Chapter Text
The blades made a heartless whistle as the spun in the air. The highway was empty, cars upturned, but all civilians evacuated. She had just lept onto a still upright SUV, her body coiled for the attack. The grime on her flack jacket became highlighted in the bright afternoon sun.
Oliver barely had time to react before she was hurtling towards him, her sai aimed directly for center mass. He rolled out of the way, but she was faster than he had ever imagined, and soon they were back to trading blows—Oliver using every tactic in his repertoire to remain wholly on the defensive. He would not—could not—go on the offensive.
He refused to look her in the eyes. Just the slightest glance of them when she had first come upon them had nearly broken him. Here she was alive. But her eyes… her eyes were no more alive than the cement beneath their feet. The woman that moved with him—matching him step for step in a way no opponent had before, not even Slade—this woman was a weapon. Iron forged in some hellish fire.
But it wasn’t a fire at all. It was water. Water as cool and temperate as the ocean in summer. Waters that were meant to heal her broken body.
Her breathing was only slightly ragged when she finally spoke as she swung blow after blow, narrowly missing him each time. “Fight me, Archer! Why. Won’t. You. Fight. BACK?!”
Oliver was finally able to rid her of one her sai, and tossing it to the side, he took a step back. “I won’t fight you, Felicity.”
She let out an almost inhuman roar as she charged towards him.
He continued to move backwards, trying to tap down any survival instinct to flip her away from him. When he took another step back, he once again raised his hands. “Your name is Felicity Megan Smoak.”
“SHUT UP!” She roared again, taking another swing.
“I’m not going to fight. You are the woman I love. And I will not fight you.” Oliver finally stopped and he finally looked her in the eyes. He sent out a silent prayer, that maybe, maybe, his words would get through to her.
His hope was in vain because she lunged at him, catching him around the waist and tackling him to the ground.
Although her voice was breathless, her words still carried their intended malice. “You’re my mission, Archer. And I will kill you.”
Blow after blow she delivered; Oliver could felt the throbbing pain, knew he was seconds away from losing consciousness, seconds more from death. When she paused slightly in her punches, he spoke one last time. “Then do it. But don’t let them tell you that I don’t love you.”
Her eyes widened and as the black cloud of unconsciousness closed in on him, Oliver looked into her eyes finally seeing what he had wanted to all along.
Love.