Felicity took small, shallow breaths, she was afraid to breathe on Malcolm Merlyn. His bright blue eyes were wide but calm, and regarded her with a fascinated curiosity. He wore hospital scrubs and she wondered if he'd killed someone to get them. Her mind spun through the different things she could say right now. She knew that ARGUS would be sending people to re-capture him, and she hoped they'd think to look for him at her apartment. She decided to stick with questions.

"Why give Oliver Versed?" she asked in a whisper. "You said you wanted him to know what he was capable of, but he didn't remember any of it."

"I had a backup plan in case he didn't…perform, with all the sedatives." He gave her a small smile. "But he did just fine." Felicity realized he believed Oliver's act, after coming to his senses, had been real. She eased her arms between them, flattening her palms against his chest. His gaze moved down to her mouth and then to the open front of her robe. She swallowed and tried to shrink back into the wall. She was only wearing a pair of cotton panties under her robe. His eyes returned to hers and the smile stayed on her face.

"You were the backup plan," she said, quietly. "I would've told Oliver it was you."

"I had a little Versed for you too." Felicity understood now. If Oliver hadn't appeared to attack her, Merlyn would've given her the same drug cocktail, and probably assaulted her while she was unconscious. They would have both come to the conclusion that Oliver had done it. The tranquilizer in the gun he'd dropped, the one she'd shot him with, must have contained Versed. It had caused retrograde amnesia so he didn't remember what had happened in the few minutes leading up to being drugged. She looked at the side of his neck where a thick bandage was taped over the spot where he'd been stabbed.

"How's your neck feeling?" She watched him carefully.

"Oliver warned me that you have a history of stabbing people, I should've listened." He was watching her as well. He was guessing that she'd stabbed him and was gauging her reaction.

"Yes," she said. He lowered her feet to the floor, but kept her back to the wall. He ran his hand down her neck and pulled her bathrobe with it, baring her shoulder. His gaze was emotionless and closed. He caressed her robotically, as if following a script. When she continued to stare at him he pushed a hand inside her robe and groped her breast. She recoiled, whacking her head on the wall again. Pleased with her response, he gripped her jaw and kissed her mouth.

Felicity brought her knee up, sharply. She missed the mark, of course, Merlyn was an assassin and she'd only got the drop on him in the room with Oliver because he'd been injured. He jerked her away from the wall and flung her onto the floor. She landed hard and the edge of her glasses hit the floor, jamming into the side of her nose, causing her to reflexively curl up, guarding her face. Her eyes watered automatically. She mused that she would have a black eye on the other side of her face, now. Rough hands gripped her shoulders and jerked her bathrobe off her back. The places where the fluffy fabric caught on her arms burned as the terrycloth was pulled tight and sawed at her flesh. She rolled away from him, covering her chest with one arm and freeing herself from the garment.

Merlyn grabbed the back of Felicity's knees as she tried to get up, she fell forward and kicked out, savagely, striking his shoulder. He wrapped a hand around her ankle and jerked her back, skinning her knee on the floor. He flipped her onto her back and straddled her waist. He pinned her hands by her head and she burned with shame at her breasts being exposed to him. Her limbs trembled with fear and she looked at his face. His expression was one of grim satisfaction and annoyance. He was not, to her surprise, sexually aroused.

"Poor Felicity," he hissed. "Worked so hard to get his love, and where did it get you?"

"Let go," she said, choking on her tears. She shook her head from side to side and he held both wrists with one hand and gripped her chin, leaning down until she could feel the warmth of his breath.

"He's always so protective, of helpless Felicity," Malcolm said, pressing a kiss to her captive lips. He moved his hand from her face, and over her chest, cupping her bare breast. Felicity fought the urge to twist away. She waited while Merlyn continued his speech, his face was flushed and he trembled with anger. His mask finally slipped away. "You love him so much, and you did everything he asked. But he still got excited when you were saying 'no'." He smiled while he taunted her. "He still got it up for you, he still made a mess inside you, and now you can't look him in the eye." His words revealed a greedy gleam in his blue eyes.

"You're wrong," she said, feeling tears drip out the corners of her eyes and run over her temples and into her hair. She closed her eyes then and sniffled. She could handle this, if only because she had to. It wasn't the end of the world, and she could always gouge his eyes out later. Not the end of the world. Malcolm Merlyn wasn't the first man on the planet to try to use his sexuality to dominate. He wouldn't be the last one either. She couldn't control what he did, but she could choose how she reacted.

"What are you thinking this will accomplish?" she asked. "What's in it for you?" Merlyn's hair fell over his face, giving him a youthful look. "I think I deserve some answers." She clenched her teeth to keep her lips from trembling. "Why come after me now?" She watched his expression, he had his poker face.

"Maybe I like the view," he said, quietly. His eyes moved over her bare torso. Felicity had a front row view of his pants.

"That's not it," she said, shaking her head. "I think you want the company."

"Your company is riveting at the moment." His voice was smooth and slippery again.

