I had a severe case of arrow drabble fever it seems. I have it on good authority that it might be contagious, so beware...

I own nothing but my words and a lust for super heroes, violence and sexual chemistry. Sue me. No don't, really, I only own a crazy obsessive brain who won't shut up but everything else belongs to its rightful owner.

Just a silly little drabble to add to the many Oliver/Felicity stories. I rated this fic M, so I'd be free to use the word 'fuck' whenever I want. But it is safe to read at work, don't worry. Possible spoilers up to the latest episode.

If some of you are still following TOST, next chapter is coming, I'm not abandoning it, don't worry, and I'm still thinking about adding a few chapters to B,D&SM I'm just not sure it interests anyone so we'll see. I always appreciate feedback, wanna say something? Good, bad, or in between, I want to hear it.

Special thanks to those who followed, favorited and my (coincidentally) three reviewers : Madlenita, pia & nrdhrd3 .Thanks for reading.

-Third Time's A Charm, Pt. 2-

There was one thing Felicity Smoak never expected – well...besides being a vigilante sidekick of sorts, but who can ever prepare for that, right? - she couldn't phantom a day where her crazy billionaire extraordinaire would feel a tenth of the attraction she felt for him. Things like that did not happen to babbling, awkward IT specialists, especially not when they graduated top of their classes at MIT. It happened to beautiful, self assured, composed beauties like Miss Laurel Lance, first love of said billionaire playboy or even her sister Sara, on rainy days, as a stand-in for aforementioned love interest of one Queen Consolidated heir but that's it.

Yet, sometimes the unexpected happens, two people collide and their world finds a way to merge into one. Not often, admittedly, which made Felicity stick to a great rule that never failed her before, whenever men were concerned : do not get your hopes up.

She did not fully understand until Russia how wise that was. It seemed things were going great between them, both at QC and on the Arrow front. Except for a few bumps along the way, they were making progress. Oliver was slowly starting to open up with both her and Diggle, their team was stronger than ever, they were beginning to move on from their guilt after the quake in the Glades. Her favorite green hooded vigilante had even started to forgive himself for Tommy's death. He was willing to try another way with his crusade, attempt to be what this city really needed and what she surmised he really was right from the start, a hero.

The people of Starling City desperately needed someone to take a stand, to bring some balance into their corrupted lives. Justice needed to be served and Oliver Queen was just the man for it.

Hardened by five years on a hellish island, the man could never fear the city's elite, he had seen too much for that. They were but a bunch of corrupt cops, shady politicians and greedy one percent-ers. Nothing out of his league considering the things he had witnessed and done during his stint with the Bratva. Felicity could not help but wonder what else had happened to him during these years, ever since she heard the news on channel 7 about the return of the long lost Queen heir; she had been thinking about the hardships the man must have endured, back when she still thought he was but a very wealthy Robinson Crusoe with luck on his side.

Since then, her perception of luck morphed into a double-edged sword. She had also seen his scars.

His chest and back were lacerated with scarred tissue. Felicity would see them whenever Oliver would work out in the basement at Verdant, always shirtless as if she needed more incentive to lust after him.

She recognized some bullet holes, flogging and stabbing marks, yet the most prominent of them were certainly those she could not see.

Such torture would infringe a deeper mark than any scar upon his psyche. She expected it would not let his mind rest and supposed he would still have nightmares waking him up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat after reliving the excruciating torments of his stranded self.

Though he would probably never mention it to any one but Diggle, she was pretty sure Oliver suffered from PTSD as many war veterans did, and what had he gone through if not a war of his own?

No one came back from the dead as he did, after five years spent on an ex Chinese imprisonment island without some trauma to show for it. Of course, Oliver had a knack for acting and he frequently used his playboy persona to divert people from the truth of his past but she knew.

Beyond the twisted imagery her mind could conjure, she was never one to go blindfolded on a crazy path. As far as Mr Queen knew, she was none the wiser regarding his past involvement with the Solntsevskaya Bratva -or at least he probably thought she had been satisfied with the half answers she had received, the evading both he and Diggle had done when she started to get curious...

Ah, if they only knew, she thought.

