Notes: My first foray into this fandom yay! I decided to give the show a second chance because there was too much Felicity on my dash and my friends wouldn't stop gushing. She's by far my favorite character and I'm definitely into the "Olicity" bandwagon :)

I'm planning to write smut, I just need to figure out first how to make it happen in a believable way.

Unbeta-ed so I apologise for any mistakes.

x

"So, where did you learn to shoot? Was it when you were lost in the island?"

Her fingers brush along the bow, tips falling into the indentations of the crafted wood before her hand closes around it as she picks it up. The first time she touched his bow she had been restless, terrified of how everything would turn out, adrenaline still settling down as worry wouldn't allow her to be tired, the flatline beeping still buzzing in her ears.

She brings the bow head high, pulls the string closer to her face as she tests its resistance. She likes the weight of it in her hand, the way the string pulls against her fingers, how solid it feels in her palm. She wonders how much focus it's needed, if shooting an arrow requires the same attention and precision of rewiring a computer.

Three fingers curling around the string and head tilting as she pretends to aim, focusing her good open eye on Oliver's back as he finishes beating up the pole with his stick. Diggle had left several minutes before to run some errands and she had promised to stay until he was back, asking if babysitting should be added to her resume. Oliver didn't find it funny.

He turns around then, giving her an amused raised eyebrow that makes her lower the bow immediately in embarrassment for being caught considering shooting her boss in the ass. "Yup," is his way of reply as he walks to the table and grabs a bottle of water.

Felicity avoids her eyes, tries not to stare at his naked torso, telling herself she should be used to it by now; days of hanging out with them in the warehouse had taught her that a girl really shouldn't be around a shirtless attractive man so often. She can't deny Oliver is good looking, well-built and disciplined. He wasn't kidding when he said he was particular about what he put in his body. It definitely paid off.

"You're really good."

"I had five years to practice."

He pulls a dark grey shirt on and she's thankful; she's done updating their system and with nothing else to do until Diggle comes back, Felicity has no choice but to find something to distract herself and watching her boss working out is always more than she bargains for. "You probably worked out too, or else you wouldn't have kept in such good shape." She cuts herself off, eyes going as wide as a deer caught in headlights and she wants to smack herself in the face. "I didn't say that out loud did I? I didn't mean to imply I stare at you like a creep. Because I don't. At all. How about we change the subject?" She turns around and pretends to busy herself with something, hoping she isn't blushing as furiously as she feels.

"I didn't say a word." It's the smug tone of his voice that makes her turn back to him and want to wipe the look off his face with her hands.

She doesn't do it though because it'd be wrong, and she'd probably get fired. So Felicity shifts her attention to the row of arrows and hopes Diggle will be back so she can leave with at least part of her dignity intact.

She touches the pad of her finger to the tip of an arrow, testing its sharpness then pulls the arrow out, gently holding it in her hands. She can't deny archery is an attractive sport, the way it requires discipline and a good posture, but she never had considered it as a crime fighting weapon, and Oliver made it look so easy.

"Here." He's so close to her she's startled, flinching as her hand closes around the arrow in reflex to avoid from dropping it. He takes the arrow from her hand replacing it with the bow and their fingers brush in the process. Felicity holds her breath and pretends the feel of his skin against hers, even briefly, doesn't have any effect on her.

She takes the bow and looks at him questioningly. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Put it in position."

It takes her a moment for his intention to process and when it does Felicity immediately takes a step away from him, disbelief all over her face as she turns the bow down to face the ground. "Not a chance, mister. I'm fine studying it but definitely not equipped to be responsible for shooting a very sharp arrow somewhere it shouldn't end up."

"You seem to be to be able to handle your hands just fine."

She knows it isn't his intention, but the words that come out of his mouth reach her ears with a completely different subtext and Felicity feels her cheeks burning up again. "I'm definitely not good with my hands. Not when it's not something computer related. Or wires related. I can handle those just fine. Not anything else, much less anything dirty. Especially anything that can kill. Or injure. I don't even know what to do with my hands most of the time! And I'm babbling again." She shuts up, wrings her hands together in a nervous motion before she realizes what she's doing and stops.

Oliver stands there, watches as she speaks and she doesn't know if she should be grateful he never seems to judge her or angry he never stops her from babbling nonstop and embarrassing herself in front of him. Constantly.