"I mean you want someone to join you in misery," she said, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice. He said nothing so she continued, trying to buy herself time. "Oliver is everything you wish you could be, he suffered a loss, just like you, but he fought every step of the way. He drove towards what he is now with purpose. You handed your soul off to the first person who could turn you into a killer." She shook her head, looking at each of his features in turn, his eyes, his cleft chin, his floppy hair and pretty bone structure. "You can't be like Oliver, so you want him to be like you. You want him to hurt the people he cares for, scare them off so he'll be alone and you'll have…what? A drinking buddy?"

"Get off her, Merlyn." Oliver stood in the doorway of her bedroom, his arrow was pointed at Merlyn's throat.

"Took your fucking time!" Felicity's voice was hoarse and high-pitched with near-hysteria.

"I'm not playing games with you, Merlyn."

"You can't control the bad things that happen to the ones you love. You couldn't even stop yourself from doing it."

"He doesn't remember going into the room," she said. "He had Versed in the tranquilizer." She gripped his wrists as he looked down at her. She didn't gloat, she was still underneath him and he could still probably kill her before Oliver's arrow killed him.

Oliver shook his head, whatever Merlyn was thinking, he wouldn't give him a chance. He fired and Merlyn wasn't fast enough to catch it. He groaned and slumped sideways. Fired from close range, the arrow carried a lot of power, even with a heavier, injection tip, and knocked him over. She rolled out from under him and reached for Oliver who was on his knees beside her. He reached behind them and grabbed the blanket he'd been using from the couch. He wrapped it around her shoulders and held her while she cried and stammered her way through the events that happened before he'd arrived. She gripped his face between her hands and kissed his lips, his cheek and the side of his neck before squeezing him tightly.

"It's okay, I'm here now."

"Should we call ARGUS?" she asked, hiccupping.

"Yeah."

Felicity's ears were ringing and her legs felt rubbery as she stood. When she started to fall, Oliver caught her and lifted her into his arms. He carried her to her bedroom and shut the door. She hadn't fainted, she was just in shock. He was proud of her for keeping her head until after the danger was gone. He grabbed a tank top from the end f her bed and helped her put it on. He made the call and secured Merlyn with several zip ties. The Cavalry was there in minutes, he guessed they'd either known where he might go, or had covered all likely places. They took their prisoner away and Oliver shut the door in Amanda Waller's face before she could speak.

Felicity's chest was contracting, painfully. Her breath came in ragged squeaks and hums; she had so many thoughts all at once she couldn't focus on one single thread that she could follow. Brain lock was what her mother had called it. It happened to her mother weekly, but Felicity had usually powered through the curtain of falling data and bumped around the bloated, useless info to get what she needed. Her mind was constantly cluttered like a teenage bedroom. But like most teens, she'd learned to navigate the mess to keep the clutter as part of the room. She pulled out what she needed and left the rest lying around. The clutter overwhelmed her at the moment.

"He's gone," Oliver said, feeling impotent as she continued to tremble and make small animal noises. "You're safe."

"Until-" she began, coughing and trying to breathe in long enough to form sentences. She wondered if she should get a paper bag. "-until the next time he gets out." She drew in a big breath and held it until the quaking in her chest slowed. She stood up and put on her pajama bottoms. "Do you have a gun?" she asked. "I mean a real one, with bullets? A little something I can keep under my pillow?"

"Not with me," he said. She sat back down next to him and he gently touched a reddish mark on the side of her nose with a dark center. She'd have a nasty bruise. "Do you want to be alone?"

"Definitely not." Oliver went out to his bike and grabbed his duffel, then he returned and stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt, slipping under the covers with Felicity. He held her until her breathing slowed and the tension left her body. He slept a few hours before waking slipping out of bed and quietly making his way to the bathroom. He turned on the shower, leaving the bathroom door cracked open so he could listen for her. He hadn't showered before leaving the foundry after working out with Diggle.

Oliver rolled his neck and let the hot water pound his face and chest. He was pleased that she used body wash that smelled like soap. The idea of having to return to bed smelling like cherry blossoms, or jasmine didn't appeal. He lathered up and was busily scrubbing away the gritty feeling of the foundry when he heard the door swing wide.

"Hey," Felicity said on the other side of the opaque, yellow curtain.

"Hey yourself," he replied. "I'll get out if you-"

"Nope," she said and stepped into the shower with him.

Oliver sucked in his breath at the sight that greeted him. Felicity reached past him and picked up the shampoo.

"I uh- you're really pretty." He sounded like a shy elementary school boy, he knew, but it was the only comment he could make when blood rapidly drained from his head and migrated lower. She smiled at him and lathered up her hair, switching places to stand under the spray. Her fingers scrubbed at her scalp, making her breasts bounce, and keeping him fascinated. She squeezed the soap out of her hair and let it cascade over her torso.

