VII.

Oliver's mind instantly drew up a blank. He had never heard of someone with the alias Watchtower and his fear for Felicity somewhat calmed. There was simply no way they could be looking for her. He responded to the woman by shaking his head slowly, but didn't withdraw his arrow. Oliver wasn't about to lower his defenses when he still needed answers.

"She wouldn't recognize the name," she elaborated. "I guess it's more fair to say that I'm here under 'Project Watchtower', it seemed kind of fitting to give her that name as well." The shrug that she then made was strangely childish and out of place given the situation.

"Who is it exactly that you're looking for?" Oliver demanded, feeling his patience with the brunette running thin, while she seemed to be in no rush.

She clicked her tongue at him, making him grit his teeth at the chastising tone she adopted. "You don't really think I'm just going to answer everything you ask me do you? That whole: revealing your big plans thing is so overdone and quite frankly, a little stupid."

"Then I'll just have to take you down." He growled out slowly.

She smirked at him, the expression strange on her lovely face. "I'm not someone you could 'take down' Oliver Queen. Put your toys away."

Her casual use of his name is what did it.

Anger seized Oliver, and before he could fully register what he was doing, he had let the arrow fly. The woman reacted with a speed that disoriented him for just the briefest of moments. She squatted down instantly, her right leg extending to her side to balance herself. Her hands went to her back and drew two mid-sized, diamond shaped daggers from inside a pouch strapped to her belt. She threw them at him, the dark metal of the daggers making them almost invisible as they flew through the air. He managed dodge them - but only just barely - and still felt the biting sting as one managed to cut his cheek.

Oliver spun around, reaching for another arrow as he did. He was too late though. The woman had already sprinted towards him, two more daggers already clutched tightly in her fists, the ends of the handles rounded and wrapped around her index fingers like rings, the blades pointed away from her thumbs and away from her body. She slashed at him, the move fast and calculated. He stepped back, trying to put distance between them, but he quickly found that it wouldn't work. For every step he took back she pushed forward, all the while throwing quick and deadly jabs and slashes with her daggers. It took every ounce of skill he had to dodge them, and even then he couldn't dodge them all. A bead of sweat flew from his face as he leaned back, the blade in her right hand slicing right through the air where his nose had been not a second before.

Every time she got him - his forearm, shoulder, torso; leaving deep cuts that flowed with blood - he could feel a burning erupt from the wounds. He felt tired when the adrenaline should have invigorated him, his muscles already crying in protest with every subsequent move he made to evade her.

Oliver made the first real mistake.

He lashed out with his bow, using the metal of the upper limb as a makeshift baton. She seemed to have been expecting this though, because she spun the dagger in her right hand and stopped it as the thumb pressed against the handle. She threw an upward slash and sliced clean through the string of the bow.

Oliver dropped the bow quickly, now useless for long distance with the bowstring cut clean through. He raised his fists and attempted to use his longer reach to stop her attacks. He blocked by swatting at her wrists and forearms, batting her slashes away, and for a second it seemed to work. She took a step back and then another. He fought harder, now attempting to grab hold of her wrists and disarm her, growing bolder as the tables began to turn around. He could win this fight. He could make sure that she told him everything. He could make absolutely certain that this "Watchtower" wasn't Felicity.

She kicked him, and the blow was unexpectedly crippling as his right leg buckled out from under him. Oliver fell to the ground and landed on top his bow and his arrows fell out of his quiver, the sharp metallic heads clattering noisily against the concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse. His eyes widened in shock as he realized that he'd been defeated, his gaze focused on the woman who now stood above him. The position she was in left her every possible opening to kill him if she so decided. Oliver refused to close his eyes. The moment he did so it would be akin to giving up and accepting death, and Oliver wasn't about to give up.

"I told you I wasn't somebody you could beat." Her voice was low, calm, and betrayed no exhaustion from the fight she had just won. It angered him that she seemed to unfazed.

"Oliver!" Felicity's voice screamed in his ear and he felt as if a weight had been dropped onto his chest, crushing it. For reasons that had nothing to do with his physical defeat, he found that he couldn't breathe. "Oliver get up!" Felicity pleaded him.

He had to get up. She was waiting for him, back at the foundry. He had to get up! Get up!

He tried, sweat breaking out on his forehead with the effort he exerted, but his leg was unresponsive. He could feel it, the uncomfortable edge of the bow he had dropped digging into his calf where he had landed on top of it, but every command, every movement he tried to make just didn't occur. It didn't make any sense, she hadn't done more than kick him. He wasn't even sure where on his leg the blow had landed, all he knew was that whatever she had done had rendered it useless.

