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Felicity Smoak was not an adventurous person – at least not in real life as she’d experienced too much uncertainty growing up in Vegas with a single-mother struggling raise her to seek out thrills as an adult – her novels were another story. Her writing had started as a fluke in college. She’d been stuck on a particularly troublesome section of code for one of her programming classes and no matter what she tried, the program just would not work the way she intended. In a fit of desperation – and a bit of snark – she took a break and decided to write how her least favorite TA would have addressed the problem. Writing his bumbling and infantile attempts made her laugh, which made her relax, and then the solution presented itself. The program ended up working exactly has she envisioned.
That’s how it started. Whenever she ran into a roadblock she would write. Soon just writing what she knew or could imagine wasn’t enough, so she’d research. If it was on the internet, she could find it. By the time she graduated MIT in 2009 and started at Merlyn Global she had three novels written and was working on fourth in her spare time, because stories she found were the other love of her life. As much as enjoyed technology, creating it and reading about it; she loved stories just as much, in all formats (books, comics, movies, television shows).
It had been a legal intern at Merlyn Global who’d befriended her and discovered her hobby that led her to writing professionally. Laurel Lance had just been biding her time at the company until the local legal office could offer her salaried position – a truly pathetic one – but her friend (and how that happened was still a mystery to Felicity) wanted to help people. Typically the ways the gorgeous brunette helped her were with girl-days to the spa (having her nails done had become a particular favorite and something she was grateful for the introduction to), shopping, and the occasional trip to a club. Felicity much preferred exploring the different restaurants in Starling City with Laurel, her sister Sara and Sara’s girlfriend Nyssa; but they often vetoed her wish for more quiet outings. However, when Laurel found her finishing up novel number four one morning when she came to drag her out to lunch instead of code, she weaseled the truth out of her. Laurel also managed to convince her to hand over a thumb-drive with one of her completed novels on it.
Apparently Laurel liked it, enough so, she slipped it to Sara, to give to one of her ex-boyfriends who worked for Simon & Schuster. His boss, Gloria, had flipped for the piece and the next thing Felicity knew she was being offered a book deal. That’s how she found herself writing full-time and taking on any freelance IT gigs that peaked her interest.
Being a famous author did not, however, impress her mother. Donna Smoak was a resilient and beautiful woman who Felicity loved dearly; but they were opposites in almost every way. Her mother complained that she spent too much time weaving fiction instead of living life. Donna believed in throwing herself into everything wholeheartedly. It often ended in tears, but her mother would say she lived the story instead of just reading it.
Of course that’s how her mother ended up in Colombia with husband number three in the middle of what Felicity wasn’t exactly sure. Willie was dead and apparently two questionably intelligent criminals – Kyle and Teddy Reston – took her mother hostage in hopes of recovering the map that Willie sent her.
So here she was, author and IT genius, whose biggest life adventure was attending MIT on a full-scholarship, on a crowded, death trap of a bus headed towards Cartagena.
---
Watching his money fly away Oliver cursed – his luck, his life, everything. He should have listened to his mother and become a cosmetic surgeon. He’d be sitting pretty on at least five hundred thousand a year and be up to his neck in tits and ass. Now that was a picturesque life. Instead he was stuck in Colombia, having been cut-off by his father, because living life from one mad-capped scheme to another was not something that Queens did. For a while it had been fun, his best friend Tommy had been by his side, funding their escapades until the threat of being cut-off himself sent him packing home to Starling City. Oliver had briefly considered going with, but missing his baby sister, was not enough for him to give up his nomadic lifestyle.
He regretted it now. He’d been searching for a big score. Something – anything – that could take him home in triumph because he refused to go as a failure; he would not fulfill his father’s words. He would amount to something on his own terms. Though the possibility of that happening anytime soon flew away with those damn birds he’d been hauling. He didn’t think his luck could get any worse until the admittedly adorable, blonde and a man with a gun stuck around after the rest of the passengers hurried off after the crash.
Oliver wasn’t a hero, rescuing damsels in distress was not his thing, but having been pulled into the fight he ended it. Now he just wanted to get away from the troublesome blonde. He growled at her when she continued to follow him, but that did not deter her. “Excuse me, mister. Can you tell where I can get to a telephone?” she asked in wavering voice.