"You love this, don't you?" She asks exasperated and wonders again when Diggle is coming back.

"I admit I find it kind of cute."

She's completely disarmed by his honesty, the softness that fills his face and as she stares at him remembering the day he called her remarkable, her resolve falters. "So… how do I do this?"

Oliver smiles and mentions for her to follow him as he walks to the center of his workout area, until they're in line with the target board. He positions himself behind her and uses his hands on her waist to turn her in the right position. "First set your feet apart."

She does as he shows her, putting her feet slightly apart as his hands burn holes where they touch her skin. She waits for his instruction, holding her breath and biting her lip, and he brings a hand to her elbow, prompting it up so she can put the bow in position.

"Not so high," he says and his face is so close she feels his breath fan over her cheek. "The bow has to be around shoulder level, however you feel comfortable. And stretch your arm. " She positions it, pressing three fingers to the string and pulling it back gently. "Mhmm." He breathes out a sound of approval and Felicity's heart starts beating faster than it should under the circumstances.

He pushes the arrow into her hand and helps her put it in place. She turns the bow down the way she's seen done many times on TV and gets a proud look from Oliver as a result. "So. Pull and let go?"

"You have to place your fingers correctly. Index on top of the arrow and middle and ring fingers below it," he arranges her fingers correctly and the contact brings all of her body nerves into alert. "Pull it gently until you feel it's enough, then let go, all fingers at the same time."

He's too close to her and his body heat permeates her skin even through their clothes; she finds it a little hard to breath when his proximity is making her distracted. He still has one hand on her hip holding her body in place, the other rests gently under her elbow, keeping the bow in the right position, and his mouth is so close to her ear she can almost feel his lips touch her earlobe.

Damn it, she thinks, as she feels her hands start shaking. She shouldn't be allowed near anyone she finds attractive, especially when this someone is her boss, and the Hood, when she can't control her body response to him, when he smells of cologne and a faint hint of sweat and everything about him is warm and solid.

"I can't do this with you breathing down my neck!" She's so exasperated she forgets to turn the bow down and remove the arrow so when she turns around and her fingers lose their hold on the string the arrow flies, doing a wobbling trajectory through the room straight into one of the computer monitors.

"Felicity!"

Felicity's eyes widen as she gasps in utter terror, dropping the bow to the ground with a loud thud and runs to the machines on the desk. "Oh my God! Look what you did! Oh my God! My poor computer! I told you I shouldn't do this!" Felicity bends over the desk, hands pulling the arrow out of the screen then checking the damage done and she's so furious she's almost hugging it. "I warned you. I told you it was a bad idea but do you ever listen? Of course you never listen. How am I supposed to concentrate when you're so close? Not that your proximity makes me lose my focus because it has nothing to do with how you smell or your body heat it's just you keep breathing down my neck and…." Her words falter as she realizes what she's saying and berates herself for not having a filter between her brain and mouth. "You really need to make me stop talking."

Oliver stands a foot away from her and she feels him assessing the damage on the monitor and the damage to her dignity and she really wishes the ground would open up and swallow her whole. She's so embarrassed she feels the corners of her eyes fill with unshed tears but she refuses to cry.

"It was just the monitor," Oliver says after a moment, when the silence that had fallen in the room was becoming almost deafening and she's thankful he changed the subject.

"It's not just the monitor!" She's petulant, humiliation and anger mixing together and messing with her brain. God, where is Diggle? She needs to get out of her and get away from Oliver for several weeks until her embarrassment is gone. "I could have shot a power line and exploded this entire place. I could have shot you!"

He smiles and walks closer to her, taking her hands away from the broken monitor. "I've taken worse."

"That's not the point."

"Felicity, stop thinking," his voice is low, soft and he looks at her with such intensity that makes the hair on the back of her head stand up on attention. She wonders what he really meant by his words. Oliver tugs at her hand and doesn't let it go. "I'll have it replaced before the next time you come. Come on."

"Are you crazy?" She scoffs in disbelief he'd be trying to get her to shoot again. Even if she was a good shot there's no way she can focus on her task when he insists in pressing himself against her.

"Do you trust me?"

