A/N: Responding to reviews is on my agenda for today (assuming my Internet connection holds up) but I figured you might like the update first. Thanks for the amazing response the story has gotten. It's flattering that so many of you are enjoying it. I'll post again as soon as I have time to edit the rest of what I have written. Thanks for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing – I hope you enjoy this chapter from Felicity's POV just as much!

Chapter 3

Felicity tried not to watch as Oliver went through one of his many martial arts routines, muscles rippling and bare chest glistening in a way that made her ovaries stand up and do a little dance of appreciation. She huffed in irritation. Was it completely necessary for him to parade around half naked?

It's just pheromones, she told herself. It's biology. It's no big deal.

Yes, he was hot and yummy and deliciously male. And his abs were a thing of beauty she'd have suspected were Photoshopped if not for the fact that she saw them up close and personal almost every freaking day.

His abs were half the reason she'd taken Lindsay's advice and jumped back into the dating world with such gusto. Frankly, she was afraid that if she didn't find another outlet for this ridiculous attraction she felt for Oliver, she might end up doing something stupid… like jumping him in the middle of one of his shirtless training sessions.

Maybe she'd have a better handle on her hormones if he weren't also being abnormally friendly of late. He brought her tea and coffee, and he regularly ordered from her favorite restaurants on late nights spent in his vigilante man cave. He'd also begun asking her questions about things that had nothing to do with work or the list or finding Walter. Suddenly, he wanted to know things about her other than how fast she could work her magic on the mainframe.

In short, he wanted to be friends. But she was beginning to wonder if that was actually possible. After all, things got complicated when one friend had naked thoughts about the other at least five times a day. And that was only counting the couple of hours she spent at Verdant each evening before going home to an apartment that still reeked of his presence. She couldn't even sit on her sofa anymore without seeing his lean frame stretched out against the cushions the morning after she was mugged.

She blamed all the testosterone in the room whenever Oliver was present. That and all the pheromones he was probably sending out all over the place. And she hadn't had sex in a really long time – too long. Of course she was responding to Oliver's sweaty, muscled body contorting itself all around her work space. I mean, how could a girl be expected to work under these conditions?

A bead of sweat trickled down his chest. You could hand him a towel, or you know, lick him like an ice cream cone melting on a hot, sweaty, summer day.

She jerked her mind away from that lovely image and back to her monitor. Focus on the work, get it done, and get out before you embarrass yourself, she mentally scolded her wayward libido. She made a little sound of irritation, her fingers stabbing at the keyboard.

"Are you alright?" Diggle's voice broke through her mental parade of naked Oliver cones.

No. "I'm fine. I'm just… hot." Understatement of the century, Felicity.

Oliver walked over, chugging a bottle of water. "How is that search coming along?"

"Still searching. It might be a while, so you can go back to your…" she waved her hand vaguely in the direction of his training area, eyes firmly on her monitor.

"This might be a good time for you to join me. I've been meaning to work with you since the mugging."

What? "What?" She winced at the shrill edge to her tone. "I mean no. I mean it's not necessary. Diggle has already pounded me into the mat three times since the mugging."

"Diggle is too soft on you," Oliver replied calmly. "I want to be sure if someone comes after you again that you have the ability to defend yourself. Because they might want more than your wallet next time."

"Really, I'm good." The idea of sparring with Oliver, or engaging in any kind of activity that put her into direct contact with his body, made her insides shudder in equal parts delight and horror. "I'm carrying pepper spray and a Taser now." She didn't mention that she'd nearly tased herself in the gun shop while handling her new weapon; clearly she had some practicing to do.

"Felicity…"

"And I can't do it right now anyway because…" she paused, her mind racing through possible excuses. "I have a coffee date. With a guy. So, you know, I can't get all sweaty with you before the date because that usually comes after the date." What the hell are you saying? She hurriedly backtracked. "Not that, you know, we'd be getting sweaty sweaty, just…hot… and sweaty. And… " For the love of God, stop talking. "And it's not like Gerwin and I will be getting sweaty either. It's just coffee because we haven't even met yet. But he seems nice. Or his profile seems nice, you know, and his picture. Definitely not the 'trying to get into my pants after a measly coffee date' type. He'd at least buy me dinner first." Shut up, shut up!

Felicity clamped her lips shut and chanced a peek at Diggle and Oliver. Diggle was studiously looking at his phone, but he couldn't quite hide his grin which didn't surprise her. He found her lack of conversational filter entertaining, and she was sure the only reason he wasn't laughing at her was because he didn't want to further humiliate her in front of Oliver.

As for Oliver, she couldn't quite decipher his expression, but the barest quirk of his lips told her that he was amused. Amused and…something else. Something she'd seen in his expression more often in recent weeks. Something she couldn't read, though not for lack of trying. Because Oliver was a complicated man, and her experience with mysterious, bottled up billionaires who masqueraded as unrepentant playboys by day and crime fighting vigilantes by night was limited to the one currently regarding her a little more intently than she was comfortable with.