In a huff he answered, “No, lady. I don't have any idea. I'm sorry.” He quickened his pace, hoping to shake her.
“But it's very important that I get to one,” she insisted.
Exasperated he stopped and turned back towards her. It was such an abrupt move that she nearly ran into him. Oliver started to reach out, to prevent her from falling, but she managed to steady herself. He dropped his hands, “Well, we've all got our problems today. Don't we?”
He was trying his best to be off-putting. He did not have the time to deal with her. No matter how frazzled she looked, or how bright her blue eyes shined. “Can you tell me where the nearest town is?” she inquired hopefully.
“English speaking? How about Miami?” he offered.
She ignored his glibness and asked, “Will there be another bus?”
“Another bus?” Oliver scoffed. “This,” he said looking back and forth down the deserted, dirt road, “is it. You've got rush hour.”
Her face fell and her shoulders began to tremble and he felt like a heel. Before he could go back on his approach to her, she stated, “I need to get to Cartagena.”
“Cartagena?” Oliver laughed. “Angel, you are hell and gone from Cartagena. Cartagena's over there on the coast.”
“But they told me this bus...” she protested.
“Who told you that? Who told you this bus was going to Cartagena?” he queried.
“That man...”
Oliver interrupted her, “That nice man who pulled a gun on you? What else did he tell you?” And did the blonde really believe everything anyone told her. She’d be such an easy target here. Could he really leave her on her own? Before he could give in the strange altruistic need to help her, he spun around and started walking again.
---
Rude. Arrogant. Thoughtless. Shoe ruiner. For goodness sakes they were Italian! Felicity kept mentally listing off all the lessor qualities of Oliver Queen, least she allow his pretty, stubbled face, piercing blue eyes, and well-muscled body distract her from the fact that she had to bribe him into helping her. Not that he was all that helpful.
Okay, so he’d gotten them away from soldiers, though she still thought Colonel Wilson’s men were after him for poaching and not her. He insisted otherwise, wisely pointing out the gun-toting man on the bus as his evidence. Felicity hoped that wasn’t the case. Having to deal with the Restons was bad enough; she didn’t need Columbian soldiers after her as well.
It had to be the map. What was so special about it? she wondered. Felicity briefly considered asking Oliver if he had a clue. He obviously knew his way around the country so he might have an idea. His less than chivalrous behavior made her think he’d be more likely to steal it and run off instead of getting her to the nearest town and a phone. She needed the map to get her mother back, which meant she couldn’t trust the rouge who was leading her through the forest with it.
It didn’t matter how safe his arms felt after being chased by soldiers or how he looked as he lifted his head from between her legs after they slid down a massive and muddy hillside. Felicity felt her cheeks go pink at the memory, and the color deepened as she thought about Oliver’s charming smile when he teased her about the plane full of marijuana they found. His joke about the prison stay had been wittier than she given him credit for; but she reminded herself, yet again, that he was not a trustworthy hero out one of her books.
Ascetically he was something to look at, but from their first meeting it had been clear that he was only interested in helping himself. She wouldn’t let the booze and narcotics they were sharing convince her otherwise.
“You’re a writer?” he inquired, his eyebrow quirked bringing her back into the conversation they’d been having.
“And an IT expert,” she replied proudly.
“So you write technical manuals?”
Apparently the alcohol and illegal drugs she had imbibed had slowed her normally fast thinking processes down because it took Felicity a few moments to comprehend his question. “No,” she exclaimed indigently, waving her arms about. “Why would you think that?”
Oliver shrugged is broad shoulders, “What else would a self-proclaimed IT genius write about?”
“Romance,” she countered quickly. His azure eyes narrowed on her through the haze of smoke that filled the plane. The orange and yellow hues of fire light played off his tan skin, of which there was a lot showing, since they hung all but their undergarments up to dry. Felicity had been grateful that the pouring rain had cleaned off most of the mud from her body up until this moment. In only her bra, panties, and the cargo jacket Oliver removed from the doomed pilot she felt too exposed. Even with the heat from the fire she felt goosebumps rising on her flesh.
