Title: Catalyst
Summary: Who knew that scent of Oliver's body wash on Felicity's skin and the unfortunate arrival of Barry Allen would be a catalyst for something more between the vigilante and his Girl Friday? Olicity. Spoilers for 2x10 if you squint.
Rating: K+ (Sort of)
Disclaimer: I wish that I could claim these two as my own because they're just so darn fun to play with but sadly, I own no part of "Arrow".
Spoilers: 2x10 "Blast Radius"
Author's Note: Okay so I have no idea where this idea came from and honestly, it started before I watched this week's episode but I had to include some Barry tension for them. I don't exactly consider this my best work but I couldn't get it out of my head so here you go.
Catalyst
It was supposed to be an easy in and out. No one was supposed to get hurt. So when he found Digg crouched at the back door of the car and Felicity perched on the edge of the backseat with blood running from her hairline, he panicked.
"What the hell happened?" he barked at Digg.
Diggle stood without answering and moved to the drivers' side door. He got behind the wheel as Oliver ushered Felicity further into the car before sliding in beside her. Her face was pale, her skin clammy. He took in her wet clothes and runny mascara, watched the way that her body trembled, and put his arm around her shoulders. He tugged her closer and held her at his side. He wasn't sure if it was the cold or the adrenaline coursing through her that had her shaking but either way, he was overcome with the urge to make it stop.
With his free hand, he tipped her chin up so that he could examine the laceration on her head.
"Someone pu-pushed me. A fight broke out by the pool and I got stuck in the middle. Before I knew what was happening, I was in the w-water. I must've hit my head."
A tremor racked her body. He tightened his hold on her.
They had spent the last few weeks trying to gather anything that they could on Sebastian Blood. When Laurel had approached the vigilante and warned him against trusting the alderman, he hadn't taken her warning lightly. It had been evident that something about Blood has set her on edge and Oliver was determined to find out what he was hiding.
They had come up with a plan. Another campaign fundraiser for Blood. Only this time Felicity was coming with them. Oliver was supposed to get her access to his phone so that she could crack it and any files she may be able to find on the device. She was also supposed to be installing a hidden piece of software that she'd designed that would allow them to record any incoming or outgoing calls made. So the three of them had gone to the rooftop party at the Regent Hotel and everything had run smoothly. At least it had until he and Digg had both lost sight of Felicity. He'd made his excuses and left as quickly as he could to go and find her.
Now as he inspected the shallow gash above her right eye, he couldn't stop thinking that it hadn't been worth it. No matter what intel they were able to gather, seeing her hurt and scared wasn't worth it.
"I'm okay, Oliver," she assured him, some of the color returning to her cheeks as his thumb skimmed across her jaw.
He withdrew his hand, forcing his body to relax. She had that look on her face again. It was the same look that made him question his promise to himself to stay away from her. It was the same look he saw on her face most days. He'd been fighting his attraction to her for longer than he was willing to admit and when she looked at him with something close to love in her bright blue eyes, it made his resolve crumble.
"We'll need to stitch that cut."
She didn't respond as she rested her head on his shoulder. Her wet dress clung to her curves and he had to avert his eyes to keep from staring. He hardly noticed that she was getting him wet.
He had to let Digg take care of the cut when they'd returned to the foundry because he had been sure that he wouldn't have been able to keep his hands steady. Felicity had, however, requested that he hold her hand so he'd stood beside her, keeping his back turned, and focused on her cold, clammy palm against his. He couldn't watch as Digg methodically cleaned the blood from her face and applied a topical anesthetic.
Felicity's grip tightened.
"On a scale of one to ten, how bad is this going to hurt?" she asked, worrying her lip between her teeth.
"Try not to think about it. Close your eyes and think about something else."
She let out a shaky laugh, "Like what?"
"Where'd you get that dress?" Oliver asked, the words leaving his mouth before he can stop them.
She glanced at him without turning her head. His question had obviously caught her off guard. For a long moment, she didn't answer but when the needle broke her skin, the words tumbled from past her lips.
"La Rue," she replied, "It's this little boutique downtown. Thea told me about it actually. Why?"
He shrugged, "That one has blood on it. I owe you a new one."
She rolled her eyes, "Its fine, Oliver, really. I'm sure that I can get it dry cleaned and it'll be as good as new."
"I'd rather just replace it, Felicity, and the shoes, too."
She opened her mouth to protest but Diggle cut her off.
"Done. Not so bad, huh?"
Oliver smiled at her. She smiled back, her eyes bright as she stared at him. He had sufficiently distracted her. She hadn't flinched once while Diggle stitched her up.
"Thank you," she muttered, "Both of you. For the this-" she gestured at her cut "-and for distracting me. But Oliver, you're not buying me a new dress. If you do, I'll just return it."
She looked down at her feet where they hung over the edge of the table she sat on.
"I will take you up on the shoes though because these are pretty much useless."
Oliver tried not to be affected as he watched her swing her legs back and forth. The teal suede pumps that she wore were clearly not salvageable but she was probably right about her coral dress. Although even if she'd been able to get the blood out, he would've replaced it anyway. He couldn't imagine letting her wear anything that had been blood stained.
