A/N: Hola, peeps, I'm back! Ringing in a New Year with the first chapter of my next story. Hank is still unconscious from his choice of ringing in the New Year. He went on a bender for the ages. A LOT of things have been defiled in an alcoholic haze. In a related note, I now need a new toaster, tub of butter and my Elsa doll needs a lot of councilling… and I mean a lot. It might be easy singing about 'Let It Go' but it's a lot harder when you've been Hanked… and have the wildly inappropriate tattoos to remind you of the whole sorry night of debauchery. Fernando Del Vecchio didn't fare much better. You wouldn't think you could fit an entire llama into your standard household microwave, but apparently you can. Thank heavens the door wouldn't shut though. Don't like to think how that could have ended if Hank had managed it… not well, that's how.

My New Years was far more sedate, just putting out the fires, stopping inappropriate things being flushed down my loo, fending off the drunken wombats Hank had invited to an impromptu party in the backyard. I tell you, wombats are mean drunks, just sayin'. But apart from dealing with the occasional bouts of arsenry, larceny and archery, as I said, my New Years was pretty uneventful. Hope yours involved a lot less of batting out an on fire wombat who has been hit by a flamming arrow in a drunken match of 'Pin the Flamming Arrow on the Wombat'. I should have really been a wake up to the dangerous nature of that game… I think the clue was in the name, now that I think about it.

And now, onto the story. As always, I'm going to have to stop anyone who is a first timer to an Aunty Lou Arrow story and place a velvet rope against going any further. I mean, you can read on obviously… after all, it's only a velvet rope, those things have no integrity whatsoever… however, you maybe a little confused as to where we are, how we got there, and why there are so many references to crotches in my story… or maybe not… maybe you're all about the crotches… no judgement here… you go with your good self.

But honestly, it will help you a great deal to go back and start at the beginning of this series, starting with 'Secret Women's Business', followed by 'Love Potion No. 9', then a little foray into 'A Halloween Anthology' and finally, you'll arrive at this fic, fully pumped and primed (just like my Elsa doll post date night with Hank.. and you'll also find out who Hank is… that may or may not be a good thing) for this new story. I know that sounds like a big commitment when you just idly clicked on this link randomly, thinking you were just going to have a quick skim of this story and work out if you want to keep on reading, and I'm not going to lie… it is. Heck, my A/N's alone are a serious commitment… which you've probably worked out by now. But, to get the most out of this Olicity loving fic, you really should seriously consider going back to the beginning… or not, it's your life, I'm not the boss of you.

And after that lengthy discourse and ambling preamble, we move onto the actual story. Working on balancing out the angst heavy nature of the show right now… and can I just say, they had Oliver fall off a cliff, a literal cliffhanger, just like mine was… the Arrow writers and me… we're sooo sympatico. ;) Anyways, they're piling on the angst, so, I'm going to be kind to you and pile on the Olicity goodness… you know, in the beginning, to lull you all into a false sense of security before BAMMMOOOO! ripping your hearts out and playing a bloody game of table tennis with it… just kidding… it'll probably be volley ball. Anyways, you should all know my MO by now, but I promise you, there will be a lot of Olicity sweetness mixed into the whole thing, so don't worry about that. :D

Okay, that's it, I guess. Thanks for coming back for a fourth helping of my version of Olicity which is really based on how funny and light the relationship was in the first 20 minutes of the S3 premier and the Flarrow crossover episodes. Hopefully we'll get back there by the end of the season… after a lot more suffering, obviously. In the meantime, there is this fic. I do hope you'll enjoy and tell your friends about it… and if you hate it, tell your enemies – everyone wins! Except for your enemies, who you obviously don't want to win.

Long first chapter, so you'd better get cracking. A big thank you to Pheebs who betaed the first two chapters of this story for me. You're a doll! :D Does everyone remember where we left off from Halloween? Felicity had promised Oliver a date she was intent on organizing. We pick it up there. I'll catch you at the end. :D

UNDER MY SKIN

"Love conquers all," Aphrodite promised. "Look at Helen and Paris. Did they let anything come between them?"
"Didn't they start the Trojan War and get thousands of people killed?"
"Pfft. That's not the point. Follow your heart."
― Rick Riordan, (The Titan's Curse)

CHAPTER ONE

The woman stumbled, falling to her knees and tearing up the flesh as the gravel from the walking path cut into them. Her whole body was in agony, as though she'd been torn up from the inside out. "No," she sobbed, "please, no!" She could hear the crunch of booted feet approaching her, but she couldn't see them, her eyesight completely gone. Panic set in as she scrambled to get away. "Leave me alone!" she screamed. "Leave me alone! Help! Help!" For once the popular walking track seemed to be deserted, much to the woman's despair. All of her friends had warned her about walking so late, but she'd done it for years, and never had any problems. Until tonight. She felt a hand grab the back of her hoodie, hauling her backwards. Then her hair was being gripped, and she was being dragged. The sharp branches cut into her flesh as the man dragged her into the shrubbery, even as she fought violently to fend him off. Then he was kneeling on her chest, and she felt something sharp touch one of her now blind eyes. She didn't understand, didn't know what was happening. Grabbing at the man's wrist, she made one last desperate plea for mercy. "Please, don't," she implored him, tears running down her face. "Please, I don't know why you're doing this. You don't have to do this."

