#melfic1

“I find that people like pleasure and sex. And the high and escape my narcotics offer. Why not combine and amplify them all?  Hmm, yes, she should feel the effects in a few minutes or so. She’ll not care what you look like. Whether you’re male or female. She’ll be consumed with one goal. One need. To have sex. The “show” will be delicious to watch won’t it, Green Arrow?”

Oliver’s body went lax at the horrifying words of the maniac. He had to get Felicity help.  The hold of the two men loosened and he saw his chance.  He pulled out of their reach and quickly took them down with strategic blows to their bodies.  Then he stepped toward the Count.

“Stop! I’ll kill her,” the Count threatened as Oliver stalked closer.  

“No, you won’t,” Oliver threw a small knife, that was hidden in his boot, and its blade mortally struck its target.  The Count gurgled blood and clutched at the object now lodged deep in his throat.  

“Oliver,” Felicity murmured as he untied her and carried her out of the building.

“Shhh, you’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you,” 

They were in the middle of nowhere. A thick forest surround them as Oliver headed towards the direction of the service road where he had left his Ducati.  He’d had to hike several miles to the isolated warehouse.

Oliver had hunted the man who had kidnapped Felicity as she left her apartment.  24 hours of torment was all Oliver had known as he tore apart the city and every two bit sleazy criminal who could give him information.  John was out of town and the fear of not finding Felicity in time had turned Oliver into an unstoppable machine.

The trees and soil were drenched from the summer night’s rainfall.  The thick downpour obscured them as he carried his precious cargo into the night.  The alarms blared in the chaos behind them as the last remnants of the Counts’ men tried to find out what happened. 

“Oliver, I heard...what the Count said.  I need,..l” Felicity gasped, and curled closer to his body.  Her fingers finding their way under his hood, weaving through the hair at his collar, and around his neck.   “I’m so hot. My skin feels like it’s on fire. Oh God, I,” a shudder tore through her body. 

“I’ll get you help, Felicity. Just hang on,” 

“I...don’t think I’ll make it much fur..ther. Oliver, please,” 

“Just another mile, Felicity. And then I’ll get you to a hospi,”

“Please, I need..” Her fingers tugged harder on the thick strands of his hair. The pain brought his attention down to the woman writhing in his arms. Wisps of wet blonde curls were plastered across her flushed cheeks and clung to her glasses.  Her teeth biting into the plumpness of her lower lip and the normally vibrant blue of her eyes unfocused.

“Okay, okay, I’ve got you,” 

Oliver spotted an opening in a rock crevice.  He carried her out of the pelting rain and into the dry mouth of a cave.  He tried to set her down against the wall but she wouldn’t let go.  She all but climbed onto his lap as he turned and eased himself to the ground. Her skirt rode up till miles of gorgeous leg was exposed.  

He glanced over her head to see the cave was small and thankfully uninhabited. 

Her fingers shook as she tipped his hood back, lifted his mask off and cupped his face.  She met his gaze, “I don’t know, how much longer..I’ll be in con-trol.  You need to hel-p me. Hel-p me climax,” 

Her cheeks flushed a scarlet red as her words echoed off the cave walls. Her eyes darting between his eyes and his lips.  Her tongue peeking out as she licked her lips. Hunger and need were taking over.

“Felicity, I can’t,” Oliver swallowed hard and tried to get his mind around what she was asking. Her aroused body trembled uncontrollably in his arms and her hips ground down against his. “Fel-li-city,”

They both groaned from the friction. His body instantly responded to the woman in his lap.  He’d been crazy about Felicity from the moment he’d met her. To say he hadn’t ever thought of them, together, would be a lie.  But not like this. Not when she wasn’t in control of her decisions.

“I’m sorry, Oliver,”  Felicity whispered against his lips. Her lower body moving sensually over his growing length. Her breaths increasing as her mouth brushed against his, beckoning him to open for her, once and then again.  He opened his mouth to say something and she swept her tongue in and the taste of honey and woman exploded across his taste buds.  

Every moment of pain, grief and torture of his past led to this moment.  She was exquisite and he couldn’t stop the groan that escaped.  Intense sensation, ecstasy like nothing he had ever felt before - spread through his body like lightning.  He bent into the kiss and took over.  Luscious lips, teeth and tongues met and surged.  She was paradise, heaven.  His nirvana.  It was too much and not enough all at the same time.  A soft whimper of pleasure and the tightening of her thighs against his brought him back from the edge.

It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he needed to stop.  Oliver grabbed a hold of her ponytail and pulled his lips away. She chased after his mouth till he held her firmly within his arms and leaned his forehead against hers.  They took a moment trying to get back under control.

“Take...ho-ld of my hands and help me. I know wh-at I’m asking,” 

“I don’t want to hurt you. I never want to hurt you,” Oliver said, hoping she could hear all that he meant; I care for you, I love you and I wish I could touch you for the first time when we were both ready. Truly ready. 

“You’d never hurt me. Do this for me,” she said, holding his gaze as she took her glasses off and set them on the floor of the cave. Her unsteady movement causing her warm center to notch perfectly against his leather covered erection.  He watched her lashes brush her skin as her eyes closed from the pleasure of that pressure and her lips opened in a ragged sigh.  She was breathtaking.

Oliver lost the battle.  She was everything to him.  He would respect her as much as was possible at a time like this.  He would get her off.  Her body shook with the strength of her need as the drug forced its way through her veins.  He pulled off his gloves and took hold of her violently trembling hands.  She guided them to where she needed them most. 

Her light pink shirt was translucent from the rain. The delicate lace of her bra accentuated her curves. Lush curves, so damn, feminine. She placed his hands on her breasts and moaned as she sat up straighter into his touch.  Oliver could only feel and watch, as this beautiful woman took from him what she wanted.  

She slid one of his hands down her torso and squeezed the other over her breast till he understood what she needed. 

Together they put his right hand on the skin of her exposed thigh and slid it under her skirt till it trailed along the silk of her underwear.  

“Yes,” she sighed as his thumb found her center.  A small cry came from her lips as he rubbed the scorching outline of her sensitive folds through the satiny cloth.  Slow and easy. Up and down.  Slow and easy, “That feels s-o good.”

She was killing him.  Oliver molded and squeezed her breast, finding her hardened nipple through the layers of clothing and applied pressure to it, while keeping up the erotic massage of her pulsing sex.  

“More, please,” Felicity moaned as she lifted her hips and pushed against his fingers.  

A  deep, low growl reverberated through Oliver’s chest when his slid his thumb under the edge of her panty and it sank into her saturated slit.  She was so wet. So tight. He added another finger pumping them in and out, as she rode his thick digits. Her hips quickened, her body undulating, moving faster as she chased the pleasure, “So good, Oliver.”

He pushed his hips up and the added pressure of his rock hard bulge set her off.  Her head fell back and her body clenched taut and shuddered above him.

He had been around the world and had never seen anything more magnificent than Felicity coming apart in his arms. 

He slid his fingers from her body and enveloped her into the security of his embrace.  She melted into him.  He ignored the ache and need of his own body to take care of her.

“Rest now,” Oliver cooed into her ear.  Her ragged breaths easing as the rise and fall of his chest comforted her.  They breathed as one. 

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but the storm outside still raged.  Felicity slept and he prayed the drug had run its course and she would forgive him.  Her friendship meant the world to him. What would he do if she no longer felt she could be around him? The memory of what they did, together, would stay with him forever.  

“Oliver?” Felicity stirred on his chest.  She placed her hand over his heart and raised her face to look up at him. “Hey,” 

“Hey,” he whispered back, and watched a small, tentative smile spread across her lips.  Her palm rubbed soothing circles over the organ that only beat for her. 

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“Are you, okay?” Oliver replied softly, as he lifted a hand and gently swept some loose curls behind her ear. His fingers lingered over the softness of her cheek, reluctant to stop touching her.  She hadn’t moved away in disgust. She still looked at him with her usual warmth and…something, more.

She nodded her head and nervously caught her lip between her teeth.  “Forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive.  If the Count wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him again,”

“Shhhh,” Felicity laid her forehead against his jaw. “Let’s forget the ugliness.  Let’s remember the beautiful.”

“The beautiful?” 

“The beautiful. You, finding me.  Keeping me safe. You, touching me,” 

He shook his head, as feelings of guilt, for not protecting her more, and the memory of what she felt like under his hands rose and wrecked havoc within him. 

“Yes, Oliver. I choose to remember what you made me feel, as beautiful.  Because it was. I...we’ve never had the best timing. You and I.  And, I’d like to change that.”  The slender fingers over his heart, that Oliver loved to watch fly over keyboards, moved across the butter soft leather and fiddled with the zipper of his suit. 

He watched her lower her eyes and nibble at her lower lip again. He wanted suck and lathe at the pink, succulent skin.

Her blue gaze, now clear, sharp and determined, rose to his. “I love you,”

Oliver froze. Three words. Three words that tilted and then righted his world.  The lonely heart in his chest was now completely and totally owned.  Her name was seared into it. 

