Title: It's a Risk to Even Call It Love

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Note: A little different than my usual fluff, but I admit, I like a healthy dose of angst now and again. This was inspired (and is written for!) the amazing PuzzledHats' tumblr tags regarding Oliver's famous "because of the life that I lead, I just think it's better to not be with someone that I could really care about" line that has come up so often regarding Olicity. Even Stephen used it when explaining the finale's ILY scene and Oliver's feelings. So I had to write a little something.

Title from the Neon Trees song Sleeping With a Friend. Thanks so much if you review! Hope everyone has a great week! :)

"Felicity?"

She turns at the sound of her name, knowing exactly how far Oliver is from her before she even looks at him. It's like her body is attuned to the exact number of spaces it would take to move from where she is to where he is, and she hates that she can envision taking those steps so easily if only she was given a reason to.

She clears her throat, smiling at him cooly, not giving anything away as she tilts her head for him to continue. They're supposed to be heading to Big Belly's. Digg and Roy went to grab a table and she was finishing up a scan, unaware that Oliver was still in the shower.

Just her luck.

"I thought... we should talk about what happened the other day," Oliver says quietly, choosing his words carefully as if he's afraid to attach some ulterior motive to them.

Ah yes, the other day.

The kiss.

They had returned from a mission, a tough one that required the entire team to be on the field and to play their parts right down to the second. Felicity's role involved an on-site data transfer, a very close encounter with armed guards, one rooftop zipline excursion in Oliver's arms, and then a motorcycle ride back to the lair with Oliver driving at the speed of sound.

Well, that's what it felt like.

To be clear, she's hazy on a lot of the details, but the kiss? Oh, that she remembers. She'd turned to him in relief, muttering something about it being another close one, and she was pulled into a hug. Hugs she didn't mind. In fact, she loved hugs, and Oliver rarely initiated them, so she savored the feel of being in his arms, of feeling his breathing slow down even as she felt the racing beat of his heart. It was when he let go of her that the problem occurred.

He didn't exactly let go though. In fact, he turned his head, arms still wrapped tight around her, and inhaled her scent. She didn't know any other way to describe it, but he breathed in where she'd breathed out, and the next thing she knew, his mouth was on hers. She'd barely had time to blink, and then it was over. He was a good two feet away examining his arrows and she would've sworn she imagined the whole thing.

Except she'd felt it. She'd felt those lips on hers. She remembered thinking that his lips were chapped and he could use some chapstick, wondering if it would ruin his superhero cred if she got some Vaseline for the lair. She had just a second to experience the feel of his beard against her skin, marveling at how it felt against her cheek. The memory of that touch lingered even after he was across the room, even after Digg and Roy had joined them downstairs, even after she'd returned home alone and tried to wipe it out of her head.

Him bringing it up now? Just further confirmation she did not imagine the whole thing in a rush of post-mission adrenaline and shock.

Oliver shifts back and forth on his feet, a rare gesture of uncertainty in a man who is so composed in his movements. "I think... I think it'd be best if we just forgot about what happened."

Felicity forces a smile. "Well, I was already planning on doing that until you started this conversation, so..."

If he's taken aback by her tone, he doesn't give any emotion away, lost in his own thoughts as he carefully regards her from across the room. He takes a couple steps closer, hesitant, as if he's judging her reaction and doesn't want to spook her. When she doesn't move, he moves even closer, nodding in agreement, looking relieved she would make this easy on him.

"Good. Good," he repeats more firmly. His eyes finally meet hers as he states, "It's just better not to get involved- because who I am, what I do for the city, it's better that we don't-"

Felicity can't help the scoff of bitterness that escapes her. Oliver hears it as well and quiets immediately, frowning as he tries to decipher the words she hasn't said.

"Felicity-"

"Just stop." She shakes her head as if she can't bear to him say her name right now. "Stop. The whole danger excuse is getting old, don't you think?" When he says nothing, she continues, a rush of words exploding out of her that she's surprised she's been able to contain for so long. "I'm in danger all the time, Oliver. I'm your partner here, and you and I both know you can't keep me locked in the foundry every night. You threw me into Slade's clutches months ago for a reason, didn't you? You trust me, you need me out there even if you don't want to face the jeopardy I'm in."

"That's not fair," Oliver begins, his words fierce and his tone even more so. He pales at her accusation, at hearing her so callously say she's aware that her life could be in jeopardy any moment of any day. "Slade was different- that's- that's not fair."

She flashes back to his early days, his tagline of you have failed this city, but this time, it's Oliver who has failed her, and she refuses to cower in fear.

"You're right. It's not fair to me," she states bluntly, a little too bluntly because he blinks in surprise at her words. "If you don't want to be with me b-because you don't want to be with me," she forces herself to swallow down the bubble of insecurity crawling up her throat before she continues, "then just say that. Just say it. Don't hide behind your excuse about my safety. You're supposed to be a hero, and that's just cowardly."

Oliver looks stunned at her words, as if she's hit him with a bo staff instead of the plain and honest truth. He takes a step towards her, and she unconsciously moves back. She sees the flinch of pain on his face, sees the way his arms drop back to his sides. She tells herself not to apologize, because dammit, this is hurting her too, but the truth is, she's never been able to stand seeing him in pain, whether it's the memories of the island torturing him or a new battle scar.

"I'm sorry." It slips out before she can help herself, and the words echo in the lair in the space between them. "I just... maybe you're not ready. Or I'm not ready. Or maybe you don't even want me that way. It wouldn't be the first time someone's not interested," she adds, pushing away the bundle of insecurities that threatens to come to the surface. "Maybe it's just a fluke. But at least stop using that ridiculous excuse."

Oliver, who has never been able to deny Felicity anything, nods with great difficulty, as if he's surrendering himself to his enemies, as if it's the only way to win the war is to lose the battle, but he's never had Felicity on the opposition; she's always been by his side.

Not tonight.

"I... Okay. Okay."

Felicity lets out a sigh of relief, feeling like it's been a conversation spanning a hundred years instead of a mere seven minutes according to the clock on the wall. She nods warily, feeling more tired than she has all week, as if her body is heavy, weighed down by the turmoil in her heart. She grabs her purse and her coat, pulling it on slowly, unconsciously giving him a chance to say more, to ask her to stay.

But he doesn't.

"I'm going home. Tell the guys I'll see them tomorrow."

He doesn't say a word as he watches her leave, but she didn't expect him to anyway.

After all, if it's one thing Felicity knows best, it's Oliver and his steadfast ways.

the end ~