A man's voice rasped out a reply. "You should be proud. You're a part of a bigger whole. A whole that is going to change the world."

The woman had no idea what he was talking about. "You're crazy!" she said in desperation. "You're not going to get away with this. Someone is going to stop you, and make you pay!"

"The future thanks you for your sacrifice," rasped the man and then she felt the knife slip under her eyeball, causing an explosion of pain and that's when her screams began in earnest…

#

Oliver looked up at the manor as Felicity drove them up to directly in front of his home. She cut the engine, but Oliver made no attempt to get out of the car. He turned his attention back on the woman beside him, a big grin on his face. "Tonight was fun."

"Yes, it was," said Felicity in satisfaction. "And do you know why?"

"Because I got to spend some alone time with my best girl?" said Oliver happily. Felicity's choice of date night had been like her – unexpected and incredibly fun.

"Yeah, that was okay," said Felicity dismissively, and then an impish smile played around her lips, "but you want to know what the best part was?" She didn't let him answer. "It was me destroying you at mini-golf, and claiming my rightful title as Empress of All She Surveys," Felicity gloated.

Oliver couldn't seem to dislodge the giant grin from his face. "Was that what we were playing for? I didn't realize the stakes were so high."

"It's miniature golf," said Felicity with a completely serious expression on her face. "The stakes are always high."

Oliver laughed. "I had no idea you were such a devotee of the sport… miniature sport… actually, is it even a sport?"

"Of course it is," said Felicity roundly. "And I kicked your butt at it, big time." She looked very pleased with herself about that little fact.

Oliver had no idea where Felicity had been taking him on their date, and when she'd picked him up, and driven him to a miniature golf course, it had been totally random but more fun than he'd remembered having in a long time. Felicity had been adorably competitive about the whole thing and she'd made him laugh the entire night. "I just wasn't expecting you to turn mini-golf into a death sport," he said in amusement.

"Miniature golf is a sport of skill, technique and ultimately a mind game," said Felicity, still looking very proud of herself. "You have to get into the other person's head and fight your battles there. It's incredibly strategic."

"We're still talking about a game where you have to hit a ball into a little windmill, right?" asked Oliver indulgently.

"Miniature golf is the pinnacle of all sporting endeavors," insisted Felicity.

His lips twitched. "Actually, I've heard that. Aren't they going to swap out playing football at the next Super Bowl, and play miniature golf instead?"

Felicity snorted. "Football wishes it was as awesome as miniature golf."

Oliver laughed at her defiant defense of the game. "How did you get so good at it, anyways?" Felicity really had torn up the course with her ability. Oliver had been very impressed.

"When I was fourteen my Mom was working at this restaurant. Across the road where we were staying was a miniature golf course owned by the same people. The owner's son used to manage it, and I'd help out after school." Felicity gave him a sheepish look. "He was very cute, and I kind of wanted to impress him, so, I practiced playing the course… a lot."

Oliver arched an eyebrow. "How old was this guy?"

Felicity shrugged. "I don't know, twenty-four, twenty-five."

"Please tell me nothing happened between you two," said Oliver with a grimace. "What is it with you and older men?"

"Of course nothing happened," said Felicity quickly. "Except that I got wicked good at miniature golf. And Ben wasn't that much older than me."

"Ten years," pointed out Oliver.

"There is ten years between you and me."

Oliver realized she was right. "Oh, ah, well, that's different."

It was Felicity's turn to look amused now. "How?"

"Because you're not fourteen anymore, obviously."

"You're right, I'm not," said Felicity thoughtfully. "Maybe I should look Ben up, see what he's up to?"

"Oh," said Oliver with fake joviality, "jokes about hooking up with other men, they'll never not be funny to me."

Felicity laughed at his obvious sarcasm. "Just teasing."

"You know I'm fragile in that area when it comes to you," said Oliver unevenly, knowing she was only playing with him, but still feeling the need to point that out.

"With no good reason," she countered.

"Reason and my feelings for you don't really play nicely together," conceded Oliver. "You drive me crazy." He gave a small frown. "Again, not XR-320 crazy, regular, lovesick crazy." Oliver sighed. "Is there going to come some point where I don't have to qualify my crazy to you?"

"You can stop qualifying it now."

Oliver's face lit up. "Really? Does that mean our trial dating thing is over and we can start dating properly?" He gave her a hopeful look. "You know, properly, properly." They both knew what he meant by that. Felicity was wearing a floral blouse and white shorts for their date. Consequently Oliver had been unable to take his eyes off her shapely legs, beautifully pert and rounded backside all night. Felicity had caught him unabashedly staring at both those things so many times during their date that Oliver had given up even pretending to apologize. She really was driving him insane… a delicious, stomach-tightening insanity of anticipation that had Oliver's head spinning in her presence. He wanted to do more than just look, he wanted to touch Felicity, all over and not stop until they both found satisfaction. Oliver just wanted everything from Felicity. Pacing himself like this was hard, harder than he'd actually thought it was going to be, even though there was a lot to enjoy in the anticipation. What Oliver truly wanted, however, was to know that Felicity was as all in with their relationship as he was. When they made love for the first time, it'd be a true confirmation of that, and Oliver could hardly wait.