"Whatever you need, just let me know."
He hadn't meant to imply anything with his words. He'd only meant that he would replace her shoes and whatever else had been ruined when she'd ended up in the pool. But her eyes widened slightly as she turned to face him. Even Digg was looking at him expectantly.
He cleared his throat and released her hand. He stepped away, putting much needed distance between them.
"There's a change of clothes in the bathroom. They'll be too big on you but at least they'll be dry."
He couldn't say anything else as he walked away from her. She was getting under his skin and he couldn't let her. He couldn't risk hurting her.
When Felicity emerged from the bathroom thirty minutes later, Oliver had to bite back a groan. She was wearing the spare t-shirt and sweats as he'd suggested and the sight of her in his clothes did things to him that he wasn't exactly proud of. She padded barefoot across the room to her computers, running her fingers through her wet hair.
"Feel better?" Diggle asked her.
She shrugged, "A little. I'm just tired now."
"You should go home and rest," Oliver suggested, "Digg and I can manage for tonight."
He really didn't want her to leave but he couldn't keep his mind from conjuring up inappropriate fantasies that involved him peeling her out of his clothes. It would be best for both of them if she just went home.
She scoffed, "Oliver, no offense, but you wouldn't even know where to begin. These files are heavily encrypted and it's going to take more than a few tries with the decryption software to crack them. I'm probably going to end up doing it by hand."
He knew that she was right. Of the three of them, she was certainly the most qualified to break into Sebastian's files. She was a genius, literally, and he needed her if he was going to figure out what Blood was hiding from all of them. But seeing her standing there in his oversized t-shirt, her face free of makeup, had every nerve in his body on fire.
She was a beautiful woman, he couldn't deny that, but he could deny that he felt anything for her beyond friendship. At least he could try denying it. This whole thing with Barry Allen had him on the edge of a cliff that he wasn't sure he was ready to jump off of. On the one had he knew that he should let her go, that he should encourage her to find happiness with the kid. On the other hand, however, the idea of Felicity being with anyone else caused a tightness in his chest that made it difficult to breathe. He knew that he was jealous. He knew that he'd been acting like an ass. But he couldn't stop it. He wanted to be happy for her. He wanted to be her friend and be supportive but he wasn't able to do that because the closer she got to Barry, the more his resolve crumbled.
And Digg had seen it and had no problem calling him on it. He knew that his friend meant well, trying to encourage Oliver to just admit to Felicity that he didn't want to see her with someone else, but it wasn't that simple. Diggle understood what his life was like, how dangerous it was. Felicity had to understand that, too. She was already in danger, had already been put in harm's way, just by being associated to him.
"Did you hear a word of what I just said?"
Oliver blinked at her, realizing suddenly that they were practically toe to toe. He took a reflexive step back and out of her personal space but not before he caught a whiff of her clean hair and skin. She smelled like him. He kept a bottle of some ridiculously expensive body wash that Thea had gotten him for his last birthday in the bathroom here and she had used it. His pulse thrummed, blood pumping too quickly through his veins, and he had to close his eyes and breathe deeply to calm his rapid heartbeat. His scent on Felicity's delicate body made those fantasies rear up in him again and he took a few more stumbling steps away from him.
She followed, her face suddenly full of concern for him.
"Oliver, are you –"
"Stop, just stop. Felicity, please, just stay there."
She froze. Her blue eyes were wide and worried and she glanced over her shoulder to Digg. Diggle, however, didn't seem so concerned and Oliver knew that he understood what was happening. He shrugged at the questioning look that Felicity shot him.
"I'm going to give you two a minute," he said, turning and making his way up the stairs.
Oliver resisted the urge to follow him. He wanted desperately to run from this conversation but he couldn't make himself move. Felicity was still watching him, waiting for him to respond, seemingly oblivious to the affect that she was currently having on him. He swallowed hard and forced himself to calm down enough to talk to her.
"I'm fine, Felicity, really."
"Then why did you just look at me like I have the plague or something? Did I do something? Do I – do I smell or something?"
He shifted on his feet, his eyes rolling skyward.
"Oh god, I do, don't I?" she squeaked, "I just took a shower! I mean, I used soap and everything! Do I smell bad?"
When he looked at her again, his breath stuck in his throat. She had lifted the material of his t-shirt to her nose and the movement left a small strip of her abdomen bare. He couldn't help himself. He groaned.
Felicity's eyes suddenly flew to his and she dropped the shirt. Her cheeks burned crimson as she stared at him.
"I smell like you," she mumbled, "Shit. Oliver, I – I'm sorry. I didn't think, I – That stuff probably cost a fortune and of course it's yours so I shouldn't have used it. I should've asked but I just … the shower and I – I was cold and –"
"Felicity."
She stopped and swallowed the words that obviously wanted to continue to tumble from her lips.
For what felt like an eternity, neither of them moved.
