AN: I've decided to just put the second one up, because they're not very long. Also because I do like this part too! I'm going to be really greedy and mention the fact that I like reviews/ideas/criticisms too. Pretty please? xo
(Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or anything from Arrow. Just the ideas my crazy mind comes up with.)
Felicity looked at the time again, before casting her eyes back at the computer screen in front of her. It was half seven, and there was still no sign of Diggle.
Not that she was complaining. Training really wasn't something she looked forward to.
Especially when it was every other day now.
But both Diggle and Oliver agreed that it was the best for her. Ever since that bomb necklace around her neck, Diggle had bullied her into learning at least basic self defense. Though that had been months ago, and they moved on from defensive to offensive rather quickly.
Which wasn't easy for a woman who hardly had any balance, not to mention hand-eye coordination.
"Hey Felicity."
She swiveled round in her chair and smiled as Oliver walked into the Foundry, a bag of food in one hand and dry cleaning in another.
"Hi. Is that take out?" she asked, eyes wide when the smell of food hit her. Oh holy God, it smelt like Chinese.
"Yep, picked up some Chinese on the way, thought you might be hungry," he replied, setting the bag on the desk before moving to hang up the clean suit on the rail.
"Hungry? I've been craving Chinese for so long. Sweet and sour prawns!" she exclaimed as she literally dived into the bag, "I could kiss you right now, excuse me while I die and go to heaven for a moment."
Oliver froze, her comment throwing him off guard. It had been a few weeks since they had started building a tentative friendship, when they had fallen asleep together while watching Supernatural. It had done nothing to stop the desire that was burning within him - everything she did, in all her quirkiness, appealed to him.
It took Felicity a moment to realize what she had said. Blinking, she looked up at him, and saw that he was staring at her, a look of bewilderment evident on his face.
"Not that I'm actually going to kiss you. I don't want to kiss you - not that you don't have a kissable face - oh god - it's just that its obvious you're attractive. But I don't want to kiss you - it was a figure of speech - and are you not going to say anything?" she said, giving up. She was going to have to buy some sort of surgical filter to stop her from speaking her mind all the time. Especially to Oliver.
"I was thinking we should eat now," he said, trying hard not to show how effected he was from her words. All he could imagine was her, body flush against his as he kissed her.
Imagining was still better than actually carrying the deed out.
"Y-yeah. Do you know where Diggle is?" she remembered when she looked up at the time again.
"He said he has a dinner date with Carly, so he won't be swinging by here today. Why?" Oliver asked as he pulled out the cartons of food.
"Oh, I didn't even know. Wait, I think he told me, but I must have forgotten. We normally train at seven so I was just wondering," she explained, giving him a pair of chopsticks.
"How about you train with me today?"
Felicity nearly tripped over her own feet. Though he had been the one to suggest self defense lessons, he hadn't volunteered to train her, and she had an idea as to why it probably was better for Diggle to teach her. Oliver's control wasn't as great as Diggle's, having learnt all his fighting and defence techniques on a supposedly isolated island with men who probably weren't as civilized as Diggle was to her.
"With you? What if you snap my neck or something? Haven't you seen your own muscles?" she blurted out, her voice colored with disbelief.
Oliver rolled his eyes, wanting to laugh at her comment.
"Come on. We can't let you miss a lesson. Go get changed into your gear and I'll set up," his tone left no room for an argument.
"But… The food," she groaned, and he let himself chuckle.
"We'll heat it up after we're done. Now, go get changed. You're not scared, are you? You can trust me," he teased, and she nearly blurted out that she was. Oh, she was definitely scared.
How was she supposed to fend him off when he looked like that?
When she stepped toward the training area, she nearly whimpered. He was shirtless and in a pair of track bottoms. Her over active mind went into overdrive as she imagined him touching her.
"So, what has Diggle been teaching you…" he trailed off as he looked up at her. There she stood, in a flimsy tank top and a pair of sweats, her hair up in a bun again, her hands rubbing her bare arms.
Her skin looked so soft.
He felt the familiar tightening in his gut again, and tried to shake away the thoughts that were very vivid all of a sudden in his mind.
"We've been practicing hand to hand combat skills again. He's testing me, to see how much I remember. Not that anything is actually wrong with my memory, I just can't defend myself to save my life," she said ironically, moving over on the mat.
"Alright then, we'll practice until you can save your life," Oliver retorted back, and told her to take her position.
He definitely wasn't Diggle.
He came at her, fast and merciless. But he never hurt her. She had been worried he would, that he wouldn't realize just how strong he was. But she didn't realize that she had been learning, and the defensive moves came to her naturally.
He swung; she blocked. He grabbed for her; she rolled away. He jabbed; she swung.
Time was lost to the both of them.
They carried on, both sweaty and breathing harshly. She deflected his punch, but she didn't anticipate the swift foot hooking behind her ankles.
She landed on the floor with Oliver on top.
The air around them changed; something snapped, and the sparks exploded.
She looked into his blue eyes, her lips parted as she tried to slow down her breathing. He was staring at her mouth, her gloriously full, plump, painted mouth. He looked at her then, and she swore she heard the gentle sigh that her heart gave.
She felt right under him.
He felt right on her.
He leaned forward, and she nearly instinctively leaned up. His breath mingled with hers, his nose nearly touching hers.
"Dead," he whispered, and pushed up on his palms, breaking the spell.
They had the food cold.