"Honestly, Oliver Queen, I give you an inch, and you think you're a ruler," said Felicity in exasperation. "I'm willing to concede I don't think you're still dealing with the aftereffects of that gas. I still think us looking before we leap is the smart way to go here. There is a lot at stake."

Oliver could see Felicity was still hesitant when it came to him, and honestly, he couldn't exactly blame her. "I know," he said warmly, "but just so you know, no matter how long we wait to take this to the next level, my feelings for you are not going to go away, and either is my desire to be with you." Oliver smiled at her. "I'm not pushing, Felicity, just stating the facts." Despite her firm stance on the matter, Oliver noticed she looked relieved by his reassurance. The crazy woman still actually thought he might decide this wasn't worth it. Felicity couldn't be more wrong, and he was going to prove it to her.

"Here's another fact," said Felicity, obviously looking to diffuse the heightened emotion between them, "I'm a doyen of mini-golf, and you just plain suck," she finished off triumphantly.

"I've heard of bad losers," said Oliver indulgently, "but apparently there's such a thing as a bad winner too."

Felicity waved away his teasing censure. "Just admit you suck at the sport, and I'm your superior in every way," she insisted sweetly. "I don't think that's too much to ask."

"I've never played before," he defended himself.

Felicity looked at him in amazement. "You've never played before? What, ever?"

Oliver pursed his lips, trying to think. "Well, there was this one time in my Senior year when the Gillespie twins and I snuck onto a mini-golf course and—" He stopped abruptly and moved a little in his seat. "Um… you know, I don't really remember how that story finishes," lied Oliver quickly, because he'd just remembered very clearly how that particular night had ended. He really didn't want Felicity knowing the details.

Felicity just smiled at his discomfort. "It's okay, Oliver. I had my suspicions that you weren't a virgin."

Oliver gave her a chagrined look. "Sorry, I have a past I'm not that proud of."

"We've all done dumb things when we were eighteen," said Felicity.

Oliver thought of all the stupid careless and reckless things he'd done with he was eighteen and grimaced. "Somehow I think my mistakes at eighteen would kind of win out over yours, Felicity."

"Don't be so sure," said Felicity with a sigh.

Oliver looked at her curiously. "What did you do that was so bad?" Felicity looked at him and bit her bottom lip. Oliver was immediately mesmerized by the simple action. He put a hand and cupped her cheek, running his thumb back and forth over the tortured skin. The impulse to kiss away the small act of torture was too strong to resist. Oliver leant forward, and was then reminded he was still wearing his seat belt. The safety device prevented him getting any closer to Felicity. Stupid life-saving equipment. He gave a grunt of annoyance at the obstruction.

Felicity smiled at his frustration. "We'll talk about it another day. For now, the most important thing is that you acknowledge I completely destroyed you at golf—"

"Miniature golf," he clarified in amusement at her continuing pride in her accomplishment. "You know, as in pretend."

"And from now on, I feel like you should address with the obvious respect I deserve," said Felicity, feigning the utmost seriousness, and ignoring his attempts to belittle her beloved sport. "How about Empress Smoak… or Goddess Smoak… hmm… that might be too much, change that to Demi-Goddess Smoak, I don't want to tempt fate. Or how about just Queen Felicity, that has a nice ring to—"

Oliver couldn't stand it anymore, he couldn't not be kissing this woman. In one swift movement he undid his seatbelt and was closing the small distance them and crushing her lips under his. Time stood still as his senses exploded with the taste and smell of the Empress Demi-Goddess Queen Felicity Smoak. The few chaste kisses he'd managed to steal throughout the day thus far had only whetted his appetite for more, and it was a long moment before Oliver found the strength to break the heated kisses, even for a few seconds. He withdrew the smallest amount, so that his lips still brushed hers when he spoke, but he could look into her eyes at the same time. "I prefer Felicity Queen," he said raggedly.

Felicity blinked up at him blearily, obviously just as affected as he was by their shared kisses. "You-you're saying it wrong," she whispered shakily. "It's Queen Felicity."

"I know what I'm saying," he assured her hoarsely before capturing her mouth with his again. Somewhere in the back of his head that little voice of reason was trying to caution him about going too fast with Felicity but Oliver couldn't bring himself to listen. In that moment there was no doubt in his mind that he very much wanted Felicity to be a Queen… his Queen. The thought sent a charge of pleasure throughout his entire body and to prevent himself from babbling out some confession that was only going to frighten Felicity with its intensity, Oliver chose to deepen the kiss instead. He reached for her seatbelt, releasing her from the confines of her seat and then Oliver put an arm around her waist, drawing her over to his side of the car.

