6 Weeks Later

Time crawled not knowing when your enemy was going to strike. While some might become complacent, Oliver made a deliberate effort to stay vigilant because he knew that to do anything less could mean lives. He, Thea and Malcolm Merlyn had returned from training on Lian Yu two weeks prior and there was still no sign of the League of Assassins in Starling City. He had Team Arrow monitoring the public and private airports, Merlyn's spies outside Nanda Parbat watching for suspicious activity, and each night after his "work," he took to his motorcycle, crisscrossing the city. During his rounds, he checked on the people he cared about, reaffirming his mission to keep them safe.

Training had been difficult. Thea had demonstrated some real growth in her skills during the exercises and Oliver was proud of her progress. But it had been hard to see his Speedy acting with such ferocity – he recalled when she was afraid of ghost stories and grasshoppers in the garage. She was a formidable young woman now, capable of besting most men in a precarious situation. Of course, the men of the League would be exceptional fighters. He hoped she would never have to face them.

Oliver would not admit it aloud, but training on the island had unsettled him. Malcolm had insisted that they recreate his prior fight with Ra's Al Ghul with as much detail as possible and they reenacted it daily. Malcolm wanted him to learn Ra's Al Ghul's movements. He believed that if Oliver could get into the Demon's head, it would help him defeat their enemy. But Oliver seemed to bristle at this approach. Merlyn worried the younger man was still not ready. Not focused enough. Oliver sensed the his dissatisfaction.

Felicity noticed Oliver making his rounds sometimes, dressed in his Arrow gear. He kept a respectful distance, but she still caught sight of his breath rising in the cold dark air by the street light outside her home or in the shadows as she walked out of Verdant. He didn't stay long, maybe ten or fifteen minutes. Enough time to assure his friend was safe. Laurel and John confirmed they had seen him too. Given the threat against Oliver, Felicity found herself grateful for the sitings, as they reassured her that he was alright as well.

Unfortunately, Oliver was not lurking in the parking garage of Palmer Technologies on this particular Friday night as Felicity approached her car. Ray was still upstairs working on his ATOM suit. Her brain was weary and distracted by the day, as she unlocked the car door. She didn't notice the black van that stopped nearby. She didn't see the two men that got out either. Suddenly, there was a rag against her mouth and a black bag over her head. She disappeared inside the van. Then the unmarked vehicle exited the parking garage and disappeared into the streets.

On Saturday morning, Oliver arrived at a nondescript warehouse in The Glades ready for a day of combat training with Merlyn. It was a large structure with plenty of space where Merlyn had constructed rooms for specific purposes. This had become a regular meeting place for the two men and it was now a familiar ritual. Oliver would arrive around 9 am and they would practice with katanas until 11, then they would spend 30 minutes in a chamber Merlyn had erected to simulate the thin air and cold of the mountain. Next, they would fight again, this time with staffs or clubs. Sometimes Merlyn brought in a proxy, a seasoned fighter who could challenge Oliver with unexpected moves, but usually he sparred with Oliver himself. Often there were dangerous obstacles to maneuver around while they fought, as Merlyn sought to raise the level of difficulty in their matches.

God, I hate this sonofabitch, Oliver thought as he followed Malcolm into a new space. Merlyn flipped a switch and the overhead industrial lights illuminated the space. The two men moved to the center of the tiled floor of a new cavernous room that had just been renovated. One long wall consisted of windows. They were painted grey. On the opposite wall there was an upstairs floor with mirrored windows, presumably where the managers of the former manufacturing facility kept tabs on the workers below.

Oliver, dressed in black track pants and a grey t-shirt, faced Merlyn who was wearing a serious black karategi, befitting the Dark Archer. Pretentious prick, Oliver thought as they circled each other wielding heavy sticks. Merlyn's eyes were dark and serious as he advanced toward Oliver and took opportunities to engage him with his weapon. Their sticks made a sharp clack when they made contact.

"Good. Keep eye contact, Oliver," Merlyn directed. Oliver nodded. The two proceeded to engage again and sounds indicated each met the other evenly until there was a softer noise indicating Oliver had made contact with Merlyn's bicep. Merlyn made no audible sound, unfazed by this level of pain. Oliver saw a flash of color on his wrist and thought he'd made contact.

"How did that one get past you?" Oliver wondered aloud. Suddenly, Merlyn took this moment to advance unexpectedly and pummeled Oliver with a series of hits that made their mark and caused him to drop his stick.

