Felicity stared unseeingly at the bank of monitors in their new and improved Arrow Cave at Palmer Technologies. Though it was less of a cave than it had ever been. Also, there was no Arrow in it, which was the main problem, and the reason for her inability to concentrate.
R'as had been defeated almost two weeks ago, Nyssa was the new R'as al Ghul, the last remaining dose of the super-virus had been destroyed, and no-one in Starling City had suffered so much as a nose-bleed. And still Oliver wasn't back. It had taken them a week to find out, through Lyla's contacts, that Oliver had been taken to ARGUS headquarters for a debriefing to conclude the mission. But why would that take so long? Was it a debriefing or an interrogation?
Felicity tried to focus on what her monitor was showing her, but got distracted once again when Thea walked in. She waited for Thea's usual question, whether she had heard anything, but Thea didn't even ask that. Had Thea given up? Had all three of them given up on Oliver? She knew Diggle was still angry, over the fact that Oliver hadn't included him in the operation. And she wasn't sure that Diggle would ever forgive Oliver for bringing assassins into his home. And she clung to that one night they'd had, but the memory was already fading, along with the sound of his voice and the taste of his skin. Her eyes started prickling with unshed tears, but she controlled herself with an effort. She had to pull herself together, for Thea, who needed support, not tears or self-pity.
No-one spoke after a few perfunctory hellos, and so Felicity jumped a bit when Thea's phone rang. It rang a few more times, and when Felicity looked up, Thea was staring at the number, puzzled. When she answered, someone obviously asked her who she was, prompting her to confirm her name. Then Thea's eyes widened in shock, and she turned the phone on speaker.
"I . . . I'm not sure I heard you right. Could you repeat that, please?" Thea's voice shounded shaken.
"I'm calling from Glades Memorial Hospital. We think we have your brother, here, Oliver Queen."
There was not a sound in the room. They were all staring at the phone. Finally, Thea managed to get a word out.
"Is he- why can't he tell you who he is?" Tears were already streaming down her face.
"He was dropped off at the ER yesterday, unconscious. He still hasn't woken up. Can we confirm that he is Oliver Queen? Could you describe him, or his defining features?" The woman sounded matter of fact, as if it was every day that she asked someone to identify a loved one. Maybe it was, Felicity thought, through a shock so profound she felt like the world had slowed down.
But Thea was sobbing, and couldn't say any more, so Felicity took over, hoping she would be able to hear something through the rushing in her ears.
"He has an eight-pointed star tattoo high up on his chest, on the left. And a dragon tattoo on the back of his left shoulder." One which I remember kissing, she thought. Please let it be Oliver. Please let him be ok.
"Yes, the man in question has these tattoos," the woman answered. "When can you come down here-" she was asking, but Thea was already half out the door, followed by Felicity and Diggle bringing up the rear.
When they arrived, after Thea confirmed her identity, they were shown to Oliver's room, which showed signs of having been hastily vacated for Oliver, after the hospital administration found out that the unknown John Doe was the Oliver Queen.
Thea and Felicity raced in – and stopped short. Oliver looked impossibly small in the hospital bed, with endless tubes and wiring attached to him. He had lost weight, looked really pale, and was breathing into an oxygen mask. Diggle followed at a slower pace, but was still brought up short when he saw Oliver's condition.
Oliver opened his eyes, and focused on Thea, trying to smile. The nurse helped him take his oxygen mask off, and Thea half fell on him, throwing her arms around him. He tried to say her name, but could only speak in a pained whisper.
Felicity was trying hard to control herself, and failing. What had they done to him? And why?
"Felicity." It took her a few seconds to recognize the harsh whisper as her name. She grabbed his outstretched hand and sat next to him.
"You'd better stop speaking, young man, your throat can't take much more abuse." The doctor was coming along with Oliver's chart. "Starvation, beating, electrocution, sleep deprivation, you name it!" She looked angry. "I can't believe you don't want to make a police report – you were tortured!"
