Author's Note: So I had to put this story on hold for a long while in order to focus on other things, but after finishing season 2, I couldn't make myself stay away any longer. While the updates won't be too frequent, I am officially taking this story off hiatus. To anyone who has followed this story and waited for this update, thank you so much for your patience. If you're new to the story, then thanks for checking it out! The beginning snippet of this chapter will be from Oliver's POV before we flip back over to Felicity. Enjoy!

Oliver

The liquor had been his first mistake. Whatever the inhibitions were that had kept Oliver from acting on these odd feelings he was starting to have for his IT girl, they were forgotten as the potent alcohol rushed to his head and he crushed her to his chest in order to kiss her senseless. As he continued to shower her mouth with desperate kisses, he faintly wondered how they had gotten here.

Before this thing with Felicity had started, Ollie had thought he was done trying to hide emotions for a woman who would have been better off with anyone else but him. After whatever feelings that had existed between him and Laurel died along with Tommy, he had been content to leave things in his life the way they were. Oliver Queen didn't need love anyone. He didn't want to love anyone. Love and everything that went with it only lead to loss and disappointment, two things he was all too familiar with.

But then there was Felicity, his own personal ray of sunshine in a world filled with darkness and pain. She was the girl who had made him smile.

He could still clearly remember their first meeting. Between the nervous babbling and awkward attempts at friendliness, Oliver found himself giving the first genuine smile he had felt since returning to Starling City. It had always been like that when he was with Felicity. She could make him forget, even just for a moment, all the sadness that surrounded him. Since that moment, he had always considered her a good friend, a reliable and loyal partner who could help him save his city.

Lately, however, something had shifted between them since his return to the city, something he couldn't quite define. He wasn't sure if he wanted to define it, but he found himself focusing on things he hadn't really taken the time to notice before. Things like the way her hair would start falling from that tight pony tail she wore all the time, little tendrils escaping to caress the back of her slender neck. Or things like the shorter skirts she had started wearing that revealed more Felicity than he had ever seen before. Things like an adorable nightshirt covered in a fleet of rubber ducks that somehow made her seem sexy and adorable all at the same time. All of these were things that Oliver would rather not notice, but for some reason he couldn't make himself stop noticing.

As confused as he was by all these thoughts he was starting to have about Felicity, the only thing he knew for sure was that he was bad for her. If Felicity was the ray of sunshine, Oliver was the dark thundercloud that blocked out its cheerful light, and he couldn't bear to be the one who snuffed out Felicity's light.

So he had tried his best to keep her at arm's length and as far away as possible from the darkness inside him. He had actually managed to do a fairly good job of it until tonight when his heart had nearly stopped at the sight of a bullet headed in her direction. He hadn't taken the time to think things through before whisking her off to his deserted mansion where he could keep as close an eye on her as possible until this was all over.

He definitely hadn't been doing a good job of it when he shed his coat for her to wrap up his bullet wound, and he most certainly hadn't done a great job of it when he felt her tears splash on his bare skin. Those tears had reminded him of just how unselfish this girl was to be crying over some little bullet wound in his arm when she had nearly lost her life an hour ago.

As a result, all of these events had led to Oliver's second mistake that night. Kissing Felicity Smoak.

Even as his brain told him it was a mistake, Oliver couldn't seem to get that message to the rest of him. As he continued kissing her, the thought crossed his mind that he was proving a miserable failure when it came to keeping Felicity from getting too close, because at that moment, she was about as close to him as she could get, both his body and his heart.

Felicity

My brain wasn't really able to form too many coherent thoughts as soon as I felt Oliver's mouth cover mine. In fact, pretty much every brain cell I had ceased to function except one tiny part that kept screaming at me that I was kissing Oliver Queen. I don't really know why my brain felt the need to scream that information at me over and over again. It wasn't like I could miss the fact that the object of my longtime affection was now kissing me, not while his lips were melded so closely to mine that I could barely come up for air. Not that I wanted to come up for air.

I would have said that I had been waiting for so long for this moment to happen, but the truth was that I hadn't been waiting. Simply because I had never expected it to happen. I dreamed about it yes, fantasized even. But I had never truly expected it to happen. That was why I fully intended to enjoy every minute of it for as long as I could.