“I could tell you a few tales,” his voice was low and throaty. It almost sounded like he was inviting her to experience his expertise firsthand or was that her under-the-influence brain inferring it?
“I know you could. I mean, I know of some of your exploits,” seeing his face fall and watching him put distance between them without actually moving, Felicity hurriedly continued, “not that I care or looked into them. Well I did, not just intentionally,” she clarified because she didn’t want Oliver to think she was the kind of person who was obsessed with celebrity gossip. “What I mean is I researched Queen Consolidated – not for my writing, but back before when I was still focusing on IT. I wanted to move to Starling City because it’s close to Vegas, but not you know that close. Meaning I could use work as a perfectly acceptable reason not to visit my mother outside of major holidays. Not Christmas though because we’re Jewish. So I looked into QC and Merlyn Global, which is where I ended up working as they offered a more accelerated advancement plan, and well, I caught some of the headlines and I maybe even read a story or two, but I swear that’s it – and why I telling you this? I really need to stop talking. Why am I still talking? I’m going to stop in three, two, one.” Felicity closed her eyes and took a deep breathe because she managed to ramble all of that out without stopping to take one. Her brain really had the worst way of saying things.
Her goosebumps were gone and she was braced for, she wasn’t exactly sure what; but then she heard a slight chuckle. Opening her eyes she focused her starting to blur gaze, which she hoped had more to do with wearing her contacts too long than anything else, on Oliver. There was a quirk to his lips, a slight smile that had her smiling back at him in return.
“That was impressive.”
“What was?” she asked, thinking back over her multitude of embarrassing words. The only impressive thing about them was the sheer number she managed to word vomit at him.
“Your lung capacity,” he answered in a teasing tone, his eyes a light with humor. “You never know, in this godforsaken country, it could come in handy.”
---
Oliver studied the sleeping woman across the plane from him as he lounged against a stack of contraband. There was something about Felicity Smoak. She was unexpected in so many ways. She was clearly intelligent – book smart vs. his life learned approached – but still so naive about certain things, and the fact that one of those things was him, was not sitting too well with him. Things had leveled out between them after her epic and oddly endearing babble, and she’d quickly fallen asleep, trusting that he’d still be there in the morning. And he planned to be; even after finding the map, Oliver knew he could not leave her stranded in the middle of nowhere on her own. He wasn’t that much of a cad, but he did intend to get the map from her.
He knew taking it outright was not an option, not with gun toting criminals involved. If he left Felicity without the map and they found her there was no telling what kind of trouble could befall her. He needed to find a way to copy it since he didn’t think memorizing it was an option. Hopefully, whatever town they managed to find would be at least up-to-date with 80s technology; though he knew they’d be lucky to get running water and electricity.
Felicity muttered something in her sleep; it sounded vaguely like a string of ones and zeros, and Oliver couldn’t help but be charmed by the idea of her programming in her sleep. The low light of the dying fire made her pale skin glow. He hadn’t been able to appreciate her pretty looks; in fact, he hadn’t really taken them in beyond a cursory glance because noticing anything about her would only to lead to trouble. He’d called that right at least.
Of course seeing her wet and dirty, looking indignant and scandalized as he lifted his head from the puddle they landed in had his body reacting even before taking in her creamy, mud speckled thighs. His brain had nearly short-circuited as he pictured that soft flesh clean with his mouth headed towards her core. Thankfully, she’d jerked away from him and he managed to shake the image from his mind and force himself to focus on the problem at hand. Namely their pursuers and getting the two of them as far away from the soldiers as he could.
Finding a dry place to sleep, had Oliver hoping that his luck was changing. They managed to dry off and with the aid of Felicity’s babble he’d been able to stop himself from acting on his more lecherous thoughts. He was not that guy anymore. At least he was trying not to be, and yeah, kind of stealing Felicity’s map wasn’t exactly the way to go about proving that to himself. He knew that, but he had to find a way to make it back to Starling without turning to Tommy or worse yet his family. He knew his mother or sister would send him the money no questions asked, but going back penniless and without something to show for his time away except for some droll tales and few not so amusing scars was not an option.