"Don't bother getting up dear, I'll show myself out." She declared, putting her daggers away. He heard the sound of metal scraping against concrete as she collected the other two she had thrown at him earlier. Oliver twisted around, craning his neck to get a look at her. She reached the same door he had used to enter, then stopped for a second and raised her fingers to her ear, pressing against something there. A triumphant smile lit up her features and he was sure that he saw laughter dancing in her eyes as she looked at him.

"Looks like the red one still has a lot to learn." She remarked. "I'll see you around handsome."

"Oliver what happened?"

The sound of Felicity and Diggle demanding answers of him in unison made him lift an eyebrow at the two of them. It had taken a good ten minutes before his leg began to respond to him and even now - as he walked into the foundry supporting a half conscious Roy - it felt strangely limp, every movement he commanded it to do happening a second later than it should have.

"I was beaten." He bit out, gritting his teeth. If there was anything worse than the slight widening of Diggle's eyes as he tried and failed to contain his surprise, it was the look of utter concern that washed over Felicity. Not because she was concerned for him - because in all reality it made his heart feel just a little lighter - but because of the reason behind her concern. It was childish, and Oliver knew that if he so much as voiced his reasons he wouldn't hear the end of it tonight, but he felt insecure now. He really didn't like being bested in a fight.

Diggle walked over and took Roy from Oliver, who tried not to sigh in relief at the weight of his partner being taken off him. But comfort came in the form of Felicity who - in her usual fretting and somewhat endearing manner - ushered him over to the metallic table.

Unbidden the memory of that night all those months ago comes back to him, of her soft hand on his cheek as she thought he slept. An uncharacteristic feeling of warmth rose in his chest, and he had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. Oliver was silent as she worked on him, her hands shaking just a little over the numerous cuts he'd sustained. They were deep, but not too deep and soon Felicity managed to stop the flow of blood from many of them, but wrapped them up just the same as the ones that she couldn't. He tried not to think about it too much, it definitely wasn't the time or place, but suddenly he noticed that she was much gentler than she needed to be.

Diggle was by no means gentle when he helped Oliver clean up the many wounds he managed to obtain when out in the field, and he had learned never to ask Roy after one disastrous occasion that still had him wincing just a little at the memory. The boy should never be trusted with stitches, or needles for that matter.

Felicity's touch was warm and soft, and left little trails of fire wherever they lingered over his skin. He closed his eyes, and for a moment let himself enjoy the feeling.

He had waited this long, it was only fair that he got to enjoy the moment after all.

Felicity

Damn, stupid, perfectly-muscled-body. Her hands shook slightly as she pressed the bandages to the cuts along his arms. After months of not doing this and letting Oliver patch himself up, it felt nice to settle back into old routines. And by nice she absolutely did not mean the way his sculpted muscles felt underneath her busy hands.

Perhaps what she enjoyed the most was the fact that she could do this - be close to him - without feeling like a dirty traitor. Her breakup with William had been mature, and she was pretty sure that such was the way well-put-together adults handled those types of things. Sure it still hurt when she walked by his door on the way to hers, but the feelings of guilt she felt for the small tremor of pleasure that seized her whenever Oliver touched her were by far worse. She had locked up and sealed shut that box of emotions and shoved it firmly down into the smallest corner of her heart. She was done waiting.

Oliver's small hiss of pain brought her back to the task at hand and she blushed a little as she realized that she had practically zoned out while working on him.

"All done!" She declared happily, dusting her hands off dramatically for some added effect.

"Actually I need to check my leg."

He stood up then, and before she could protest - or even think about what he was doing - he was pushing the leather of his pants down.

She hoped the flush that she could feel spread across her neck and chest wouldn't show. Felicity leaned over his leg, inspecting it for any sign that it too had met the sharp end of a blade, but she couldn't seem to find anything wrong with it.

"Umm Oliver, what's wrong with your leg?" He frowned at her, meeting her confused gaze with a questioning one of his own.

"What do you mean?"

"Well… there's no cuts on it, no bruises, it doesn't really look like anything. I mean of course it's a very nice leg, you obviously don't skip leg day. There's so much… muscle everywhere." God kill me now! She thought. Her hands moved of their own accord and pressed against the firm muscle of his leg, testing it gently by putting small amounts of pressure. Never mind the burning of her cheeks.