"Maybe it didn't," Merlyn stated matter-of-factly. He stepped back and centered himself, lowering his stick while Oliver recovered from the volley. "Sometimes, in order to disarm an opponent physically, you must disarm him psychologically first."

Oliver grumbled, irritated with himself and annoyed with Malcolm for being right. That was a lesson that he would not forget.

Then, Oliver's phone rang from inside his jacket pocket on the other side of the room. He recognized the tone, reserved for Quentin Lance and headed to answer the burner that was dedicated to Arrow communication. Merlyn watched, annoyed.

Oliver turned his back, attempting the appearance of privacy.

"Yes?"

"Hello. I'm just calling to ask if you have seen Felicity Smoak?"

"No," Oliver's adrenaline, already heightened from the fight, started boiling up. "What's going on?" he asked, his altered voice plummeting to a growl.

"I got a call from Ray Palmer. He's concerned. He found her car door open in the Palmer Tech parking garage. Seemed off. I told him I'd look into it. Thought maybe she might be with you."

"I'll find her." Oliver Queen hung up, his mind already racing with a thousand fears and plans for located the woman he loved. They were interrupted when Merlyn's stick suddenly made contact with Oliver's leg while his back was turned.

"God damn," Oliver protested as he whirled around. Merlyn's moves were more aggressive than ever and he was on the offensive.

Felicity had awoken early – at least she guessed it was early, in nearly empty room. Her pink dress stood out against the white Spartan walls. She was sprawled out under a wool blanket on clean new mattress that still had the tags on it. There was a lightbulb high overhead and a heavy metal door that was obviously secured from the other side. The most interesting feature was a black glass wall. She tried to break it, but it was made of some kind of Plexiglas and she was missing her heels, so she had nothing to break it with. Felicity's purse was missing too, which meant she could not access any tech to escape her current situation.

Sitting alone on the mattress, she felt fear, frustration and anger. Here she was, a damsel in distress, again. She didn't like being unable to affect her situation. How did she get here? Who had taken her? Her mind raced with the names of all of the villains who might have targeted her. But who would give her a blanket? Her questions were answered an hour later when the door squealed open.

Felicity's eyes narrowed and her ire boiled when her captor entered. "What the hell?!" she demanded in her loud voice.

Merlyn strolled in, Felicity's purse slung over his shoulder. He held out a large take out coffee and a big paper bag in one hand.

"Good morning, Kitten. Room service. With a smile." His teeth were quite perfect as he grinned at her warmly.

Felicity seethed. "What is this? Why am I here?"

Merlyn feigned disappointment and drew back his offerings. "Not even a 'hello?' I brought you breakfast. And have provided remarkably civilized accommodations. Also, knowing that a lady feels naked without her purse, I return it to you as a gesture of good will." Merlyn tossed it to her. "No phone, of course."

"Go to hell." She opened it up and found it contained her wallet, some tissues and a lipstick. She looked up with a glare.

"You're out of sorts until you have your coffee, aren't you? I suggest you enjoy this. It would be a waste to throw it in my face. I am accustomed to pain and it wouldn't even register." It was as if he had read her mind.

"By the way, some of my money has gone missing from a certain account. I suppose you wouldn't know anything about that?" Felicity pressed her lips together in silence. Merlyn nodded acknowledgement. The money she siphoned from his slush fund was apparently missed.

He set the coffee down in front of her and stepped back, then shoved his hand in the bag and retrieved a croissant. He took a lusty bite and placed the bag down next to the coffee. "Rest assured, this isn't a long term situation. I just need you for a bit of leverage today. Think of yourself as a bit cheese to motivate a reluctant mouse."

"What? I'm cheese?" an indignant tone colored her voice now. She grabbed her fuchsia lipstick, opened it and rushed him, only managing to swipe his hands with it. He gently shoved her back with a laugh.

"You are crazy, Malcolm Merlyn!"

"I didn't just try to attack an assassin with a lipstick. Did I, Kitten?" he said pointedly, wiping the pink stains now obvious on his fingers. "Every time we meet I get a little more insight into you. The woman he loves. The woman who loves him…" Felicity's face flushed with his words. Once again, he had crossed the line with a personal observation he had no right to speak aloud.

"Now, enjoy those croissants while they are hot. Delicious." He finished off his pastry and backed out to the doorway. "Oh, these walls are thick, as is the glass, so screaming would be a waste of effort. Do keep an eye out for a show in a little while," he winked at her and then the door swung closed with a heavy metal thunk.

He winked at her. Felicity screamed. She jumped on the bed like she was pouncing on Merlyn's head and boxed the air in frustration.