He couldn’t let a pair of luminous blue eyes, some bitable lips, and brilliant and eccentric mind soften him. He’d been trying too long and too hard to make something of himself, so he wouldn’t have to go back hat in hand to this father.
Find a town, copy the map, send Felicity safely on her way, and then find whatever treasure there was and sell it – hopefully for a ridiculous amount of money – and return to Starling not needing his family’s money. He’d reconnect with Thea and his mother, perhaps talk Tommy into their long dreamed of business partnership, and who knew maybe then he and his father could manage to reconcile. If that impossibility could happen, perhaps he could even meet Felicity again, on a more even footing when had more to offer her than half-truths and dubious intentions.
If he hadn’t been so exhausted Oliver might have been concerned over the fact that he was even considering the possibility of Felicity in his future and that the thought of it had a smile tugging at his lips. Instead, his chin dropped to his chest as sleep overtook him.
---
Civilization had never looked so good to Felicity; of course, she never thought she’d define a town that did not have Wi-Fi let alone internet access as civilization. Beggars could not be chooser though and considering the first – it wasn’t even a town … more of a hacienda, owned by the drug lord whose wrecked plane they’ve spent the night in. Felicity hadn’t been sure what to make of the wiry man with over the top facial gestures that just so happened to be a huge fan of her work. He insisted she call him Count Vertigo. What kind of person did that? Of course he managed to inspire the most amusing look she’d seen to date on Oliver’s face.
Oliver had off-handedly challenged her to “Write us out this one Felicity Smoak,” as the Count’s armed goons closed in on them. The next thing she knew, the drug lord’s elated voice exclaimed, “Felicity Smoak! Felicity Smoak? The Felicity Smoak!” After she confirmed that she was his favorite author the Count had been nothing but hospitable and, well, flirty. Not that he could offer her a phone or Wi-Fi, but he had helped them escape when Colonel Wilson and his men showed up – even if Lupe’s escape otherwise known as a flying leap over a river in a jeep older than her was an experience she could have happily live without – Felicity couldn’t help but be grateful to man.
After all he dropped them off in a town that had electricity and phone service, allowing her to call Kyle Reston and explain the bus mix up, and miracle of miracles the town had bus service. Granted she’d have to wait until the next day, but there would be a bus – one that would get her to Cartagena by the evening – meaning by nine tomorrow night she would be able to make the exchange and get her mother back. Plus, there was a hotel with running water. Lukewarm water, but she could shower and get clean clothes, and sleep in an actual bed.
On top of it all, Oliver had agreed to stick around and get her off on the proper bus. Logically, Felicity knew trusting and relying on Oliver Queen made no sense. What she knew of his past through gossip columns and what she experienced first-hand told her that; however, he kept her safe and kept his word about getting her to a town. She had no idea if those soldiers were actually after her or him, and who knew if Reston had another henchman out there. Knowing that Oliver was nearby, that she wasn’t alone in a place where no one cared about her made Felicity feel better.
It might be foolhardy to trust him – as it most definitely was to crush on him – but she was in the mist of her own real life adventure. She’d probably never have another chance to indulge in such recklessness again so Felicity decided to embrace it.
When a knock sound on the hotel room door, she hurried over and checked the peephole – she might be foolhardy but she was not stupid, before throwing it open with a welcoming smile on her face. “You clean up good,” she said in greeting to Oliver.
“So do you,” he replied, his gaze slowing trailing down her body and back up. By the time their eyes met her cheeks were flushed and she was biting her lower lip.
She watched as he shuffled his feet, almost nervously, which didn’t make any sense to Felicity. If armed gunmen didn’t faze him she was surprised anything did. He pulled his hands out from behind his back, something she hadn’t taken notice of as she’d been taking in how good relaxed looked on is handsome face. “I got this for you,” he said holding out a sliver chain with a charm on it.
Noticing that it was a heart, she was tempted to tease him by questioning his choice of charm with an el corazon – a reference to the treasure map tucked safely way. Somehow, he’d gotten her to fess up to the truth of her mother’s kidnapping and the reason behind it on their way from the plane. Since they were in the right province he’d suggested going for the treasure, arguing that having it would give her more leverage in getting her mother back. Felicity could tell that Oliver wanted the treasure for less altruistic purposes, but he’s also proven that he wanted to keep her safe. So instead of teasing him she whispered, “It’s lovely.”