"I hope you don't mind sharing," she said, glancing down. "I guess you don't mind." She squirted soap onto her hands and washed her body, quickly. She didn't make a big show of rubbing soapy hands over her slick skin, but it didn't matter, Oliver was still riveted. "Thanks for staying, I really didn't want to be alone tonight." He nodded briefly, reluctantly dragging his gaze back to her face. "I'm glad you came to find me, and I'm glad you're okay." He tilted his head and she clarified, "I'd have understood if you wanted to back off from…us." She smiled shyly at him and ran her hands over her face, gingerly touching the bruise on her nose. "I'm still really glad you're here... with me." She swallowed self-consciously.

"You're really pretty."

Felicity laughed and Oliver smiled, reaching out for her and pulling her close. He embraced her, rubbing her warm, silky skin and closed his eyes, breathing with her. So many things could've happened and brought a very different conclusion to the events of the last few weeks. Clearly his feelings for her played a part in his response to the pheromone, but there was still a risk she could've been harmed by someone else while he was dosing her with it. A larger dose might have resulted in a lack of restraint in her bedroom and in captivity. He knew Diggle was right that his inherent protectiveness likely aided in his restraint, but he also knew that they'd been lucky. If Merlyn had decided to sedate her, or change the mixture of drugs, they might've been unable to recover from what happened between them.

Felicity focused on the positive, Oliver knew, his ability to deny his baser instincts. At the moment, his baser instinct was prodding at her belly. She pushed back from him slightly and ran her hands over his buttocks. He raised his eyebrows at her and she smiled; it wasn't a friendly smile. "What are you think- Oh!" Her hand moved to the front of him and she wrapped her fingers around his thick shaft.

"I'm finding my focus," she said, pleasantly. "I don't want to be afraid to touch you because I might remember something unpleasant." She moved her other hand to his shoulder. "Do you mind?"

"Uh, no." Her boldness pleased him. She wanted him as more than just a bodyguard and protector. She let her fingertips glide over his sleek muscles.

"You're so…perfect." She turned her face up and he dipped down to kiss her.

"Maybe a bit battered," he said.

"Even your scars," she said, insistently, "they texture the landscape, but they don't detract from it." She gave his erection a gentle squeeze, making him jump slightly. Her fingers gently explored the ridges of muscle and veins. Thick and heavy, a fine example of the physical evidence of desire.

Felicity pressed Oliver back against the tile of the shower wall and slowly dropped to her knees, kissing a path down his damp chest and abdomen. He dropped his head back as her mouth closed on him. He bit down on his lip when she started to suck. The heat and steam of the shower made him light-headed as she continued to work him with her hands and mouth. She ran her tongue around the shiny head, engorged to its maximum. She cupped his balls, rolling them gently in her palm and sliding him deep into her mouth. She gave a few sharp pulls with her mouth and placed one of her hands at his hip, as his legs started to tremble.

"Oh, God." he moaned, softly, sliding his hands into her wet hair and running his thumb along her jaw. He looked down and seeing the movement of her head, forward and back steadily, had him struggling to breathe. She increased her speed and he had to put his hand on the wall for support. His breath came in heavy gasps as he climaxed, gripping her shoulder, tightly. His vision went dark at the periphery for a moment and he steadied himself.

"Don't faint," Felicity, said, standing up. "Why don't you go lie down before you fall, I'll be out in a minute."

Oliver obeyed her order and stumbled out of the shower, feeling the air icy against his heated skin. He dried off and grabbed clean shorts from his bag and waited for her in the bed. When she returned, damp hair pulled back in a braid, she scooted against his side.

"Did I ever tell you about my trip to Tahiti?" he asked.

"No," she said, looking at him curiously. He placed a hand on her hip, tucking his thumb under the waistband.

"I surfed, I swam, I sat in the sun…"

"Are you trying to make me jealous?"

"No, I was just thinking about a popular pastime in Tahiti."

"What?"

"Pearl diving." He ducked under the covers and seized her hips, yanking down her bottoms. Felicity laughed as he wrestled her clothes free and pressing his lips to her, intimately.

"Huh, pearl diving," Felicity said, chuckling and remembering her vodka-fueled conversation with Laurel Lance regarding Oliver's bed prowess. She giggled as his hair tickled her thighs.

"Something funny?" he asked, lifting his head. It was covered by the sheet and he looked like a horny ghost. The vision made her laugh harder and she saw the shrouded head shake back and forth, slowly.

"Pearl diving," she snickered to herself, feeling relaxed and safe. She sighed as he returned to his previous activities. She felt her spine un-kink, as much from the laughter as from his current position. "Ah, that's –Oh God!" Her back arched and her toes curled. Remembering their first night together she avoided kicking him in the kidneys. He loved her with his mouth, gently at first and then, as she responded, he followed her signals and had her moaning his name when she climaxed. He came out from under the sheets with a devilish smile. He raised an eyebrow and reached into the nightstand drawer, taking out a condom and putting it on his re-animated erection.

"Ready to go again?"

"You're not human," she panted. "Okay, I'm game." She shifted beneath him and nodded when he gave her a questioning glance.

"You sure?"

"Yup," she nodded enthusiastically. "Go ahead and start, she said, gesturing to her lower half. "I'll catch up in a minute."

*The End*

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