Felicity's car was small, not designed for such maneuvers, but Oliver defiantly defied the physics of their limited space. His tongue was rubbing against hers, tasting her sweetness deeply, but it still wasn't enough. Oliver wanted flesh on flesh. With the top half of Felicity resting on him in their cramped quarters, Oliver managed to keep her anchored there with one hand on her backside while his other hand found its way up under her blouse. The memories of Felicity guiding his hand to her breast last night had the blood humming in his veins, and his hand seeking out the exact same goal. Oliver felt Felicity's breath hitch into their kiss as his hand found one of her breasts. The sensation of her softness filling his hand tore a guttural groan from deep inside of him. Only the thin material of her bra separated them from feeling each other properly, and Oliver was quick to deal with that. He reluctantly let go of her breast, and moved around to Felicity's back to find the clasp of her bra. Oliver fumbled in the limited space, unable to find the room to get his hand at the right angle to find the clasp, his elbow bumping against the dashboard.

He felt Felicity smile into their kiss. "It's at the front," she said breathlessly, breaking their kisses for a split second.

"Damn it," growled Oliver, realizing she was right, and now trying to get his hand back around to her front again. A little bubble of laughter reverberated against his chest as Felicity found the situation amusing.

"And here I was thinking I was trial dating a smooth operator," she teased him, eyes flashing playful amusement up at him.

"If we were really dating instead of trial, then you'd have gotten the smooth operator," grunted Oliver, finding it hard to get his hand back around to her front because they'd changed positions slightly and he didn't fit quite like he used to a few minutes previously. "Trial dates only get trial operators."

Felicity laughed. "Guess I should have read the fine print on that one, hmm?"

Oliver gave up trying to get his hand to Felicity's front in their current position. It wasn't going to happen, short of him busting her front windscreen. Something he'd actually given brief, but serious consideration to in his desperation. "Your car hates me," he complained unevenly in his frustration.

"Sebastian doesn't hate you, he's just still a little miffed you bled all over him. He's very house proud… car proud."

"Your car is a man?" asked Oliver unevenly. It was a little hard to think with Felicity pressed up against him like she was, but that fact caught his attention.

"Obviously."

"Okay."

"I like to name things."

"I've noticed." Oliver tried to get more comfortable underneath Felicity and was rewarded by banging his knee on the steering wheel. "Ow." He scrunched up his face. "You see, Sebastian hates me. I think he's jealous of me."

Felicity grinned. "Now who's imbuing inanimate objects with emotions?"

Oliver tried not to smile. "You're rubbing off on me."

Felicity moved on top of him a little. "Am I now?" she asked innocently.

Oliver was forced to bite back another groan at the feeling of her body rubbing itself against his, making her point a literal one.

"Is that a problem for you?" Felicity asked sweetly.

"A big problem," said Oliver shakily, feeling his body react helplessly to hers. Felicity moved again and fresh sensations rocketed around his body, ending up in one very particular place. Oliver swallowed hard. "And it's only getting bigger," he said shakily, feeling himself harden even more. "A lot bigger."

Felicity giggled. "You sound like Bunny again."

"Stop talking about other men," he groaned, only half-joking.

"One is gay and the other is a car," laughed Felicity. "It's hardly the same as you and the Gillespie twins who I'm sure—"

Oliver didn't let her finish. He didn't want to be talking about anyone other than then the two of them. The rest of the world didn't exist when he was kissing her, and that was exactly what Oliver wanted. His hand went to the back of Felicity's head, fingers weaving their way into her soft hair and helping him to deepen the kiss. The sound of their combined, uneven breathing filled the inside of the car as they both lost themselves in each other. It was Felicity who pulled back first.

"I-I should go," she panted, face flushed and looking thoroughly kissed.

"I should let you go," said Oliver hoarsely. They stared at each other for a long second and then Oliver was kissing her again, with Felicity returning his kisses just as enthusiastically. He couldn't get enough of Felicity, and this would be a perfect moment if it wasn't for the sharp pain between his shoulder blades. Something was digging into his back, but Oliver refused to break their kisses to find out what. Instead, he reached blindly behind him with his free hand, intent on removing the painful item from between his shoulder blades. Still lost in Felicity's kisses, Oliver fumbled behind himself, finally finding the nub which was pressing into his flesh. He pushed on it before realizing too late it was actually the latch to open the door. Oliver was pressed so hard against the door that when it gave way, he immediately went with it. He was forced to relinquish his hold on Felicity for fear of dragging her out of the car with him as he fell backwards onto the concrete of his front driveway. Even so, Felicity still ended up half hanging out of the car, caught up in his body as Oliver slipped to the ground. He looked up at her, dazed from the abrupt relocation, Felicity lying on her stomach over the front seat, looking down at him.

She burst out laughing, putting her hand over her mouth to stifle her obvious amusement. "Are-are you okay?" she managed to choke out around her merriment.

Oliver screwed up his face, annoyed that they weren't kissing anymore. "You saw that, didn't you? Your car intentionally spat me out." That only made Felicity laugh harder while Oliver managed to untangle his feet from where they were stuck in the foot well and then he was kneeling by the open car door, face level with Felicity as she tried to contain her mirth. "You need a bigger car," he informed her as sternly as he could, but her laughter was infectious.

"Maybe I just need a smaller boyfriend," countered Felicity mischievously.

Oliver grinned. "That's the first time you've called me your boyfriend," he noted in satisfaction.

"Trial boyfriend," said Felicity, hastily backtracking but still smiling.