Oliver looked sheepish. "It was very dark? I couldn't really see their faces." He offered this in a tentative way, knowing that the truth was that you couldn't get justice from ARGUS. He exchanged glances with Diggle, who immediately started a conversation to distract the doctor, who knew enough to let the whole thing go, even though she realised she was being handled.
"The bad news is that it'll take a while before you're on your feet again. The good news is that you can recover at home, as long as you can assure me you have apparatus to deliver intravenous solutions."
Diggle nodded, and asked for a list of Oliver's medications, and the doctor left to get it, which gave them an opportunity to talk. Or rather, yell.
"Did you know about this?" Thea was furious. She looked at Diggle with such betrayal in her eyes that Felicity didn't know who to feel sorry for most.
"Look, I knew that Waller had questions – I didn't know this was how she was asking them." Diggle sounded disgusted. "I wish I could say Lyla didn't know," he continued, but was interrupted.
"Thea, come on. " Oliver was speaking with difficulty. "I'll be fine, really."
"I thought you were working with ARGUS. And Oliver, what happened to your voice?" Felicity found herself being unable to speak above a whisper, too. Oliver hesitated, and Diggle shut the door.
"I told you that ARGUS weren't expecting the conditioning." Felicity nodded, trying hard to keep calm. Oliver seemed to be forcing every word out, and had to pause to take sips of water. "Turns out they really weren't expecting it. And even when I broke it, they thought I must have given away something to R'as al Ghul, or learnt something from him. Maybe he had more Alpha/Omega somewhere. Maybe he had something worse. When I said I didn't know, they kinda didn't believe me." Oliver tried to smile and shrug, but only managed to wince as his movement pulled at some abused muscles. Diggle walked around the room in frustration, barely holding himself back from punching the wall.
The doctor came back in and rattled off a series of instructions, all of which flew over Felicity's head, and she hoped someone was listening. She could only look at Oliver who had dozed off, exhausted by the short conversation. What had they done to him? And how could she prevent it from ever happening again?
And, she mused, three weeks later, what had made her think that Oliver would give up on his 'I have to be alone' schtick once the immediate, League of Assassins-related danger had passed? Was it the night of mind-blowing, consciousness-altering, earth-moving sex? She was pretty sure that was it. Oh sure, Oliver, go and save the world, Oliver, come back to me, Oliver. He had come back, but was it to her, or to the city? She was going to find out the answer to that question, if it was the last thing she did. And it very well might be, she thought, as she tried to look around her without actually moving her head.
She was striding along one of the more sketchy alleys in the Glades, hoping she was giving off serious 'fuck off' vibes while simultaneously keeping one hand on her Glock, hidden in her purse.
"This alley isn't safe," a robotic croak announced from the fire-escape directly in front of her, and she shuddered in relief. And indignation. Oliver hadn't spoken to her about anything besides their work in the the week since he'd declared himself fully recovered and started patrolling again. Diggle agreed with him, and that was it – action bros once more. They no longer had the easy camaraderie they'd once shared, though a lot of the animosity had been handled by whatever they went through during the super-virus panic. But she'd been shuffled to the side like the little office wifey, like his Girl Friday, and she'd had enough. Felicity Smoak was no-one's assistant. And it was time Mr Arrow learned that.
"Good thing there's someone to save me, then," she squealed in an unnaturally high falsetto. "Is it the Batman?" She heard a sigh from the fire-escape, oddly amplified by the voice-changer, and a series of thuds as Oliver parkoured his way down.
"Felicity," he rumbled, then winced, and turned off the voice-changer.
"Arrow," she answered, mimicking his tone. In her glare she tried to make it clear she could have called him 'Oliver', in public, secret identity be damned. He moved closer, looking apologetic and annoyed at the same time.
"It's dangerous out here. You know that."
"If you'd talk to me in the 'office'," she said, "I wouldn't have to do this! You know what," she said as she stalked towards him, "to hell with talking. It's never accomplished a damn thing, except make us miserable."
