Hey guys, so I'm updating a day early because I'm leaving on vacation at the end of the week. Since I will be on a cruise and have no Internet access, I won't be able to update until I get back in a couple of weeks. Thanks in advance for hanging in there!
As usual, thank you guys for taking the time to comment last chapter. There's lots more excitement and angst headed your way. Get ready! Please read and review!
Chapter 17
Oliver had done another sweep of the auction area and dining room while Diggle went to the security checkpoints. There wasn't any suspicious activity as far as he could tell. The pair met up in front of the stairs once more.
"No sign of The Dodger," Diggle stated. "Or Felicity. We need her, Oliver."
"Dig, I know," Oliver mumbled and pinched the bridge of his nose. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he started calling Felicity's number when he spotted her across the room. She was rushing toward him with an anxious look on her face. Seeing that she was still upset made his gut twist. Oliver had barely gotten her name out before she threw herself into his arms.
"We have a problem," she rushed out in a whisper. Felicity pressed closer to Oliver, afraid that if any of the security guards got a good look at her then there would be a panic. It would be all over for her if that happened. "Look at my neck and don't react."
As soon as Oliver saw the blinking collar around her neck, his heart dropped. "Diggle," he called urgently.
"Damn it," Diggle cursed. "What the hell happened?"
"The Dodger knows I came here with Oliver. He thinks I have the best chance of stealing the broach. He said if I go to the cops...I'm going to be decapitated, aren't I?" she panicked and started to pull away. "You shouldn't even be near me."
Oliver refused to let her go and rubbed her back. "Felicity, try and stay calm."
"Easier said than done."
"Give Diggle your phone and do what The Dodger said. He'll track you while I get my suit." Oliver had stashed it in a secret spot nearby, so that he could easily retrieve it. He took her small hands in his and looked her straight in the eye. "I won't let anything happen to you. Do you understand?"
Oliver's words broke through the paralyzing fear and she nodded. She believed he would keep her safe. She believed in him. "Yes."
"Go," he instructed before leaving her.
Felicity adjusted her long hair over the collar and handed Diggle her phone.
"Oliver's not the only one who's got your back, Felicity," Diggle quietly assured her. "Even if you don't see me, I'll be nearby. Don't worry."
Not trusting her voice, she gave Diggle a tight but thankful smile. She then walked over to the display case. When she was sure no one was looking, Felicity removed the broach and shoved it in her purse. She had just begun to walk away when she heard Ray call her name. Felicity cringed and didn't dare turn around. Not now.
"I must say I'm seriously considering placing a bid on that broach."
"That's good, Ray." Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears. A cold sweat broke out across her forehead as she felt him come closer.
"It would be the perfect addition to my art collection. I just bought a painting by-"
"Um, Ray, I have to go. I'll talk to you later," Felicity blurted out and made a mad dash to get away from him. She couldn't put his life in danger, too.
"Felicity?" he replied. "What are you-hey, where's the...?"
Felicity vaguely heard Diggle's voice behind her. He would take care of Ray and make sure he didn't follow. Felicity walked to the flight of stairs in the furthest corner of the room and made her way up to the roof. She shivered in the cold night air and watched as her breath formed clouds of smoke. Her body was trembling, but it wasn't entirely from the chill in her bones. Walking to the center of the roof, she waited like The Dodger instructed.
The Dodger stepped out of the shadows. "Do you have it?"
"Yes." Felicity retrieved the broach from her purse and held it up.
"I should have a woman do my bidding more often. You're much more efficient than the other male dolts I've worked with."
"Don't you mean held hostage?"
"Mere semantics, luv." He held out his hand for the broach.
Felicity begrudgingly gave it to him. "You've got what you want. Now take this thing off."
"We're not finished quite yet. I need to be extra sure that you didn't tell anyone about me, so that collar will have to stay on until I get out of here safely."
"What?" Felicity exclaimed.
"Don't look so shocked. It really is a brilliant plan."
"Not that brilliant," a deep voice interrupted. It was the voice of The Arrow. "Let her go, Dodger. Now." Oliver emerged from the darkness. In response, The Dodger grabbed Felicity and placed her between him and the arrow pointed at his heart.
"This is exactly why that bomb is still strapped around your pretty neck. If you'd only kept your mouth shut..."
