Hello!

Thank you for your reviews and alerts!

I'm so glad you like my job here. I'm relieved that nobody found Felicity's reaction too OOC. I was afraid of that, because technically she has never talked about the laurel/oliver couple in the show. Her "worst love story ever" is actually exactly what I think about Laurel & Oliver as a couple. He slept with her sister. twice. disgusting, really.

And really happy to see you like Diggle! I love this man in the show so even if he's not the main character in this story, I wanted him to be as cool as the real Diggle is in the series.

I wish you good reading, and tell me what you think about it, please!

Chapter 4

The one with an explanation

Does he knock ?

Of course he has to knock, he won't force the lock. But he also knows it's late. What time is it again? He looks at his watch and sighs. 2.15 AM. Okay, now he knows it's very late. And he doesn't want to alert her neighbors.

2.15 AM… Definitely not a time to start a talk. This is very rude. And she will be in a bad mood.

But he needs to tell her… something. Some things? He can't remember right now how much he has to tell. He can only think about her face. Her smile. He misses her. It's been only twenty hours since she has left the Cave and God, he misses her. He has to do something. And it's late. He's going to fall asleep against her door after his patrol.

So he knocks. Softly. It doesn't seem to wake up anyone. Neither her neighbors… or Felicity.

He knocks again and finally detects a movement behind the door. Number 29. His age. He smiles. Not really funny but… it's 2.15 AM so… He smiles.

And he stops when the door opens only onto Felicity's face. All he can see by the tiny opening is her not so sleepy features topped by an adorable messy bun. She doesn't look surprised to see him, which is kinda reassuring. There are no other men who could knock on her door in the middle of the night. He is the only jerk in her life… yippee…

"I'm sorry, I know it's late…"

He's chickening out. No, you don't bother people at 2.15 AM. Especially if you're seeking forgiveness.

"Really late… I'm sorry ".

He's repeating himself. So, so screwed.

Oliver runs a nervous hand through his hair. "Were you sleeping?" Okay, maybe he should have started with that.

She waits for a few seconds before she shakes her head. "Hard habit to break". Her voice is barely perceptible.

She doesn't look aggressive.

"Can I come in?"

He knows, you don't invite yourself in someone's home. But her neighbors seem to have become his new obsession. And maybe she's not aggressive, but she's not inviting either.

Felicity doesn't frown at him. Her mouth tightens as if she's pouting, indicating she's actually thinking about it. Adorably thinking about it.

She sighs, closes her eyes as shame is written on her face. Of course she's blushing.

"Is there even just a tiny chance you could forget that I was part of your life at one point?"

She opens her eyes, to catch him smiling at her sadly. "Nope" he whispers. Not a chance. Unthinkable.

Her question was not meant to be serious, still it demonstrates her discomfort in this situation.

Felicity rolls her eyes, resigned. "So yeah, you can come in". She opens wider and moves aside. As Oliver's arm is brushing past hers, he can't help himself from smiling. There has always been like an invisible electric current when he touches her. And now she's wearing … fantastic extra sized stripy blue pajamas, this is not an electric current anymore. This is a fucking storm. Her outfit is ridiculous, turn-off with its buttoned top and its damaged lower pant legs. She looks childish. But the possibility she could be naked underneath is seriously threatening his self-control.

Her apartment. He focuses on her apartment.

This is… different from what he expected. No rainbows. No pink. She's 26, moron.

An apartment where a man could live. White. Minimalist. Modern. Some vintage things too. A huge movies collection next to an almost bigger vinyl discs collection. Few touches of bright color here and there. Like her gigantic purple blanket in which Felicity was probably wrapped up before he came here. A bowl is on the coffee table. She was eating some cereals… Lucky charms? Hard to say from where he is. Listening to some music. He recognizes U2. It's a song about suicide. Awesome. She's in a bad mood.

Stuck in a moment something. The title of this depressing song. He remembers, and he's surprised.

