Felicity had done a very good job of keeping it hidden.

The placement of it was very personal to her, it held a very intense meaning, but it was also highly visible. At first she had been more concerned with the meaning of the tattoo, than whether someone would see it. She knew that anyone that would even notice it, the people that she was closest to would ignore it out of respect.

She had gotten the tattoo as a memorial for the dead.

But then the dead returned.

And so her tattoo had gone into hiding. She had started to wear her hair down more often, her wardrobe suddenly had more scarves, more high neck sweaters. She never worked out around him if it could be avoided. It was hard at first, a conscious effort, but eventually it had become second nature and she rarely ever thought about it anymore.

Which would explain why, as she was sitting here with her shirt in her hands and her back to Oliver that she didn't even hesitate when he gruffly asked her to pull her hair away from her neck.

They had been on a mission tonight, and of course Felicity had eagerly volunteered to go undercover. And like usual when on an undercover mission she had gotten hurt. It could have been a lot worse of course, if she hadn't been training so heavily over the past year, but some creep had still managed to slice into her left shoulder pretty good. Good enough to need stitches.

Oliver had fussed over her enough once they got back to the foundry that she had yelled at him. That had helped clear the room quite nicely and so here they were, all alone and he was finally getting to play doctor on her.

If Felicity hadn't been so irritated by his mother hen attitude and so upset over losing yet another cute top, she may have rethought the idea of being basically topless in front of him. The dangers of being topless, in conjunction with leaving her neck bare didn't occur to her until she felt his hand freeze on her shoulder. For a split second she was confused, thinking maybe she had started to bleed again. But then it hit her and she simultaneously squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lower lip to keeping from gasping.

Oliver stayed silent for a good ten seconds, one hand still frozen on her wound, the other hovering just above the nape of her neck. She had a fleeting thought that he would just let it go. But then he stepped away from her so quickly that she heard him back into her office chair. She groaned and turned around on the stool to face him, pulling her top over herself to cover her bra. She kept her eyes on the floor and chewed at her lips, not wanting to be the first to talk, a foreign feeling for her.

"You-" He started, and not liking the harshness of his voice he cleared his throat. "You have a, uh-" He said, his voice rough and he waved his hand in her vague direction and closed his eyes, bringing his other hand up to squeeze the bridge of his nose.

"Yup." She said simply, popping the 'p'. She still refused to look up at him.

"When?" He asked softly. "I uh, I mean how long?" He corrected, as he backed up to lean on her desk.

"When you were gone. I needed something that I could remember you by." She answered him, her tone very matter of fact. She finally brought her eyes up to his and she saw nothing but confusion there.

He knew what she was referring to without being told. No one really liked to talk about his trip up the mountain or his descent.

"And a tattoo was your solution?" He asked her, cocking an eyebrow.

Felicity stiffened at that. She could hear the judgment in his tone and it made her bristle. She sighed and attempted to keep her tone even. "Well, it seemed appropriate at the time. I needed to have a part of you. A part of what we were. And given my history, I also needed something to save my neck, in a very literal sense. So it seemed very rational. I have my Arrow to protect me." She finished off quietly, never taking her eyes off of him. "You were gone, Oliver. And like I've said before, you don't get to pass judgment on how we dealt with that." There was no venom in her voice, but she felt very defensive over her choice and wouldn't let him tarnish it's meaning.

She was surprised when he just nodded, his hands now shoved in his pockets. He looked around the foundry and waited a beat and then ran his eyes over her again before they went back to the floor.

"There are three of them. Why three?" This time he only sounded curious, the slight panic was gone from his voice.

"You weren't the only one that was gone, Oliver. The entire team was in shambles and we were all struggling to put ourselves back together. I love Roy and Laurel, but while you were gone it was really hard to think of them as a part of what we started. So I wanted a memorial for not just you, but for what we were in the beginning. The original Team Arrow. Three of us, three arrows." She wondered idly if he could hear her heart. She felt like it was echoing off the walls and she felt like she was going to collapse from how fast it was beating.

"I asked you to stop calling us that." He said quietly, a small smirk on his lips and she could tell that he was using his patented Ollie Queen escape tactics to avoid this conversation from getting anymore real. But she had been hiding an important part of herself for way too long now and she was exhausted. She took in a deep breathe and let out a hollow chuckle.