"Too late. The word is out in the universe, you can't take it back… or qualify it." Oliver leant against the car seat as he knelt there on the concrete and gave Felicity a pointed look. "You know what isn't small though?"

Felicity laughed again. "That sounds like yet another Bunny segue way," she teased him.

"I was going to say the house behind me," said Oliver, accepting her teasing good-naturedly. "It has forty-three rooms, you know, and twenty-two of them are bedrooms." Oliver realized how that must sound so he hastily tried to correct himself. "And three kitchens. We could go inside, and I could make you a sandwich or something."

Felicity bit her bottom lip. "I thought we agreed we weren't going to… have any… sandwiches… until after the twenty dates or three weeks are up?"

"Well, maybe we can just make the sandwiches and nibble on them a bit?" wheedled Oliver. "Or maybe just lick them—" He stopped abruptly. "Okay, the sandwich analogy thing is getting weird. Was that weird?"

Felicity laugh. "A bit."

He gave her a hopeful look. "But the invitation stands." Tonight had been perfect. Oliver wasn't ready for it to be over yet.

Felicity looked suddenly regretful. "I said I'd call my mom tonight. She was pretty down last night. I wanted to make sure she was doing better tonight."

"Oh," said Oliver, trying to hide his disappointment, "okay." He suddenly gave her intent look. "Just out of curiosity, did you happen to make that arrangement with your mom as a safeguard against us… ah… you know… in case you were tempted to… I mean, if you thought you might not be able to say no to any offer of… umm… sandwiches I might have made tonight?"

Felicity blushed ever so slightly. "Maybe."

Oliver couldn't help the pleased smile which immediately came to his lips.

Felicity pouted and playfully slapped his shoulder. "You don't have to look so smug about it."

"I'm just really happy to know I'm not the only one who has trouble saying no to sandwiches," said Oliver impishly. "I was beginning to worry."

"Well, I just thought it was smart because, well, sandwiches can be very—" Felicity trailed off and was suddenly staring at his lips. "Um… very… ah—"

Oliver's head bobbed up and down. "Yes, they can," he agreed throatily, finding an equal fascination with her lips. "Very, very."

Oliver moved to kiss her again but Felicity quickly put her hand up and covered his mouth with her hand. "Okay, we should probably stop there."

"Dh mfh hfto?"

Felicity gave him a confused look. "What?"

Oliver lifted her hand from his mouth. "Do we have to?" he repeated himself.

"It's the smart thing to do," said Felicity, but her tone didn't hold a lot of conviction.

"You know, instead of just Skyping with your mom, if you're really worried about her, we could take the jet and fly out and see her over the weekend."

Felicity's eyes went wide. "Oh no, we're not doing that."

He cocked his head at her reaction. "Why not?"

"Um, because it's not a good idea," said Felicity, her expression suddenly pained.

"Seeing your mom isn't a good idea?" he pushed her. "Or do you mean seeing your mom with me is the problem?"

"Ah…"

"Felicity," he said in mild exasperation, "I want to meet your mother."

"And you will… eventually," said Felicity unsteadily.

"When is eventually?"

"I don't know."

"Take a rough stab at it."

"I don't know… in a few—"

"Days?"

"Dear God, no," she said anxiously.

"Weeks then?"

"Ah… well—"

"So what, we're talking months?" asked Oliver in horror.

"Months isn't that long," protested Felicity.

"How many months?"

"Two…umm… enty."

"Twoenty isn't a number," said Oliver firmly. "Were you trying to ease into the number twenty?"

Felicity wrinkled her nose and didn't reply.

"Twenty months is nearly two years, Felicity," said Oliver in disbelief.

"You're right," said Felicity in relief, "we should totally just round it out to the two year mark for neatness sakes."

That earned her an exasperated look. "I'm not waiting two years to meet your mother, Felicity. What's the big deal? You met my mother."

"We didn't exactly get along."

"She respected your strength and loyalty," he argued with her. "And your stubbornness."

"Yeah, well, with my mom and me… it's complicated," said Felicity unevenly.

"Gee, I wouldn't know anything about that," said Oliver, straight-faced. "My mother and I had a completely normal relationship."

"Oliver," groaned Felicity.

"Felicity, it won't be a big deal, I promise," said Oliver earnestly, trying to reassure her. "I'm great with moms." He gave a self-deprecating smile. "Fathers not so much, but mothers love me."

"I don't think you're ready to meet my mom," said Felicity unsteadily. "She's kind of a force of nature."

"I like nature, I'm a big fan of nature." When Felicity still hesitated Oliver kept talking. "Felicity, I want to meet the woman who raised you," he said sincerely. "The person who had a hand in shaping the amazing, brilliant, funny and endearing woman I'm currently looking at right now."

"You say that now, but it's like going out the back into the kitchen of your favorite restaurant to find a chef who doesn't wash his hands after going to the bathroom, and suffers from some kind of flaking skin issue."

"I'm pretty sure that won't be the case," said Oliver slowly.

"You don't know my mom," groaned Felicity.

"Kind of my point."

Felicity grimaced. "Can we table this discussion for another time?"

"Yes, but just so long as you know that we will definitely be revisiting this subject." Oliver paused. "And the offer of the jet still stands, with or without me."

Felicity smiled and cupped his face. "That's sweet."