Felicity's not sure to understand the meaning of his raised eyebrows. She shrugs. "What? Who doesn't like U2? This is not Metallica. »

Bad example, girl. Who doesn't like Metallica ?

She should have said… Fall Out Boy.

Yeah maybe she should have because Oliver can't hide the stupid smile on his lips.

"I thought your kind of music would be more…"

More what Oliver? This is exactly what she answers. And it's a good damn question. They have known each other for two years now. What has he learnt about Felicity? A lot. But there are so many things he still is ignorant of about her.

He knows she grew up in Vegas. But he doesn't know how often she visits her mother. Despite her father abandonment, did she have a good childhood?

He knows she's scared of heights. Is she afraid of something else? Does she like snakes? Spiders? Sharks?

He knows she went to MIT. But he doesn't know what kind of student she was. How many friends has she made there? How many boyfriends? Did she miss some classes? Did she drink alcohol in the middle of the week ? Did she even drink alcohol?

Because he knows her, he can make suppositions. But that's all they are. Stupid suppositions.

And he doesn't know her music tastes.

For two years, they have talked a lot. Well, she has talked a lot and he has listened. More or less, because she really talks A LOT. But she never talks about her. About her life. About anything personal. And he has never asked.

Maybe she has said nothing, because he has never asked.

And just like that, Oliver decides to start asking the most private and indiscreet questions to Felicity. He wants to know everything. To be honest, he will start tomorrow. He needs to have her come back to the Cave first.

So… given that he has no idea about her music tastes yet, he thought her kind of music was more… what?

"Girly."

He knows he is going to regret this.

She raises an eyebrow and it reminds him their fight. "Girly?" She's trying to be able to swallow this insult. But she can't.

She crosses her arms. « Hey, just because I like pink doesn't mean I listen to Britney Spears!"

Oliver grins. He may have been in exile for five years but he hasn't lost his common sense. "Britney Spears is not girly. It's bad taste. Katy Perry however…"

"I love Katy Perry!" Her sudden enthusiasm makes him smile bigger. "But if you want to fulfill one of my dreams, you take me to a Queen concert. I'm a Queen fan." When Felicity gets how weird her last sentence must have sounded, she corrects. "The band, I mean. Not… your family." She clears her throat. "I'm a classic girl".

Still lost in thought after the "Queen fan", Oliver just answers. "No you're not". It makes her blushing. It makes him calling himself a jackass.

Awkward silence.

"I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I'm pretty sure Freddie Mercury is dead." Well done Queen. Change of subject.

Felicity tilts her head. "What? You hurt my soul… but Radiohead is okay too you know."

"I give an option on Radiohead." Radiohead is more than okay. She smiles at him, ignoring he's serious. But the topic is closed now and he needs to find a new way to beat about the bush. He found one. "It's really nice in here".

Felicity knows what he's doing, and there's no way she's going to let it happen. "Look, I'm not happy either about what follows but please, shorten my suffering."

She's so vulnerable right now, staring at him like he's going to literally break her, Oliver can only nod in silence.

"How do you feel ?"

She's blushing, again, biting her lower lip. Then instead of answering, she moves towards her couch. Oliver knows it's a silent invitation to do likewise and he accepts it. She sits, her right leg folded over the other. He comes close enough to be able to touch her. He always does.

Felicity finally gives him the answer he was waiting for. "Quite embarrassed, actually." She doesn't look at him. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier. So, so… SO sorry."

He raises a hand to softly grasp her chin. He just wants her to stop avoiding his eyes. "I'm sorry too."

Their mutual relief makes them smile to each other.

No more fight.

He has to touch her. This is a visceral need. He wants to grab her hand. Since he's got back from Lian Yu, Oliver doesn't consider himself as a tactile man. He used to be. Not anymore. Except with her, Felicity. Oliver Queen is a very tactile person with Felicity Smoak. And he knows she's noticed.