Eventually, she settled down. Her hunger and jangled nerves made her succumb to the repast and it pained her to admit momentarily that the croissants were excellent. Some time later, one of Merlyn's burly henchman escorted her to an institutional-looking powder room for a bathroom break. She was quickly taken back to the room, but not before noticing the door was secured with an old fashioned outside bar, rather than a lock that could be picked.

Several hours later, Felicity noticed a light switch on behind the glass. She walked to the window and looked down. Fifty feet below, Oliver and Malcolm Merlyn faced each other holding batons like ones she had seen Oliver train with in the Arrow Cave. Her heart leapt at the sight of her lo-…her friend. Not thinking, she pounded on the glass with her fists and hollered, but it was obvious what Merlyn had said earlier was true. They could not hear her down on the floor. Now she was really frustrated and her hands hurt. Still, she felt some reassurance seeing Oliver so close and in her mind Malcolm's cheese comment began to make sense.

She watched their exchanges with great interest. The two men seemed fairly matched, though Malcolm was obviously the aggressor. She saw Oliver hit Malcolm and cheered aloud. Then suddenly he was pummeled with a sudden series of hits and Malcolm looked smug. She recognized the look of irritation smoldering on Oliver's face. He had very nice stubble today, she thought. Then she cursed herself. Her situation was serious and that was a completely unserious observation. Still, her eyes drifted over Oliver as he moved with grace, back and arm muscles flexing as he met Malcolm's blows.

She was surprised when Oliver stopped and walked away from Merlyn. His opponent looked irritated as he strolled to the side of the room and brought his lit phone out and answered it. She saw Oliver's face change. His head dropped. At first she wondered what was happening, but it didn't take an MIT graduate to realize what his body language communicated. Troubling news.

Suddenly, Malcolm was rushing at Oliver while his back was turned. Felicity squealed. "Oliver, behind you!" but he couldn't hear her. He was literally blindsided. She watched Oliver recover and spin around to face Merlyn with a new anger in his eyes.

"We need to stop," Oliver panted.

"No." Malcolm rushed at his opponent, full force, swinging the stick toward Oliver's face. Oliver met the stick with his own.

"You don't understand. I have to leave."

"You cannot let the outside world distract you, Oliver. Ra's Al Ghul is an impossible foe." The two continued fight, much more heatedly than they had all morning. Oliver was unable to end it and walk away.

Merlyn was relentless in his attacks. Meanwhile, Oliver mentally wrestled with his predicament. Felicity was in trouble and Merlyn was keeping him from finding her. This had to stop. He ramped up his technique and took a more aggressive role, advancing on Merlyn with determination and ferocity. He needed to win this match, fast.

"I don't underestimate Ra's. He basically killed me once already. I take him very seriously. But I don't think he's impossible."

"Yes, he did kill you. So you must not let anything, anyone, be more important than your mission. More important than preparing for that mission." They continued to connect with their sticks meeting with loud clattering sounds. Oliver gave as good as he got as they moved around the floor.

"Nothing. Nothing should divert your attention from what is happening here and now, Oliver. Imagine that I am him. Impossible," Merlyn spat out the word. They were close now and their fighting was fast. Intense.

From above, the fight looked like an impressive blur now. The tension on the floor was so palpable now, Felicity had to consciously breathe from time to time.

Fighting close again, Oliver brought everything he knew, everything he had to bear. He sized up his opponent constantly, trying to assess his energy, his possible weaknesses. He remembered the blow he had dealt early on. Was it something he could capitalize on now. His eyes diverted a moment to Malcolm's wrist to see if the blood had continued to flow down, indicating a serious wound.

But it wasn't blood. Not red blood from a fresh wound. It was dark pink. Certainly not a natural color. It was more like…

Felicity with that damned pen in her mouth. Felicity biting her beautiful bottom lip. Felicity leaving a tantalizing print on the rim of a wine glass. The vivid memories were like a punch in the face. Then he found new energy and directed it at Malcolm Merlyn, full force.

"What have you done?"

Merlyn smirked and continued to fight.

"I did what needed to be done. Relationships. Distracting relationships. Love," he continued, "will be your undoing. You need to let go of it." Once it registered in Oliver's ears, he was done. Done sparring with his teacher.

Oliver spun with all his weight and made contact with Malcolm's stick with such force that the man dropped it. He swung away and made contact with Merlyn where he knew it was likely to do the most damage. Oliver didn't let up until his opponent was flat on the floor and he was looming over him, the stick pressed firmly against his trachea.