"Of course, it'd be a more fun trip with me," said Oliver, not above shamelessly promoting himself. "But don't let that influence your decision."

Felicity half-smiled. "Okay, I won't."

"You can let it influence you a little bit," backtracked Oliver. "Or a lot… you know, whatever feels right."

Felicity leant over and kissed him gently on the lips. "That feels right," she said softly.

Oliver gave her a warm look, lips still tingling from the brief contact. "It does, doesn't it?"

"But I do have to go," said Felicity reluctantly. "My mom—"

"Needs you, I know," said Oliver understandingly. He kissed her again. "You go and tell her hello from me." Oliver was determined to show Felicity he was all about putting her needs above his own. He saw a little look of guilt flash over Felicity's face. "Your mom… she does know about me, right?"

"In theory," hedged Felicity.

Oliver's eyebrows lifted. "What does that mean?"

"It means she knows I work for you."

"And?"

"And that we're… umm… friends."

"You haven't told her we're trial dating?" asked Oliver in surprise.

"No, because then I'd sound crazy," said Felicity uncomfortably.

"The trial dating thing was your idea," protested Oliver.

"I know, but I was going to hold off on telling her anything until the trial was over." Felicity looked suddenly worried. "That's okay, isn't it?"

The truth was, Oliver would have felt a little happier to know Felicity had told her mother about their budding relationship. It would have cemented it more, and Oliver really liked the thought of that, but he understood Felicity's hesitation. It didn't make it any less frustrating, but he got it. "Felicity, I keep telling you, you're setting the pace on this thing. We'll go public with this when you feel ready to and not before. I want you to tell your mom about us when it feels right." He gave her a winsome smile. "I get a little… eager… when it comes to you, and I know that I can get a little pushy and controlling—" Oliver paused. "Just so you know, you can jump in anytime, and disagree with me."

"You are pushy when you want something." Felicity smiled. "But so am I, so that works out nicely."

"Okay, guess I can live with that."

"I'm just way less obnoxious about it," said Felicity teasingly.

Oliver smiled. "Isn't saying you're not obnoxious kind of obnoxious?"

"No, what's obnoxious is using any flimsy excuse to bring up the fact that I pulverized you tonight." Felicity grinned. "Which I'm going to do… again." Her grin widened. "I won, you lost. I'm so much better than you."

Oliver was struggling to keep a straight face. "I think your modesty in this particular situation proves that."

"And you know what this situation is?" asked Felicity happily. "It's me handing you your ass at a sport of wit and cunning."

"Okay, apparently you're not going to be gracious about this—" began Oliver in amusement.

Felicity snorted. "Not even a little bit."

"So, my honor dictates that I ask for a rematch."

"Do you have any honor left after the way I decimated your manhood tonight?" asked Felicity sweetly.

Oliver was trying very hard not to laugh. "I've scraped together the shattered remnants and am demanding a rematch with it."

"Gee, I hate to see a grown man being utterly humiliated for a second time," said Felicity, feigning concern but then a giant grin broke out on her face. "Who am I kidding? I'd love to see that again."

"You know what they say pride comes before," he said mockingly.

"Complete and utter annihilation of your opponent?" suggested Felicity brightly.

Oliver laughed. "We'll see." He loved how confident Felicity was being. It was adorable and truth be told, he didn't care if he won or lost, just that they'd be spending more time together. Oliver scratched his cheek. "Just out of interest, do you think you'll be wearing those same shorts at our rematch?"

Felicity frowned and looked a little confused. "I don't know, why?"

"Oh well," said Oliver with his best attempt at innocence, "they seem to be your lucky shorts. I definitely think you should wear them again." Please, God, wear those shorts again.

Felicity made a dismissive sound. "I whupped your butt because I'm awesome at mini-golf and you're not. It doesn't matter what shorts I'm wearing. Heck, I don't need to wear shorts at all."

Oliver had a lot of trouble keeping a straight face at that thought. "A concept I am more than a hundred percent behind," he said sincerely. "Obviously I will have to buy out the session time while we're there though. I don't want you to cause any riots, but I have no problem with that." Oliver gave her his best pointed look. "No problem with that," he assured her throatily.

Felicity's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You know, I'm beginning to think you're not taking our golf war seriously."

"Trust me," said Oliver a little unevenly, still picturing Felicity making all those golf shots sans pants, "it's pretty much all I can think about."

"Are you picturing me naked right now?" asked Felicity, eyeing him warily.

"No," said Oliver indignantly, "I'm a gentleman. You're wearing underwear… white underwear." He gave her a crooked smile. "It's very nice… very tasty… I mean tasteful… tasteful is what I meant to say."

Felicity's lips were twitching which completely ruined her attempts to admonish him. "Yes, you really are quite the gentleman, aren't you?" Before Oliver could respond, Felicity had a suggestion for him. "Let's make this interesting."

Oliver gave her a salacious smile. "Trust me, if you could see what I was thinking, it's already pretty interesting."

Felicity bit her cheek to try and stop her smile overtaking her entire face. "We should put a wager on this."

Oliver's eyebrows shot up. "Like money?"

"No, not money, something more interesting than that." She looked at him expectantly. "Name your stakes."

