A/N I own nothing! Please review if you like

When Felicity asks him to come home with her, she instantly starts blushing and going on about how she didn't mean it like that, just as friends. Not that friends couldn't do that, she stuttered, but not them, because they weren't friends like that and if he was listening to her at all would he please say something and put her out of her misery?

The thing is, Oliver's not listening to her. He's brooding. It's the self-loathing kind of brooding. He's standing by the salmon ladder with an arrow dangling idly between his fingertips and Felicity's eyes boring holes in the back of his head.

Roy and Diggle have both gone home. But Felicity's still at the foundry, still with him. He's already told her three times to go home but she just sighs mournfully and goes back to her computers.

The mission went wrong. The mission failed. Which means that the Arrow failed.

A girl is dead; an innocent girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, died because he failed the city. Again.

"Are you going to stay here all night?"

Oliver shrugs.

"Oliver." There are cool fingertips on his wrist and she gently pulls the arrow out of his grasp.

Up close Felicity looks tired and bruised. Her skin's pale and her eyes are puffy and bloodshot. She heard the burst of gunfire over the comm, heard the girl scream.

"You need to go home," Oliver tells her. "You're exhausted."

"I'm not leaving you here."

"I'll be fine."

"Yeah, except when you say you're fine, it's code for you're not fine, you just don't want to talk about it," she says sharply.

"Felicity-"

"You're coming home with me. We are going to drink a bottle of wine and watch a stupid movie together. Because we're friends and that's what friends do."

He shifts his feet uncomfortably. It's not like he doesn't want to. He cannot think of anything that would be more like pure heaven than sitting on Felicity's couch, with Felicity, doing something so domestically blissful, and normal, as movie night.

"Look Oliver," she starts, and she's all worked up now, pointing a dramatic finger at him. "You don't get to say no to me, okay? You told me you loved me and then you died. You have no idea the kind of hell you put me through, and now you are coming home with me.

" And we are going to get good and drunk and watch a stupid movie, because that's what friends do when they have a bad day. Is that going to be a problem for you?"

Oliver shakes his head. "No."

Felicity snorts and throws him her keys.

xxx

When Oliver walks into Felicity's apartment she ushers him to her couch in the living room.

"Sit," she instructs.

Felicity disappears into the kitchen and comes back a minute later with a bottle of wine and two glasses. She pours them generous servings and hands him a glass.

"Drink," she says sternly.

Oliver nods and takes a sip of the wine (red, of course). Felicity turns on her tv and plops down on the couch with her laptop, toeing off her pumps.

"Okay," she says, cradling her glass in one hand and scrolling through her movie library with the other. "I'm thinking something Disney. Thoughts?"

Oliver shrugs. "I don't care. I haven't seen many movies since I got back from the island, anyway."

"That was two and a half years ago, Oliver."

"I've been kind of busy," he says wryly.

Felicity takes a large swallow of wine. "We should do something about that. Your knowledge of pop culture has become woefully outdated."

"I don't get why it bothers you that I haven't seen Breaking Bad yet."

"It's Breaking Bad! Everyone's seen Breaking Bad."

"I thought we were going to watch a movie," Oliver grumbles.

"I'm working on it. Keep drinking," she instructs him.

"Toy Story 3 is out, I've cried enough tonight," Felicity muses. "But there's Tangled, or wait, hold on..."

Felicity looks up at him and gives him a determined smile. "I found our movie."

Oliver laughs when she turns on Brave.

"Cute," he says, and she leans over to top off his glass.

Felicity shrugs. "Felt appropriate."

They get drunk. Completely shit faced, wasted drunk. When the first bottle runs out Felicity comes back with a new one and keeps pouring, and he keeps drinking.

He doesn't usually do this (get this inebriated, with a pretty girl, not since his Ollie Queen days). But a young girl is dead and Felicity is so sad and he's numb. Getting drunk has a certain appeal.

At some point during the movie Felicity shifts so she's leaning up against his chest. She's warm and her blond hair is falling out of its ponytail.

"This is nice," she mumbles, tossing back the last of her wine and leaning over him to place the glass on the coffee table.

"Yeah, it is," he agrees quietly. It's a lot more than nice. Felicity's cheeks are flushed with wine and she smells good, and she's been trailing fingers up and down his stomach for the past half hour.

"Better than being alone, right?" she says softly.

"You can say I told you so if you want," he teases.

Felicity smiles brightly. "I told you so."

He shifts a little so he's closer to her face. "You're always right. So smart."

And he pokes her right in her forehead.

"Hey!" she exclaims. "Did you just poke me?"

Oliver laughs. "I'm kind of... Felicity, I'm really drunk."

"I know," Felicity giggles. "Me too."

"Felicity..."

"Oliver."

He kisses her. Felicity's lips are waxy with lipstick and sweet from the wine.

"Oh," she says with wide eyes. She brings her mouth to his and brushes her lips against his, like she's unsure, like she's testing it.

Oliver can't read her like he normally can, he's drunk and exhausted and god, why is her skin so soft?

"Fuck it," Felicity says against his lips, and then kisses him, hard.

He reacts quickly, flipping her on her back and pinning her down with his knees on the outsides of her thighs.

Felicity blinks. "Still in control of your reflexes I see."

Oliver grins cockily. "I might be a little judgment impaired right now, though."

"No shit." Felicity reaches up and pulls on the hem of his shirt. "I want this off."

He yanks it over his head and Felicity stares.

"Can I touch?" she questions.

"Felicity, you see me shirtless all the time."

"But now I get to see you up close." Her eyes are glazed over and she flicks a hand lazily over his abs. "Wow, you're really hard. I mean, your abs are really hard, not like, the other thing. Although I guess theoretically you could be, considering you're straddling me, which is really hot by the way, and oh my god, it's worse when I'm drunk!"

Oliver grins. The babbling thing is inexplicably sexy. The alcohol has done its job, everything dark has been pushed to the edges of his consciousness. The only thing he's really aware of is her. Those plump lips, her warm heat underneath him.

He leans down to kiss her again and Felicity arches like a cat and gives him a wicked smile.

"Oliver?"

"Hmm?"

"Take me to bed."