Their fingers brushed as she reached to take the necklace from him and Felicity felt the spark through her entire body. She noticed Oliver tense and wondered if he felt it too, but he stepped back from her quickly and asked, “Ready for dinner?” Just her than, she thought, except when his gaze met hers again as she popped a “Yep,” his eyes were wide and dark. The goosebumps were back, but since Oliver seemed intent on ignoring the zing, Felicity decided to do the same. She quickly clasped the gift around her neck before stepping out into the hallway to join him.
---
Dinner was a mistake. Food allowed him to narrow in on her mouth and that was dangerous, Felicity’s pink lips looked too damn kissable. When he heard the music, Oliver thought he found an escape; they could walk closer to listen to it. Standing side-by-side, where he’d only be able to view her profile had to be safer. Perhaps it would have been if they hadn’t gotten swept up into the dancing crowd. He always said he didn’t dance, but that line was usually reserved to shake undesirables at clubs; the truth was he did dance as means of foreplay.
Dancing with Felicity was very much foreplay. Watching her move, feeling her brush up against his body had every nerve-ending flaring. The heat from the crowd, the pulsing of the music, and dreamy quality of twinkling lights only added to the moment. He could feel the need growing inside him. He wanted to claim her lips and fist his hands on her hips, draw her close so that their bodies were touching everywhere they could as they moved together.
The map he still had to return to her bag was the last thing on his mind. If he was a better man, it would be the only thing. His plan had been to charm Felicity with the necklace, make her comfortable enough to indulge in a little too much to drink, leaving him to escort her back to her room. He’d be able to tuck her in and return the map to her none the wiser now that he had his copy.
Oliver knew that if he kissed her it wouldn’t stop there, unless Felicity said otherwise, and with the way she was looking at him through hooded eyes he didn’t think there would be an otherwise. He’d already taken advantaged of her – he used the money he she paid him to buy the gift he’d given her, he’d taken the map while she’d been showering, and she was footing the bill for their hotel and dinner.
He wanted her, but Oliver knew he didn’t deserve to have her. His fingernails bit into his palms as she hedged closer to him, her breasts just gliding across his chest before the rhythm of the dance moved her away from him again. For the first time in years, he felt well and truly alive, and it was because of the captivating woman in front of him. It was more than just want that fueled his desire. Somewhere between the deserted road and Felicity opening her hotel room door to him with such an open smile, he’d come to care about her.
Oliver knew it wasn’t just a physical connection he craved, but he an emotional one. He wanted Felicity to reciprocate his feelings, as murky and unclear as they were to him.
When her hand brushed his wrist, drawing his hand to her hip, Oliver threw his recriminations away. He could find a way to make it up to her, in fact, he promised himself he would as his lips crashed down onto hers.
---
There had been many moments during this trip Felicity found distasteful. Lying in bed surround by Oliver Queen was not one of them. Honestly, it was probably one of the best moments of her life. Her body was lax from their activities – just remembering them had her flushing – even while her mind spun with possibilities about what this meant, if any of it were real, if it even mattered if it wasn’t. She was happy, for the first time in years. Maybe her mother had been right about living life. It was time to take a risk and she couldn’t think of a better one than Oliver Queen.
“Why haven’t you taken the map from me?” She felt Oliver tense over her. He took a deep breath and she felt his scruff scrape her sternum as he lifted his head. His blue eyes were troubled as they met hers.
“What?”
She shrugged and ignored the sensation of their naked bodies moving against each other. “I saw the Devil’s Fork on the way into town. We’re close.”
“So?” The carefully said syllable caused Felicity to let out a huff of frustration, “Did you or did you not say something about leverage?”
“Fe-lic-ity.” Admittedly the way he drew out her name out like that did things to her, but she wasn’t going to back down from this. “Did you mean it?” she asked. “Do you think having whatever that map leads to will put me in a better bargaining position?”
He answered without hesitation, “Yes.”