She grabbed his hood and kissed him, nibbling and biting at his lips until he reluctantly opened his mouth. She twined her arms round his neck and rubbed up against him as close as she could, until he couldn't resist putting his arms around her and pulling her to him like he never wanted to let her go, plunging his tongue into her mouth aggressively, like he'd been dying to do this forever. She could feel his arousal and wanted to cheer, then decided to slip her hand into his pants instead. Unfortunately, the Arrow pants were less forgiving than the assassin gear, so she quickly unzipped them and slipped her hand in, grabbing his hard cock, as he moaned into her mouth.
Someone cleared his throat behind her. It was a theatrical throat clearing, meant to be heard by everyone in the alley. And possibly the next alley, too. Felicity and Oliver disengaged, and she tried to close his pants again, which was slightly difficult over his erection.
"Captain Lance," Oliver rumbled. Felicity took a few seconds to compose herself, before she turned around to smile innocently at Lance, who was standing in the alley with a sardonic expression on his face.
"Public lewdness, public nudity, you're really piling on the felonies today, Arrow." If there was a more sarcastic way of saying Oliver's vigilante name, Felicity hadn't heard it yet.
"Did you need something, Captain?" Felicity admired Oliver for that. He wasn't going to let himself be drawn into a verbal sparring match, though she'd have liked to point out that no-one had actually been nude, and the obscene acts hadn't even gotten started yet, more's the pity. And at least one of those was actually a misdemeanour, she was sure.
"Just to ask you about a new variant of MDMA that's been flooding the Glades. Kids buy a new party drug, end up in a coma. Or worse."
The whole issue of the Arrow being back on the streets, in spite of the fact that he'd supposedly died weeks ago hadn't caused any problems, once Oliver had spread rumours that the "Arrow" was just a title, to be taken up by different vigilantes in turn. And as the crime rate had risen exponentially in the weeks he'd been gone, which Felicity had secretly called his assassin vacation, the brass, as Lance called them, had instructed him to accept it, or get a new job. Quentin Lance, having a skull made of granite (tm Laurel Lance) had been inclined to not accept the Arrow back, and to keep on with his vendetta against Oliver, but something had won him over, eventually. She wasn't going to pry, but Laurel had mentioned spending more time with her father, who'd apparently forgiven her for keeping Sara's death from him. Good for you, Laurel, she thought.
"I'll look into it, Captain. Felicity, where's your car?" Damnit, Captain Lance. She'd almost had him.
"It's just over there," she sulked, pointing to a spot a block away. Now Oliver would shoot an arrow into the sky (how did he always know if there was a building to shoot at?) and zipline it out of there. Yoicks, and away, her traitor brain supplied, and she had to suppress her giggles at the image of Daffy Duck Arrow. Except Oliver wasn't leaving, he was walking her to the car. Huh. This was new. Wait, this was her chance!
"We need to talk," she hissed. To her amazement, Oliver nodded. First he walks her to her car, then he agrees to talk – was it opposite day?
"I'll be at the office in an hour," he rumbled, only to look puzzled when she shook her head.
"Come to the foundry," she countered. "It'll be . . . more private there."
She got into her car and drove away, before he could ask any more questions. Sure, Verdant and the foundry had kind of been outed by Captain Lance, but who would expect them to go back there? Hiding in plain sight, like the purloined letter, or something. She was waiting for Oliver to get there before she finished installing her new security measures – no point in ruining the surprise now. Once she arrived, she texted him the location of the new alleyway entry, and waited.
Oliver was punctual to the minute, for once, and when the new cameras she'd installed showed him wandering towards the entrance, she typed in the command to open the door. When he walked into the reborn Arrow Cave he stopped, stunned. It was very similar to the set-up she'd had at Palmer, but at least this belonged to them, rather than an eccentric billionaire inventor who might eventually decide to be eccentric elsewhere, and then where would they be. Plus, there was enhanced security. So much security. Security out the proverbial wazoo (what was that anyway? She'd always meant to google it).