And there were definitely plenty of things about this kiss to enjoy. Oh boy, did Oliver Queen know how to kiss. Later I would probably be reminded of the fact that he had plenty of practice under his belt, but for now I was too sublimely happy to think about the long line of women who had come before me.

What had started out as frantic passionate kisses had now turned sweet and soft. Oliver's mouth had pressed hard against mine moments ago, peppering my closed lips with firm demanding kisses, but after the first few moments his desperation seemed to ease. Now, he gentled his kiss, rubbing his lips across mine in a silent invitation that I was in no mood to refuse.

The first taste of him was amazing, like a drug I could get addicted to if I wasn't careful. I could detect the strong taste of liquor on his tongue, but there was something else. It was nothing I could really put a name to, just the unique, heady flavor called Oliver Queen.

He took a few more lazy minutes exploring every nook and crevice of my mouth before moving to the wet trails on my face that had been left behind by my tears. My breath seized as I felt him kiss away the droplets on my cheeks, running his tongue gently over my cheek as if to erase the signs of my sadness. It almost made me want to start crying again, but I resisted the urge. This was the most romantic moment of my life and I wasn't going to ruin it by dissolving into tears.

Oliver pressed one last kiss to my wet cheeks and moved his mouth back to mine, lingering there for a prolonged moment that neither of us seemed to want to break. Eventually though, I felt him slip away, loosening his grip on me and easing his arms off my shoulders. He backed away slowly, and in the dim light I could make out the faint shape of his eyes through the black greasepaint.

I felt cold almost as soon as he let me go, and a little shudder moved up my arms and through my shoulders. As soon as the first shivers started, I noticed his eyes narrow in concern.

"You need to get some rest, Felicity," he said in a calm, even voice that didn't even hint at the fact that his tongue had been in my mouth seconds before.

I half expected him to say something else, but my mouth dropped open in shock when he turned around and started walking in the opposite direction. His hand reached out behind him with a crooked finger that motioned for me to follow him. I was tempted to refuse the silent order but, really, I was absolutely exhausted after everything that had happened that day.

So like an obedient little puppy I trailed behind him, rubbing my hands over the chilled bumps on my arms to keep the cold away. We went up the large flight of stairs at the entrance of the house and I continued to follow him down the labyrinth of different hallways until we came to a closed door.

For the first time since leading the way upstairs, Oliver turned back to look at me. I don't know what I was hoping to see in his eyes when he glanced back at me (passionate, searing lust, maybe?), but there was nothing there except a look of slight concern as if he was afraid I would fall to pieces any moment. To be fair, that look could have had something to do with the tears I'd blubbered all over him, but I wasn't in a mood to be fair. I expected a little something more after that kiss we'd just shared, and all I got was a look that said "you had better get some sleep before you become an emotional wreck all over again."

Oliver Queen had just rocked my world for a solid five and half minutes. From the lack of emotion in his eyes, I obviously hadn't returned the favor. A little pang of hurt blossomed in my chest at the thought, and I was horrified to find more tears threatening at the corner of my eyes.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I forced a smile. "Is this where you're locking me up for the night?"

The concern in his eyes melted away as they crinkled at the edges in amusement. "If I wanted to lock you up for the night I'd throw you in the dungeon underneath the kitchen."

My inner turmoil eased just the slightest at his joke. "Ah, vigilante humor. Nice."

Without another word, I entered the door Oliver had opened and found a giant four poster bed looming like a giant in the middle of the room. I looked back to find Oliver staring at it too, and for the briefest moment I thought I could catch a glimpse of that lust I had been looking for.

When he looked back at me though it was gone as if it had never been there at all. "There's an en suite through that door," he gestured with a nod. "I know you don't have any clothes but I'll bring something for you to sleep in. Tomorrow I'll send Diggle to get some things for you while you're staying here."

My nose wrinkled as I tried to picture big, brawny John Diggle rifling through my underwear drawer. The thought caused a short laugh to buzz through my closed lips. Oliver looked puzzled at my little burst of laughter, so I shared the humorous thought. "I was just thinking he might feel awkward going through my things, but then I realized war in the Middle East might be more traumatic than my panty drawer."