She bites her lip and looks down at where their hands are joined; she hadn't realized he's still holding it, hadn't realized her fingers had curled themselves around his as if they had been made to fit. "You know that I do."

"Then come on. You'll get it right. I promise."

She lets him pull her to the workout area again, pushing the bow and arrow into her hands, and just like last time and positions himself behind her and moves his hands on her body, one gently resting on her waist, the other on her own hand, fingers against hers as he pulls the string back with her. When Oliver had helped her before his movements had been innocent, unaware as he had no idea what his proximity did to her; now she feels a deliberate press of his body against her, gentle but firm, a sensual brush of his fingers against her skin and she knows he's doing it on purpose, testing her. She won't let him win, she thinks, because if he wants to push she can shove right back.

"Breath," he says, fingers curling around her trembling hand before he takes his own hand away.

Felicity takes a deep breath and lets it go slowly, positions the bow and arrow and closes one eye, tilting her head gently aim better. She pulls the string further back, lining it with her mouth, ignoring Oliver's solid body behind her, ignoring the way his scent envelops her in a soft cocoon, ignores how good his hand feels against her hips and closes her eyes to relax her brain. She opens her eyes again, focus on her aim and release the arrow, three fingers moving from the string at the same time and watches as it flies straight into the target board, almost dead center.

"Wow."

"Good job, Katniss," he whispers in her ear, breath warm and voice husky and in the adrenaline of the moment she turns around in his arms, his hands refusing to let go of her waist and she's sure the smile glowing on his face is a match to hers.

Then she feels the excitement of the moment suddenly change as the air around them becomes thick and heavy. Felicity watches his smile shrink into a tiny smirk, his eyes darken with what she can only assume is desire and suddenly she can't breathe. He leans closer as his hands grab her hips tighter and she feels her body heating up, her stomach turn into a knot and her head go dizzy as the realization of what's about to happen sinks in.

She had imagine sometimes what it'd be like to kiss him, to be the focus of his attention, to have his hands on her body and his lips on her skin, but she had never kidded herself, never had allowed herself to hope. Oliver's someone so far out of her league that any possibility was a ludicrous thought to her.

Suddenly she's seventeen again and she's helping the class jock with biology, wondering if their friendship will carry outside of their living rooms, if maybe, just maybe she'll finally have a chance.

She's still holding the bow when she feels his breath across her lips and she runs her tongue over them, wonders if he'll like how she kisses, if her lips are soft enough, if he'll mind getting her red lipstick all over his lips, if he'll laugh it off afterwards.

"Did anybody die while I was out?"

Felicity pulls back so fast she almost trips over the bow that falls to the ground. "Diggle!" She almost screeches, picking the bow up and walking to the table to return it. "Nope. No one died, not on my watch. I'm a great babysitter. Though I did murder one of the monitors but it was Oliver's fault. I told him I shouldn't be around sharp ends. It was a bad idea to teach me to shoot, very bad idea. Look how it turned out." And she means the almost kiss more than anything else.

Diggle stands on the base of the stairs unmoving, silence falling upon the trio as he watches his friends wish they were anywhere else but here. Oliver looks like the cat that almost ate the canary and Felicity's wringing her hands and dancing on the ball of her feet, looking so uncomfortable he almost takes pity on her. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Of course not!"

"No!"

Oliver and Felicity say at the same time and she sounds almost outraged, as if the fact he thinks there was something happening for him to interrupt is unbelievable.

She quickly gathers her things, pulling her coat on faster than they have ever seen her do anything, cooing to her ruined monitor before moving to the stairs. "This better be fixed when I'm back." The tone of her voice leaves no opening for discussion and Diggle suppress the desire to laugh at Oliver's face.

She almost runs, making her way to the door in record time, but Oliver's fast too, reaching her before she has the chance to hit the code and open the door.

"Hey," he holds her wrist gently, preventing her from leaving and she turns but she can't quite look him in the eye. "We're not done." This time the tone of his voice leaves no opening for discussion and the certainty in it makes her shiver.

"Okay," she nods and he lets go of her, brushing his fingers down her hand as he does so. It's not a yes, or a no, or his undying love, but it's something and she's satisfied with that.

A promise of not over is much more than she's ever imagined to happen between them and she's okay with it.