"Felicity," he started, and she didn't want to let him finish.
"I've been working on this since it was safe to come back to Starling," she rattled off. "The money is Thea's, and this was her idea. She wants you to have somewhere to go to that doesn't have to be shared with your bratty little sister. Her words, not mine!"
Oliver looked a bit misty at that. She decided to show him the best part, in her opinion, grabbing his hand and dragging him to a recessed door, which when opened, showed a bedroom, with a wardrobe, an armchair, and an enormous bed. Oliver stared, amazed, and opened his mouth to speak again. Felicity decided to head him off at the pass.
"Don't say you can't accept this! Thea's exact words were: Consider this something to make up for all the birthdays and Christmases you missed stuck in Purgatory. Good thing she let me buy the furniture – I didn't want to have to explain why you needed a really big bed."
She trailed her fingers over the sheets while looking at Oliver through her lashes, and was relieved to see an appreciative grin on his face.
She watched as Oliver went tentatively to the wardrobe and opened it – all his clothes, including the few suits he still had left, were hanging there. She came up behind him and put her arms round his waist.
"Get changed. There's a bathroom in the back if you need a shower. We still need to have our talk."
She was sitting in her usual position, in front of the bank of monitors, setting up the biometric IDs the place needed, when she felt she was being watched, and spun around in her chair, only to realise it was Oliver.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey," he answered. Oh, hell, talking was overrated, anyway. She pushed him down on one of the office chairs and climbed into his lap. He smiled, and grabbed her ass to get her closer, and she giggled, happily.
"So, where were we?" She kissed him gently, and this time he made it deeper and dirtier, penetrating her mouth with his tongue.
"I'm sorry I've been avoiding you," he said once they'd managed to stop kissing. "I needed time to think. And I really want this. Us, I mean. I just want to make it work. If that's what you want," he added, sounding unsure.
"If that's what I- Oliver! I made you a Batcave!" He laughed, and kissed her again, and she went straight for his waistband again, grabbing his cock and giving it a few strokes. Just as she felt his fingers starting to creep under her skirt, someone cleared their throat. Really loud. As if they'd been doing it for a while. Felicity wanted to scream, but managed to hold it back, with an effort – she was consoled when she looked into Oliver's eyes and found a matching look of barely restrained fury.
"Hey guys," Thea said tentatively. "Wow, Felicity, the biometric ID works really well."
"It sure does," agreed Diggle from the staircase, and what was happening? Why were the other members of Team Arrow there? She'd wanted to show them everything tomorrow, long after she finished banging Oliver like a screen door in a hurricane. She didn't trust herself to speak, though, afraid she'd let loose a scream of pure frustration.
Oliver stepped into the breach.
"Did we have a meeting planned?" His tone was gentle, with none of his own frustration apparent – and Felicity knew he was frustrated. He was hard as a rock. Good thing he wasn't in his Arrow suit any more – those pants hid nothing.
"We got an email, telling us to meet here," Thea offered, waving her mobile. "I thought it was from you." Just as Felicity was about to descend on Thea and look at this supremely cock-blocking email, the motion sensors in the alley went off and Amanda Waller's face filled the security feed monitor. Felicity had left nothing to chance this time, but hadn't thought the whole set up would be tested so soon.
Swearing like she'd never sworn before, she grabbed her tablet, keyed in a command, and a section of the brick wall slid aside in front of Waller. Best let her in before she got out the grenade launcher. Oliver sat back down and looked like he was trying to project a casual lack of interest, though Felicity knew he got tired much more easily nowadays, and was far from recovered, something which could be laid at Waller's door.
The woman herself walked nonchalantly into the room, looking around her with undisguised interest.
"Well. This is very nice." God, Felicity hated her.
"Look around as much as you can – it's the last time you're getting in here."
Waller ignored her, looked at Thea and Diggle with contempt, and turned to Oliver.
"Mr Queen, we have a job for you."
"I don't work for you, Waller. I told you after the super-virus was dealt with that I was done."