“And this isn’t the drugs talking.  This is me.  A girl, sitting in a boy’s lap, telling him how she feels,” her lopsided grin radiant as she sat up in his lap waiting to see what he would say. 

She was sunshine and joy and he was so tired of denying what he felt for her.  He knew he would never be good enough for her, but she made him want to try.  She made him want so many things.  

He cupped her face, her beloved face, and he kissed her.  Gently he sipped, he coaxed, he pulled from her everything she was willing to give.  Then he devoured and consumed and she hummed in pleasure as she gave as good as she got.  

His fingers thread through her hair, taking the rubber band off, letting her damp curls fall over his arms.  The familiar fragrance of her shampoo warming his heart.  She was familiar, in so many ways, but also foreign and mysterious.  And if she allowed it, he would spend the rest of his life “learning” her.

“I love you too,”

“I know,” she replied, with a smirk and a cute tilt of her head. 

 “You knew?” 

“Well, I hoped,” Felicity corrected, whispering somberly,  “I hoped.” 

She had hoped.

A moment passed before Oliver could find his voice, “I hoped, too.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Lord, help me,” he mumbled under his breath. Not another crazed debutante, who thought she was in love with him, attempting to sneak into his room.  He’d had his share of misguided attempts over the years.  As one of the most sought after bachelors of the ton, Oliver had to be very careful.  Matchmaking mothers and eager daughters doth make an interesting season.

“Oliver?” came a familiar voice, its normally melodic tone, now full of disbelief and sharp reprimand. “Is that you?”

Is that you? Was he still dreaming? It couldn’t be, Felicity, sneaking into his bedroom.  The Lady Felicity Smoak, younger sister of Oliver’s best friend and the woman he was secretly, hopelessly and completely in love with, was not this reckless.  She was in fact, one of the most intelligent, steadfast and kind women he had the pleasure of knowing.  He could only fault her for one thing.  She could not see that his heart was utterly hers, had been for a very long time and would always be.

Another frigid gust of wind came through the open balcony doors, ruffling tendrils of her normally proper chignon that had fallen loose in her struggle with his curtains.

Even now his fingers rubbed together with the typical want to reach out and touch her; to see if her tresses were as soft as he thought they were.  

Her glass spectacles sat askew on the bridge of her nose and twigs and winter jasmine petals were caught in the fabric of her winter cape.  She was breathtakingly beautiful.

And apparently, she was extremely reckless.

What adventure was she up to?  For as long as they had known each other, since she was 10 and he and her brother were 14, Felicity was always involved in something. Either it be a scientific experiment or original play from one of her many books or mechanisms of human nature; she was in constant motion.  Her mind racing almost too fast for her words to catch up. Almost.  Her enthusiastic babbling was well known amongst her closest friends and family.

“Yes, of course it’s me.  Who else would it be, in the middle of the night, in my bedroom?”

She stilled, one of the few times Oliver had ever seen her entire body come to a stop, “Oh dear, um, did you say, ‘your bedroom’?”

”Fe-li-ci-ty,” Oliver said, as he gave up the idea of being left alone to his dreams of her.  He stood up, wrapped the silk sheet around his naked body, and stalked towards her.  

“This isn’t your bedroom.  I specifically counted three windows from the chimney.  This is your library,” she said, as she calmly re-adjusted her glasses with all the aplomb of a woman who thought she was in the right.

Unbelievable.  Oliver shook his head and chuckled under his breath.  This explanation was going be very, very interesting.  He wondered if his state of undress had even registered with her yet.   It had certainly registered with him.  The slinkiness of the bed sheet chafed against him as it slid along his already over-sensitive skin.  His awareness of her always made his body raw.  Every cell in his body screaming to touch her.

“I would know if I was in my library.  It’s the third room from the ‘west wing’ chimney.  And by the way, why are you climbing up my trellis in the middle of the night?”

Oliver’s body surrounded her as he leaned forward and closed the balcony doors.  The curtains floated down sealing them in secluded moonlight.  

The fire in his room had long since burned down to a low radiant glow.  He watched as a deep blush bloomed across Felicity’s cheeks and down the elegant line of her neck as she finally realized how naked he was.

He really should put on a robe or a shirt, but damn it…he was tired, frustrated and ravenous for her.   He wanted her to see him for the man he was.  Not the man she thought him to be.  

The scent of heated jasmine mixed with the seasonal fresh pine and holly, his room decorated for the Yuletide holiday season, filled his lungs as he took a deep, fortifying breath trying to stem the need to close the last few inches between them.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” a breathless whisper brushed against his neck and his body went hard.  He groaned internally as the softness of her voice reminded him of the sighs she’d made in his dreams as he pleasured her.

Their bodies swayed closer as he looked down and became lost in the stunning blue of her eyes.  This was dangerous.  He was already holding onto the last threads of his control around her.

He stepped away and grabbed a hold of the bed sheet, that was resting precariously around his hips, before his body gave away just how aroused she made him.

Bloody hell, this woman would be the death of him.  And yes, he had been ignoring her.  Not well, but he had tried.  He thought he had escaped her inquiring glances by leaving the Christmas Eve ball early.  

A month ago, Felicity had decided she needed to help him recapture the eye of the woman he loved.  Little did she know that she had the identity of that woman totally wrong.  

At the beginning of the season, Oliver had tried to move on from his hopeless love for Felicity, by courting, the Lady Eliza Thornton.   He had been miserable.  Every moment spent with the wrong woman had hurt his already tender and bruised heart.

One dance and a walk in the park had shown both he and Lady Eliza that they made good friends and nothing more.  In fact, his brief courtship had roused the interest of the man Eliza truly wanted and Oliver had gladly stepped aside and wished them the best.

But now, the ton and Felicity thought Oliver still had a chance to win Eliza back.

All in all, it was a mess.  Oliver had been trying to stay away from Felicity’s good hearted efforts, but it would seem she was on a mission.  With the thought of her wanting to help him, find love with someone else, intense pain seared his soul.  

Oliver knew he was notorious.  The frolicking ways of his youth had earned him the legendary title of Rake, but as his admiration and respect for Felicity had matured into love, he had stopped all that behavior.  And that personal devotion to her had gone unnoticed below society’s and Felicity’s impressions of him.  

She saw him only as a friend.  And if he ever lost her friendship and regard, he could not bear it.

He was in a constant battle between leaving her alone or kissing her senseless.  The more time she spent with him the closer he was to losing the war of good intentions.  

“My maid, Martha, knows your maid, Margaret.  They have been friends for years. Perhaps friends since both their first days in service to our families.  They gossip worse than the ton.  And drat, I must have had their hastily drawn map to your library turned the wrong way.”  

At Oliver’s bemused look, Felicity just kept on talking. “Oliver, you truly have been trying to avoid me haven’t you? I sent you two notes this week arranging to meet you in your library after the ball. I swear, it’s as if you don’t wish to win Lady Eliza back at all.”

He may have just reached a surrender.

“It’s because I don’t want her back,” he growled, as he ran his fingers through his dark, thick hair.

“But, you agreed when I offered to help,”

“I did not agree,” he responded quietly.  

“But you didn’t say no.  And ever since then, you’ve been avoiding me.  Don’t you want to be happy?”  Felicity asked in confusion.  “You are one of my dearest friends and you deserve happiness.”

And at Oliver’s continued silence she repeated, “Oliver?”

“...she isn’t the woman I love,”

“What? But,…you courted her. And you have never courted, anyone,” Felicity whispered in bewilderment as she stepped closer and lifted her hand.  “Wait, you said she isn’t the woman, …is, is there someone else?” her last words spoken in a voice so small and so tenuously vulnerable.

Her breaths quickened and her chest rose and fell faster, almost touching his.  

She had no gloves on.  Her fingers hovered, slightly shaking, above his golden skin and her heated gaze slid over his broad shoulders and the taught, defined muscles of his chest and stomach.  Oliver’s body burned from her attention and their bodies hummed with their scandalous proximity.  The air went heavy with heady, acute awareness.  

He watched her lick her lips before she looked up at him and the undisguised hunger he saw in her eyes shook him to the core.  She wanted him.  Good god, she wanted him.

He lost the entire, god damn war.

“Oliver?” Felicity’s voice quivered with wonder and hope as if she sensed something incredible was about to happen.  

He reached for her.  He finally reached for her.  

Oliver cupped the back of her neck and pulled her flush against her his body.  

The both moaned as their bodies touched.  Softness melted against hard maleness.   Her hand was caught between them and now lay over his heart.   He swore the entire world must hear it beating out of control.  

His hands slid into the thickness of her hair.  Pins flew everywhere as he finally touched the luxurious weight and her hair fell in fragrant waves over her shoulders.  The scent of jasmine would forever be hers.

Felicity’s eyes closed and her body shuddered against his.  

“Felicity,” Oliver watched as her passion heavy eyes fluttered open at his voice and Oliver allowed his feelings for her to show.  “The woman I love, is you,”

“Me?” Felicity whispered, as joy and love swirled in her eyes.  

Could his dreams come true?  How long had she cared for him like this?