Could he tell that she was lying? She had no idea, but he hadn't been alone on the island where he'd learned to fight with such deadly accuracy. God only knew what else he'd learned there – maybe Jedi mind tricks and how to spot liars from fifty paces. She knew that liars usually had tells, so she concentrated on schooling her expression into one that she hoped was open and honest. She felt an overwhelming urge to blink rapidly – maybe that was her tell? She widened her eyes momentarily before succumbing.

"Is something wrong with your eye?"

Dammit. "Eyelash." She was definitely not cut out for intrigue and deception. Or for talking without jamming her foot in her mouth, something she'd been cursing since puberty.

After a moment, Oliver said, "So. Coffee with… Gerwin?"

"His mother's German," she replied in answer to his unspoken question. It really was an odd name, but she was trying to push past it. "I should get going. I'll text you when the search completes." She pushed aside a niggling feeling of guilt. It wasn't really a lie since she actually did have a coffee date with Gerwin. It just wasn't tonight. "I should go."

Felicity could feel Oliver's eyes on her as she set the computer to ping her phone when the search completed. She forced herself not to look at him. Instead, she stood and pulled on her new lightweight, blue trench and grabbed her bag from the table. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Felicity."

Don't look. But the weight of his gaze was like some kind of magnet pulling her blue eyes up to meet his. He smiled and a bolt of lightning, a sudden awareness, made her heart leap. "Yes?"

"Bring your workout clothes tomorrow."

And they were back to that. She sighed, knowing that once he set his mind on something, he wasn't likely to change it. She nodded before turning and hurrying out the door, wondering if she could fake a relapse of her sprained ankle.

Several days later, Felicity stood somewhat rigidly on the training mat with Oliver behind her. He was attempting to show her how to break a hold if someone grabbed her from behind, but it wasn't going that well.

"Felicity, concentrate. Your life could depend on knowing how to do this at some point." His voice was hard, his friendlier demeanor gone for the moment.

He'd been this way since the moment they'd stepped on the mat – hard, relentless, and emotionless. Felicity knew that this was the Oliver from the island. This Oliver was a survivor, a hunter. This was The Hood that faced down the criminal element of Starling City. Not for the first time, she wondered what went through the minds of the men whom the vigilante confronted. Being faced with this Oliver, features hidden behind his hood, voice distorted, must be utterly terrifying.

"Felicity!"

She jumped. "I'm sorry, but you're making me nervous."

That seemed to get his attention. He stepped back and turned her to face him. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm in complete control of every movement."

"This is just not something I'm good at. I've never been in a physical fight unless you count the time that Chris Vaughn sat next to me on the school bus and his crazy girlfriend Natalie Cucino yanked me off my seat at the lunch table by my ponytail the next day. And we didn't actually fight since the principal saw the whole thing and intervened."

Oliver sighed. "Felicity, there was no one in the park to intervene on your behalf when you were mugged. And I'm patrolling now, but the chances of me being nearby if something like that happens again are not good. Then there's Helena."

Felicity couldn't hide her grimace at that name. "What about her?"

"She knows that you work for me. She poses a threat to you."

"Oliver, I was a means to an end the last time she blew through town on the crazy train. She doesn't have a reason to come after me again." Memories of Helena taunting her that night in her office flashed through her mind, and her stomach churned.

"Maybe that was true before I tried to kill her, but it's personal now. If she comes back to Starling City, she'll be looking for ways to hurt me."

"There's a long list of people whose names would be far above mine if that's true," she pointed out. "Helena is a particular brand of crazy, so she's more likely to target girlfriends past and present than IT specialists. She made it clear that she still has feelings for you."

"You never told me what you and Helena talked about that night."

Oliver was watching her closely, and Felicity couldn't shake the sudden nervousness his gaze elicited. Because if there was one thing she didn't want to talk about, it was what Helena had to say that night. "It wasn't a slumber party, Oliver. She threatened me and I gave her what she wanted."

She turned and walked over to the desk. Uncapping her water bottle, she took a long sip before speaking again. "Can we just pick this up again tomorrow? I need to head home and shower because I'm meeting Gerwin for coffee."

Oliver joined her, picking up his own bottle of water. "Coffee again? I thought coffee dates were usually followed by dinner dates. Unless this is actually your first date."

Busted. "You knew I was lying?" Felicity asked. One more thing she could add to his island skill set.

"Felicity, you have many talents. Lying isn't one of them," he replied, his brows lifting slightly in amusement.

"Okay, well fighting isn't either, and when you suggested I be your trainee, I panicked," she explained. She picked up her towel and swiped it over the back of her neck. "Anyway, I should probably get going."

"Where are you meeting him?"