"If I win it counts as five dates," said Oliver without hesitation.

"Five?" squawked Felicity. "Please, that is never going to happen."

"What's the matter, Demi-Goddess, worried tonight was just a fluke, and you can't repeat your good luck?" he taunted her smugly.

"It wasn't good luck, it was Olympian level skill," she said roundly.

"Mini-golf isn't an Olympic sport."

"Yet."

"I feel pretty confident in calling a never on that one." He gave her an intent look. "What do you want if you happen to win?"

"You mean when I win?" asked Felicity confidently. She screwed up her face and looked thoughtful. "I don't know. I'll have to think about it."

"You can get back to me on that," said Oliver easily.

"Aren't you worried about what I might ask for?"

"No."

"That kind of latitude could go to a girl's head," she warned him.

Oliver just smiled. "It's not going to be an issue because I'm going to win my five dates anyways."

Felicity patted his face. "It's so cute when you're this deluded. Really, it's beyond adorable."

"He who laughs last—"

"Is probably watching your golf technique?" offered up Felicity sweetly.

"Gloat all you want—"

"Thank you, I think I will," said Felicity smugly.

"But I'm going to be the one doing the decimating next time."

"Big talk from the guy currently on his knees," said Felicity impishly. "Guess I was right about that prediction after all."

"Well, I predict next time you're going to be the one on your knees in front of me by the end of the night," said Oliver self-assuredly and then paused, brow wrinkling as he realized how that must have sounded. "Okay, there really is no way to make that not sound sexual, is there?"

"It doesn't matter because it's never going to happen. You're going down, Oliver Queen. I suggest you stock up on knee pads accordingly."

Oliver just looked at her.

"You're still going to that place, aren't you?" asked Felicity in amusement.

"It's pretty hard not to," said Oliver ruefully.

Felicity shook her head at him. "It's that just kind of easy distraction that makes you cannon fodder for my golf prowess."

"I'll be focused by our rematch," he predicted confidently.

"It won't do you any good," she predicted with just as much confidence. Felicity leaned a little more out of the car and kissed him. "Goodnight, Oliver," she said huskily.

"Goodnight, Felicity," he said throatily. "Thank you for the date. I had a lot of fun."

"And nothing got set on fire," she laughed.

Oliver moved slightly, still feeling the decided discomfort in his crotch area. "Speak for yourself," he said wryly.

Felicity blushed and bit her bottom lip. "See you tomorrow."

Oliver reluctantly stood up and nodded. "Tomorrow." He closed the door to her car and then Felicity was putting her seatbelt on turning the ignition of the car before driving off. Oliver watched her leave, feeling that now familiar wrench of not having Felicity by his side. It sucked. He really needed to do something about them going home to separate houses at the end of the night. Even if they stayed within their 'no sandwiches' rule, and just could sleep in the same bed, that would go a long way in helping him deal with this bereft feeling of being separated from Felicity. Oliver made up his mind to try and float that particular idea by Felicity the next time they spoke. All this thinking about sandwiches had Oliver hungry for an actual sandwich. He turned around, and let himself back into the manor, making a beeline for the kitchen. Once there he made himself a large sandwich, sitting down at the table to enjoy it. Oliver looked at the sandwich in his hand, and couldn't help but remember his conversation with Felicity. God, but what he wouldn't have given for Felicity to have taken him up on his sandwich offer. Oliver's eyes glazed over a little as he imagined what they could be doing right now if Felicity's cooler head hadn't prevailed.

"Are you going to eat that sandwich or make out with it?"

Oliver turned his head at the laconically amused question to see Thea standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He gave her a lopsided smile. "Hey Speedy, early night?"

Thea strolled into the kitchen and took a seat on his left at the table. "Yeah, Roy said he'd close up for me, to make up for last night when he bailed." She rolled her eyes. "Doing what I don't know. I'm only the girlfriend, I don't get to know what's going on his life."

"I'm sure it wasn't anything interesting," said Oliver quickly.

"He said he was with you."

"Oh, right, yes, yes, he was," said Oliver quickly.

"Why does that sound like a lie?" asked Thea suspiciously.

"I swear to you, Thea," said Oliver sincerely, "Roy was with me last night."

"And how is that meant to make me feel better – that my boyfriend would rather hang out with my brother than me on Halloween?"

"It wasn't a case of rather… it was a case of had to."

"Why did Roy have to spend the night with you and not me?"

"Umm… there was stuff… you know, man stuff," said Oliver lamely.

"I'm taking the other half of your sandwich in payment for that beyond pathetic explanation," said Thea, reaching for the remainder of the sandwich on the plate between them.

"A fair deal," agreed Oliver.

Thea took a bite and then screwed up her face. "Ugh, you always have too many pickles on your sandwiches." She put down the sandwich and started to pull the majority of them out. "What did you and Felicity do tonight?" Thea briefly stopped her de-pickling endeavors to smile at him. "Saw your dismount from the car. It wasn't pretty."

"Her car hates me."

"Oh yeah, because that's a thing," said Thea dryly.

"We played miniature golf."

Thea gave him a curious look. "Is that a sex thing?"

Oliver frowned. "No, it's a miniature golf thing."