“I’ve been a fool.  I was so afraid of losing your friendship.  The small part of your heart that I had, that...I didn’t, couldn’t show you how I really felt.  It’s always been you, Felicity.”

“Oliver...I have loved you, for forever. I can no longer remember when I did not.  I’ve always wanted you.  I never thought, you, wanted me.  And then you turned to Eliza,”

“Forgive me, please...I never meant to hurt you. Never. I didn’t feel I was worthy of you,”

“Oh, Oliver,” she said as she soothingly rubbed her palm over his heart and Oliver placed his forehead against hers.  

Their hearts and eyes met and all of their pent up want and need took over.

Oliver took her lips in a kiss that was as gentle as warm summer rain, exhilarating as a storm over the moors and as addictive as the most divine confection.

Her mouth opened at his sensual coaxing and he tasted heaven.  Her essence.  Her love.  

Felicity’s hands traveled up his torso and into his hair, holding onto him, as he showed her the decadent advantages of loving and being loved by a Rake.    

A little while later, he reluctantly pulled his head back, allowing them both to catch their breath.  He watched her mouth curve into a smile more radiant than any he had ever seen before.  He was going to shower her with all the love he had in him and if she’d have him; he was going to marry her.

“I need to take you home now, my love, before I can no longer be a gentleman,” Oliver groaned as he brushed his lips against hers once more.  “And then, at exactly 10 am, I’ll be right back there to ask you a very important question.”

Felicity’s smile grew even larger and incandescent as she nodded her head.  “Merry Christmas, Oliver.”

“Merry Christmas, Felicity.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Satellite heat images had confirmed their target was located on the second floor of the three story building.  Intel revealed multiple enemy combatants were left for overnight guard duty of the teacher. Night time insects and a lone dog barking in the far distance were the only sounds that could be heard as the Seals surrounded the back of the building.  

“Alpha team in position,” Oliver quietly spoke into his head gear microphone as he signaled his men for entry.  

“Bravo team ready,” came the response from the second Seal team embedded at their rendezvous point.    

Entry into the building was made and Oliver and his Seals flooded the stairwell in close perimeter single file.  Quick, sure footed steps were taken with rifles held at nose level and fingers on triggers. The bottom floor was cleared, but as Oliver rounded the corner of the second floor an enemy combatant met him with a raised a gun.  Oliver released short muffled bursts of bullets through his rifle’s silencer and the man fell to his death.

Two other combatants were immobilized as the team split off and three Seals continued up towards the third floor and Oliver and two others found the target’s room.  Oliver met his teammate’s eyes and nodded before opening the door and stepped to the left in the room while his second in command, Petty Officer John Diggle entered to his right and Petty Officer Harper kneeled in the middle.   They all swept the room with their rifles.

“Target found,” Oliver said into his mic as he stepped closer to the woman tied to a chair and hunched over.  Her long hair covered her face and torso as it hung from her bent head.  She had not moved at their entry and Oliver slowly stepped closer.  

“Elizabeth.  We’re Americans here to rescue you,”

A low moan came from the woman as she slowly lifted her head and that’s when Oliver spotted the bomb vest on her chest.

“Bomb vest. Repeat, bomb vest.” Oliver urgently relayed through his mic to his teams.

“Please,” Elizabeth gasped through bruised, chapped lips as her fear filled eyes pleaded with Oliver to save her.  “Upstairs.”

At her words, Oliver immediately walked back towards the door and spoke into the mic, “Merlyn, third floor status.”

“Two rooms cleared. Proceeding to third,”  

Thumps could be heard from the ceiling above Oliver as Petty Officer Merlyn and two other Seals dealt with combatants on the third floor.

“He’s triggered it.  Get out. Now!”  Merlyn screamed into his mic as one of the fallen enemy released a bomb trigger that was held in his hand.

“Run. Run!” Oliver screamed as he pushed Diggle through the door.   Oliver could feel a wave of heat and searing pain slashing across his back as the force of the explosion propelled him on top of Diggle.

The pain was excruciating and a loud ringing noise echoed in Oliver’s ears.  Diggle eased Oliver off his body and started speaking to him as he checked Oliver’s body for wounds.  Oliver could see Diggle’s lips moving, but could not hear anything but the awful ringing.  

Debris, fire and smoke came from the room behind them that no longer had a ceiling nor a floor.  It was one big hole.  Diggle lifted Oliver up and dragged him towards the stairs.

Oliver drifted in and out of consciousness as Diggle and Harper dragged him down and out of the building.  The burning building was drawing enemy from all corners of the town.

Diggle lifted Oliver over his shoulders and as Harper guarded their backs they all ran towards the rendezvous point.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oliver woke from his nightmare to the sound of waves crashing on the beach.  It eased the chaotic drumbeat of his racing heart.  He swore he could still hear the haunting screams and smelled the burning flesh of his dead friends and Elizabeth Lance.  It had been over 18 months since that fateful mission that claimed three of the best men Oliver ever knew and the innocent life of a school teacher from Tennessee.

He tried to rub the ache from his tired eyes as his heartbeat and breathing slowed.   Sheer white curtains billowed on the ocean breeze that flowed through his open bedroom sliding doors.  The warm wind drifted over his bare body and the scent of salt and sand filled his lungs.

He hadn’t had a nightmare in a few months and thought he had left them to the past, but they always found their way back to him.  It had taken up to a year for Oliver to recover from his wounds and another seven found him no longer in the field with his men.  He had taken a position at the Naval Special Warfare Training Center in Coronado, California and now trained soldiers to become Seals.  It was a job he was thankful for.  It gave him a reason to get up each morning.  It gave him a purpose.  The guilt and the ‘what ifs’ from the tragedy never went away.  His military psychiatrist as well as his friends and family spoke of time healing.  They spoke of forgiveness too, but Oliver was the lead in that last mission and forgiveness...well, he had not allowed himself to have it.  Four young kids would never see their fathers again because he hadn’t taken care of them.  He hadn’t brought them home.

He got out of bed, pulled on a pair of swim shorts, and walked out towards the deserted moonlit stretch of beach in front of his house.  So many nights ended this way for him.  He ran into the cool pacific waters and dove into its depths.   Its strong currents kept his body, mind and attentions on just the rhythm of swimming.  His legs kicked and his arms lifted into a familiar cadence of strokes, once, twice, breathe.  Once, twice, breathe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that day, Oliver walked through the grounds of the BUD/S (Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL Training) facility headed to a scheduled weapon’s class.  News had swept across the teams that some new tech was going to be introduced to the ranks.  New tech was always looked at with a bit of reservation until proven in the field.  Until your gear worked perfectly and didn’t jam, its aim true, and it brought you home...it was only another tool.

He arrived at the outdoor sniper range to see many of his fellow instructors already there talking bullshit or ruminating over the soldiers in their care.  The current Seal class was in its last days of their Third Phase (Land Warfare) which included land navigation, small-unit tactics, rappelling, military land and underwater explosives, and weapons training.  Within days the cream of the crop, soldiers who had made it through a grueling 7 months of the highest military training, would be graduating.  Oliver was damn proud of the group of soldiers who would be going into harm’s way, when called upon by their country, as prepared and ready as Oliver and his fellow Seals could make them.   This was Oliver’s way of giving back to the men and women who served beside him.  His way of instilling and passing on a code of honor that served as a shoreline and compass that guided his Seals home.  He needed his Seals to come home.

“Queen.”

“Dig,” Oliver greeted his fellow instructor and long time friend, Chief Petty Officer John Diggle with a smirk and handshake. “A new toy for us?”

“One of my favorite things is getting to play,”  joked the tall, solid wall of muscle.  Dig had an impressive body, containing the biggest heart, that carried an injured Oliver two miles upon his shoulders out of a hot zone gone wrong.  Oliver owed him his life and Dig would have his gratitude and friendship to the end of the line.

“Lyla is worried about you,”  

“Why?” Oliver responded with great affection for John’s wife.  Lyla was a wonderful woman who Oliver was grateful had been willing to marry a man whose first obligation would be his country.  Being married to a soldier was one of the toughest jobs in the world.  He envied John and Lyla’s love.  It was special and it was one Oliver wished for one day.  But today was not that day.  Oliver was still a mess.  How could he offer anyone, himself, when he was still trying to heal the broken pieces?  How could he bring a person into his life when he didn’t deserve to have one?

“She thinks its time,”

“Time? For what?”

“For you to start dating again.  No, no, listen. I agree with her,”  Dig said, with teasing mischief in his eyes. “Just, maybe dip a toe into the water.”

“What am I, a child learning to swim?”  Oliver shook his head at the Dig’s turn of phrase.  He was a fraken Seal. He didn’t dip his toe...he dived in with elegant precision.  He just...couldn’t.

“Attention!” was shouted and Oliver and the rest of the men came to sharp attention.

“At ease,” Master Chief Blackthorne commanded, as he walked onto the sniper pit with a few people following behind him.  