Felicity doesn't say a word when she feels Oliver's hand stroking hers and finally grabbing it. She won't because she likes it too much. His touch. Nobody touches her like that, and she's only talking about hand stroking which reflects the poorness of her love life.

« Felicity… you are… one of the most important person in my life. You know that? »

He hopes she does because this is not a secret.

She looks at him, trying to ignore the sensation his fingers on her palm are generating inside her.

"I do."

His fingers make their way down to her wrist.

"Laurel is my friend. My oldest friend, since Tommy…"

Oliver clears his throat. He still can't say it normally. Because it's not and it will never be. Loosing his best friend before the age of thirty is never going to be a normal thing.

"Tommy died… and now that she knows the truth about me… I feel relieved. I don't have to lie to her anymore."

Felicity snorts. Yeah, they can make babies now… Yeah, she's a bitch.

"What I didn't take into consideration is that Laurel is my friend. Not yours. Or Diggle's. Not to mention Roy. I was wrong to let her come almost every day without asking you first. This wasn't fair, and I 'm sorry."

Felicity has just heard everything she hoped he would tell her. So why is she still feeling like a damn weight in her chest? Maybe it's not everything. Surely it's not actually. This is not enough. And she tells him. "I appreciate". She looks straight into his blue eyes. "But you're saying this like I have a problem with Laurel Lance, as a person. I don't, okay?"

Oh really? This is bullshit, Smoak. She finds her annoying and a little condescending. But yeah, really, this is not the core of the problem.

"My problem, actually, is with Laurel Lance as your ex fiancée."

Here we go.

Oliver's gaze is priceless. A weird mix of confusion and understanding at the same time. Priceless maybe, but it also makes Felicity really uncomfortable. "Don't look at me like that. I mean… Just listen, okay. Judge later. But now, listen."

While she's clearing her throat for the thousand time to give herself courage, she thinks she would really need a shot of vodka. "You were right. I feel threatened. And you were right about Sara too. I … »

She stops, wavering about how she could lead this discussion in the best way. "It was hard for me when Sara joined the team. Not only because of your… whatever"

She gathers all her strengths to not look away. It's a good thing she doesn't, so she can notice that Oliver does look away.

She's going on. « She was a girl too, but I still was the only one to be absolutely useless on the field. I felt excluded from my own team. Sara was a superwoman and I was, I am just… a woman."

Oliver was going to reply, but he finally keeps his mouth shut. She's grateful for that.

« Laurel is not Sara. Sure, she can fight back if some random guy tries to steal her purse. But she's not her sister. She can't fight you or John. She can't fight any of the criminals of this city. And I could stand being sidelined by Sara because she was like you but there's no way I put up with Laurel. Because she's not better than me. I know it. But I don't know if you do. »

Felicity breathes out. She did it. Here is the core of the problem. Her problem.

"What are you asking ?" Oliver locks his fingers.

"Do you want laurel to join the team?"

He smiles. "She wants".

Of course she wants. Felicity rolls her eyes. "Remember when you told me that I will always be your girl?"

She feels a slight pressure on her wrist. "It's not going to change Felicity." He sounds pretty sure about it. God, her name in his mouth…

Agree to disagree, Queen.

"It has changed. Like I said, Laurel is not Sara. You have some kind of… history."

With Sara too. Cheating one sister with the other, sharing a complete nightmare that nobody in the entire world could understand the way she does, discovering she's alive when you saw her "dying" years ago… This is history, and a strong one. But this is not about love. This is about mutual comprehension. Felicity could deal with that.

Oliver's smile doesn't reach his eyes when he nods. "History you flung in my face".

She blushes but ignores his comment. "You were a couple. You were in love. She had a huge influence in your life. She still has. And it scares me. I'm afraid that you listen to her more than you listen to me. And not because of her credit but because of her special place in your heart."

She's so thirsty right now. Maybe she could take off her top. Forget it girl, you're naked remember?