"It sounds like a sex thing."

"No, it's you using sticks to hit balls into holes…" Oliver paused. "Okay, saying it like that, it does sound like a sex thing, but it wasn't. It was miniature golf."

"Who won?" asked Thea with interest.

"Felicity… convincingly." Oliver smiled. "There was a dance at the end and everything." His smile widened as he remembered her energetic dance of victory, or as Felicity called it 'The Suck It' dance. Oliver hadn't been able to stop laughing.

"Seems like you enjoyed the dance," said Thea in amusement.

"More than I should have in a public place," conceded Oliver roguishly.

"My brother, out on a date playing mini-golf," marveled Thea. "Just when you think you've seen it all."

"What, I can go out and enjoy myself," protested Oliver.

"I know that, I just wasn't aware that you did," said Thea wryly.

Oliver had to concede her point. "Cute."

Thea finished pulling out the last of the pickles. "Did you use the entire bottle in that sandwich? How many pickles does one sandwich need?"

Oliver happily scooped them up to add to his half. "I love pickles," he said unapologetically. "They were one of the things I missed the most on the island. Pickles are my happy place. Nothing else really tastes like pickles other than pickles. And toilet paper."

"Toilet paper tastes likes pickles?" Thea teased him. "Do tell, big brother."

"No, smarty pants." Oliver half-smiled. "I missed toilet paper on the island too."

Thea pulled a face. "I wouldn't have survived five minutes in that place."

Oliver held her gaze. "You're stronger than you think, Thea. I didn't think I'd survive either, but I did. Queens are survivors, it's in our blood." He pulled a face. "But that being said, I never want to see you in that kind of danger… not ever."

"Unclench, Ollie," she said indulgently. "The biggest danger I'm facing is being overwhelmed by your pickle breath." Thea smiled. "Seeing as you're ODing on those passion killers, am I correct in guessing you're not expecting Felicity back tonight?"

Oliver gave short shake of his head. "No, she's going to spend some time with her mom online."

"How's her mom doing?"

"Better, but it's still early days."

"You should fly Felicity out to see her," encouraged Thea.

"We've talked about it," said Oliver, absently picking up another pickle slice and munching on it.

"But?"

"But Felicity wants to take this slowly, ease into the whole letting people know thing, and I promised her I'd make sure that happened. I don't want her to feel under any kind of pressure from me, particularly while things are still a little…" Oliver searched for the right word. "…fragile between us. I can't screw this up, Thea."

"Oh."

Oliver frowned. "What's the matter?"

Thea grimaced. "Now, don't freak out…"

Oliver immediately tensed. "Thea, what's wrong?"

"Are you promise you're not going to freak out?" Thea looked worried. "I don't want you to freak out."

"What's making me freak out is you telling me not to freak out," said Oliver unevenly. "What is it, Thea? What's wrong? Just tell me."

Thea reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. "Remember, freakage… not an option." She fiddled with the screen of her phone, and then handed it to Oliver.

He took it, confused as to what this could possibly be about. As soon as Oliver looked at the screen, he blanched. "Oh crap," he muttered in distress, "crap, crap, crap."

"Do you want me to get you more pickles?" offered Thea sympathetically and then nodded her head at Oliver's continuing expression of distress. "I'll get you more pickles. That'll make you feel better."

Oliver stared at the screen and let out a vexed grunt. Damn it, why now? Everything had been going so perfectly. "Bring the whole jar," he instructed her in resignation. "This is an entire jar of pickles situation." Oliver sat back in his seat, grimacing.

And then some…

A/N: And so the angst begins! Miniature angst, to go with my miniature theme of the first chapter – golf, Felicity's shorts. ;) I had to include them after seeing Stephen's reaction to Emily's amazing legs at the Flarrow cross over party. It was pretty funny. He looked at her legs in those black shorts a lot and I don't blame him. I looked at them a lot too and I'm completely straight! Emily's legs very impressive and I had to do a little homage to them in the opening chapter because I knew Oliver would be even more enamored of them than very happily married Stephen. ;)

Now then, any guesses as to what the first hurdle I'm throwing Olicity's way might be? If you've been an attentive duckling, you might be able to figure it out from one of my previous stories. As always, points for those who pay attention for the cookies I pepper throughout my story… hmm, pepper cookies… oddly compelling, I should totally try and make some of them. But in the meantime, I'd better crack on with getting the next chapter done. I'll sober Hank up and see what he comes up with… other than hacking up fur balls and those tiny umbrellas from cocktail drinks. Hope to see you in the next chapter and am curious to see if anyone can guess what has Oliver in a bit of a flap. ;)

PS. Just come from jbuffyangel's tumblr account and guess what? She published my ask. How awesome is that? Sorry, for the excitement, I've never been published on Tumblr before and quite frankly, have no idea what I'm doing. I think my post is called 'Parallels and Random Thoughts' or something like that. You'll know it when you start reading – I've been told I've got a pretty distinctive style to my talking… I think it's a polite way of saying 'run at the mouth'… and obviously I don't expect anyone to go over and read it. Anyways, I'm stoked… just can't work out how to reply to Jen. I seriously have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to Tumblr. Sigh. I suck.