A blonde ponytail was the first thing Oliver saw as a petite, attractive woman, wearing safety glasses, came to stand beside the Master Chief.    She was dressed in combat boots, tan desert military camo fatigues and a red shirt with a small logo of Arrow Technologies on its sleeve.   She was beautiful.  Soft curves framed by an athletic body and sharp blue eyes that displayed a combination of intelligence and excitement.   Oliver could feel her low hum energy all the way from where he stood at the back of the group of instructors.

“I wanted to introduce Ms. Smoak and her weapon’s team from Arrow Technologies.  She will be presenting their newest sniper rifle and I’m sure you all will be as impressed as I am.  Miss Smoak.” Master Chief Blackthorne said as he stepped back to allow Felicity to take over.

“Hello Gentlemen,”

“Ma’am,” replied the instructors in unison.

“Please, call me Felicity and my team members are Caitlin and Juliana.  First, I wanted to say what an honor it is to be able to present a weapon to you that we hope will become one with your bodies, allow you to remain safe and accomplish your missions.”

Her voice, melodic, precise and soothing went over some impressive statistics as her team set up a long table with several large weapon cases.   She turned to open one of the cases and Oliver’s breath caught and his body hardened with swift desire.  Ms. Smoak had a gorgeous ass that was showcased to perfection in what was normally unflattering fatigues.  He felt guilty as hell for his unprofessional thoughts and got his body and his mind quickly under control right before she turned back around and their eyes met.

Oliver felt like he was hit with a lightning bolt.  Her eyes widened briefly as if she felt the intense connection too.  Her gaze, brilliant blue darkening with interest, felt like a caress across his hungry senses and all he wanted to do was stroke her right back.  

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“No?”  she asked nervously, at his silence, absently chewing on her lower lip.  

“Yes,” Oliver whispered, as he reached over, finally giving in to temptation, and ran his thumb across the tender, glistening plumpness of her mouth  He drew his digit slowly over its sumptuousness, just enjoying the feel of her.  She trembled from his touch.   She had taken him by surprise this incredible woman.  Out of the blue and into his life.  He wanted to give her more.  He wanted...

He moved to gently take off her glasses, giving her time to move away or change her mind, and then he pulled her ponytail free.  His hands threaded themselves through the luxurious waves of gold and at her moan of pleasure he cupped the back of her head.  

“Yes,” he said again, with singular intensity, before taking her lips in a kiss that wasn’t gentle or easy.  Oliver had been wanting her and fighting it.  He wasn’t fighting it any longer.   He was by nature dominant and he was hungry for her.  She moaned into the kiss and to his delight fought him for control of it.  Her mouth was lush, hot, and Felicity returned as much unleashed passion as he gave.  

She kept the kiss going even as she got up on her knees and straddled him.  They both groaned as her curves melted against the chiseled muscles of his chest and thighs.   She released his lips, leaned back in his lap, and smoothed her hands down the soft material of his t-shirt.  

“Is this okay?” she whispered, as her hands slid under the cotton hem.

“Completely and utterly,” Oliver groaned as her hands traveled up along his rock hard abs and the broad expanse of his muscular chest.

She tugged his shirt up and he helped her pull it off.   Her hands immediately returning to his skin and she raked her nails gently down over the contours of body. “Omgawd, you feel as good as you look,”

Even though it killed him to sit still, Oliver let her look her fill and touch him all she wanted.  Was there anything sexier than knowing your partner was as ravenous for you as you were for them?  But then her fingers found the ridge of a scar that ran up his back and over his left shoulder.  Oliver wasn’t ashamed of his wounds.  They told a tale of his life whether it be good or bad.

She leaned forward and pressed the tenderest of kisses along it.  It felt like a benediction and he lost his self control.  He took a hold of the curls at the nape of her neck, pulled on them, and lifted her face for his kiss.  

He slid his tongue between her lips and mint chocolate chip exploded across his taste buds.   His hands slid down her back and molded over the curves of her ass.  

God, he loved her curves.  

“Oliver,” Felicity groaned against his lips as he squeezed her glorious flesh.  

“Feel me.  This is what you do to me,” Oliver whispered as he lifted his hips and rocked his hardness against her center.  

Felicity pushed down on the hard ridge between his hips as he pushed up and they ground their lower bodies against each other, till Oliver thought he’d lose his mind from the pleasure.  The friction was so damn good.   She felt so damn good.  She was like liquid fire in his arms and he wanted to burn forever.    

The sensuality of what they were doing, the aching need that was being let loose and fed, was overwhelming.  

“Oliver, I..I, ahhhhh,” her head fell back as she shook from the force of her orgasm.  Oliver had never seen anything more beautiful.   He brushed strands of hair from her eyes as he watched her relax in his arms.  

His heart swelled with tenderness and something more for this remarkable woman.

Her hips hugged his as he stood and carried her into the house and to his bed.

~~~~~~~

Felicity’s hair fanned out across Oliver’s pillow as he laid her on his bed.   The sheets felt cool under her hands as the rest of her body heated back up in a frenzy.  She watched him, from beneath desire laden eyes, as he took off the rest of his clothes and stood before her...an Adonis in the moonlight.  

She would remember what he looked like in his naked splendor till the day she died.

He walked to his side table and took out a small packet from the top drawer.  She heard the crinkling of a wrapper then watched him palm his heavy, thick penis and stroked himself once, twice before sliding on the condom.   It was wickedly carnal, heady and she wanted to be the one doing the stroking.  She wanted to be the one to make him feel good.

He was long, hard and he was all hers.  

He kneeled on the mattress and reached for the waistband of her shorts.  Her stomach trembled as his fingers skimmed across her abdomen and he unbuttoned and pulled off her shorts and panties.   She lifted her t-shirt off and then unhooked her bra and threw them somewhere behind him.

They shared a grin at her eagerness, but then their smiles disappeared as need took over.  He leaned over her and they both groaned as skin slid sensually over skin.  

“Felicity,” he whispered reverently, as the soft mounds of her breasts rubbed against his chest as she wrapped her arms around him.   She hugged him as she nuzzled her face into his neck and relished the feel and scent of him.  Coconut sunscreen and man.

“Oliver,” she whispered back, overcome with the emotions he made her feel.   She curled her legs around his hips as he slid his throbbing member sensuously through the slick folds of her sex.  They both groaned from the decadence.  Just through her folds.  Teasing, wanting, pleasure.  Her need coated him.

Blood pounding through her veins was all she could hear as her senses followed the erotic path of his calloused hand as it skimmed over the curve of her hip, the slight indention of her waist and up her chest to cup a needy, sensitive breast.   She let out a low moan when he dipped his head and took her tight, hard nipple into his mouth.   He suckled and licked.  Each draw from his mouth heightened her craving for him.  And when he scraped his teeth along its tip she went wild.  She pulled at the short strands of his hair and chanted his name over and over and over.   He was going to be the death of her.  

He released his treat with one last lick and she met his hungry gaze as he rose above her.  He cupped her face and took her lips in a soul shattering kiss.   Her back arched and she couldn’t breathe as he began to enter her.  He filled her in one slow, exquisitely steady push.  

“So good,” his voice, thick and raspy, as he buried himself in her.  She had never felt so full, so owned, as she did in that moment.  

She tightened her inner muscles trying to hold him even closer if she could.   She was greedy and couldn’t get enough.  “Yes, Felicity.  Just like that.”

Nothing held him back as he pulled almost completely out of her and then pushed back in.  Her hands slid down the muscles of his scarred back while he spread her thighs wider and she held on for the ride. He re-captured her lips as he made love to her.  As he worshiped her.  

~~~~~~~~

Oliver woke to the sun high in the sky and a warm, soft Felicity in his arms.  He had slept through the night without a nightmare.  He had slept without his guilt holding him.  Instead, it had been Felicity who held him.  

She snuggled closer into his side and he wanted this feeling of contentment to last forever.  

Could he move forward? Would he hurt her if he failed?  She was such a special person and he didn’t want to hurt her.

She had been fearless last night and…

He looked down at her and watched her sleep.  A tender smile spread across his face as he took in her sex mussed hair and pink love marks on her skin from his lips, his tongue, his desire.  

He didn’t think he could let her go even if he tried.  

He would take their friendship and their relationship, and at a day at a time, he would give it his all.  

Oliver closed his eyes and when he brought forth the faces of his friends and Elizabeth, he made them a silent promise.  He promised them he would live in a way that would be worthy of their memory.  He would try.

Felicity begun to stir and she stretched deliciously against him.  She kissed his chest before peering up at him with a smile.

“Mmm, morning. A gorgeous Oliver in bed with me...life is good.”

“Morning, and yes, life is very, very good,” Oliver replied, as he pushed her onto her back and proceeded to show her exactly how much better ‘good’ could get.

~~~~~~~

10 months later

Felicity’s laughter floated into the kitchen on an ocean breeze.  Oliver set down the bag of chips he held in his hand and smiled.  He watched her talking on the patio, with his parents and her father, as David checked on the steaks on the grill.  

She was simply stunning.  A beautiful person in and out.  He glanced around the house and took in the changes that showed their shared life.   DVDs of Firefly and 9 seasons of the X-Files now lined his entertainment center, splashes of purple colored throw pillows in the living room and a vintage Errol Flynn Robin Hood movie poster hung in the hallway.  

She had effortlessly become his best friend.  Felicity Smoak, weapons and beer opener expert, was the love of his life.  Their courtship wasn’t always easy.  Oliver still had his bad days where guilt still came in waves, but their ripples...he could ‘Live’ with.   And they reminded him to be grateful for those he loved and those who loved him.  

Life was good.