"Do you feel that?" She couldn't help the bit of pride she felt at being able to keep her voice steady. Her eyes meet his blue ones, and they were a couple shades darker than usual. Her throat felt very dry all of a sudden, and she couldn't help the heat the coiled in the pit of her belly.

"Yes," it's little more than a whisper, but it carries more weight than she was ready to think about at the moment. His frown distracts her and she secretly thanks her lucky stars. "She did something to me though. I couldn't move my leg, but I could… can still feel it."

"Oliver… for you to suddenly lose feeling in your leg like that it would have to be a pretty severe blow. We'd see signs of some sort of deep muscle bruising, and from where I'm standing I don't see a thing."

John's interruption snapped them both back to the foundry. Felicity felt like she could breathe properly again and only just now realized that she'd been holding her breath as she looked at Oliver. She was literally going crazy, it hadn't been this bad before… had it?

But there were more important things to think about right then and there, and she forced herself to stay in the moment, shutting down all those feelings and twisting Oliver's leg in front of her as gently as she could. She and John had been right though. There was nothing there that could indicate the kind of damage it had suffered.

From his confused and worried gaze Felicity gathered that Oliver was very much concerned about whatever had happened. Before she could lose herself in his eyes again - because seriously they were deep and pretty and just so blue - she heard Roy begin to stir behind her, groaning his displeasure.

"Roy!" Felicity suddenly jumped up and walked over to him, internally grateful for the chance to put some physical space between her and the gorgeous half naked man on the metallic table. In the twenty or so minutes it had taken her to wrap Oliver up in bandages the boy in red had managed to completely come around.

"What happened?" Roy mumbled, holding his right hand to his forehead. He grimaced and groaned as his tried to move his left hand from where it rested on the arm of Felicity's chair. "I can't move my hand." He finally raised his gaze to meet the rest of them, and the fear in them made Felicity's stomach drop.

"Can you feel it though?" Oliver asked calmly beside her. Roy moved his right hand from his face and massaged the left one gingerly. A crease appeared in his brow as he slowly worked his way down the entire arm.

"Yeah… actually I think… I can kind of move my fingers a little…" The digits of his left hand began to twitch, just small movements, but it was enough that the worry Felicity felt began to fade just a little. Satisfied that the damage didn't seem to be permanent, she returned her attention to Oliver, making sure that every bandage was securely placed. It was definitely more attention than was necessary, and she was sure Oliver would dislodge or move most of them out of place with his careless movement before the night was out. Felicity didn't seem to care though, as she kept checking and rechecking the bandages, desperate for something to do.

"What happened out there Roy?" John asked, his tone betraying the impatience he had been fighting

Roy gave them each a look that Felicity instantly recognized, because she had worn it before, back when she had failed against the Clock King's initial attack on their system. It was a look of shame mixed with confusion and disbelief.

"I don't remember," he confessed. "I don't even think I fought anyone, I was watching the building like Oliver had asked me to, and then the next thing I knew he was trying to get me up from the ground." He frowned again, his brow creasing in concentration. "I'm not missing any arrows and everything else is in place."

"It means you were taken by surprise." Oliver clarified. "There's no shame in that Roy, it happens to all of us."

"No kidding," Diggle chimed in, looking more than a little chagrinned.

"If it makes you feel any better, every time I go on the field I get taken hostage. I mean sure, it's always intentional kind of, but still they always catch me by surprise… Now that I think about it I should probably train a little harder with John. It would be nice to be the one taking by surprise." Her eyes widened as she realized some of the possible implications of what she had just said. "Not to sound rape-y or anything. I just meant that it'd be cool to be a kick-ass fighter like you guys."

"Felicity," Oliver's hand came to rest on her shoulder, and she turned around to face him. Little butterflies erupted in her belly as she gauged the expression in his eyes. She could see the pain at having been reminded of her captivity every time she went into the field (perhaps not the best thing to say), and a kindness that seemed to be reserved just for her. "You are kick-ass." He said, a small smile bringing up the corners of his lips.

Felicity smiled in return, unconsciously leaning towards him. Oliver seemed to lean in as well, until their faces were just inches apart. She looked down nervously at his lips, and liked her own as the unbidden thought of what it would be like to press hers against his crossed her mind. Oliver's eyes darkened a couple shades as his gaze fell to where her tongue had passed over her bottom lip.

They completely missed the look that Roy and John exchanged, eyebrows raised and eyes just a little wide.

"We're going to get going." John mumbled, only too eager to remove himself from the area.