His tone was casual, but something about the benign nature of it instantly made her suspicious. "Why do you want to know?"

He shrugged and smiled the way he always did when he was trying to charm her and get his way. "Idle curiosity."

She considered this before relenting. "I'm meeting him at a café in Five Points, but I have no plans to walk anywhere near the park. I'll drive over and pay for metered parking on the main street."

"Okay." He picked up his own towel. "So what does Gerwin do?"

"He's a corporate lawyer, and according to his profile, he has a cat and he loves golfing on weekends." Felicity took another sip of her water.

"Do you have a safety system?"

She nearly spat out the water as she tried to swallow without choking. "This is a coffee date, Oliver. I hardly think I'm going to need a safe word tonight – or, hopefully, ever. I'm not exactly a Fifty Shades kind of girl."

"Finally, a reference I'm familiar with." Oliver looked briefly amused. "Those books have given some bizarre ideas to a few of the women who keep trying to hook up with me in the club. But I'm not talking about safe words, Felicity. I'm talking about a safety system in which you notify someone when you get home after one of your dates."

"Gerwin is a cat owning corporate lawyer who golfs. I think I'm safe enough meeting him for coffee."

"You don't know what he is because he's a stranger. He could be lying on his profile."

Felicity rolled her eyes. She sat down at the computer and with a few keystrokes, she accessed Gerwin's profile. "Meet Gerwin," she said, waving a hand toward the photo of a dark haired, rather serious looking man of about thirty. With a few more keystrokes, she accessed his Facebook page. "As you can see, the photos match. And here's the corporate website for his law office where he's listed as a junior partner. I also searched the Internet for other photos of Gerwin." She pulled up a search engine. "And when I did that, I didn't find any duplicate profiles, but I did find photos of him at a golfing tournament in Coast City a few months ago. I searched for any police reports connected to his name – local, state and federal. I accessed his phone records and ran searches on frequently called numbers. I checked for marriage certificates, divorce decrees… I even checked vet records. Trust me when I say I'm not about to be catfished or otherwise scammed by a fake profile. And I found nothing on this guy that looks fishy."

"I'm guessing 'catfished' has nothing to do with fishing," Oliver commented, leaning against her desk.

"Catfished – as in Manti Te'o? Seriously, I realize there were no documentaries on the island, but you have no excuse for being behind on pop culture events that have occurred since your return from the dead."

"He's a football player, and I remember something about his girlfriend dying."

"His girlfriend was an online hoax – he was catfished. And other than running across a few guys who were being less than forthright about their lack of wives and girlfriends, I haven't hit any major snags in my online dating adventure."

"I have no doubt that you can run sufficient background searches on people, but you're still setting up dates with virtual strangers. And a background check can't tell you everything. There must be better places to meet people in this city."

"Like where – your club? The lost-and-found box looks like a lingerie model's underwear drawer, so I think I'll pass. And it's not like I have loads of free time between my job and the work I do for you."

"What about co-workers?"

Felicity snorted. "I work with a lot of guys, but they're all tech heads and weekend gamers who have one-track, digital world minds – not exactly my type since I have wider interests. That leaves you and Diggle, and I doubt I'm your type, so…"

"I wasn't aware I had a type," he said.

"Laurel, Helena, McKenna – trust me, you have a type." And it's definitely not blonde, babbling IT girls, she added silently.

Oliver nodded. "So if tech heads and gamers aren't your type, who is? Jocks? Suits?"

She shrugged as she logged off the computer and stood up. "Right now I'm taking Lindsay's advice and casting a wide net. It's been a while since I dated, to be honest. I briefly went through a bad boy phase in college where I was attracted to rockers in campus bands, but that ended badly. Generally, though, my type has always been the Daniel Jackson, manly nerd types." At Oliver's blank look, she prompted, "Stargate? Never mind."

"I still think it's a good idea for you to take some precautions – like sending a message to a friend when you get home every night."

"Fine – consider safety messaging officially instituted. If Lindsay's unavailable, I'll text you and Diggle. And I promise I'm being careful. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Actually, Diggle and I are having lunch at the diner if you want to join us. Carly mentioned she's missed seeing you."

She smiled, unable to stop the little burst of pleasure at his invitation. "Okay. I'll see you at lunch." She was halfway to the door when Oliver's voice stopped her.

"And Felicity?"

She turned, startled to see him right behind her. She really hated it when he snuck up on her like that. "What?"

Oliver leaned in and murmured, "Don't knock safe words until you've tried them." His expression relayed amusement; he was teasing her. And there it was again – that something else that she still hadn't quite figured out how to read.

Felicity could feel the heat climbing from her toes to her cheeks, the blush seeming to infuse her entire body. And then she fled the foundry as fast as her legs could carry her.

Up Next: More online dating, and more friendship/relationship development between Felicity and Oliver as they discuss more personal subjects.