~~~~~~~~~

The End.

~~~~~~~~~

She was even more beautiful with her hair down in waves.  She wore brown frame glasses that made the blue of her eyes stand out even more and a pretty summer dress that floated over her knees as she walked behind him.  Gone was her work persona and in its place was a woman who playfully asked him for help against the avalanche of male testosterone that filled the bar.  

She’d accepted his “help” and his hand.  Oliver nervously rubbed the fingers of his left hand together as he led her to the dance floor with his right.  She made him nervous.  She excited him.

She went easily into the loose circle of his arms as he turned and pulled her near.  Even with her wedge heels on, the top of her head only came up to his chin.

“Hello,”  their eyes met as they swayed to the reggae music playing on the jukebox.

“Hello,”

“I’m Oliver. Oliver Queen,”

“Felicity, Felicity Smoak,”

“I know,”

“You know?”

Oliver couldn’t help but smile at her question and he had to fight the urge to smooth away the adorable furrow of confusion on her forehead.

“You introduced yourself during the presentation,”  

“Oh, yes, I did didn’t I,” she chuckled.  “I’m sorry, I’m a bit...nervous,”

At her refreshing candor Oliver admitted, “Me too.”

“You are?”

“I’m a bit rusty...talking to a beautiful woman,” Oliver watched mesmerized as a shade of light pink bloomed on her cheeks at his words.

“I’ll try to be gentle,” she replied with a soft, beguiling smile that was all kinds of attractive.  God, the last thing he wanted was gentle as he watched her nibble on her plump lower lip.  Glistening cherry red lips that tempted him to have a taste.

Who was this woman who made his body hard and ready and his heart want to take chances?  He didn't know what he could offer her when so many shadows haunted him.  But she made him want to try.

“Wanna get out of here? Go for a drive?”

“Okay,”

~~~~~~

Before they left the bar, Felicity made sure the ladies had a way home and that they knew she was leaving with Oliver.   They cruised for a little bit listening to music as Oliver drove his jeep to the beach where they parked in a quiet, empty public parking lot.

The nearby waves glistened gray under the moon as they took part in a symphony of sounds that made for a beautiful night.

They talked for hours and found they had a lot in common.  Not just the understanding of military life and its pressures, but also the fact that coffee could be a delicacy and that Peyton Manning was one of the great quarterbacks of their generation.

“I’ve really enjoyed tonight,” Felicity said, and she found she really had.  She had never felt as comfortable with a person so quickly.   Oliver Queen wasn’t just a fascinating, handsome man, he was also a mystery...a bit of a puzzle.  She had always enjoyed a mystery.  

He had steered most of their conversation towards getting to know her.  Felicity certainly enjoyed being with a man who wanted to know about her, but...she sometimes caught a glimpse of sadness behind his gorgeous eyes.  When they had talked about Felicity’s brother and the sacrifice he had made in the line of duty, it hit Oliver harder than she expected.  Of course, a fellow soldier would understand and feel for another, but she sensed there was so much more...to the impact it had on him.  Something, painful.  She had to bite her tongue each time she wanted to ask him, deeper, more personal questions.

“Me too. Felicity, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?”  

“I would love to,”  Felicity grinned, a huge smile taking over her face.  He wanted to see her again and that made her want to do a happy dance.

“Good,”  he replied as he grinned back at her.  “I’ll cook.”

“You cook?”  Felicity asked as her jaw dropped open. Could this man be anymore perfect?  She would and could burn everything she touched in a kitchen.  Give her a rifle and she could hit a target at 800 meters, but give her a pan and a stove....nope.

“I cook,” Oliver laughed at her amazement.  

His laughter was sexy and contagious.  It cocooned her in its warmth and sensuality.  She loved the fact that she could make him happy.  And it also scared her how much she wanted to keep any sadness from touching him ever again.  

~~~~~~

Oliver’s thumb hovered over the screen of his iphone before he pressed the lock screen and slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans.  He had almost called Felicity and cancelled their dinner several times during the day after he woke to another nightmare that morning.  

He had been feeling so light and...happy, last night with her, that he had asked to see her again. He hadn’t laughed and smiled so much in so very long.  She was extremely attractive, funny, and intelligent.  She made him feel...good.  He almost felt like his old self.  

Almost.  Till he woke from a dream full of pain.  He was such a fool to bring her into his darkness.  She made him forget himself.  She made him forget that he didn’t deserve to feel light and happy.    

His friends were dead.  Elizabeth Lance was dead.  

He would ensure Felicity had a nice evening and then….then he would need to let her go.  He didn’t want to hurt her and the more time he spent with her...he knew he would end up hurting her.  

~~~~~~

“Hi,” Felicity said, as she kissed Oliver on the cheek when he greeted her at his front door.  He looked scrumptious in a navy blue t-shirt and faded jeans.  The scent of the ocean, coconut sunscreen and man surrounded her as Oliver’s eyes traced her face and lingered on her lips.  Lips that still tingled from the feel of his sexy, late afternoon scruff.  “Um, you have a beautiful home.  I’m so envious you live on the beach.”

“Thanks!  And thank you,” he replied as she handed him a chilled six pack of her favorite Mexican beer and he turned and led her into the beach style bungalow house.  “I’ve only just started to settle in more...when I was...on call with my team, I would be gone a lot.”

The catch in his voice as he talked about his team didn’t go unnoticed by Felicity, but she let it go.  Maybe he missed being in the field or maybe there was more to it.  She could wait.  They were getting to know each other and it was a part of the puzzle of Oliver Queen that she looked forward to unraveling.

Felicity liked the open floor plan of the living room that shared the space with a very modern kitchen.  The room’s simple white walls, dark wood tables and cabinets and sage green couch and matching recliners was clean and crisp.

“I thought I’d barbeque some marinated chicken and vegetables out on the patio grill,”

“Sounds perfect.  Can I help open a bottle of beer for you, while you be master chef?”

“That would be great,” he chuckled.

Conversation and laughter flowed easily and Oliver tantalized Felicity’s taste buds in more ways than one.  Dinner was delicious, but so was the way Oliver moved in his worn in jeans.  She took another sip of her negra modelo to cover her moan as she watched him, from where she sat on the wooden picnic table, as he leaned over to shut off the gas for the grill.  His muscles rippled under his clothes when he moved and all she wanted to do was see them unhindered.  Touch them with her hands and her mouth.  Who would have thought clothing could be so irritating?  In fact her own shorts and gray t-shirt were starting to feel tight and restrictive against her heated skin.

“Ready for dessert?” Oliver asked with a twinkle in his eye.  He couldn’t know how much she wanted to jump him, could he?  Naw, she thought.  She was just projecting her own wants.  “I have dark chocolate or mint chocolate chip ice cream,”

“Seriously? You have mint chocolate chip ice cream?”

“I gather I chose right. I’ll get you some and bring it out here,”

Oliver came back out with two small bowls and spoons and handed one to her.  He then sat down beside her on the top of the wooden picnic table.  They both ate their ice cream and watched the beginning of the evening’s sunset over the horizon.  

Felicity felt so relaxed and safe and a big reason for that, was the man beside her.  Everything felt...right.  He felt....right.

The wind whipped tendrils of her hair loose from her ponytail and she suddenly felt Oliver’s fingers slid them behind her ear.  

Time seemed to stop as heat seared where he touched her.  She watched, transfixed by the turmoil of emotions that flickered in his eyes.  Her mysterious Seal.

“Why were you rusty?”

“What?” Oliver asked.

“You told me the other night...you felt rusty talking to a woman,”

He didn’t reply.  Instead he turned his head back towards the brilliant streaks of color in the sky.

As he remained silent she watched all the openness and light dim from his face.  A small shiver traveled down her back as she felt him close himself off from her.  It hurt as she felt the acute loss of him.

“I’m sorry, I di,”

“Please don’t apologize, Felicity,” Oliver said, cutting her off and holding her gaze once again.  “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“Then what did I say that upset you?”  

“I...carry a lot of baggage.  I shouldn’t have asked you to dinner,”

Felicity stilled at his words, but then she set down her bowl and shifted closer to him.  Just close enough so only their shoulders met.  A small connection so he knew she was with him.  That he wasn’t alone.

“What happened?”  she gently whispered, willing and wanting to be a friend.  

“My issues...you don’t deserve having to deal with them,”

“Perhaps you should let me decide that,” she said quietly.

He shut his eyes...and when he met her eyes again...he was hurting.  He no longer hid it from her.   The intensity of his gaze was almost too overwhelming to hold.