"I didn't tell anyone," Felicity lied. "Perhaps you're more predictable than you think."
"Back for more?" The Dodger called to The Arrow. "Was the last man's death not enough blood on your hands? Will you now deprive this young woman of her life?"
"You detonated that bomb," Oliver replied, taking a few steps closer. The Dodger's arms around Felicity and the blinking collar around her neck had his blood boiling. There was also a significant undercurrent of fear, but Oliver suppressed it. There was no time for doubt if he was going to save Felicity. He had to stay strong and in control. She was counting on him.
"You forced my hand, just like you're doing now." He raised his hand with the trigger.
"Let her go, and we'll settle this," Oliver ordered.
The Dodger squeezed Felicity tighter, causing her to gasp. "Don't do anything stupid. Lower your bow."
"Don't," Felicity exclaimed.
"Quiet," The Dodger snapped. "Do it, Robin Hood." Felicity whimpered once more at his constricting grip. Oliver did as The Dodger said. He lowered his bow and dropped the arrow to the ground. "We're not that different, you and I. We both steal from the rich."
"I am nothing like you," Oliver ground out.
"I suppose that's true. I'm smarter." The Dodger smiled cynically. "You want the girl so bad, take her." He tossed Felicity at Oliver, which normally would've been good if it hadn't been for the purpose of blowing them both up. The Dodger, using Felicity as a living grenade, was about to push the detonator. It was then that Oliver threw a hidden dart in his hand. Unlike last time, he found his target.
Oliver caught Felicity before she hit the ground and righted her. He then addressed The Dodger. "Your median nerve's been severed. You couldn't push that button if you tried." Oliver smiled smugly. "By the way, I'm not Robin Hood. And my partner's no Little John."
It was then that Diggle crept up on The Dodger and punched him. He fell to the ground, unconscious. Diggle grabbed the trigger to deactivate the collar. Felicity breathed a sigh of relief while Oliver tore it off and threw it to the side.
"I'm going to take the broach back downstairs," Diggle informed them. "I had to tell Palmer and security that you'd taken it to be shined."
Oliver faced Felicity once more and placed his hand on her cheek. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, thanks to you." She beamed with pride.
"It was nothing," he told her, unable to hide a small smile of his own. "Come on. We need to get you away from here."
Oliver turned to leave as Felicity bent to pick up her purse. She'd dropped it during the hostage chaos. It was pure coincidence that she noticed the crumpled form on the ground across from them stir. The Dodger lifting his head and his good hand seemed to pass in a blur. Through the shock, her mind was able to focus on only one thing-the gun in his hand.
"Watch out," Felicity exclaimed and pushed Oliver out of the way. She cried out in pain as the bullet pierced her skin.
"Felicity!" Oliver shouted and raised his bow. It was like his mind completely disconnected from his body, and all that was left was pure protective instinct and rage. Before Oliver could even comprehend what he was doing, he let loose one arrow after another until all three were buried in The Dodger's chest.
"Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" Oliver questioned Felicity. They were in the Foundry. Felicity sat on a stool with a blanket wrapped around her chest as Diggle tended to her wound. The bullet had hit her in the right shoulder. It wasn't fatal but still hurt like hell.
"Nuh uh," Felicity refused yet again. "You and Diggle never go to the hospital. Besides, Dig gave me some of those aspirins." She tilted her head and gazed at him curiously. "Are you spinning?"
Oliver looked to Diggle, who mouthed "Oxycodone." Felicity hadn't been wrong about the drug making her loopy. After he'd taken care of The Dodger, Oliver and Diggle had quickly and quietly gotten Felicity out of there. The SCPD would handle the rest.
"You were very brave," Diggle complimented.
"It was nothing. I always wanted to say I've taken a bullet for someone and now I can," she said happily.
"It'll heal fine, but you'll have a scar."
"Ooh, my very own scar." Felicity sounded delighted. "You and Oliver are always comparing war wounds. Now I won't be the odd man out-or woman. Whatever. Can I have another aspirin?" She held her hand out like a child waiting for a piece of candy. "Pleeaase..."
"Not yet. If I give you any more, you won't be able to walk straight," Diggle joked. "I'm finished anyway."