"We are?" asked a confused Roy, looking just a little taken aback. He hadn't regained complete use of his arm, and he would have been lying if he said he hadn't been expecting to just relax at the foundry for a little while.

"Yes Roy, we are." John deadpanned, before grabbing Roy by the arm of his red jacket. The two promptly climbed the stairs and left the foundry, John practically dragging a reluctant Roy out. In their haste - or rather John's - it didn't seem to occur to either one of them that Roy still had his leathers on.

The air between Oliver and Felicity seemed electric. Oliver reached up and cupped her face - a gesture so intimate that it almost startled her - his thumb brushing gently over her bottom lip. Slowly he tugged at it, releasing it from the worrying grip of her teeth. She hadn't even noticed she'd begun to bite it. "You should be careful," Oliver whispered, his voice just a little huskier than usual. "You could hurt yourself."

"I've had worse," she babbled without thinking. Oliver flinched at her words, and Felicity found herself backpedaling, internally cursing herself for being so careless with her mouth. "I meant self inflicted, I sprained my ankle once because I was working on my tablet while I was walking and a cyclist decided to attack me with their bike."

"A cyclist attacked you with their bike?" an amused Oliver asked.

"Attacked. I didn't see him and stepped right into his path. I really fail to see the difference."

"Some would argue that the difference is very prominent Felicity."

"Well lucky for me I know I have you to defend should a spandex clad IT-girl hater ever decides that their tire tracks belong on my face." His lips quirked with amusement.

"I'll always protect you Felicity."

She reached down and grabbed his hand, bringing it up between them. Her fingers traced the lines of his palm, caressed the calloused pads of his fingers. "Always," she whispered, somehow the words sounding like a promise.

Her eyes met his; blue on blue and she found herself thinking about everything that had happened the last couple months. She could do this. She hadn't given up William for nothing, she just had to take it slow. It wasn't a race after all, and if she was being honest, her break up with William still kind of hurt.

So she did the only thing that seemed to make sense. She brought his hand higher, placing her mouth on his knuckles, letting her lips gently brush over the the hands that had done so much for a city that would never know him for what he was.

It was strange, just a little bit. Felicity was almost positive it was supposed to be the other way around, and that Oliver should be the one kissing her hand. Isn't that what always happened in the movies?

They weren't normal though. Everything about their relationship was completely different from everything that she had ever seen or read about before. In a way, it made her like it even more. It made it different; unique. Just like Oliver himself.

She pressed his hand up against his chest, right over his heart.

"Always," repeated Oliver, echoing her promise.

Oliver

If someone were to ask Oliver if he was nervous or not, he was pretty sure that the only response they would receive would be some form of strangled noise that sounded somewhere between a groan and a cry for help.

The last time he had opened up to Felicity… hadn't had the most favorable of outcomes. Of course that had purely been his fault. He had known what he needed to do. Not only had Thea sent it to him in the form of a highly perceptive and somewhat scarily accurate text, but Diggle also taken it upon himself to educate Oliver on just how much of an idiot he was being.

The sound of the bamboo sticks clashing together echoed loudly inside the foundry, each subsequent clash louder than the last. Felicity had come into the office that day looking happier than Oliver could recall happening recently. He knew that she had gone out with that William guy the night before. Even if he only knew because Diggle had let it slip the night before when she was leaving the foundry - and then had subsequently eyed Oliver with a mischievous glint in his eye - he still didn't like the idea of Felicity seeing anybody they didn't know all that well. Back then he had told himself he was simply being protective of someone who was close to him.

It was only fair now that Oliver take out his frustrations out on Diggle, in the form of a sound beating during their training sessions. Diggle still struggled to keep up when Oliver switched up the speed of his strikes, and he used it to his advantage as he took a particularly vicious swing at his ribs.

"Oliver what the hell?"

"Gotta keep up Diggle."

Diggle however lowered his sticks, scowling. "Why do I get the feeling that this is some form of payback?"

"What makes you think that?" said Oliver a little too innocently.

"Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Felicity had a hot date last night, and tonight as well."

At this Oliver pulled a face, "It has nothing to do with that."

"I'm sure it doesn't, but at the risk of getting another broken rib let me just say something. If Felicity dating someone really bothers you, maybe it's time you finally did something about it."

"Diggle-"

"No let me finish." Diggle interrupted, holding up a hand. "I think the reason you're so mad lately is that you finally realized just how much Felicity actually means to you, and I mean as more than just a friend. I say this with a lot of love Oliver, nut up and do something about it."