“I, I couldn’t keep my men safe.  On my last mission I failed them.  Three of my best friends and a young woman died.  I was wounded and I...I can’t seem to forgive myself for what happened.”

As Oliver told her about the bomb, the explosion and the months and months of rehab and rebuilding of his life, Felicity’s heart reached out to him.  It was such a profound trauma and loss that only he could find his way through.  If there was one thing she learned from her brother’s journey was that no matter how much you loved your loved one, all you could do for them was be there.  Let them know they weren’t alone.   Other than that, the journey had to be made by them.

She rested her head against his shoulder and after his words ended and his breathing calmed he laid his head on top of hers.   They sat there, not really seeing the sun set or hearing the world move on around them.   They sat there, taking what they needed from each other.  

Night drifted in around them and the patio’s automatic fairy lights blinked on and they were bathed under their whimsicalness.

“On their last visit my dad strung those up here for my mom,”

Oliver lifted his head as she moved hers to look up at him, “They’re beautiful,”

“You’re beautiful,”

Felicity nudged his shoulder for making her blush.

“Thank you, Felicity.  For listening.  For not judging.  For being a friend,”

“You’re welcome.  And, Oliver?”

“Hmm,”

“I would still like to get to know you better.  Go on another date and hopefully, more?”  She knew she was moving fast.  Perhaps being forward, but there was just something about him.  She felt connected to Oliver on so many levels.

She could tell her words surprised him.  She just hoped they tempted him too, because she wanted him in her life.  She wanted this man who valued his friendships, his family and his country.    

~~~~~~~~

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Each mile he had traveled away from Somerset, away from Lady Felicity, had been painful and had felt, wrong.  He felt it in his gut and his heart.   He just hadn’t allowed his mind to feel it.  Compartmentalize, that is what he did.   He hadn’t allowed his mind to acknowledge that the wrongness had truly begun after he…could not and had not declared his love for Lady Felicity.  

She sat before him, in the intimacy of that dressing room surrounded by puppies and a tired Hanna, with love in her eyes.   Love for him and he…had let her go.   Or at least was trying to let her go.  Every hour since his departure he fought the need to go back to her.  To beg forgiveness and the right to adore her.  But, he would not.  

The feel of her skin, under his thumb as he wiped her tears away, haunted him.  He touched her and there had been no physical pain, but there had been true, blinding agony as he held back the words he wanted to say.  That he had loved her from the first moment he beheld her.    

His mother had asked if he would stay in London a few days, not to go to the balls, but to spend time with her.  Their two story town home, with a warm Bath-stone facade and whose Grecian ionic columns faced the West side of Hyde Park, had once been a favorite of his.  One side of the property offered the hustle and bustle of city life and the other the serenity of a park with sculpted mazes and riding trails.  But none of that mattered at the moment.   Every day, had been worse than the last.  He’d had episodes for most of that time and their length and severity worsened.

“Some of our hearts are too scarred. Too fractured. Too weak,”

Oliver wasn’t numb enough yet, to attempt to sleep.  He took another sip of the amber liquor from the thick, heavy glass in his hand and it burned going down his throat.  The fire in his master suite’s hearth cast flickers of gold up along his black trousered legs and disheveled shirt and cravat as he sat slumped to the side in his arm chair.  

“You are beautiful when you smile,”

He shook his head as Lady Felicity’s voice whispered to him from the shadows of his mind.  He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the chair.  He fought to keep her visage and her words locked away, but it wasn’t working.  

“Why aren’t you married to a man who adores you? A man who would gift you the moon.”

He swirled the liquid around and around in the glass as the anger, from thinking of any man other than himself touching, kissing, adoring Lady Felicity, built up and then erupted.  He threw the glass against the wall and shards of crystal shattered onto the floor.

Had he ever wanted anything more than to be whole again for her?    

“We just need to accept that we will never be who we once were…we have to accept who we are now. Scars and all.”

And that was the problem was it not?  He couldn’t be whole again for someone else.  He couldn’t be whole again for his mother.  He couldn’t be whole again for Lady Felicity.   He needed to be whole again for…himself.

He had tried so hard to make himself who he once was….and that man, that boy, was no longer.  Oliver felt a cold wetness on his face.  As he wiped it away from his cheeks he realized he was crying.   He hadn’t cried once since his return from the war.  He hadn’t cried since….

Draw in.  Ease out…..

He couldn’t breathe.  And he couldn’t stop crying.  He never, ever deliberately allowed himself to think of his captivity and his torture.  They only seeped through the cracks of the door in which he barricaded them behind.  Compartmentalize.  Compartmentalize.  

Draw in.  Draw in.  Draw in.   He shook all over.  

“Shhh, it is all right,” a warm hushed feminine whisper, only just barely penetrated his stupor. He tried to surface. To follow its warmth.  “Oh, please don’t make a sound,” there it was again. Oliver’s mind followed it. He could not understand the words, but the voice…it was safe. And then his face was cradled within hands that were petal smooth and then a firm softness pressed against his mouth.

He mind split in two.  

Tethered, anchored and kept safe, only by the memory of Felicity’s words and touch behind that library curtain, he finally…faced his nightmares.

He watched his body break under blow after blow delivered by black hearts, angry hands, and wood and metal weapons.  He smelled the foul breath and sweaty bodies of the deliverers of that hatred and that evil.  He looked…at the faces of the men who did him harm; who left him to die.  He. Looked. At. Them.  And he…survived.  He lived.  

“Our hearts still beat. We still live.”  

~~~~~~

Felicity peeled off her gloves, untied her straw hat and set them all down on the table in the foyer.  The day had been beautiful, a never ending expanse of blue and clouds of cotton white puffs, and she had not seen it.  She had walked and walked and still, she felt…heavy.   She had been sleeping a lot.  As if, she could not face being awake.   It had been two weeks since Lord Archer and his mother had left and yet, it felt like forever.

Katherine had known something was wrong almost immediately, as she had watched Felicity and Lord Archer, two people who clearly did not wish to part, say goodbye with hypersensitive politeness, but respectful dignity.  Felicity did not wish to talk with Katherine and after a few gentle attempts at coaxing, she had been hugged and quietly loved with an unending supply of hot chocolate and treats.  

It had been William who had finally broke through Felicity’s depression.  He had brought Hanna and her pups to visit her in her bedroom.  After setting the new family alongside where Felicity lay resting, William sat down on her bedside.   He simply stroked and pet the adorable pups and waited for Felicity to speak.

The warm bodies squirmed against her chest and she looked up at her brother and said,  “I love him, William.”

“I know,”  he replied, gently.  “No one, who looked upon you two, would think otherwise.”

“He left.”

William took a deep breath and nodded, “I cannot speak for Archer, but you know how much I fought against my feelings for Katherine.”

“Yes, it was difficult to watch when I knew you two belonged together,”

“It was difficult to live through.  I knew I was hurting her, but…I didn’t think I was worthy of her and Felicity, it took me a long time to heal,”

“And you did.  I’m so grateful,”

With his finger, William tenderly pushed a wayward wisp of Felicity’s hair away from her eyes and said, “Allow Archer to heal.  And if his heart is true…it will come for you.”

She had woken the next morning with the same broken pieces of her own heart yearning for his, but now their jagged edges were a little less sharp.  As the pieces inched closer together, trying to mend themselves whole again, she hoped and prayed Oliver was all right.   Was he taking care of himself?  Was there someone to help him when the terrors came?  

A package, left on the foyer table, caught her eye.  

“That would be for you my Lady, it came by special delivery,” said George the butler, as he stood by the door.

“Thank you, George,” Felicity said as she carried the package into the family room.  She set it on the tea table and unraveled the string and parted the heavy layers of cloth that kept its contents safe.

A small envelope rested on a beautifully bound book.   She noticed the title, Emma, was engraved on the book’s leather cover.  As she opened the note, it contained only two short sentences, but with them came a light blush and a joy she had not felt in weeks.  

~~~~~

A small token of my gratefulness.  May it find a warm and pleasant welcome in your library. Archer

~~~~~

He thought of her.  

Knowing this brought her immense joy and incredible sadness.  She had crossed his mind like he crossed hers.  Did she walk with him through the day or share a look or a touch…like he did in hers?

It was bittersweet.  She delighted in his thoughtfulness and his humor of their moment in the library, but…she wished for more.  She wished he was hers.

Sometimes, such wishes, do not come true and she would have to remember that.  They may never be more than just friends, but friendship…was another kind of love that should be just as treasured.  

Felicity wrote a thank you note, to her friend, and in a few days time received a letter back.  In it contained an enquiry as to Hanna and her puppies’ health and thus begun an easy and precious correspondence.   Her beloved friend shared his love of many things such as the lakes and countryside of his Devonshire, albeit they were not wild as the ocean of Somerset, but his words spilled the unique images off the parchment and he in return grew to learn more of her.  Her favorite books and authors, what flowers reminded her of her mother, her opinions and her thoughts.