"When she's there, I can't stop asking myself who is speaking? Is it Oliver, the man I…"

Love.

"… respect and admire ? Or is it that « Ollie » guy the Lance sisters have a nasty habit of reviving? A guy that I honestly don't admire… at all. I'm sorry but I didn't sign up for this." She hates the « Ollie » guy. This is really confusing for her, because she knows he's Oliver. But he's not actually. Not her Oliver. Like Dr Jeckyll and Mr Hyde, except Oliver's Hyde has died on that island. He doesn't exist anymore, except when a Lance sister is around.

And she knows this must be awful to hear. And she's sorry. But she's not actually. Not really. Because that "Ollie" guy was a complete asshole.

His fingers are brushing her palm again. This soft tickling forces a smile out of Felicity. Oliver raises an eyebrow as his other hand reaches the first one. "Don't be sorry. I don't like that Ollie guy either. He was a jerk. And he had a terrible haircut. »

Wow. Oliver Queen has just made a joke. It never happened. And a pretty good one. She looks at him, focusing on his short hair and tries to imagine it longer. Okay, she can't. The only thing she has in mind is this, his, word. Jerk. She giggles.

He knows she's laughing at him. But she's so beautiful that all he can do is smiling back. This is the first time he catches her giggling. It's totally worth it.

But Felicity doesn't take a long time to become serious again. She breaths in deeply and strikes him the final blow. "Laurel makes me feel insecure. And now I am jealous, paranoid… I'm a bitch, actually."

And not the "bitch with Wi-Fi" kind.

"I don't like the woman I am becoming when she's around." She's unable to focus his eyes. She's just said she's jealous of her ex. Why doesn't she confess she's in love with him at that point? Oh don't worry girl, he knows already.

"You're done?" As usual, he just smiles. Oh and he keeps doing this amazing stuff with his fingers… on her hand. Just on her hand. As usual, she blushes.

"Yep. You can judge."

He seems hesitant and it takes him several seconds to say something. "You asked me if I wanted her in the team. I don't. As things stand, this is… unthinkable. I won't risk screwing our… activities up because of bitterness or unresolved issues. So don't feel threatened anymore. By anyone. Ever. »

His tone is firm, just like his grasp. But his left thumb following her plam lines almost makes her moaning. She won't. Not moan. Of course she won't moan. What she means is she won't feel threatened again. She trusts him, oddly.

« But I'll keep training her. She needs it. And as a friend I can refuse to take her on a mission, but I can't refuse to teach her how to defend herself".

His last words resonate in her head. Has he burnt her? Because his touch has suddenly become unbearable. No he can't refuse. As a friend. just like he said. She totally agrees. And she's totally going to reuse this argument in her favor.

Not worried a second about the devastating effect of his hypocrisy on her, he keeps talking. « So you'll keep seeing her at the Cave. »

Oh yeah… Felicity really can't act as if it was a good news for her. It's not, she doesn't like her. John won't be thrilled either. Thinking about her friend makes her smile genuinely. Oliver finally notices her lack of enthusiasm. "Look, I know she hasn't had the chance to prove it yet but Laurel is a nice person. She's smart, she's brave, generous... And you're… »

Uh-oh.

He says nothing. Is this really the time for saying nothing? Is he fucking serious? He's just staring at her, saying nothing. He's on probation, and he says nothing.

Oh boy…

« You know…You're you. » He's trying to offset his epic failure by his not-so-innocent caresses. Wrong tactic.

She raises a skeptical eyebrow. "Don't choke on your compliments…" She says, acerbic.

Surprisingly, it makes him smile. "You know what I mean."

Does she?

"It is impossible not to love you."

Oh, well done.

« You could become good friends if you wanted to. »

She gets the message. "I will make an effort. I promise."

He nods, satisfied. « Oh and by the way, I'm not in couple with Laurel. » He thought it was obvious, but he wants to make sure Felicity knows.