"That doesn't particularly sound like it comes from a place of love."

"It's called tough love Oliver. Everyone needs it every now and then."

The rest of course had occurred in the manner in which it had, meaning he had stupidly decided that waiting was the best course of action. If Oliver was being honest now the real reason he had decided to stall talking to Felicity was that he was simply afraid of what it would mean for them. Not just as teammates, but as friends as well.

He had used every overplayed and cliched excuse in the book. What if it didn't work out? What if they couldn't go back to the way things were? What if she said no? The latter of course she actually had, but that had been his own fault.

So now he was faced with the simple decision as to when. As Roy had been so kind as to point out earlier: "A break doesn't technically mean they're done for good, if 'someone' were to take too long I think they could get back together. I've been told I would make an excellent ring bearer in the future." The glare Oliver had sent his way after that particular statement had Roy grinning and suppressing laughter. He was more than positive now that he didn't particularly like their brand of tough love. His enemies gave him an easier time.

His palms were sweaty.

It unnerved him more than he was willing to admit. He hadn't been so nervous as to have sweaty palms since long before the island. If anyone else were watching her, they would probably say she was pretty and quirky. But because it was Oliver, because he always watched her even when he himself didn't know exactly why, he would say she was beautiful. And perfect.

He had been fooling himself.

They had finished their work at Queen Consolidated as quickly as they could. There was a new threat out in the streets, apart from the woman that had beaten him. Oliver still didn't know who that woman was looking for, and a small part of him still feared Felicity was her intended target. Her trail had gone cold though, and while he was more than happy to continue to chase down each and every inevitable dead end, Diggle had been even happier to remind him that there were still other threats out there.

This new threat was as familiar as it was new. There were rumors of a new drug lord out there, someone dangerous and looking for power in all the wrong places. What substance he was pushing, or even which gang he had taken leadership of was still a mystery. They were of course only rumors, but they - his team and him - weren't about to let some new criminal stake a claim in their city.

He walked behind her at a leisurely pace, watching as her hair - swept up in its usual ponytail - swung wildly, brushing against her bared shoulders. She had chosen to wear another one of her short, tantalizing skirts that day a floral blouse that left her shoulders deliciously bare. His hands itched to caress that skin that was there.

It was now or never.

"Felicity… would you like to go out to dinner with me?"

The words were out of his mouth, sounding much more steady than he currently felt.

She froze, one foot comically still raised off the ground, her shoulders stiffening and then quickly relaxing. The heel of her impossibly high white stiletto touched the ground first. Oliver's throat was terribly dry, but he forced himself to swallow anyway, desperately trying to clear away the lump that had risen there.

"I don't want to read to much into this… but are you asking me out on a date… like an actual date? Like a date-date?" She almost smiled.

"S-I mean, the implication being with dinner that you-"

"Usually I'm the one talking in sentence fragments." She interrupted, her lovely face lighting up with amusement.

He paused for a moment, looking up and away from her eyes as he tried to clear his head a little. Oliver only needed a tiny moment of clarity before his gaze met hers again, this time his resolve solidifying. He wouldn't mess this up again.

A small huff of laughter escaped him and he grinned widely, almost foolishly. "Would you like to go to dinner with me?"

Her lack of hesitation was more than he could have ever hoped for.

"Yes."

AN: I think you can all tell that I stole a couple lines there. Will this date have the same outcomes as the one in Arrow 301? Probably, but you never really know until you read the next chapter.

That being said, I received some incredible and inspiring reviews for the last chapter that honestly made me ten different kinds of happy. I do wish more readers would review, I am incredibly rusty trying to get back into my writing habits and the muse isn't always as cooperative as I would like her to be, but for those of you who did review, I responded to all the ones I could and tried to for the ones I couldn't. Feel free to skip my ramblings, I usually try not to insert too much of them.

Please please please review! The more I get, the sooner the next chapter will be finished. ;). Is he serious? Only one way to find out.

MUST READ!

Sneak Peak at Chapter 8:

The lights of her apartment were already turned on as she walked in. She frowned her confusion, positive that she had turned them off before she left earlier. Grateful that William had repair the door handle for her all those months ago and that as a result she had been extra quiet as she made her way in, she slipped off her heels. Barefoot she made her way through her tiny hallway, as quiet as she could possibly be, and into her small living room. A figure stood by the window, backed turned to her as they looked out at her not too impressive view of the street outside.

"Hi, Felicity."