“Then let’s do it.” She could hear the determination in her voice, but she could see Oliver hesitating. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“If it comes down to my mother or the treasure—”
“It’s your mother. There is no other choice to make in that case,” he said.
She beamed up at him, and he returned her smile with one of his own, the first one she ever saw that reached his eyes. “So we’re treasure hunting tomorrow?”
A chuckled rumbled out from him. “That we are,” he confirmed before once again kissing her senseless.
---
“You did this on purpose,” Felicity shouted at him across the river.
“We just went over a waterfall! How could I plan that?” he countered back. There was no way to know that the car they'd stolen had a sleeping Teddy Reston in the back or that Wilson’s men were hot on their heels. If he could have predicted that turn of events he would have seen Felicity safely on the bus to Cartagena.
Obviously the words Teddy threw out after having caught them off guard with a heart-shaped emerald bigger than his fist in his hand, accusing him of trying to romance the stone from her had gotten to Felicity. Yes, he intended to keep the gem if at all possible, but he meant what he told Felicity last night. If came down to a choice between making sure she got her mother back and keeping the jewel, he’d see to that she’d get Donna.
She didn’t have a ready answer him; instead she sent him a hard glare from across the rushing water. Holding back a groan, he asked, “What’s the name of the hotel in Cartagena?”
“Hotel Cartagena,” she hollered back. “What do you care?”
“All right, you just head towards the sunset and you’ll get there.” It looked like Felicity was going to respond to his directions when they heard the shouting of Wilson’s men, followed quickly by gunfire. “I’ll be there,” he swore.
“What?” he heard her call out across the clamor and chaos.
“I’ll be there,” he roared out as he ducked for cover. He watched as Felicity waved her arms, he wasn’t sure what the gesture meant or if she heard his vow; but their pursuers were getting closer. As he backed up further into the dense forest he continued to watch her until he couldn’t make out even a hint of her frame in the dense foliage across the river.
Oliver told himself that she’d be okay. She would get to Cartagena safe and sound. That he would see her again, if only so the last look he’d share with her wouldn’t be one of hurt and distrust.
---
She checked with the front desk at least five times before leaving as directed for the fort nestled in the bay, but Oliver hadn’t checked in. Felicity still had the map, and if luck was on her side Kyle would have no idea that the treasure it led to was no longer awaiting him to find it. Her luck so far had not been great. She’d been chased by criminals and corrupt soldiers, swung across a ravine, nearly drowned in a mudslide, been befriended by a drug dealer, dodged too many bullets to count, found and lost a treasure, and been left at the side of a waterfall – after going over it – by a con man. There was a maybe attached to that last one.
Felicity could have sworn that she heard Oliver promise to meet her in Cartagena. Even as she rode the boat over to the fort by herself, she continued to hope that he would show up. Steeling herself as she exited the water taxi, she decided to believe that he was out there, watching her back. It made her feel braver as she walked into the dank, crumbling fort.
“That’s far enough,” a voice from the shadows called out. Felicity came to an abrupt stop. She squinted into dark looking for the man who’d spoken and her mother. “Show me the map.”
“Not until I see my mother,” she countered. Though a slight shiver ran through her body, her voice did not waver.
“Keep still,” she was warned. Felicity heard a feminine groan before she saw her mother and the man gripping her arm step into the light. They continued forward, with a couple of armed men behind them, until they were only a few feet from her. “Here she is, unharmed and all yours once you hand over the map.”
Kyle Reston was dark haired and had a build similar to Oliver’s though it wasn’t nearly has defined. His eyes shimmered with greed and excitement, but she could tell by his ever tightening hold on her mother that he would do violence upon them if he felt it was necessary. “I’m waiting,” he growled.
“Right, sorry,” she muttered and dug into her bag for the map. She pulled it out and offered her mother a reassuring smile. “I have it. It’s all yours,” she promised and flicked it towards him. Reston released her mother and made a grab for the map. As he did so, Donna ran forward into her open arms. “Mom,” Felicity breathed almost reverently. She was so grateful to have her mostly safe again. Donna tucked her face into the crook of her neck and whimpered. “I knew you’d come baby.” They clung to each other for a moment, their golden hair glistening in the moon light, seeking comfort.