Oliver came to inspect the wound. John had patched her up well. Of course, it wouldn't have been necessary if Oliver hadn't let Felicity get shot in the first place. The anger and guilt threatened to overwhelm him, and he was sure it would take hold later. For now, his priority was taking care of Felicity.
While Diggle put away the medical supplies, Oliver helped Felicity with her dress. He zipped it back up. Unlike earlier tonight, he refused to let himself enjoy the feeling of her soft skin. "We need to get you home."
"I could use a nap. Vigilantism is hard work. I don't know how you go out in the field every night. Criminals are exhausting!"
Diggle snorted in response. Oliver grabbed his suit jacket and placed it over her shoulders before helping her to stand. Felicity wasn't exactly steady on her feet, so he wound an arm around her waist. He helped her up the stairs while Diggle went ahead to the car. Oliver sat in the back with Felicity and let her rest her head on his shoulder.
"Diggle, do you ever get sick of being stuck in traffic?" Felicity asked mid-yawn.
"I wouldn't mind driving one of the old army tanks again. That would certainly help us get places faster."
"You could blast the other drivers right off the road," Felicity giggled. "It's like that old Battlefield video game. God, I was so good at that." She continued to ramble for the rest of the drive home. Since it was late, the drive was much shorter than usual from the lack of traffic.
Oliver remained silent and stoic until they pulled up in front of their building. He got out first and offered Felicity his hand. She hissed in pain as she twisted to get out. "Are you okay?" He was asking her that a lot tonight.
"Whoa, I want off this roller coaster," the blonde mumbled, swaying.
"You need help taking her up?" Diggle asked.
"No, I've got her. Thank you, John." His partner knew it was for more than the offer.
"You're welcome. See you tomorrow. Felicity, feel better."
"Night, Little John."
Diggle shook his head and returned to the driver's side. Before getting in, he said, "Because you're injured, I will let that slide."
"Ugh, not more walking," Felicity whined and placed a hand to her head.
"I've got you." Oliver placed one arm under her knees and the other along her back before hoisting her up into his arms. He made sure that the shoulder resting against his chest was the one uninjured. Almost immediately, Felicity snuggled into him.
"You're really strong," Felicity observed almost wistfully.
Oliver carried her through the main doors. The two men at the front desk stared at them with wide eyes. "Is she okay?" Carl, the night manager, asked.
"I got shot tonight," Felicity automatically answered.
"She means she had too many shots," Oliver amended and the men smirked in understanding. He kept a steady path to the elevators and shrugged casually. "The girl is a lightweight."
"Are we home yet?" Felicity yawned.
"Almost," Oliver assured her as the elevator ascended.
One of Felicity's hands was drawing circles on his chest. "What do your tattoos mean? I've always wanted to ask." Her hand rested over the star on his left side.
Oliver hesitated before answering. "The star is a symbol of the Bratva."
"The dragon on your back?"
"Shado had the same tattoo. It honors her."
"And the Chinese symbols?"
"They mean a few different things. It's a long story."
"I wanted to get a tattoo once, but I chickened out. I freaked before the guy even touched the needle to my skin." Her fingers resumed their lazy circles.
It was a relief when the elevator doors opened. His hold on Felicity and her light touches were getting to him. He'd come so close to losing her tonight. It was pure luck that the wound wasn't fatal. Those first few seconds after she'd been hit had been the most terrifying. Oliver's instinct now was to hold onto her tight. To make sure that she was real and safe and breathing. A tiny voice in the back of his mind, on the other hand, whispered of selfishness and unworthiness to seek such comfort in her.
Minutes later they were in the loft. Oliver carried Felicity up the stairs and into her room. He paused for a minute, unsure what to do. He would've laid Felicity on the bed but getting shot meant her dress was dirty and stained with blood.
"Do you think you can stand?" he asked her. "You should change out of that dress."
"If I have to," Felicity sighed, not liking any situation that forced her out of Oliver's arms. But he had a point. Her hold on him tightened for a moment before she let him release her. Oliver set her gently on her feet. The room continued to sway, but she managed to stay upright.
"I'll just..." Oliver turned around to give her some privacy. He wouldn't leave her until she was safe in bed.
Felicity grabbed her pajamas and attempted to unzip her dress, but it was useless. Her movements were sloppy and constricted from her injury. "Frack," she cursed. "Um, Oliver, the dress is winning. I need your help."