Come on, she was nothing if not a computer genius, that was her element, and what holds a computer? Yes, besides a motherboard, a hard drive, usb ports and graphic cards. That was just a means to an end. Mechanical progress leading to power. The real question is where does the power lies. One word answer, eleven letters, the thing that fascinated her since her most tender age about computers, the very thing that drew her to them.

They hold information, therefore knowledge. Creating the world wide web changed the world. Suddenly every piece of information, every trace each of us left somewhere in whatever capacity you can think of, each little footprint we made in this world connected together in a pattern we would watch grow up, evolve until it became everything. There is practically nothing you can't find on the internet and sifting through information, decoding encrypted files, scanning the internet to his hidden depth, the one most people never had access to was her thing, the one single thing she excelled at. You better believe that after finding out a certain vigilante bleeding in her car and he proved to be none other than the Queen heir, she did her research.

Thoroughly.

Yes, that included backlogged encrypted conversations of various criminal organizations throughout the world, Bratva affiliates included. There was no fucking way, pardon her French, that she would go blind into anything. Felicity Smoak was never that kind of girl, the adventure prone, optimist, crazy blonde who got into crazy situations to get her blood pumping. Instead, she was the nice girl next door who never got into trouble into college -save for a night where she decided to let loose, have few drinks and party like a wild animal but let's just say that was a very short story, the ending of which proved that she was a very lightweight when Tequila, lemon and shots were involved...

Bottom line is the woman she had grown up into was much careful than her younger self, always calculating the probabilities of an action going wrong, analyzing the ripples it could produce, evaluating the results and so forth. Diggle got the full background check treatment first, but his record went just as far as she expected from an ex soldier. Spotless track record during his Army days, never been in trouble with the law before or after that, the man was clean as a whistle on the personal side as well and the only thing his phone bills showed was that he cared way too much about his deceased brother's wife but nothing more interesting.

Very much unlike Oliver.

She spent a week end on the case of Mr Oliver Queen. And boy was she not disappointed by what she found. Amongst useless trashy information tabloids were more than willing to procure, including but not limited to compromising pictures, assaults reports against paparazzi -which she double checked with the legal records- and some unpaid tickets that she expected when dealing with the idle rich and their need for crazy entertainment, she found faint traces about a foreign appointed Bratva captain.

Let it be said that for the most part, those Russian Mafia boys were careful, but even they were no match for a good algorithm providing the right cypher to decode their strange code. They were smart and never said too much, only letting her glimpse into Oliver's Russian period, just enough to let her know that body count of his had started much earlier than his latest arrowing in Starling City.

Yet she never let on to either of her boys that she knew. Oliver would tell her in his own words whenever he felt ready to share. And if he didn't, at least she knew enough to put her conscience at ease.

The first time Oliver gave her an inclination towards his feelings for her was the day after Russia.

"Because of the life that I lead...I just think that it's better to not...be with someone that I could really care about."

It was just after what she called the Russiangate in her head, when she knocked at his door to find out he had slept with Miss Rochev when said woman walked out his door. Hurt, disbelief, disappointment, you name it, she had felt it deep in her bones, sticking to her like a stench that would never go away, leaving a mark of its own. She was angry. That woman had all the markings of a backstabbing bitch waiting to sink her claws and suck the life out of everything she saw.

It made no sense whatsoever for him to pick her out of the millions of women Oliver could have slept with on that fateful day.

But hey, too bad, his dick obviously just had to choose this single one. The one that could discover the true purpose of their Russian escapade, the single female who could ruin them all in a snap of her fingers. Well women of this universe fear not, apparently Oliver Queen's cock did not discriminate. Hell, it would probably fuck everything in sight provided it was a warm blooded woman willing to open her legs for Junior.

God, what a massive fuck up. Bitterly, she thought back when the faint strings of hope had planted their seed in her mind, when he had some tender touches for her on occasion or when he would give her a true smile, rather than his usual fake smirk. Against her better instincts, she had to admit she had started to believe things were changing between them,albeit slowly but they were evolving nevertheless. Yeah, right. Should have known better, obviously. She would not abandon her boys and more importantly her babies hidden in the club's basement on the account of her imaginative mind and ever growing lust, no, what they were doing was important enough for her to bite her tongue, lock up her crazy feelings and move the fuck on.