"Yeah, well you also tried to get me to stop loving you. That didn't take either. Get used to it." If he hadn't heard her heart before, he certainly could now. She was two seconds away from a heart attack. She starred at him for what felt like hours, willing her heart to stop pounding in her ears so that she would hear his response. But none ever came. Her eyes fluttered and she snapped her mouth shut, and she felt overcome with an insane desire to laugh. But she didn't, instead she just pursed her lips and started to pull her ripped and bloody shirt over her head, not caring how gross it was.

It probably only took her a good 90 seconds to get herself situated, all of her clothing righted again and she reached into the purse at her feet and pulled out a hair tie. She carefully pulled her hair back into a messy bun, being mindful of her still open wound and didn't look at Oliver as she got ready to leave. Once she was ready she did glance over at him and rolled her eyes at the cry face that she had grown used to over the past few years.

This time she felt no sympathy for him, this wasn't something that had been done to him, he was doing this to himself.

To them.

She started to walk over to the stairs and threw her hand up in a wave. "See you tomorrow, boss."

She made it up three steps before he stopped her. She heard him a split second before she saw him, just enough time to brace herself so that when he pulled her to face him she didn't fall on her face.

She was startled and wanted to snap at him for manhandling her, but that train of thought quickly left the station when he pulled her forward the rest of the way and slammed his lips onto hers. She briefly thought that the added height of the stairs made them equals, but the he tilted his mouth over hers and his hand was cupping her tattoo and she stopped thinking.

It all happened so quickly. One second she was gasping for breath on the steps, staring into the eyes of her boss/friend/partner and watching his pupils turn the darkest shade of blue she had ever seen, and the next she had her legs wrapped around his hips, and he was walking her over to the medical table and using the arm not gripping her ass to shove all supplies to the floor.

She gasped when she came into contact with the cold metal, her thighs gripping Oliver's hips tighter and he growled against her neck. The sound made the ache in her stomach throb so she did it again and smiled when he bit down lightly in retaliation. She thrilled at the feel of his lips on her skin and slowly started to grind herself against him, delighting in the fact that she could feel how much this was effecting him too. She ran her hands over her shoulders and up to his face, to pull him from her neck and back to her mouth. All she could think of at this point was getting as close to him as possible and that meant less clothing. She moved her hands down his sides and started to pull at his shirt and he got the hint, pulling away from her long enough to rip it over his head. Taking his lead, she quickly worked to divest herself of her top, and nearly made it but then the fabric caught on her wound and she yelped in pain.

Felicity in pain was pretty much the equivalent of an ice bucket challenge on Oliver's libido and he quickly stepped away from her.

Mood ruined, and her wound now bleeding again, they both decided to delay the naughty stuff for some much needed medical attention. Half an hour later her shoulder was stitched and had an expertly applied bandage. The air was thick with tension and unspoken questions.

"So-" She started, and raised her hand to her lips, feeling that they were still swollen from their earlier actions.

"Yeah." He said, his hand on the back of his neck as he stood in front of her, and he looked almost bashful.

She finally decided to take pity on him and smiled lightly. "Are you just like, totally starving?"

He let out a soft laugh that seemed to be reserved solely for her and nodded. "I am actually."

She slipped down from the stool and grabbed her top, pulling it over her head and smiled. "Cool. I say we stop at that 24 hour diner on the way to my place." She said heading towards the stairs for the second time that night, this time waiting for him to follow.

"Yeah, okay. Wait? Your place?" He asked curiously, grabbing his jacket and slipping in on as he followed her up the stairs.

She turned back to him and smirked. "Yeah. And make sure you order a lot of protein. You're gonna need it."

The next morning they lay in bed for hours. She traced his tattoos with the same reverence that he did hers and they talked in soft murmurs, not wanting to disturb the air around them. She had her head resting on his bare chest and her hair was pulled away from her neck, so he could see his mark on her at all times. The mark that she had gotten as a sign of the protection only he could provide her.

"Hey." He whispered to her, his fingers running through her hair and she opened her eyes a little and smiled at him.

"Yeah?"

"I'm curious-" He started "What did the tattoo guy think when you ask him for an Arrow tattoo. I mean that had to seem weird, considering it's the mark of a vigilante." He reasoned and looked confused when she let out a husky laugh.

"Oh, yeah that." She said with a smirk, her voice rough from sleep and overuse. "He actually wasn't all that surprised. Apparently there have been a lot of fan girls over the past few years coming to get Arrow related tattoos. It appears that you have a fanbase. Captain Arrow."