A/N: You guys were pretty cool about the Laurel stuff, thanks for being gentle on me! I know Laurel can be an issue in the Olicity universe. You all are amazing and I adore you all and I hope you enjoy this chapter…I have a feeling you'll definitely enjoy this chapter ;)

I don't own Arrow or its characters.

xxx

He finds Laurel hunched over the bar, bleary eyed and half conscious.

"Ollie," she murmurs, throwing her arms around him. "I knew you'd come."

Laurel is all dead weight and he has to drag her to his car double parked on the street.

"I'm sorry," she slurs, collapsing into the passenger seat.

He can't bring himself to say anything back to her, so he doesn't.

Laurel tilts her seat back and curls on her side so she can watch him while he drives.

"I hate being in cars now," she says slowly, like her lips are numb. "I can't sit in the back anymore."

Oliver doesn't respond, thinking Felicity, Felicity, he left Felicity for this.

"Do you ever think about it?" she whispers. "That night?"

"Yeah," he says shortly. "Yeah, I think about it."

"I'd never seen anyone die before," she says forlornly. "I can't stop thinking about it."

"You shouldn't do that to yourself."

"Don't be a hypocrite, Ollie," she says drowsily.

"When was the last time you went to a meeting?"

"I hate those damn meetings."

"Laurel."

"You'd never sit through a meeting."

"They don't have meetings for people like me," he says tensely.

He's already been gone for almost half an hour.

Half an hour that he's not protecting Felicity.

"It wasn't your fault, Ollie."

"Don't, Laurel."

"He wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

His hands tighten on the wheel.

"Tommy loved you, Oliver. He wouldn't want you to torture yourself like this."

A muscle in his jaw twitches. "Don't talk to me about torture, Laurel."

He ends up having to carry Laurel up to her apartment. She finds her keys in her bag and he unlocks the door. Oliver carries her through the apartment and into her bedroom and deposits her on her bed.

"Ollie," she says softly, reaching towards him. "Ollie, I'm sorry about what I said that night."

"It's okay," he says. "Want me to take your shoes off for you?"

She gives him a sleepy smile. "Yes, please."

He bends down and slides her heels off for her, thinking forty minutes, he's been gone for forty minutes.

"I didn't mean it," she says. "You have to know I didn't mean it."

If you had stayed dead Tommy would still be alive!

"I know Laurel."

"I love you, Ollie."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Don't do this right now."

"I'm always going to love you."

"Laurel-"

"I know we're never going to be together again. I know you're not in love with me. But I need to know, Ollie," she pleads. "You still love me, right?"

He looks at her and feels what he always feels when he sees Laurel: guilt, anxiety, and shame.

But he also sees his first love, the first girl who ever believed in him, the girl who had wit and ambition and fire.

He bends down and kisses Laurel's forehead. "Get some sleep, okay?"

"Thank you, Ollie," she whispers, and then she's asleep.

He can't make himself wait for the elevator and runs down four flights of stairs and practically leaps into the Porsche.

Forty-six minutes, forty-six minutes.

He speeds back to the penthouse and bursts through the front door, shouting her name.

"Felicity?"

He walks through the foyer and into the open kitchen/living room looking around while his heart rate starts to climb.

She's not here.

She's not fucking here.

"Felicity!" he yells, heading for the guest bedroom.

She wouldn't leave. There's no way she would leave.

The light is on in the bedroom but Felicity's not here.

"Come on," he mutters to himself. "Where are you?"

Guest bathroom- no Felicity. Oliver halfheartedly checks under the bed, not surprised when there's nothing under there.

He's decided to check if she's hiding in his room-maybe she got scared because he was gone longer than she thought he'd be-when he notices that the closet door is cracked open.

Oliver carefully wraps two fingers around the edge of the door and pulls it upon slowly.

"Hi," Felicity says in a tiny voice. She's curled up in a ball on the floor, half hidden behind a suitcase.

"Hi," he says, crouching in front of her. "What are you doing in the closet?"

"I thought I heard a noise," she says. "And I got freaked out and I wanted to call you but I don't have a phone and I thought maybe I was just imagining it because I haven't been alone at all before now so maybe it was my head playing tricks on me? And then I got scared again so..."

"You hid in the closet."

"Yeah," she says, flushing. "And now I feel stupid, obviously."

"Hey," he says, holding one hand out to help her squeeze out of the closet. "You got scared. That's not stupid."

"How's Laurel?"

"She'll be fine, but she'll probably have one hell of hangover tomorrow. Serves her right."

Felicity sighs and leans into him, her face looking drawn and pale.

"I should have stayed here," Oliver says. "This is exactly what I didn't want to happen."

"You didn't want to find me in a closet?"

"I didn't want you to be scared."

"It's okay." Felicity slips her hand in his and squeezes. "I'm not scared anymore."

"You scared me," he says. "I didn't know where you were."

"Sorry," Felicity says softly. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Oliver looks down at her and tries to give her a smile, even though he's exhausted from dealing with Laurel and he's wracked with guilt about leaving Felicity alone.

"Oliver," Felicity whispers.

"Yeah?"

She looks up at him in a way that makes him want to give her the world. "Wanna have a sleepover?"

He lets out a choked laugh. "Yeah, Felicity. Let's have a sleepover."

They walk down the hallway and go into his room. Felicity crawls into his bed and Oliver yanks his henley over his head and steps out of his jeans.