"Your country needs you, Oliver. And you don't have a choice."
That was it. Felicity had heard enough. She had to walk around Waller to face her, as she seemed determined to act as though she, Felicity, didn't exist.
"Why exactly should Oliver do anything for you?"
Waller's face curved into a smile that was made of pure cruelty. She enjoyed this, Felicity realised, keeping people under her thumb, using and discarding them.
"We've never been successful in breaking Oliver Queen, except when threatening his family or friends. His little sister might catch a stray bullet, she spends so much time in such a terrible part of town. His secretary," she continued, her words dripping contempt, "might disappear, her body turning up in the trunk of someone's car, having been raped and strangled. I trust I'm making myself clear."
I am not anyone's secretary, Felicity wanted to scream, before realising that a rational person might have been more bothered by the raped and strangled bit. But Thea had already started spitting insults at Waller, while Oliver was turning grey where he sat. Time to deal with this, once and for all.
"Thea!" Her tone was enough to silence the room. "Ms Waller?" That unflinching gaze was turned onto her, and she quailed, even though she managed not to show it on her face. "I need to explain something to you. And I'm going to speak slowly so that you can follow."
Waller's lips curled in a sneer, but she said nothing. Felicity took a deep breath and continued.
"If anything, anything happens to Oliver Queen, or anyone even remotely connected to him; if his crazy old aunt who lives in Oahu has a mysterious accident, or his third cousin twice removed gets unexplained chest pains, hell, if Thea gets into a fender bender and goes through a windshield, I will unleash a DDOS attack like the world has never seen. I have written viruses no-one except me can neutralise, and they'll all get to go out and play. Financial institutions will crumble. Governments will fall. And ARGUS? Your organization will be a smoking crater once I've finished with it. They won't identify you by your dental records. You will be wiped from the earth."
The only sound in the room was the faint humming of the machines, and the occasional beep as her motion sensors did sweeps of the alley. Oliver seemed torn between admiration and disapproval, Diggle looked horrified, and Thea was making tiny fist punches when she thought no one was looking.
Waller had managed to keep the sneer on her face, though Felicity could see a tiny bead of sweat gather at her hairline. She herself felt ice cold. She forgot nothing that had happened in the past year, and laid so much of it at Waller's feet. She forgave nothing.
"What would someone like you know about DDOS attacks and viruses?" The contempt in her voice was almost palpable, and Felicity reacted in the way she knew would most irritate someone like Waller. She laughed. Peals of laughter came out of her (yes, she'd practiced – laughing to cue was hard), as though she'd never found anything funnier.
"You seriously don't know! This is hilarious! Guys," she turned to the others theatrically, "she has no idea." You are going to pay for that secretary crack, evil bitch queen.
"Ms Waller, you might remember a few months ago when someone used a virus to mess with Starling City's infrastructure. No one knew how to stop it, except me. Because I wrote it. In college. For fun." She practically spat out the last few words. "I used to be good at that kind of thing. Now, I'm the best."
The bead of sweat on Waller's forehead had been joined by a few friends. "You're bluffing."
Felicity smiled. She'd been practicing this smile in the mirror for a while, and she'd been satisfied with the final result: a smile with no humour in it, that only gave one message: try me.
"You can't launch this attack if you die first." Waller hadn't given up yet – she was dead and didn't know it.
"A dead man's switch can also be a program which runs in the absence of its creator."
Felicity managed to speak without any emotion, with a kind of detachment that good old Al Sahim would have envied. She looked at Waller closely, not in anger, or fear, but like she was looking at a particularly interesting bacterium under a microscope. The silence dragged on, and the tension stretched out unbearably. Until something wonderful happened, something that Felicity had hardly dared hope for: Waller blinked. She looked aside, at Oliver even, who folded his arms, pretending that he understood a word Felicity had just said. Holy shit, she'd won. Oh yeah, she was the fucking best. Kali Ma Shakti De, bitch.