Friendship.  It was to be ardently cherished.

~~~~~~

London, Autumn 1816

“Sweetness, you forgot your dance card in the parlor,” Katherine said, as she came to stand with Felicity at the edge of the dance floor.   Katherine’s distant cousin was having her first season in London and Felicity, William and Katherine found themselves there for support.  With the arrival of crisp autumn weather came the excitement of new faces and the thrill of finding love.  The ton was vibrating with possibilities.

Silk gowns and joyous festive couples flew by in a blur of dancing colors as Felicity sighed and said with light sarcasm, “Thank you, Katherine. I would have missed it dearly,”

Felicity had never felt as if she was missing anything by never being asked to dance, but it now tugged ever so gently at her heartstrings. Now, there was someone she wanted to dance with.  Lord Archer.  The months that had passed had not dulled the exacting details of his beloved face.  She remembered every moment they had had and every word they had shared in their letters.    She had read within their sentences his sense of self returning.  They had not directly written to each other of his “struggles,” but each post had grown longer and reflected a life that was slowly and carefully beginning to be lived.  

“Oh, I do believe you have indeed missed…something,”  Katherine replied mischievously as she leaned close and whispered into Felicity’s ear, “Open it,”

With confusion as to what Katherine was up to, Felicity opened her dance card and did not understand at first.  Every dance entry was filled…and filled with the same name.  The Earl of Archer, Oliver Queen.

“Good evening, Lady Felicity,” came a sinfully delicious voice that caressed her as lovingly and as sensually as the blue eyes she looked up into with surprise.

Felicity could not believe he was there.  Her eyes soaked in every inch of him.  His black evening wear showcased his body to perfection.  He looked so healthy and so alive.  Eyes that had once held back so much now beamed with an openness that welcomed her.  

“May I have this dance?”  

Felicity was so happy to see him.  Words could not form quick enough as she placed her hand into his offered one and whispered, “Yes,”

~~~~~~

Everything fell into place as Oliver swept Felicity into a waltz.   She was breathtaking in her forest green gown with elegantly embroidered red peonies sparkling through the folds of its skirt as it swirled and brushed against his legs.  

His heart healed as he held onto her, turn after graceful turn, and her smile grew broader and wider till she laughed at loud.    

He wanted to explain how much her letters had meant to him.  How much her support and friendship had been a beacon to him on his darkest days.  He wanted to tell her that he heard her voice in his head and it always soothed and eased.  He wanted to tell her he still had the terrors, but that he had chosen to live…and to love.  

He wanted to tell her how sorry he was to have hurt her.  He wanted to tell her so much, but the most important thing he wanted to tell her was…

“I love you,”

He felt her entire body shake from his declaration and in his arms, in the middle of a magical and extraordinary waltz, the woman he loved, said it back.

Felicity’s eyes shimmered with joyous tears as she said, “I love you, too.”

~~~~~~

“My Lord, someone will catch us,” a breathless voice said, from a window seat hidden behind thick curtains in a moonlit library as strong, devilishly dexterous fingers slid under the hem of an evening gown and up along silky thighs.

“Then we best make this quick,” was teasingly whispered back as insatiably hungry lips placed wet, open mouthed kisses down a graceful swan like neck, till they found the luscious top curves of heavy, full breasts.  A tongue peeked out to lick and savor and a long sigh of feminine pleasure echoed off the book filled shelves.

“Oliver, I feel as big as the whales we see off the cliffs of Somerset,” Felicity moaned again, from behind the curtain, as her prominent belly bump nestled against the hard muscled torso of her husband as she sat straddling his lap in the privacy of their home library in Devonshire.  

“You are beautiful, desirable and I adore you,” her husband of one year and two months said to his pregnant wife as his hands threaded through her hair, pins flying everywhere as her golden curls cascaded down over his arms and her shoulders.   The daring neckline of her gown showed off the bountiful expanse of her satiny skin and it glowed under the worshipping beams of moonlight.  

Oliver’s words filled Felicity’s soul with incomparable love as they always did.  Her beloved still fought against his darkness, but now…now, on their life’s journey, there was an inner light that shielded him as he held fast, to the hand of his best friend and other half of his heart.  

“So very beautiful.” Oliver murmured as he tightened his hold on her hair and pulled her in for a kiss.

She eagerly welcomed the slide of his tongue between her lips. He tasted like the strawberries they had for dessert and love. He always, always tasted like love.

~~~~~~~~

*****The End, but really a happily ever after.*****

~~~~~~~~

Oliver tried not to stare, but his eyes were drawn to Felicity’s delicate profile as she looked out across the infinite body of gray and white tipped curls of ocean that went as far as the horizon.  His gaze wandered over the glass spectacles that had become endearingly familiar to him, across her porcelain skin flushed with good health, and then along the curves of her lips that always seemed to be on the verge of a smile.  Lips that appeared soft and bitable.  He had first hand knowledge of the first, they had been exquisitely soft against his, and when he allowed himself to admit it...he wanted to find out about the second.  Multiple times.

The squawking of the sea gulls that circled them from above set off an unexpected reaction.  The resulting tilt of Oliver’s world blind-sided him.

Draw in, as if inhaling the scent of a blooming flower. Ease out, to relax.

As the disorientation started to build he fought to focus on Lady Felicity.  Another swirl of wind lifted a few loose tendrils of her hair that struggled to stay in a refined bun under her ribbon tied straw hat.   The pale yellow of her dress drew forth the rich, lush green of the grass that surrounded them.

Draw in.  Ease out.

Oliver trained himself to face each day with resilient fight. Compartmentalization and isolation of his thoughts and thus his feelings was a tool he tried to use to deal with what came.  The tidal wave of memories, that always hovered around the edges of his mind, was triggered today by the sound of seabirds. This was his life now.  What had not bothered him the day before...would and could, lay him bare the next.  He was so tired of being weak.  So tired of being afraid of the next “episode.”  

Draw in.  Ease out.

Oliver’s memories, like William’s dark storms, threatened to swallow him whole.  The darkness crept closer till it begun to narrow the view of his surroundings.  It squeezed the brightness of the day down to a pinprick of light like a tunnel collapsing inward in slow motion.

….The creaking sounds of the boat and the nauseating sway of the rough sea crossing had kept Oliver from sleep and the much needed oblivion it offered as his body, each broken bone, deep wound and laceration, screamed in agony.   Every touch and movement wrought excruciating, excruciating pain.  A week had passed since his rescue and in a fog of misery and hallucinations...he had been shipped home.  Sent home to die or worse...to live...

The violent stress that had started to encompass his limbs was beaten back as Lady Felicity turned her head and with those pink lips gave him a dazzling smile....that quickly turned into a look of concern.   Her brief smile had cast a beam of sunshine and welcome that flooded his tunnel vision with light and beat the darkness back into a compartment Oliver could lock away...for now.

Draw in....Ease out…

The warmth of the day and loveliness of the woman in front of him came sharply back into focus, as did Oliver’s awareness.  He bowed his head in shame.   He felt so awful that she had seen him like this...again.  

Long, delicate fingers curled around his shaking ones and Oliver lifted his head in surprise.  Felicity did not ask what was wrong with him.  She did not say, everything would be all right.  

She simply held his hand.  She held his hand.

And in her comfort and the amazing touch of her compassion; he found a friendship that would hold fast and walk beside him for the rest of his life.

Draw in...

Her chest rose and fell in sync with his as if willing him to breath.  As the pounding of his heart beat returned to normal his shame melted away. He felt vulnerable and a bit unsteady, but Felicity made him feel, safe.  She had seen him at his worst three times and three times she had not judged.

Ease out...

“William?”  Oliver croaked out, already knowing the answer.   She nodded, yes, without elaborating. She kept the details of William’s secrets even as she helped Oliver with his own.  Felicity would have seen the trauma William carried home from the war.  She would have seen first hand her brother’s  “episodes.”   She would have heard the screams from his nightmares.   She understood.

Felicity released his hand after a gentle squeeze and Oliver wished...well, he wished for things he knew he was not ready for.   He did not know if he would ever be ready for them.

“My parents loved the sea,”  Felicity said, her lips quivering with love and sadness.  “They would walk the beaches together and listened to the sounds of the waves as they drifted through the open doors and windows of our home.”

Oliver watched as her thoughts took her back to a time and place where good still outweighed the bad.

“You must miss them a great deal,” Oliver replied as he remembered hearing about the tragic carriage accident that had taken the Viscount and his wife two years earlier.  Lady Felicity had lost her parents while William had been at war.   She had grieved while taking on the responsibilities of her father’s estate, alone, and safeguarded it not just for her brother, but for the many who lived and worked there.  

Her gentle spirit and ability to still smile, laugh and enjoy life was a testament of her strength and ability to heal.  Oliver respected her resilience and her grace.

“You know what happened to them?”

“I had heard about the accident. I am sorry for your loss,”

“One day we are enjoying the normal and the next...I did not know what to do.  I kept thinking I would see them the next day and the next.  And when I did not...,”

Oliver watched as she tried to reign in her emotions.  

“How did you...how did you move forward,” Oliver whispered truly wanting to know.  How had she?

“Time.  It takes time. One morning you wake and the pain is not as overwhelming. Not as suffocating. It doesn't mean you can no longer feel it.  It just means you can bear it.  I also had Katherine and her family.  They wrapped me up in love and when I was ready to...feel it, I did,”  Her last sentence brought a tear to her eye and Oliver watched it fall.  He wanted to wipe it away and never see this beautiful, strong woman cry ever again.  

“Our experiences make us stronger.  I genuinely feel that, Lord Archer.  I watched my brother take his pain and turn it into an incredible connection to the human spirit.  I see him with a heart so much more open and understanding of those around him,”

“Some of our hearts are too scarred.  Too fractured. Too weak,”  Oliver shared his fear.

“I believe our scars...they don’t reflect, weakness.  They reflect our strength.  Our hearts still beat.  We still live.  We just need to…”

“Need to what?”

“We just need to accept that we will never be who we once were...we have to accept who we are now.  Scars and all.”