This was it. This was the moment when Oliver had to decide whether or not he was ready to jump. Up until a couple of months ago, he had been certain that if he'd made the call and asked her to go with him, she wouldn't have hesitated. But that had been before. Before Barry Allen had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and upended the already precarious relationship that they had formed. Now he couldn't be sure that he wasn't standing on the precipice alone. He couldn't be sure that Felicity even wanted to be with him anymore. He knew that she cared about him, he felt it in the way that she touched him. He felt it when she checked him for injuries when he came back from a patrol and even when they were in the confines of their offices at QC, when her eyes met his through the glass wall separating them and she asked without asking if he was okay. Felicity was a friend, an amazing friend, but the ball had been in his court for a while now. The next move was his.
When word had come of the explosion in Central City, when they had found out that Barry had been injured and was in the hospital, he had encouraged her to go to him. He'd encouraged her to be with her friend because he thought that he could let her go. He had convinced himself a long time ago that he had nothing to offer her. He knew that he wasn't good enough for someone like her, someone so full of life and hope and light. He hadn't expected to be so consumed with thoughts of her when she'd been away. He hadn't anticipated the deep longing that had settled in the pit of his stomach when he began questioning whether or not she planned on returning to Starling City.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Oliver took a deep breath and asked the question that had been nagging at him since she'd come home.
"Are you - are you in a relationship with Barry?"
His voice sounded strained even to his own ears and he cleared his throat nervously. Felicity shifted on her feet, her eyes on the ground.
She shook her head slightly, "Barry and I are just friends."
He nodded, his arms reflexively crossing over his chest. It wasn't meant to be a defensive position but he wasn't sure what else to do. His fingers itched to touch her.
"And that's all that you want from him? You seemed to be interested in more than that a few weeks ago."
Her head came up then, her eyes hard as she glared at him.
"How is that any of your business?" she snapped.
He relaxed his rigid posture and held up his hands in surrender. He watched as she deflated slightly, her arms hanging limply at her sides. She averted her eyes. The tension between them was so thick that he could barely draw a breath. He wanted this to end, he wanted it to be easy again. He missed the way that they had been before the kid had arrived and changed everything. But he suddenly realized that maybe Barry Allen throwing a wrench into their normal relationship wasn't all bad. The easy friendship that had developed between them had opened his eyes to what was right in front of him. He saw her now, more than he ever had before, and he couldn't risk letting her go.
"I need to know that I'm not going to get in the way of something that you want. And right now, I need to know if you're more interested in a relationship with Barry… or with me."
Felicity gasped and her wide blue eyes flew to his once again. One small hand came up to cover her mouth in shock. It was evident that she hadn't been expecting those words to leave him. His inquiry was initially met with silence and that unsettled him. He waited for her to say something, to say anything.
"I … I was worried that I'd made a mistake."
He stared at her as confusion settled in. He had no idea what she was talking about. What kind of mistake? He wondered immediately if she was referring to her most recent trip to Central City. Barry had woken up not long after they'd taken down Shrapnel and she'd gone back to the hospital to be with him. He'd expected her to be gone much longer than three days but she'd left on a Thursday and had been back in the office on Monday morning. They hadn't talked about that trip.
He took a step closer to her, the scent of his body wash growing stronger as he neared her. He tried not to focus on the way his body reacted to that particular sensation.
"I told Barry that he and I were friends, that we couldn't be anything more than that because I – because I'm in love with someone else. I told him that I had to see it through, that I had to find out if it was one sided or if –"
He reached for her, one hand settling on her hip while the other circled around the back of her neck. She stepped into him reflexively, her head tipping back so that she could look up at him. He heard her sharp intake of breath as he lowered his head toward her.
"It wasn't a mistake," he assured her, "It wasn't a mistake at all. I – I know that this isn't going to be easy. I'm not good at this, Felicity. I know that I'll hurt you, I won't mean it but I will, and I really hope that you'll be patient and help me be better at this."
She was motionless for just a moment before surging up on her toes and pressing her lips to his. The kiss surprised him and he stumbled back, taking her with him this time. Her arms circled around his neck and she clung to him. That smell, the smell that had only moments ago made him desperate to get away from her, was intoxicating. Her hair, her skin, the scent of his body wash lingered like cloud around her. He couldn't help thinking that he'd like to wake up beside her on sheets that smelled like that, like the two of them mixed together, her scent and his. Because even under the hints of sandalwood and leather, she was still distinctly her.
When she pulled away gasping, he rested his forehead against hers.
"If I had known that using your body wash was all it took to get you to open up a little, I would've found a reason to shower here a long time ago," she teased.
He smiled at her. There was color in her cheeks again and her lips were parted slightly as she worked to catch her breath. Her eyes were closed, her long eyelashes fascinating him.
"I'm sorry that I've been such an ass about this," he confessed, "About everything. Can you forgive me?"
She shrugged, "I think you might have to convince me that you really mean it first."
She leaned more heavily into him and he didn't hesitate for a moment to kiss her again. He would have no problem spending the next twenty years of his life convincing her if it meant that she was finally his.