Waller tried to bluster that Oliver was good for nothing right now, and that she'd be back at a later date, and Felicity let her save face. Instead of saying what she wanted to say, that she'd burn the place down rather than let Waller in again, she folded her arms. And said nothing some more. Waller turned on her heel and stalked out, and Felicity focused on her tablet, setting up some face recognition to ensure that alarms would go off if Waller even approached any of their entrances. Her hands were shaking, and she kept missing the commands she wanted to tap on, until someone took the tablet out of her hands and put it carefully on a table. Oliver put his arms around her, and the simple gesture was enough to bring tears to her eyes.
"It's ok, everything's ok," he murmured, stroking her hair. She was shaking all over now, and could hardly believe what she'd done, what she'd said. Oh, none of it was a bluff. It just had seemed a lot simpler when she was setting everything up on her own in front of a monitor, fingers flying over the keyboard, lost in the intellectual pleasure of setting up such intricate programs, when one missed keystroke could spell disaster. Well, there was a caveat – she had set up everything to target ARGUS. Though there were some dark nights when her thoughts turned to wholesale destruction, in particular, the night when she got stuck and decided to break into ARGUS as a mental exercise. She'd never realised that ARGUS recorded all their interrogations, and the image of Oliver strapped to a chair, screaming as electricity coursed through him, was not one that would leave her any time soon.
"I don't think I like the idea of my wife and daughter living under some kind of hanging sword, Felicity." Diggle sounded disapproving. Felicity wiped her eyes and pulled out of Oliver's arms, reluctantly.
"I don't like the idea of Oliver being tortured. I don't like the idea of being raped and murdered," she countered. And I can't forgive Lyla for what she might have known about what was happening to Oliver, she thought.
"She was bluffing," scoffed Diggle, who was starting to irritate her just a bit.
"She wasn't bluffing when she attached electrodes to his test-" she yelled.
"Felicity!" Oliver interrupted her – ah, she'd missed that roar.
Diggle winced, while Thea just looked confused. Oliver's voice sounded pained. "I won't even ask how you knew that – no, Thea, I'm not going to explain. John, don't worry, Felicity was exaggerating," he added, with a warning look at Felicity. Sure, let Diggle think what he wanted. Oliver put his arm around Diggle and whispered something in his ear which made him laugh, and managed to defuse the situation – and that was fine by her. Let him think what he wanted. Anyway, she was starting to feel tired, and sleepy; and she'd had such plans for that evening. Such sexy, sexy plans.
Thea knew to take a hint on seeing Felicity yawn widely. "Wow, it's so late! I totally had to do something . . . at the club . . . and I hear them right now!" It wasn't very convincing, and Oliver couldn't suppress a smile as she practically ran past him up the stairs, pausing for a whisper of "I never want to see you guys having sex ever again," before she made herself scarce. Felicity made sure all the exits were securely locked once they'd left, and then collapsed into a chair.
Oliver was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking at her. She found his expression unreadable at first, then resolving into a half-smile.
"That was quite a speech."
"Yup."
"I don't suppose you're going to tell me how much of that was real and how much was for effect."
"Nope."
"You know, Lyla isn't really active in ARGUS anymore. There was no way for her to do anything to help me-" He stopped, because she'd got up and was descending on him like a fury.
"I sat at that woman's dinner table every night for two weeks, while you were being electrocuted. I ate her food while you were being waterboarded. There is no way she didn't know what was happening. It's not going to happen again, I promise you. On my life," she added.
He wrapped his arms around her and sighed. "Has anyone ever told you," (that you're a crazy homicidal maniac, she thought) "that you're a goddess?" She perked up at that, and dropped a kiss on his lips.
"Why Mr Queen," she said coquettishly, "are you trying to seduce me?"
"Trying?" Oliver was full of exaggerated indignation. He kissed her back, deep and wet, and pulled her to him, grabbing her ass and crushing her against him. He lifted her up on one of the tables and stood between her legs, and stopped. She looked up at him, curiously – he seemed to want to tell her something, but was unsure how to put it.
