a little about ketamine, perhaps the sedative effect would last long enough to keep him from…performing.
Felicity went over the panels of the wall, looking for seams, cracks, anything that might give her access to wires. Instead of control panels, she found cameras. A small hole had been drilled in the wall on either end of the room, making space for a tiny camera. With her fingernails, she managed to work it forward far enough to grasp and yanked it hard. She got a foot of fiber optic cable with it until she felt resistance. She wrapped it around her hands and braced her foot on the wall, pulling until something on the other side of the wall gave way.
Landing on her side with a grunt, Felicity ended up with a few feet of sturdy cable. She went to the other side of the room and started to dig the other camera out when she heard a voice come from the ceiling.
"If you remove the cameras, I won't know if I have to stop him from killing you."
"When I get out of here, Oliver will be the least of your problems!" She'd already decided to empty every bank account he had hidden around the world. She hadn't decided to send it to Greenpeace, the Red Cross, or a charity that dug wells in impoverished nations. She was pretty sure she'd send some to the women's crisis centers nationwide. It seemed poetic. She heard a shuffling sound behind her and saw Oliver on his feet. He leaned one hand on the edge of the bed and sat, rubbing his head. She braced her foot against the wall and pulled. The noise drew his attention and he turned to face her.
Oliver's gaze looked vacant and confused. Felicity dropped the cable she was pulling and ran at him, crashing into his side and knocking him over. She hated to hurt him but rolling him onto his stomach and bringing his hands behind his back seemed like the best option. She wrapped the cable around his wrists and then between his hands. She felt tears spill over her cheeks when she couldn't pull it tight enough to make a secure knot. He was starting to struggle now and she was out of time, she guessed he would be out of the restraints in under a minute. Jumping to her feet, she went back to the wall and pulled at the cable again. After using all of her strength and getting no more results, Felicity rested her head against the wall, sobbing quietly. The bathroom had no door, only a curtain and it was made of a thick plastic that couldn't be torn into strips. She eyed the blanket on the bed. It was heavy wool, and wouldn't tear easily. The sheets, however, might be an option.
A hand settled on Felicity's shoulder, making her cringe. It patted her, gently and turned her around. Oliver stood, swaying slightly on his feet. He was trying to focus on her face. She reached for the table lamp but it was bolted to the small table. She tried to pull the table close to her but it was bolted to the floor.
"What is this place?" she screamed at the ceiling in frustration as strong arms wrapped around her. She was pulled against the solid, familiar chest while hands stroked her hair. Giving up the fight, she cried into his shirt while he rubbed her back. She didn't know how much time she had until the ketamine wore off and the hormones kicked his libido into gear. She cried for them both because Oliver would never express himself that way. He'd internalize and blame himself. She didn't want to give up, but she didn't see a way to save herself. Starling City needed a functional vigilante, not one crippled by guilt, or unfocused with rage. She didn't think she could manage to knock him unconscious without hitting him so hard it risked his life.
Killing Oliver was definitely out of the question. He leaned his cheek against Felicity's hair and rubbed the silky mass against his beard-roughened cheek. A few strands caught in the bristly hair on his jaw and stayed against his face when she tilted her head back to look at him.
"Felicity," he said, wrinkling his forehead. "What's happening?"
"We're trapped," she said, quickly. "Merlyn drugged us and put us in here."
"Merlyn?"
"Focus, Oliver!" She drew back her hand and slapped him. "Wake up, shake it off, we need to find a way out of here, fast."
Oliver's head snapped back and he stood up, quickly.
"Why did you do that?"
"We're in serious trouble if we don't get out of this room immediately." She spared a glance at the front of his pants, so far no sign of life. "Can you boost me up to reach the ceiling light?"
Oliver was trying to focus but from the needle mark in her arm, she guessed she'd been given something to reverse the effect of the drug where he seemed to be coming around more slowly. She might not have even been given ketamine; Merlyn might have lied about what he gave Oliver too. She couldn't take anything for granted right now.
"The light?"
"There are cameras in here, I took two of them out but there's an audio feed as well." She pointed up to the ceiling and he nodded, leaning over and wrapping his thick arms around her legs, just above the knee, and lifted her straight up. He swayed slightly, trying to balance, but managed to lift her just underneath the light. She unscrewed the metal center screw that held the frosted glass cover over the bulbs. She took it off and dropped it on the bed before examining the fixture. A third camera fed down through the ceiling tile, this one she recognized and knew it had a microphone that was sensitive enough to pick up quiet voices. She pushed at the tile and it shifted, giving her a little hope.
Felicity felt Oliver's thumb rubbing against the back of her knee, small circles with the tip of the digit and she closed her eyes, swallowing hard. She was almost out of time. She took off an earring and jammed the post into the rubber ring that ran around the outside of the camera/microphone. The round body of the earring blocked the camera and hopefully a little of the sound. The tile that moved was too small for her to pull herself through and the others didn't budge, crushing her hopes for escape.
"Okay, let me down," she said, patting his shoulder. Oliver turned around and let her fall back onto the bed. She bounced and sat up. He stood at the end of the bed, staring at her. Her own gaze moved lower and saw the evidence that the synthetic hormone dose had been too much for the residual essential oils. "Oliver, you have to try not to think about sex."
"What?" he focused on her face.
"Do you remember what I told you?" she asked, moving to the side of the bed. "After you hurt me, I told you that Malcolm Merlyn had given me a synthetic hormone to make you try to hurt me."
"I remember." He still seemed sedated and Felicity guessed it might have been on purpose to make his frontal brain a little less in-control. "I hurt you."
"Yes," she said. "You hurt me even though you didn't want to." He moved to the side of the bed and cupped her face in his palm. "You remember that?"
"I'm so sorry," he said, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers.
"You can't let him do this to you, to us."
"Do you love me, Felicity?" he whispered.
"Yes, Oliver, I do." She placed her palms on the sides of his face and closed her eyes. "But I don't want to do this in here, with the cameras, and the ketamine."
"You love me," he said, softly, pressing his lips against hers. "I love you." He kissed the corner of her mouth and then the side of her neck; light, feathery kisses to her shoulder. Felicity felt his thumb brush away the tears that fell from her eyes. "It's okay," he said, pressing her down onto her back. "I'm here, it's okay." He pressed his lips to her temple and unbuttoned her blouse, fumbling slightly with drugged hands. She realized she'd already made her decision. She wouldn't fight him. He might not remember what had happened and after everyone he'd lost, she could try to save him from losing himself. She tried to think of the first night they'd spent together but couldn't bring herself to use those memories or to try to feel stimulated, it just wasn't right.
Oliver's senses would be telling him he had a green light. From Cisco's description, he would have trouble focusing on one thought when under the influence of the synthetic spray and a sedative. Felicity closed her eyes and tried to keep her breathing even. Oliver kissed and caressed her, pulling his own shirt over his head. His face was flushed and sweaty. He rolled onto her, reaching for his belt.