I would really love if we got more information on Felicity's background, like her family and stuff. Grr argh! Can't wait until they develop her character more.

Enough about that. For the story I want to stick the tv series as much as possible (of course I'll take some liberties with the content of the show), so here's a chapter about what was going on with Felicity for the six weeks between Year's End and Burned.

Hope you guys like it.

Felicity:

"Another firefighter has tragically died in a fire..."

Felicity sat on her overstuffed couch, her tablet in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. She was wrapped in a blanket, reclined on assorted pillows. Her TV was on the news channel, volume turned down low.

Six weeks.

Six weeks and Felicity still hadn't heard anything from Oliver. Or from her boss for that matter. The closest contact she'd had was Mr. Diggle. He'd come over to install an alarm system at Oliver's behest, the day after he broke in. At the time Felicity hadn't needed to question Oliver's personal bodyguard about Oliver nor did she know if Diggle was in on the secret. Then there was the people at work, but they knew nothing either. The whole company was up in a heap at the loss of another CEO.

She'd resorted to religiously watching the news to see if there was any mention of the vigilante or Mr. Steele reappearance, but nothing so far. Just news reports about their absence. It was like they'd been dragged into the Twilight Zone. Maybe they had; anything was possible at this stage. She tried visiting the house and calling, but she was turned away every time. She was given the same reason why, each time; the family weren't up for visitors or talking due to Mr. Steele disappearance. He hadn't been seen since the night she'd spoken to him on the phone. His final words to her still rang in her head.

"I'm stepping into an elevator, so I'll probably lose you..."

Little, did they know that Mr. Steele would be the one lost. Felicity's instincts screamed that his disappearance wasn't a coincidence. His investigation into the list was related; she just couldn't figure out how yet. But she also had to be careful. The only thing keeping her safe, was that no one knew about her involvement. She had to keep it that way, except something was telling her that she should share the information she had with Oliver. Although, he seemed to have a penchant for killing the unsavoury characters of Starling, he had never hurt an innocent.

If someone had told Felicity that Oliver Queen was going around dressing up like the Incredible Hulk (the green leather did look good on him) and terrorising Starling's corrupt, she would have spat in their face (because she would have been drinking something at the time, naturally). But here he was, after five years on an island whose name, literately translated, meant purgatory (according to Catholicism purgatory is the purification which we must undergo when we die in God's grace and friendship, but are still imperfect). She couldn't imagine what Oliver had been through to create such an intimidating alter ego. It was like a modern day case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

The only thing Felicity knew for certain right now, was that Oliver wasn't dead. Obviously, the death of Oliver Queen would be front line news, so there was that at least. But she was a little peeved at him all the same. She hadn't seen him since the night he'd broken into her apartment. She had, however, done her research.

Best part of being good (brilliant) with computers was the ability to hack into systems that weren't accessible to the everyday public. Felicity didn't want to go into this situation with Oliver, blind. She'd read every article available on Oliver Queen and the vigilante and the she'd moved onto the more classified stuff. The recording to Oliver's lie detector for instance.

Felicity had been shocked and horrified when he'd revealed that he was tortured. He had said he was alone there, that in itself would make anyone crazy (for Felicity it would have been the lack of wi-fi). But to have been brutalised like that, 20% of his body covered in scar tissue, that was something she couldn't imagine.

Sipping her coffee, Felicity's mind went back to the night Oliver had broken into her home.

Felicity felt her face flush red. He'd seen her scratching her back, so that meant...Yep, he'd seen her underwear...And he'd asked if he could help? Help scratch her back, but still it would mean his hands on her skin. Under her t-shirt, because skin-to-skin was better. No need for a t-shirt to get in the way. It wouldn't be half as productive.

That argument sounds thin even to my ears, Felicity thought, shaking her head. She needed to get her traitorous mind back on track. Oliver broke into your apartment. Focus!

How would Oliver's hands feel on her skin? They'd probably be rough. He looked like he'd have rough hands. At least the vigilante Oliver did, the playboy Oliver, not so much. It would also be nice just to feel a man's touch. It had been to long since she'd felt that, but every one hits a dry spell every now and then (right?). Felicity shook her head again. When she was thinking of what to focus on, she hadn't meant that (lies!).

It was then she became aware that she'd done it again. She'd wandered off into her own little world, while there was actual living, breathing human being (although in some ways Oliver reminded her of the Terminator when he did that blank stare thing) was in the room. Bravo Felicity, way to make him think you're not all there. But she hadn't been all there, because she'd been imagining warm, rough hands caressing (she really did mean to think scratching) her back.

Oliver was looking at her funny; his head tilted to the side, his eyes narrowed in contemplation. His probably thinking about the best way to restrain you and cart you off to an asylum. She smiled nervously at him, before remembering that she should be mad at him. He'd broken into her home and offered her a job; two things that did not normally go hand-in-hand. Unless, it was some kind of movie where a man breaks into a women's house to offer her a job, like hacking into computer systems that he couldn't get into himself. Felicity was starting to get the big picture.

"Are you giving me the silent treatment to punish me or have you genuinely not heard a word of what I just said?" Oliver voice finally penetrated her thoughts (no, Felicity, no - do not think about anything else he could pene...).