Oliver found it hard to meet her eyes as he continued. "You know I told them everything, right? About us. About you. The warehouse, your apartment, everything."
Felicity just smiled and shook her head. "I thought her whole 'raped and strangled' schtick was kind of personal." His eyes widened with surprise that she was taking it so well.
"Come on, Oliver. You told me about this. About torture, I mean, and how everyone breaks." She suddenly had a flash of Oliver yelling, Just tell me what you want me to say and I'll say it! Anything!, and had to force herself to put it aside. "I didn't even need to find their collection of torture porn to know that."
"Their what?" Oh, no, Felicity thought, horrified. He didn't know. "They were filming me?"
"It's all gone, Oliver. All of it," she said fiercely. No-one's going to see you like that ever again, she thought. His grip on her arms had become painful and a muscle jumped in his jaw, but then he visibly relaxed.
"Won't they notice?" he asked mildly, obviously having decided to let this go.
"There's still something there, it just isn't you. Everyone likes The Lion King, right?" He smiled, though his eyes were far away. "Don't go back there, Oliver. Stay here with me." She wrapped her legs round him and pulled him towards her, pushing one hand down the back of his pants. He rested his head on hers and sighed. She pulled back and looked at him, but his face was unreadable. Her first instinct was to keep talking, but she threw that idea out immediately. Best go nonverbal, she thought, and started dropping little kisses all over his face. She felt his lips curve into a smile as he slid his hands up her thighs.
"I really like this skirt," he said, apropos of nothing.
"Oh really, she answered, amused. "Why is that?"
"Easy access," he whispered in her ear, and she giggled. He pushed the skirt up and slid his hand in her panties, and she gasped as he found her clit immediately, and started sliding his fingers inside her. She could barely think while he was doing that, and managed to moan, "Why don't we break in your new bed?"
They were already kissing as they fell through the doorway, pulling at each other's clothes, but not getting very far until they broke apart, laughing. She pulled at his top and he took off his pants, and he went straight for her panties, not even bothering with her shirt and bra. "Good to know you've got your priorities straight, Oliver," she laughed and she pushed him back until he was half-sitting, half-lying on the bed, completely naked and hard.
"You're still dressed," he complained, and she made a show of slowly unbuttoning her top and throwing it at him, and unhooking her bra, letting her boobs bounce free. She looked up at his sharp intake of breath, and noticed his eyes fixed on her breasts, and smiled fondly. She felt at her waist to take off her skirt, only for him to say, "No, leave it on." She looked up and was transfixed by the heated expression in his eyes. Instead, she lifted the hem until he could see her pussy, and slid her fingers through her curls, spreading her wetness, making him moan. She knelt on the bed straddling his legs, and grabbed his stiff cock, passing a thumb over the head. She couldn't resist bending over to give it a quick lick, which turned into three or four, until she just had to start sucking, the moans above her head giving her encouragement. Her mouth was starting to fill with precome, and she realised he was getting closer when he said her name, and put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. She looked up at him, innocently, mouth still fastened on his cock, and he had to close his eyes to stop from coming.
"Felicity . . ." his voice was hoarse with effort. Her mouth slipped off him with a pop, and he groaned. "I really want to come inside you." She felt a sudden gush between her legs at the words, and decided she wanted him to feel it too. She grabbed his hand and put it between her legs, and he slid two fingers inside her to the knuckles, pinching her clit between them, and she shuddered, already gone with her first orgasm. He fastened his mouth on her nipple, and fucked her hard with his fingers, relishing the wetness that dripped past them. But she wanted more than that, and pulled his hand away, putting it on her waist instead. She managed to straddle him and started lowering herself on his cock, looking into Oliver's eyes as it slid into her inch by inch until she was fully seated in his lap, and needed to catch her breath.
Oliver had other ideas – he kissed her as deep as he could, playing with her boobs, rubbing her nipples.