When he turns around Felicity is staring at him, her cheeks a bright pink.

"Felicity," he says with a grin.

"What?" she yelps. "It's not my fault you look like that!"

He gives her a dimpled grin. "You like the way I look?"

Felicity groans and hides her head in a pillow.

"Felicity." He pounces on the bed and she shrieks when he pulls the pillow away.

"Hi," he says grinning.

"Hi," Felicity says, but she's not smiling. She actually looks kind of stunned.

He's got her pinned to the bed and Felicity's eyelashes flutter.

"Why were you hiding?" he asks softly.

Felicity reaches up and runs her fingertips over his chest. "You make me nervous."

"You said I didn't make you nervous."

"I didn't feel the way I feel now."

"How do you feel now?"

Felicity's tongue darts out to wet her lips and something in his stomach tightens.

"Like I want you to kiss me," Felicity says.

He bends down a tiny bit, so he's balanced on his forearms over her. "Really?" he inquires.

"Yeah," she breathes. "I know Sara said to stay away from you but-"

"She didn't tell me to stay away from you," Oliver says, and leans down and closes his mouth over hers.

Felicity softens instantly under him, one arm coming up to wrap around his neck and pull him to her.

He kisses her tenderly, coaxing the seam of her mouth with his tongue until she parts her lips. Their tongues touch and Felicity cries out softly, her hand tightening on his neck.

He breaks his lips from hers and turns to her neck, the long elegant white column of her throat.

"Oliver," Felicity sighs. "What happened to...taking it slow."

He pauses, his lips hovering over her skin, and Felicity squirms impatiently under him. Oliver grins.

"We can take it slow," he says, and watches Felicity huff in frustration.

"I don't want to take it that slow," she grumbles, and yanks his head up to kiss him.

"Okay," he says into her mouth. "You asked for it."

"What-"

Oliver flips them, so he's sitting against the headboard with Felicity straddling his lap.

"Oh," she says breathlessly. "Nice move."

He grins smugly. Felicity raises an eyebrow and whips her thin tee shirt off. She's wearing a purple polka dot print bra cupping creamy white breasts.

Oliver feels his smirk slide off his face.

"Are you just going to stare at me or what?" Felicity says teasingly.

Oliver's hands find her waist and he grips her tight, pulling her against him.

Felicity rolls her hips and they both moan.

"Kiss me," she pants.

He complies, bending down to capture her mouth while one hand slides up her back.

Felicity pulls her mouth away to kiss his jaw, making him growl and tighten his grip on her.

"Oliver?" she says breathlessly.

"Yeah?"

Soft skin, that golden hair, those sweet blue puppy dog eyes. How the hell is a girl so innocent-looking so fucking hot?

"I might have to revise what I said," Felicity whispers, and grazes his earlobe with her teeth.

"What-huh?" he says, unable to focus beyond the swirl of her tongue around the shell of his ear.

"About not falling in love with you."

Her hand grazes his abdomen and Oliver shivers. "I don't have a problem with that."

xxx

Oliver wakes up to a persistent ringing coming from his phone on the nightstand.

"What?" he groans into the phone. "What's wrong?"

"Freccia?" Sara yells. "Are you freaking kidding me, Queen?"

"Huh?" he mumbles sleepily.

"What the hell were you were thinking taking her out like that where anyone could see her! God Ollie, how dumb are you?"

"Sara, why are you yelling at me?"

Next to him Felicity rolls over and blinks at him through heavy lidded eyes.

"Go to the front page of the Starling Daily," Sara says. She sounds pissed.

Oliver reaches for his laptop and powers it on.

"Are you seriously mad at me because I took her out to dinner?" he says into the phone. "Who cares? You didn't say I couldn't take her anywhere."

"You got photographed at dinner!"

Oliver clicks on the Starling Daily homepage and when the page loads he scrolls down and there they are, outside Freccia.

Felicity is turned almost completely into him. The photographer only captured a sliver of her face, although his face is completely visible.

"What are you worried about?" he asks Sara. "You can barely see her."

"Dammit Ollie, we're not dealing with an amateur here!"

"You mean Felicity's dad?"

"Oh," Sara says quietly. "So she told you."

"Yeah."

"Is she...you guys okay?"

He looks over at Felicity, who's peeking over his shoulder to see what's on the laptop.

"Yeah, we're okay."

"Okay. Sorry I yelled at you. Just-be careful, okay?"

"I know Sara."

Sara sighs. "I'm coming back to Starling."

Oliver sits up a little more. "Why?"

"I have some intel that he might have left the state. I don't know Ollie, but I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Sara, how could he have even seen this photo? Why would he be monitoring things in Starling City? And even if he saw it, you can't really tell that it's her."

"He could have found out about her interview at QC. If he thinks Felicity is in Starling..."

"Then I just led him right to her."

"I'm not saying that. But I think you should lay low. Don't go out unless you have to."

"Okay. When are you getting here?"

"Tomorrow, hopefully early. We're leaving tonight, Nyssa's wrapping up some loose ends."

"Oh great, Nyssa's coming," he says dryly. "Can't wait."

"I like girls now, get over it Ollie. And stay put!"

Sara hangs up.

"What'd Sara say?" Felicity asks.

Oliver sighs and flops back down on the bed. "We're under house arrest."

xxx

A/N: You know the drill ;)