"You can't just break into my house like that." Felicity hoped anger would help get her brain out of the gutter, so she made herself focus (truthfully this time) on Oliver's foray into breaking and entering. "I could have shot you. If I had a gun, which I don't. But that isn't the point. The point is you can't break into my home and scare me half to death like that!"

Oliver shrugged. "I came here to offer you a job."

How could he blatantly disregard her anger like that? Like a job was going to make up for the fact that he violated her home. Felicity couldn't or didn't want to believe that someone could sneak up on her so easy. What if it hadn't been Oliver? What if it had been some crazy man (or woman, they can be pretty homicidal too) who wanted to kill her or worse? Felicity shivered even though she wasn't cold.

Oliver must have sensed where her thought were, because the next words that left her mouth were eerily on par (in golf par is the number of strokes a first-class player should normally require for a particular hole or course) with what she was thinking.

"Your security is very lax, Felicity. I'll ask Diggle to come out and install an alarm system and put a chain on the door. In today's world, one can never be too careful." Felicity was oddly touched that he'd go to so much trouble to protect her, but then he had to go and ruin it. "I do have to look after my new IT expert."

"Is that seriously how your trying to woo me into working for you? By arrogantly breaking into my home and acting like it would be a privilege for me to work for you." Felicity was ranting, her hands gesturing wildly. "Besides I already have a job at this company that you may or may not of heard of, Queen Consolidated."

"Unless my last name has changed in the last five minutes you already do work for me, Felicity," Oliver cut her off. "I'm just proposing a promotion of sorts."

"I do deserve a promotion," Felicity agreed. She was damn proud of her computer skills and she knew she deserved a promotion. "One within the company."

"I don't handle those particular ones," Oliver amended, "but the one I am offering, would help a lot of people."

Felicity very nearly threw another plate at him. He was really was going to play the 'help a lot of people' card. Of course Felicity wanted too help. She wasn't immune to the suffering going on in Starling City, but she had her ways of dealing with it. The irony of Oliver Queen lecturing her on helping people was not lost on her. From what she'd heard, in the past, Oliver could not have cared less about anything that didn't involve partying, girls and booze. He'd been reformed on that Island; made into a better man.

"I want to take down the criminals infecting our city. You could help me do that." Oliver's face remained inscrutable the entire time he spoke.

Felicity blew out a breath loudly, shoving her heavy hair (it was still wet unfortunately) behind her shoulder. "You know the whole blank face thing, isn't helping me make a decision, Oliver. I know you believe in what your doing, because you wouldn't be doing it if you didn't. But you aren't selling it to me, not like this."

Felicity almost didn't notice Oliver shift his weight from one side to the other. She'd forgotten about his injuries, his tough exterior doing an extremely good job of hiding his pain.

"Want a coffee?" Felicity didn't even wait for him to answer, she was already filling the kettle with water. "Go sit down at the table." Felicity's tone was almost commanding. When she turned around, he was still standing there. So Felicity did what any other women would do, when faced with a (hot) playboy, turned vigilante, she shoved him lightly. "Seriously Oliver, go sit. I'll make some coffee and we can talk about your crazy idea of having me work for your other personality."

Felicity's hands remained on Oliver's shoulders while she spoke. Realising this, she pulled them away so fast, she almost hit herself in the face. Oliver was watching her face and she almost got sucked into their blue vortex again. Luckily, the kettle whistled its readiness, breaking Felicity from her continued insistence on acting weird around Oliver.

"Kettles done," she announced, unnecessarily. She practically leapt across the room and started pulling out mugs, milk, sugar, and whatever else one might put in coffee, and most importantly the actual coffee. This time when she turned around Oliver was sitting at the table. She couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. Oliver didn't return it, but that didn't matter. Felicity was beginning to learn that it was when Oliver wasn't showing emotion, he was at his most genuine.

Felicity set everything down on the table (almost dropping the sugar bowl). She went back and filled the mugs with hot water, bringing those back to the table too. She sat across from Oliver and went about making up her own coffee.

"Why don't you have a coffee maker?" Oliver asked, putting two spoons of instant coffee into his mug.

"I prefer the instant stuff, as you can see." Felicity poured some sugar into her own mug and took a sip. Aw, lovely. "When I want a coffee fix, I want it fast."

A fleeting upturn of the left corner of Oliver's mouth. Felicity felt a surge of triumph. She'd gotten him to lift his lips in a lousy semblance of a smile, but it was something at least. It occurred to Felicity that she'd been staring at his lips for longer then she should and she felt herself blush again.

"So Felicity what do you say? Will you work for me?" Oliver (thankfully) ignored her lapse of sanity and sat forward in his chair. One of his hands grasped his mug and the other rested on the table.

"I..."

"...were not the actions of a vigilante, but of a hero."

Felicity was pulled out of her thoughts, by the news. Turning the volume up, she listened to the news women explain the heroic actions of one Mr. Oliver Queen. He had saved a Chief Fireman from being set on fire in his own club. Felicity wondered where he'd been all this time. She knew it would take him time to recover from his wounds, but she hadn't thought he'd be so inactive.

Brrring! Brrrring! Brrrrrring!

Felicity tugged her phone out from under her blanket and stared at the screen.

Unknown number. Huh?

Felicity answered.

"Miss me?"

Oliver.

"Time to get to work."