The only thing she had perhaps underestimated was the lack of control she obviously held over her rampant feelings.

Moving on is never as easy as they say, never mind when you spend more time together than apart, at the office, in the basement...He looked the same while she felt a tiny bit crushed. She buried it under layers of self preservation and respect, but she still felt hurt by his asshole, playboy act.

The next time she sneaked a peak at his feelings, it was the look in Oliver's face when he came to rescue her from the Count's delirious crutches. He had killed for her, that night. The crazy drug enthusiast would never unleash such a dangerous drug on any city much less breathe again after his fall from QC building, his body obliterated by three green arrows. Now while she held no remorse over his demise, for the man was a psychotic delusional maniac, Felicity still felt guilty. For her favorite vigilante's broken promises to a dead brother he could not save, for the toll it took on his soul with each criminal life added to the balance of his body count, for all that she felt tremendous regret.

There were apologies, looks and hushed understanding between them but still, the guilt remained. She never wanted to be the one who caused him pain. He rested enough weight on his sole shoulders, those shadows sometimes overcasting his light, the one mark he persisted on inflicting to himself. The man would never forgive himself for many things, she knew it was part of what made him so great at what he did, his ever present conscience eating the last part of innocence away with every lethal arrow his bow would deliver.

She never thought it was easy for him, contrary to what he thought when he came back from his latest time on Lian Yu after the Undertaking. That's why she felt so guilty for her carelessness, because the price had been to high for him, despite his reinsurance, Felicity would never put him in that position again if she could help it.

After that terrifying night, Felicity felt a shift in their dynamic, thought it might mend the bridge caused by the awkwardness of her feelings, unspoken thoughts and refrained sentiments between them but it never came. They remained in limbo, both knowing what the other felt and trying as best as they could to put it aside and let it go. Then, came bright, young and awkward Barry Allen.

The assistant forensic hailing from Central City had seemed a safe bet for her. Sure, he was no Oliver, but that was good. Change was needed and Barry would do just fine to help her move on. Yeah, another one of her bright ideas. There was no stand-in possible for someone like her favorite CEO and his vigilante alter ego, not even when the scientist did save him and never told anyone about the Arrow's true identity. Her heart had its sight set on one delicious Mr Queen and it had no plans to content itself with the runner-up.

Oliver had seemed a bit jealous, but that could very well be her seeing what she really wanted to see, nothing more. And even if the man was truly jealous, a whole lot of good it would do her if he had no intention on doing anything about it. Besides, he was still too angry at her for divulging his secret.

Felicity sighed as she remembered his outburst, barely minutes after regaining conscience in the basement. He had turned to her, seething with fury and disbelief in his eyes. Those stormy blue eyes of his told her he felt betrayed by what he clearly viewed as carelessness on her part, as if saving his life had been a mistake considering the price to be paid.

She could still see him, when she closed her eyes, turn around to her still out of breath and half trying to get his bearing, shit, the way he had looked at her...That face, with his emotions plainly written on his face, ripe for her to notice and get the full effect of what betraying him felt like.

"You...You told him...Who I am..."

He had said to her then and it hurt her, so much, to do that to him; with all they had been through. She never regretted saving his life though. True, she had made a choice, a difficult one at that with so much hanging in the balance of their secrecy. Her life, his secrets, his lies, their trust, the police, the possibility of jail for all of them...In the end, when they had to make a choice, she chose to save him. And she would do it all over again in a heart beat. All of that meant nothing if he was dead.

After that, things got strained between them over again. She supposed Oliver still blamed her, probably still felt betrayed and things got rough for a while. Felicity had hoped he would forgive her transgression after a while, once some time had passed and he would realize she did the best she could given their circumstances. He had to see it was the only thing to do...

A day passed, then a week, two, and a month, but nothing happened. Their team suffered from it, with the Slade Wilson situation they had to deal with on the Arrow side and everything on the Queen Consolidated front, they were too busy for any heart to heart. Besides, since she had done the life saving - well not herself, but her choice did - she figured this time, the step should be his to take.