“Felicity Smoak.” Both she and her mother tensed at Reston’s words. “You and your mother are…” he paused and flashed them a crocodile grin, “free to leave.”
Sighing in relief Felicity started to lead her out of the fort. “Not so fast,” a harsh voice ordered. In the next moment armed soldiers lined the high walls of the fort. From another patch of dark shadows Teddy Reston was thrown, hands bound, to the floor. Following him was Oliver, who offered her a “Hi honey” greeting. Felicity instinctively started to shift towards him, but he shook his head, and it was then that she noticed the rifle at his back. The man holding it was none other than Slade Wilson.
“I had it Kyle. In my hands,” Teddy groaned as he shuffled up to his knees.
“That map is useless,” Wilson declared. “I want the stone Miss. Smoak. Now,” he said with a thrust of the rifle into Oliver’s ribs.
“I don’t have it,” she replied, enunciating each word slowly to give herself more time to figure out how to play the situation.
“Don’t toy with me.” Wilson’s voice was deep and lethal. “You won’t like the consequences,” he warned as he stepped out from behind Oliver. “Where is it?” he demanded.
Felicity knew that handing over the gem to Wilson would do them no good. A man like him, especially after the trouble they’d caused, was going to kill them whether or not she cooperated. She looked to Oliver, hoping for a sign as to how to answer the Colonel. Wilson must have been tired of waiting for her to respond because the next thing Felicity knew he was using the butt-end of his rifle to slam into Oliver’s groin.
Oliver winced and leaned over, but not in the amount of pain anyone expected. “Oh well,” he huffed and shook his hips. Felicity watched wide-eyed as a bulge slid down left leg. The emerald peeked out of the bottom his pants and came to rest and sparkle on his booted foot. With all eyes on the stone he barked out, “I hope you choke on it,” before kicking the stone towards one of the crocodile filled pits. Wilson’s hand snapped out and grabbed it before stone could fall into the murky depths. “Nice try kid,” he chuckled before letting out a blood curdling scream as one of the scaly beasts bit down on his out-stretched arm.
Felicity watched, her stomach turning, as the hand fisting the stone was snapped off into the animal’s mouth. She lost focus on the commotion happening around her – she could make out the sound of gunfire and was cognizant of Oliver pulling her and mother away from the battling forces. “You okay?” he asked, tucking them into an alcove.
She wasn’t sure if she responded or not. Felicity felt his hand on her cheek, heard him tell her that he’d be right back and watched stupefied as he chased after the crocodile that had just had el corazon for dinner. The sound of gunfire got closer, prompting her mother to pull them from the alcove and up some steps to get away from it. Felicity followed mutely. She felt like a rag-doll ready to be led anywhere until Wilson knocked into them.
With her mother laying injured on the ground and Oliver nowhere in sight, she snapped out of her funk. She could handle this, she told herself. This adventure had proven she was a capable of things she never even thought possible. Facing off with a man using a board with a rusty nail as a weapon was just another outlandish task for her to take on.
The fight ended up being like something out of one her novels. She surprised him with a hidden knife but it hadn’t worked to her advantaged. Instead it had given him a better weapon to attack her with, calling out for Oliver; she wrestled with Wilson and managed to wiggle away from him. She hadn’t been fast enough to out run him, but as they tumbled to the ground he lost the knife.
Wilson had the advantaged in strength, but she was smarter than him and he was handicapped with his injury. The saying mother was the invention of necessity popped into Felicity’s mind as she eyed the lit cigar in Wilson’s mouth. How he managed to have it still clamped between his teeth she didn’t know, but she was grateful it was there. She kneed him and as he groaned she pulled the cigar from his mouth and plunged it into his eye. He screeched in fury and rolled off her and right onto the rotting wood grate of another pit. The wood creaked and then broke under his weight and he fell into the occupied pit below.
Felicity turned from the sight and sounds of the crocks snapping at the Colonel. She was breathing heavily and biting back a whimper. Suddenly Oliver appeared, jumping up over the side of the fort wall. They ran to each, and as his hands rubbed her back soothingly, she clutched at his. The tears she’d been holding back began to fall.