Oliver swallowed hard and faced her once more. Spotting her bathrobe at the end of her bed, he grabbed it and draped it over her shoulders. He then pulled her forward and reached behind to undo her dress for what felt like the hundredth time that night. They were so close that their breath mingled. For the first time since Felicity took the painkillers, she was silent. Once the dress was undone, Oliver turned her around and instructed her to hold onto the bathrobe. He carefully pulled the dress down until it slid to the floor.
Felicity stepped out from the fabric and tightened her robe before walking over to the bed. The effort it would take to get her pajamas on wasn't necessary. She didn't look at Oliver in fear that he would see the flush forming on her skin. After laying down, Oliver pulled the covers up and over her.
"Do you need anything else?"
She reached for his wrist. "Can you sit with me until I fall asleep?" She wasn't ready to be alone yet.
"Sure." Oliver sat down beside her.
"Do you think we'll ever attend an event when one of us won't be held at gunpoint?" Felicity mused.
"Maybe third time's the charm."
"You were really brave tonight."
"Felicity, you had a bomb collar strapped to your neck and then took a bullet for me," Oliver argued. His voice took on a hard tone at the end as he re-imagined Felicity on the ground, bleeding.
Felicity might've been feeling a bit spacey, but she wasn't so out of it that she couldn't detect the hint of self-loathing in his voice. "But you're the one who ultimately defeated The Dodger. Your aim was perfect. I knew you could do it."
"Try to sleep," Oliver coaxed her.
"No," Felicity replied, fighting the haze in her mind. He needed to listen to her. She tried to sit up, "Don't doubt yourself. You're a hero, Oliver." She gasped in discomfort as pain shot through her shoulder.
"Hey, okay." Oliver gently guided her back down. "I hear you," he soothed and ran a hand through her blond locks. "But right now, you need to rest."
Felicity placed her hand over his to keep it in place. "I am tired." Her eyes closed and a low, happy yawn escaped her as she snuggled her cheek against his touch. "And to think I was so mad at you for snapping about Ray."
Oliver remained silent while gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. It seemed to soothe her. "You were so ridiculous," Felicity sleepily continued. "I like Ray, but he's not you."
Her words made him pause. For a second, Oliver thought he hadn't heard her correctly. Even if he had, the painkillers were making her incoherent. Felicity didn't know what she was saying. Her eyes opened, still fighting the fatigue and confusion. For the briefest of seconds, her bright, cerulean gaze cleared and pinned him down. "I love you," she murmured with a surety that both lifted and unnerved him.
"Felicity," Oliver whispered, but it was no use. Her eyes had already shut, and she was fast asleep.
Groaning, Felicity woke to an onslaught of pain in her shoulder. It took a moment for her to remember what exactly had happened the night before. The painkillers Dig had given to her really had knocked her out. She'd been in a deep sleep all night.
Reaching back with her good arm, Felicity felt the bandage on her right shoulder. She got up slowly to test out her legs. They were much sturdier this morning now that the painkillers had worn off. Walking over to the mirror, she pulled her bathrobe down and peeled off the bandage. The stitches were small and clean. Diggle's medical training in the army sure had paid off.
The knock on her door had Felicity quickly covering herself. "Felicity, are you awake?" came Oliver's voice.
"Yes," she replied.
"Are you okay?" He sounded concerned.
Retying her bathrobe and holding the top closed, Felicity went to open the door. She stuck her head out and saw Oliver dressed in jeans and a sweater. "You're not going to the office today?"
"No. I've got business at Verdant. I'm supposed to meet Tommy in an hour. How are you feeling?"
"Like some jerk shot me in the shoulder," she joked. "Other than that I'm fine."
"I'll get you something for the pain."
"No," Felicity quickly objected. "No more painkillers." Last night was kind of a blur, but she remembered enough to feel embarrassed.
"I'll get you regular aspirin. I promise."
Since her shoulder was burning something fierce, she relented, "Okay. I'll be downstairs in a few minutes." Felicity shut the door once more to change. The sight of her cocktail dress on the floor had her turning red. Felicity couldn't believe she'd asked Oliver to help her get undressed. Oliver standing so close while his hands undid the zipper and pulled the dress down her body was the one blindingly clear memory from last night. She placed her hands over her face and shook her head. "How do I get myself into these situations?"