"What have you done to Felicity?" he demanded.

"She's alright. She's okay." His tone was convincing.

Oliver shook his head. "The thing you don't seem to understand is that I am not you. Caring about other people. Love." Oliver leaned in to growl slowly in Merlyn's ear. "It doesn't make me weak. IT. MAKES. ME. WANT. TO. WIN."

Merlyn looked deeply into Oliver's eyes and saw the truth in what he had just said. He nodded.

"I should kill you right now." He was serious and Malcolm Merlyn knew it.

"You don't want to do that. Not in front of her."

Oliver processed the statement and looked to him for more information. Merlyn tilted his head up to the second floor looking over them. Oliver followed his direction, but only saw windows. He quickly grabbed the sash from around Merlyn's waste. He punched him hard in the face, then turned him over and tied his wrists with the sash. Oliver left him there, grabbed his jacket and ran to find a staircase up to the second floor.

Felicity rested her forehead against the glass, relieved that Oliver had prevailed below. She was worried for a moment that she would see him murder Merlyn. And while she could understand why, she was proud that he did not. The inconvenient truth was that Malcolm Merlyn was currently a necessary evil. At least until the threat of Ra's Al Ghul was past.

Moments later, the door swung open. Felicity turned to see Oliver stepping inside.

Once Oliver laid eyes on Felicity the thoughts in his head - pleading and cursing all went silent. Just seeing her face changed everything. "Felicity."

Then something unexpected happened. Without a word, she launched herself toward him. Her arms encircled his neck and her body was against his like they were magnetized.

He was overwhelmed by the feel of her, so close. Her smooth cheek dragged across his rough jaw. Then, her lips were on his, warm and soft at first, but soon they became more desperate. Their tongues made contact and the sudden heat was incredible. He heard a primal groan but wasn't sure which one of them had made it. She tasted like coffee and butter, which was kind of phenomenal.

Oliver's left hand slid from Felicity's ribs to her back and he drew her closer. His other fingers roamed down to her waist, then to her hip bone and finally pressed the soft flesh of her bottom. God, it felt as nice as he imagined, all those times she walked away from him in those skirts. He opened his eyes briefly while changing angles on the kiss. Her eyes were still closed and she looked as lovely as he had ever seen her.

Oliver smiled and squeezed her butt. Her eyes opened. His face, so perfectly handsome was now just inches away and the realization of this incredible development blew her mind. He still held her flush against him. His greedy mouth went in for another kiss, different from the first. It was slow and deliberate this time. He was making up for many lost kisses since that one they shared in the hospital. Even if I never get to kiss this woman again, she won't forget this one.

Felicity felt her toes curling. Somehow she had underestimated his skill level in this area and a spontaneous emotional reaction was evolving quickly into something more intense. She wasn't complaining. This was by far the best rescue she had experienced so far. Oliver's mouth traveled down to her neck, where his warm breath created new excitement. Meanwhile, she finally touched his hair, then ran a finger along the edge of his ear and rubbed his ear lobe under her thumb and fingers. It was soft, like velvet. She wondered if his cock felt like that too.

Shaking. Oliver's face was still buried in her neck, but he was vibrating against her with laughter. Suddenly she realized what was happening and her face flushed a crimson color. She bit her lip and cursed to herself. Oliver enveloped her in his arms for a minute while he stopped chuckling. He kissed her cheek and pulled back to look into her eyes, all the while wearing a mischievous grin. He mouthed the words. I love you. She took a deep breath and felt her eyes welling up.

"Oliver, please take me away from here before I have to thank Malcolm Merlyn for kidnapping me." He nodded approval and grabbed her hand to pull her towards the door. She tugged away to retrieve her purse from the bed.

They emerged from the warehouse into bright light and fresh air. Felicity had found her shoes on the way out and was holding them in her hands. She pulled Oliver to a stop and held onto him while she put each one on. Next, they ran to his motorcycle. Oliver straddled it quickly and started it up. The engine grumbled low. Felicity studied the seating situation, then gamely hiked her skirt up to climb on behind him. He studied her bare knee and thigh with approving eyes and then his hand. She covered his hand with hers, and then wrapped her arms around him tightly. Oliver backed up and turned the bike toward the street. Together they rode out into sunshine.

Wow. That chapter kind of got away from me. It's got me wondering what can possible happen in the last chapter! Apologies for any mistakes. My spell check isn't working properly (it seems to be stuck on French...I don't know...maybe it thinks the story is too ooh la la now. LOL)

Once again, thank you so much for reading and for your kind comments. They mean so much.