“Felicity,” her mother croaked from behind her. She rubbed her cheek against Oliver’s chest, soaking in the comfort and safety his arms offered, gathering herself. When she pulled back from him, her eyes were wet but the tears had stopped. After they shared an all too brief and loaded look, she hurried to her mother’s side and plopped down on her knees to cradle her in her arms.
There were hushed words between them as the sound of sirens filled the air. She noticed Oliver hunching beside her. “Get to the consulate,” he ordered. “Talk to John Diggle. Tell him everything; just leave my name out of it. I’ve got a bit of history with the Columbian authorities.” He pressed a chaste, but meaningful kiss to her temple before charging towards the edge of fort’s wall.
“You’re leaving me?” she cried out. Felicity jumped from where she’d been cradling her mother on the ground. Donna let out a moan as she landed roughly on the stone.
“You’re going to be all right Felicity Smoak,” he told her as she raced towards him. “You always were.” Those were his last words to her before diving off the fort wall and into the water below.
“Oliver Queen,” she called out, searching for him in the dark bay waters …
“It’s your best novel by far. Look at me I’m weeping.” Gloria’s words brought Felicity out of her memory of the last time she saw Oliver. “It’s official,” her editor declared wiping her nose with a tissue, “you’re now a world class hopeless romantic.”
“Hopeful,” Felicity corrected, rubbing the charm on necklace Oliver had given her. “Hopeful romantic.”
---
He took a moment to enjoy the view. Starling City, his home, was alive with the sounds of people going about their day. The sunlight bounced off the windows making the whole city glow. Still she was the brightest thing he saw. Her dark purple coat made her standout in the crowd. Oliver watched as she smiled in greeting to the people she passed on the street as she carried a bag of groceries towards her apartment building.
He could still remember the cold fear that had seized him when he heard Felicity call out for him in a panic. Seeing her run from a knife welding Wilson had nearly stopped his heart. He’s released the crocodile with his ticket back to Starling without a second thought or regret. He wouldn’t want any of it if Felicity wasn’t there with him.
During his race to play the hero, Felicity had managed to save herself, but he knew as he held her that he wouldn’t have made a difference choice. Making sure she was safe was more important than anything else, but watching her with her mother, he also knew he had to make himself worthy of her.
Not that money could do that. In fact, Oliver was certain Felicity would have laughed him out her life if that’s what he planned on offering her. No, he needed the money to come home on his own terms. He had to prove to himself that he worthy of her. And he had. He’d quietly returned to Starling a few days ago. He said what he needed to his father – their relationship may never be what he wanted – but he had the ability now to live without his money. He’d never be under his father’s thumb again and that was a freedom he’d needed to feel his whole life.
He was starting to make up for his radio silence to his mother, sister and Tommy. And with the club Tommy had already agreed to open with him, Oliver hoped to show not only his father but all of Starling that he was capable of building something and not just being fodder for the gossip pages.
The only thing missing was Felicity. She was the most important piece to the future he saw for himself. His nerves had kept him from coming to her sooner. He wanted everything else in place, so he could show her that he was serious about being in Starling and even more serious about being with her.
If the look in her eyes the last time he saw her was what he thought it was – love – he had nothing to worry about. Still he felt his heart-racing as she neared, her blonde head down as she shuffled through the keys on her ring.
“Could I interest you in a pair of crocodile boots?” he asked playfully stepping into stride next to her.
Felicity stopped. The bag and keys fell from her hands as her head shot up. “Oliver.” Her voice was husky, her eyes widening in joy, and they seemed to move together. Her hands were on his shoulders, as his found her hips and pulled her up so their lips could meet. Their tongues tangled as they pulled themselves closer together. He could feel the rapid beating of her heart as the kiss deepened and felt his fall into rhythm with hers.
When air became a necessity they finally pulled apart, but not far. He rested his brow on hers. Because words were beyond him, Oliver simply said, “Hi.”
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she replied gazing up at him lovingly. He couldn’t express the relief or joy he felt, let alone the amount of love he had in his heart for her, so instead of fumbling over the words, he kissed her again.