Felicity changed quickly into a tank top and a pair of jeans. She didn't want to keep Oliver waiting and make him think that something was wrong. Before leaving her bedroom, Felicity grabbed her glasses and put her hair up in a ponytail. True to his word, Oliver was waiting in the kitchen with a couple of aspirins and a glass of water.
"Thank you," she said and gladly drank them down.
"I need to check the wound," Oliver told her. "Do you mind?"
Felicity shook her head and turned around. "I already did, but go ahead." It wasn't like she was an expert on these things. She felt him gently peel off the bandage. As usual when she was nervous, she felt the need to fill the silence. "I'm sorry if I was a handful last night. I wasn't exactly myself. Painkillers always make me loopy."
"You did warn me about that." His fingers traced around the wound. He was probably inspecting the skin, but it didn't stop a shiver from running up her spine. "What's the last thing you remember?"
The room suddenly felt like a thousand degrees. "Um...I think I was having some dress issues. Thanks for, uh, helping me with that, by the way," she rushed out. "Not all men are such gentlemen in that type of situation." She immediately thought of Cooper and his occasionally inappropriate comments over the years.
"So that's it? No memory of anything after that?" Oliver prodded.
Felicity frowned, drawing a blank. "No, why? Did something else happen?" An array of not-so-flattering scenarios came to mind. "Crap, I didn't start singing Spice Girls, did I?"
"No," Oliver reassured her. "Nothing like that." He put the bandage back on and turned her to face him. "I know it hurts, but the wound looks good."
"Good," she acknowledged. Felicity watched him closely and couldn't help but get the feeling that he was holding something back. She didn't push it, though.
"Thank you," he said, meeting her eyes.
She smiled. "You're welcome."
"About The Dodger..." Oliver trailed off. "I know how you feel about...killing. Felicity, I-"
Felicity shushed him before he could get another word out. "Oliver, I'm not judging you. Please don't think that," she assured him. "Working with you these last couple of months, I've learned that not every situation is black and white. Sometimes the bad guys leave you no choice. If it comes down to you or them, then of course I choose you. I'm just sorry that I was the one to put you in that type of situation. If I'd been paying attention, he wouldn't have-"
"Felicity," Oliver interjected and took her hand in his. He couldn't let her take the blame for this. He wouldn't. "The Dodger had you, and he was going to hurt you. He did hurt you. There was no choice to make." He gave her small, reassuring smile. "Besides, I'm partially to blame. What I said to you about being distracted, I was out of line. I'm sorry."
"I was actually coming to find you before The Dodger cornered me. I knew that facing him again was stressing you out, and I will admit that Ray can get carried away-"
"Felicity, it wasn't only that," Oliver admitted. "When I decided to become The Arrow, I was going to do everything by myself. But then I met Diggle, and I wasn't alone anymore. Now with you...I've come to rely on you, too."
Felicity gently squeezed his hand. "Oliver, you don't have to worry about Ray," she told him softly. "I'm still your girl." At Oliver's slightly shocked stare and realizing what she said, Felicity hastily corrected, "Not your girl girl. I'm your IT girl. What I mean is I'm your partner." She wanted to kick herself for how out of sorts she sounded. She could feel her cheeks flushing.
Oliver watched her silently with a tiny grin threatening to take hold. Felicity was most honest mid nervous babble. He caught himself, though. He'd made a decision this morning, and he was sticking with it. Suddenly, Oliver pulled his hand away from hers. "Try to take it easy today and have Diggle redress the wound."
Felicity frowned at the shift in Oliver's demeanor. The intimacy of the moment was lost as his voice took on a more formal, detached tone. "Okay. Um, do you want me to make dinner tonight before we head to the Foundry?"
"No. Don't worry about me. I'll be gone most of the day. I'll meet you there." He checked his watch. "I gotta go."
Felicity wondered if she had said something wrong. It's not like Oliver wore his emotions on his face often, but there had definitely been a cold shift. Looking after him, Felicity got an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She'd come to rely on him, too, and not just for her safety. The more time they spent together, the more she craved his warmth. Shaking off her unease, Felicity went to get ready for the day. Oliver was probably eager to put last night behind them and move forward. Felicity would do the same.