Is it too late for a Christmas mistletoe cliché fic with a twist ? ;o)

This is going to be a multi-chapter story with individuals oneshots, exploring how Oliver and Felicity know they shouldn't, but still can't help it. I already have 2 other stories written besides this one, and the rest will depend on my imagination and what will happen in the episodes when the season starts anew. I'm also open to suggestions if you nice Oliciters have ideas.

Disclaimer : I don't own anything.

Also, English is not my first language and this has not been edited ( except by me) so if there's too many mistakes let me know.

Reviews are greatly appreciated.

The Christmas party was still in full swing in the accounting department. Felicity crossed the room, stopping briefly here and there to say hello to a few people, and ignoring the knowing looks sent her way when she reached her target.

Oliver was talking with Isabel, looking like he had just swallowed a lemon.

Smiling inwardly, Felicity discreetly put her hand on his arm, attracting his attention. He turned, and the sour look became a genuine smile.

"Felicity!" he said with a little too much enthusiasm.

"I found the information you needed," she told him with a pointed look and he understood.

Arrow business.

"Great! That's great. Let's go back upstairs then."

"Come on , Oliver, it's Friday afternoon," Isabel intervened with one of her devious smiles. "Can't you give the girl a break? The fact that she's barely competent at her job doesn't mean you have to treat her like your personal slave."

Felicity felt Oliver tense beside her. "Miss Smoak is extremely competent at everything I need her to do," he answered, and Felicity cringed at seeing Isabel's barely hidden victorious smirk.

He had walked right into that one.

"Of course she is. Everyone at Queen Consolidated is well aware of that."

"Excuse me, but I'm standing right here. What is this about?"Felicity asked, tired of being ignored.

"Nothing," Oliver started, but Isabel interrupted him. "What, you mean you didn't tell her?"

"Tell me what?" Felicity asked between her teeth, anger rising.

Isabel gave her a saccharine smile. "Well I'm sure you'll find out soon enough now. Cute dress, by the way."

Only Isabel could make that simple comment sound like an insult. Not that Felicity really cared. Next to the woman,'s exotic, flawless beauty she looked awkward and she knew it.

After Isabel's departure, she turned to Oliver, who was looking anywhere but at her.

"Is this what I think it is?" she asked with a sigh.

He nodded, making that little move with his mouth that she generally found cute – but not this time.

"My old IT office, in 15 minutes" she told him before turning on her heels and leaving him alone to face the curious stares.

He wondered if putting an arrow through Isabel's lovely neck would be very much frowned upon.

"Feeling nostalgic ?"

He walked into her old office. Everyone in the IT department had left or was a the party, and the place was quiet and dark, except for the blinking lights on the wall.

She was sitting on her former desk, fidgeting with something and he came to sit next to her. She shrugged.

"No. I come here sometimes when I need to calm down. It reminds me of the time when my life was normal and boring."

"So no regrets?" he asked, and was that a hint of hope in his voice?

"Nope. But enough stalling. What was Isabel implying exactly?"

He sighed, crossing his arms on his chest. No need to sugarcoat it.

"That everyone at Queen Consolidated think we are sleeping together."

She tilted her head. "Huh."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You don't look surprised."

"Well, that explains the few 'gold-digger' comments and the condescending looks I got sometimes when I travel between floors. So no, I'm not surprised, but really, everyone? That's a huge company. How many people work here exactly?"

He smiled. "A lot."

"Right."

He uncrossed his arms, putting his hands on the desk. "I'm sorry I didn't mention it earlier," he told her with an apologetic look. "That was during our trip to Russia, and well..."

"It stayed in Russia?" she finished with a mischievous grin.

He chuckled, relieved that she was joking and apparently not that mad about it.

"Why was Isabel so venomous, by the way? Did Santa forget her?Not that she deserves to get anything anyway."

Oliver let out a little embarrassed laugh. "She...she made another pass at me and I turned her down."

Felicity processed that information, repressing the squeal that was about to escape her throat.

"Good for you," she just told him with a knowing smile.

He noticed a few tiny green leaves on the floor at her feet and motioned to her hands.

"Why are you dismembering that thing?"

She lowered her eyes. "I don't know, it was on the desk and I picked it up, I don't...Oh."

She stood up suddenly, and met his interrogative gaze. "It's mistletoe," she explained before throwing it back on the desk like it was highly toxic.

Oliver gave her an amused look.

"Well, so much for that tradition" he muttered and she blushed, realizing that by standing up she was now kind of invading his personal space. Not that he seemed to mind with the way he was looking at her, and the little Cheshire cat grin.

"Well it would be inappropriate...even though everybody think we're doing it anyway."

He raised his arm, the tip of his fingers brushing her waist, making her shiver from head to toes. And he had barely touched her!

"Well, you know what they say. If you're going to do the time..."

"You might as well do the crime," she finished in a low voice, her throat suddenly very dry.

The minute after, she was in his arms. Oliver drew her into the space between his legs so he could hold her against his chest. The kiss was slow at first, then more deep, as they took the time to explore each other's mouth. Her fingers curled at the nape of his neck and she let out a breathy moan, while his hands roamed her back, before coming to rest on her backside, squeezing it. The intimacy of that gesture abruptly brought them back to reality.

She took two steps back and they exchanged a confused look, both panting heavily.

"Wow. What was that?"

"I...have no idea," he answered, short of breath. "I guess...we needed to get this out of our system?"

"Did we?"

"What?"

"Get it out of our system."

He closed his eyes, let out a small sigh. "No."

She started to pace, her hands on her waist. She was still high from the kiss, but it had come out of nowhere and it freaked her out.

"Because I distinctly remember you telling me a short while ago that you didn't want..."

"I know," he interrupted her, remembering all too well. "I know what I said. It's still true."

She nodded, trying to hide her disappointment.

"Felicity...there are very few important people in my life, but you are one of them. I wish I had the strength to send you away and back to a tranquil, safe life, but I can't. I need you beside me and I'm not only talking about your computer skills. Any...deeper involvement would only complicate things, but mostly it would be the the kind of attention that I don't want focused on you, for your own safety."

She came back to sit next to him on the desk, but at a safe distance.

Her heart screamed in frustration, but her head knew he was right. They had priorities, a mission to accomplish, and any distraction would be an unnecessary weakness, especially for him. And their friendship was extremely important to her – and she knew it was to him too. Risking it for what could turn out to be nothing more than a pure sexual attraction was not worth it.

You keep telling yourself that, Felicity, and maybe someday you'll start believing it.

"I agree", she finally said, and for a brief instant she thought she saw her own disappointment reflected in his eyes. But it vanished so quickly that she probably had imagined it.

She looked at him with a raw honesty. "But we can't do this again. Because my heart won't be able to handle it."

"Neither will mine," he answered softly and their eyes met, both of them painfully aware that it would be easier said than done.

"We just respected a very old tradition," he offered lightly and she smiled, although it was slightly tinted with sadness.

"Nothing wrong with that," she agreed. "Merry Christmas, Oliver."

He took her hand, squeezing it. "Happy Hanukkah, Felicity."

Denial was not just a river in Egypt.

TBC...