Yet neither the playboy/CEO wannabe nor the hooded vigilante would make a fucking step in the right direction. The last straw that broke her building frustration with him into a full blow anger happened a Monday morning.

Apparently while some of their team was working on their latest issues, some of them, and one particular someone had better things to do.

"Really Oliver? A red head this time?" She yelled as she threw the newspaper on his desk.

"What the-Felicity?"

She pointed towards the gossip section to her bewildered boss. In the middle was printed an enlarged, grainy picture of Oliver with a red head under his arm.

"I can't believe it...Do you have the slightest idea what I did last night, Mr Queen? Do you? Of course you don't...but I'm going to enlighten you..You...You...Pretty boy, playboy,CEO wannabe, arrow enthusiast slash maniac. I WAS HERE. Working my ass off last night, Oliver, searching for every little Intel on Slade Wilson. And for your information, after our all-nighter the day before, I was tired, ok? Exhausted if you really want to know. But I was still here, looking at it under every angle I could imagine...Now I know you're absolutely clueless about anything IT related...I'm not even sure you know how to play Angry Birds on your Phone so let's not talk about algorithms, Oliver. Algorithms. Do you even know what that is? And they search. For me. Well, for you actually, but...You know what I mean...It's not easy. I don't think you even know that. Do you think I just stare at my computers and look pretty, snap my fingers et voila? Argh...I wouldn't even be surprised...That's what you really think I do isn't it? And you...You were...Out...Having fun with a...a fuc-"

"Felicity"he interrupted, smirking at the fury she unleashed on him. His little tiger, clawing at him with all her might. Damn, she looked even better angry. He could just see himself throwing everything out of his desk to fuck her on it, but they had too much hanging on the balance for a quick, angry office fuck, no matter how much he wanted her right now. Things had been strained for a while between them. His intentions after Russia, to keep her at arms length for her own protection, were only reinforced by the Count when he held her hostage to get to him. He never hesitated a second before killing the man he had spared on their first encounter.

There was never any choice to make. He had said it after she thanked him and still believed it. Much like her attitude towards Barry and their ensuing argument when his life was put on the line, he would do anything in his power to protect her. Anything.

Let that death be a lesson to any criminal out there who thinks they can get him through her. No one would be safe from his wrath if she was harmed because of her affiliation to the Arrow. No one. He would kill them all to save her, without any hesitation. The day after would never matter, nor would the toll the death took on him, if she was safe. Felicity was too important for him to make a mistake. He could argue that was why he had fucked Rochev, to fuck Felicity out of his system, and it was true to an extent. He could be man enough to own up to his mistakes and that night he had wanted the company, no matter how shallow it was. Though there was his lust too, like every human being it happened, he got horny, combined with that pumped up feeling coursing through his veins before a fight, half pent up anxiety and half excitement, so yeah, he fucked her. It didn't mean anything. Oh, he knew he had hurt her. And she did too. Felicity was trouble for him. Feelings complicated everything, he knew that, yet he couldn't help himself when it came to his blond genius. She was too unexpected, she threw him off balance, a feeling he tended to hate after so many uncertain days in his past.

"No, let me finish-" she stopped his thoughts short, about to start on another one of her rants.

"It's not what you think" He loved to hear her babble endlessly but right now, angry as she was, they were less amusing. And Felicity didn't know she was getting herself worked up over nothing. That photo had been taken a year at least before the Gambit's shipwreck, the woman must have been his fuck of the night and again, that didn't matter. Oliver Queen was no saint, he had plenty of sex back in the day; hell even nowadays, he could get anyone he wanted but the funny thing was those women lost their appeal.

"Oliver, I'm not blind-"

So, when Felicity started again, he shut her up. Literally threw himself at her like some eager teen and kissed the hell out of her. Just to be able to squeeze a word in. A faulty plan he would later realize.

Yeah, once they kissed, that didn't happen for a while. Talking was definitely overrated when you get what you want. And down the line, when their children would get onto him, he'd bribe them to not call any attention upon his super hero tactic as they would dub it. Oliver Queen would enjoy shutting Felicity up for many years to come. And though she feigned ignorance, she knew exactly what her favorite bow wielding billionaire was up to...

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