Her whole body tenses up, he can feel it as he keeps caressing her. "Not my business, Oliver".

Of course she knows. He wouldn't talk to her like that, touch her like that, if he was in couple with Laurel. Right?

"I want to talk to my friend Felicity, not my IT girl. You're my friend and I want to share it with you" His blue eyes are… fucking hypnotic. "I am not in couple with Laurel" he says again. That's official, she can't ignore it anymore.

The acrid taste in her mouth reminds her that what happens in Russia can't fucking stay in Russia my friend. "Because of the life that you lead, you just think it's better to not be with someone that you really care about?" She asks, quoting him, because this damn confession is perfectly suitable for this whole fucked-up Laurel situation. More than for her own fucked-up situation.

Oliver doesn't seem convinced by his own argument. He grimaces. "Or rather for all the good reasons you have aggressively listed this morning. You can't put the past aside. Not… that kind of past. Laurel and I, It's complicated. Toxic. She deserves better. She deserves a healthy relationship… for once."

Their couple was anything but fulfilling. It took him a long time to realize. Now he knows, and he won't forget. Just like with Tommy. Dating the best friend of her presumed dead fiancé was not a perfect example of stability either. She deserves stability and respect.

« You too. » Oliver looks at her, remembering the end of their post-Russia discussion. This was nothing more than a whisper. Felicity's look is so warm and full of hope that it's unbearable. He's done enough for tonight, he needs to get out of here before touching her becomes too painful.

"I should go." But he still has one further thing to say. "Bring your sportswear tomorrow."

She doesn't react immediately, analyzing his words.

What? Really ?

She doesn't say anything but the surprise on her face gives way to a victorious grin.

They stand up and he releases her hand. Felicity already misses their intimacy. She's not going to forget his touch. She still can feel his fingers on her sensitive skin.

Oh my God, he's going to train her. He's going to touch her.

Oliver shrugs. "As a friend, I can't refuse to teach you how to defend yourself. And sometimes you're going undercover, so…"

So he's changed his mind.

Felicity thought his visit couldn't be more perfect but she was wrong. She didn't see it coming. Oliver neither. But he can't help himself from grabbing her hand one last time to raise it to his lips. He doesn't kiss the back of Felicity's hand. He does something more… hot… wrong… intimate. No need to delete as appropriate because all those words are appropriate. He kisses her palm, in the limit of her wrist… Maybe he's a wrist fetishist.

His kind of hand-kissing is shocking. Arousing. Already over. She loves it as much as she hates it. Because she won't sleep tonight. Or tomorrow. Ever?

What was that?

And she's not done babbling. She's so fucked. And not the way she wants.

Oliver's looking at her, like he's expecting something to happen. From her. But she's too busy avoiding falling into a coma to say or do anything. He smiles at her, like he always does, and silently heads for the door. A last glance, a strangled "good night" and he's gone.

Felicity falls on her couch when her knees stop supporting her weight. What has just fucking happened?

Oliver keeps smiling, even alone in a hall, at 3.00 AM.

Maybe he doesn't know if she's afraid of spiders, but maybe it doesn't count. Maybe he knows enough after all.

He knows she's aware of her mind. And proud of it. More than her physique. Not because she thinks she's unattractive, which would be insane, but because this is not how she wants to be defined. Her mind is her independence. She's a self-made woman. This is why being "promoted" executive assistant was such a public humiliation for her. She wasn't smart anymore, she was just a blonde girl who may have slept with her boss. Her mind is her integrity. He didn't care enough and he's sorry about it.

He knows she's going to be a much better Godparent than him, because she's loving, playful, forgiving, and Roy's right, she smells so good.

He knows she's the only person who could make him smile in any situation. Deliberately… or not.

He knows he loves her, and it doesn't matter if she has no idea. Loving her is enough for now.

Thank you for reading!

Title of the next chapter: The one where nothing happens