There was that flash of lust again, and this time Oliver had to clear his throat in order to answer. "Yeah, he'll probably survive. I'll go get you those clothes."

Before I could even blink, he was gone, leaving me all alone in the huge, fancy guest room. With a helpless shrug, I took his suggestion and began shedding clothes on the way to the bathroom he had pointed out. Taking my time in the hot shower, I tried to recollect my thoughts as I shampooed my hair with something that smelled way fancier than the bottle of Garnier Fructis sitting in my shower back home.

While that fantastic makeout session still took up a valuable portion of my brain function, I tried to push it to the side in order to concentrate on something else. On the way here, Oliver had said that I wouldn't be going undercover at Stellmoor anymore, but I wasn't about to go along with that order. I knew how close I was to decrypting that program, and there was no way in hell I was going to give up on that without a fight.

Oliver was going to have to lock me up for real if he was going to stop me from going in to work the next day like I planned. As I grabbed a huge, fluffy towel to dry off, I hoped Oliver had been joking before about the dungeon thing. If he knew I was planning to go back to Stellmoor, he might very well lock me up without a second thought.

When I opened the bathroom door and walked back into the room I caught sight of Oliver coming through the door with something folded in his hands. Conscious of the fact that there was nothing between us but the towel wrapped around me, my hands cinched my covering tighter as I eyed him uneasily.

His eyes slowly roamed up and down my freshly showered appearance, and I felt a tingling sensation work up my spine as he continued to look his fill. Finally his eyes came back to mine, still remarkably calm and composed considering the fact that I was standing in front of him half nude. "I brought you these," he said, throwing the folded clothes on the bed as if afraid to walk close enough to hand them to me.

I walked to the bed and lifted up a nightshirt and pair of pajama pants. "Are these yours?" I asked, clutching the offering to my chest as another added layer between us.

"I don't know where Thea keeps her things, and I didn't really feel like tearing through her room. I figured you could sleep in these for tonight. It's not like I use them anyway."

Visions of a naked Oliver Queen sleeping in a four poster bed crept though my mind before I blinked them away. "Thanks," I managed to croak out.

"Good night, Felicity," Oliver whispered softly when it was clear I had nothing else to say.

Just as he was about to leave, I worked up the nerve to ask him what I wanted to ask earlier. "Are we just going to act like nothing happened downstairs? I know you might kiss enough girls that one just blends into another after a while, but I'm in the middle of a serious dry spell in that department. Kissing, I mean," I hastened to clarify. "Not kissing girls. I don't really swing that way. I just mean that it might not be so easy for me to forget. Kissing you, I mean."

I cringed inwardly after my babbling speech. Too embarrassed to look at Oliver's reaction, I dropped my eyes to the oriental carpet underneath my feet, following the long curlicues with feigned interest.

"Felicity," Oliver's said my name somewhere past my bent head. "I don't want to pretend like nothing happened. It's just complicated."

"Complicated," I repeated the word softly. "Is that just guy code for 'I'm just not that into you'? It's ok, if you're not," I lied. "I mean it's not like I never heard that excuse before. I know I'm not like those sexy bimbos you take out all the time, so I wouldn't really blame you– "

I had been giving this entire speech to the carpet but was cut off mid-babble by a warm hand underneath my chin that forced my eyes up to look into Oliver's. "It means, Felicity, that it's complicated," Oliver stressed the last word slowly as if to make sure I wouldn't misunderstand. "Too complicated to talk about tonight. Get some sleep, and we'll discuss things tomorrow."

That still sounded ominous, but I nodded my head dumbly in agreement. With a loud sigh, Oliver let go of my chin and walked to the door. As he began to close the door behind him, his eyes caught mine one more time, and I felt those tingles start all over again when I saw the scorching heat directed at me from those blue eyes. "By the way, Felicity, you're worth ten of those sexy bimbos. Don't ever think any different."

With those last words, he was gone, leaving me alone in the dark with a silly grin on my face.

Thanks for reading. Next chapter coming soon! Any comments or follows are always appreciated.