She started to ride him, slowly at first, then faster, her boobs bouncing as she rose and fell in his lap, and he flushed all over as she babbled his name on the downstroke. He plunged his thumb on her clit and the stimulation became almost unbearable – she came again, her pussy shuddering around him, and wailed, but he wasn't there yet. She was getting tired, and she held onto his shoulders, burying her face in his neck as she rode him, her "oh, oh, oh" getting louder and louder until he yelled and came, kissing her neck and her breasts feverishly. They were both exhausted, and supported each other for a few seconds, trying to catch their breath.
Felicity winced as she lifted herself off him – she always forgot what a strain being on top was on her thighs. But it was so worth it, and Oliver seemed to think so too. He'd fallen back on the pillows, and was having trouble keeping his eyes open.
"It's ok, Oliver. Get some rest," she said gently, as he seemed to be trying to force himself to stay awake for her sake. He smiled and drifted off, mouthing something which sounded like "I love you." He was not recovered, no matter what he said. Well, she was going to make sure he was safe. He had done so much for this city, for her, and for their friends. It was her turn now.
She took off her skirt and tried to go to sleep, but was too keyed up and got up again, glancing at Oliver to make sure that she hadn't woken him. She grabbed her tablet to make some more tweaks to her coding, thinking angrily of the look of contempt on Waller's face earlier. And it hadn't taken much to convince Diggle that she'd been bluffing, either. What Waller and even Diggle didn't know was that she was not the damsel in distress. She was not the princess to be rescued - she was the fucking dragon. Wow. Was that dark? She had a sudden moment of self-doubt – was she doing the right thing? Was she evil now? A snore at her side interrupted this train of thought and she looked fondly at Oliver, who was down for the count. All his scars stood out on his pale chest – yes, his muscle tone was amazing, and there was a bulk to him that she loved feeling on top of her and crushing her into the mattress, but the burn marks and bullet wounds made her want to weep for him. This latest shitfest had left him with a huge brand on his back and who knows how many emotional scars. And she'd decided it was enough. He'd paid, and paid, for whatever crime the universe had decided he was guilty of. And no-one, no-one was going to touch Oliver again. Except her. In a good way.
After her fourth yawn, she decided to call it a day, but as soon as she lay down, her eyes flew open and she couldn't fall asleep. She tossed and turned a little, ending up on her side with Oliver behind her. She was just wondering if she should start counting sheep, when Oliver's arm circled her waist. She'd have thought he was doing it in his sleep, except his fingers went straight between her legs.
"I thought you were asleep!" Now she could feel his cock against her ass, hard and leaking.
"Was asleep," he answered. "Awake now," he said as his fingers spread her pussy and slid in. He kissed her shoulder and seemed to have a moment of doubt. "Are you sore? Do you want me to stop?"
"Don't you dare stop," she moaned, as he fucked her with his fingers, pushing two in as deep as he could. He slid his cock inside her and started thrusting, his fingers playing with her clit. He went for a slow rhythm, taking his time. She wanted him deeper, though, and she pulled her hips away and he slipped out of her, looking almost comically disappointed, until she got on her hands and knees on the bed, with her pussy facing him, open and wet for him. He groaned behind her and then she felt him get up on his knees and grab her hips. He slid inside her roughly, too turned on to go slow, and started fucking her, his balls slapping against her ass. She cried with every thrust and he grunted, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. After a few wild thrusts he groaned long and loud, and then stopped moving, only to drape himself over her back and start fondling her pussy again. She was close too, and could only whimper as she came, her thighs trembling with the effort of staying on her hands and knees.
They collapsed on the bed, and this time she found herself dropping off to sleep almost immediately. One thought stopped her for a few seconds – did she really think she could keep Oliver safe forever? Would her love be enough to defend him against all that the world threw at him? It didn't matter, she thought fiercely. For as long as she could, she would protect him, just as he did for her, and the city. And so she drifted off to sleep, Oliver already snoring behind her with one arm casually looped around her waist. Live in the moment, she thought muzzily, as she floated off. Here and now, they were safe. Oliver was safe.