~~~~~~~

The weekend had gone by too quickly.   Lord Archer and the Countess were to leave in the morning and Felicity did not know when she would see either of them next.  She sat in front of the mirror of her vanity table and finished braiding her hair in preparation for bed.  The dark circles under her eyes reflected the emotional day she had had.

Watching Lord Archer struggle with his demons and sharing the loss of her parents with him, which still stunned Felicity, had left her drained.  She could not believe she had brought up her parents, but she had felt compelled to.   She had needed to connect to him and tether him to her...hope.  Otherwise, she worried he would be lost for good.

Lord Archer, William and every soldier who had gone to war lost their innocence.  Death was and would forever be a taker.  A destroyer.  No matter if you were expecting it or not...the loss of family, friend or foe would take a piece of your soul.  You just needed to decide to live with what you were left with.

She did not know if she helped Lord Archer, but he had helped her.  He helped to remind her that she had chosen to live and love.   That she had chosen to be there when her brother came home.  To be there to love him when he needed her.  To see him flourish and be happy.  Felicity had chosen to live and love.   She could only hope Lord Archer made the same choice.

Felicity turned at the knock on her door.  “My lady, Lord Archer sent me to get you.  Hanna is giving birth,”  Emma whispered so as not to wake the rest of the family.  Felicity could hear the chiming of the clock as it signalled the late hour.  

Felicity put on her night wrapper and hurried down the hall towards the candle lit dressing room and the man who sat on its floor with Hanna leaning against his thigh as she licked and cleaned her two little puppies.  

Lord Archer looked up at her approach, his loose white night shirt softly gleaming in the candlelight, and upon seeing his radiant lop-sided smile, Felicity fell in love.  She knew she had not been far from that realization before this moment, but he was utterly, irridescent in his happiness.   This was the other half of the man who walked in the darkness.

She started to cry from the unfairness of his burdens.  She wanted him to be happy like this, forever.

“All is well, shhh, Felicity, please don’t cry.  Hanna and her babies are perfect,”  Oliver drew her down to sit by them.  The use of her first name going unnoticed in the moment.

Felicity sniffled and took a deep breath as she watched his smile grow wider as Hanna laid her head on his leg and watched him and her mistress through tired eyes.    The puppies blindly found their mother’s nipples and began to suckle on them.

“I wasn’t just crying for them,” Felicity whispered.  

With her heart full of love for this man, she recklessly continued on at his confused look, “You are beautiful when you smile,”    

Oliver’s body froze at her words and she watched mesmerized as the blue of his eyes darkened with an emotion she could not read.   Then he slowly reached over to cup the side of her face.  His hand was so warm and strong that Felicity could not help but close her eyes at the pleasure his touch brought her.  

His thumb brushed the wetness from her cheek and he whispered with profound incredulity, “Why aren’t you married to a man who adores you?  A man who would gift you the moon.  You are so special, Lady Felicity.  The men of the ton are idiots,”

Because he had not offered himself as that man, Felicity realized, heartbreakingly so that she must feel more for him than he felt for her.   At that dawning truth, her chest and her heart ached.  She had not felt such loss in a very long time.  A loss for a man she had never had to begin with.  She was not the right woman for him.  She was not, but she had seen the magic of what the right person could do for the one they loved.  Katherine had been a woman special enough to bring joy back to William and...one day, Felicity hoped Oliver would find his.   And when he did, she prayed he would chose to live and love.  

So as not to make him or herself any more uncomfortable she pulled away from his grasp and said with a lightness she did not feel, “He would have to sign my dance card first,”  

Hanna thankfully yelped and their attentions were once again on the miracle of Hanna and her puppies.

~~~~~~~~

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“My Lady, did you sleep well?”  Emma asked as she set Felicity’s day dress and undergarments on the bed.

“I was able to get some rest, Emma,” Felicity took one more sip of chocolate then placed the china cup back on its tray and turned from the window.  After an hour of tossing and turning as the day’s events replayed in her mind Felicity had finally settled down.  Her heart hurt knowing that Lord Archer was...struggling.  

Bouts of insomnia were not new to Felicity and Emma, as well as others close to their mistress, still worried for her.   For Felicity had struggled, too.    

~~~~~~~

Coaxing the stride of the animal and harnessing its power was as second nature to Oliver as breathing.  The feeling of freedom that came with riding was one of the few comforts he enjoyed from his life before the war.

Life before the war.   Would he ever look at his life as one, again?  It was split into before and after.  Would the two ever merge?  

William slowed his horse to a walk and they ambled along a cliff side trail.  The miles of milky white sheared off rock face was a boundary that reflected generations of Mother Nature’s cycle of time.

The vast wildness of the seascape reminded Oliver that he was only a second, within minutes, that ticked pass.

“All this...it reminds me of how small we truly are,” Oliver said.

William met his gaze, with one that mirrored the same understanding, before nodding in agreement and turning to look back across the land.  It was an understanding that only one who shared the experiences of war could feel.  That the horrors that happened to them and that continued to plague them, long after coming home, could devour and destroy.  They could and would consume, till you felt that was all that you were.  That you were this...torment.

“Dark storms that roll in from the sea are the hardest for me,” William spoke into the wind and to the man beside him.  “Their violence and volatility brings chaos and the unknown to my doorstep...and I no longer feel I have, control...you understand, do you not.”

Oliver swallowed back the emotion that sprang from William’s words.  He was not alone in his fear and his decimation.  He was not the only one who felt, broken.  He was not...the only one.  

Once he found his voice again Oliver said, “I understand.”

William turned then and looked directly into Oliver’s eyes, “But then the sun, returns....it always returns,”

At Oliver’s silence William continued, “Sometimes it returns in the warm touch of its rays and sometimes...it returns in the light of another person’s heart.”

A gentleness came over William’s face and Oliver knew he now spoke of his wife, Katherine.

Soft lips in the moonlight came to mind and Oliver understood how William could have found happiness.   He was happy for him and Katherine, but the joy he saw seemed so far out of reach.   How could he nurture love and manage to share his life with another, when he could not even keep himself steady and strong?

~~~~~~

“Morning, dearest,”  Katherine greeted Felicity as she entered the peach and cream decorated breakfast room and sat down across from her sister-in-law and the Countess Archer.

“It is a beautiful morning, Katherine.  Countess,”

“Lady Felicity,” the Countess replied as she drizzled a liberal layer of fresh honey over her muffin.  A conspiratorial smile spread across her face as she noticed Felicity’s gaze, “You can never have too much honey.”  

“Never,” Felicity heartily agreed, as she reached for the container of honey as one of the servants placed a plate of muffins in front of her.

“Quite,” Katherine chimed in as she daintily licked the remains of the decadent sweetness from the corner her own lips.   All the ladies began to giggle and new friendships were forged.

“Lady, Felicity.  This was left for you,” one of the maids said quietly as she came to stand by Felicity.  

Felicity picked up the envelope handed to her upon a silver tray and opened the missive.   Fluid strokes of ink from Lord Archer’s quill relayed to Felicity that Hanna had a peaceful night and was preparing a place for her babes with much enthusiasm.  Felicity couldn’t help smiling as he described the “borrowing” of his clothing.   He was a kind man to allow such liberties.

“Pleasant news it would seem,” the Countess gently asked, as both ladies noticed Felicity’s reaction to the note.

“Yes, very pleasant news.  Our pregnant dog, Hanna, has found a place to have her pups and it appears that Lord Archer’s dressing room is her choice.”

“I’m so relieved you found her, Felicity.  Lord Archer’s suite?  Surely he would like us to move her?” Katherine asked, as she bit down on another luscious bit of muffin.

“He’s actually been lovely about the whole thing.  He insisted she stay,”

“He would,” the Countess said softly.  “He has a good and true heart.”    

Felicity watched as pain and a light sheen of tears formed in the older woman’s’ eyes before they were blinked away and a brave smile returned.  

“Yes, yes he does,” Felicity said gently.  She knew Oliver was suffering.  Most likely in many of the same ways her brother William did and she knew the toll it took on those who loved them the most.  You could not always reach those who suffered, but you could remind them that they were loved.  

People had made sure Felicity had felt loved and she knew without a doubt that the Countess loved her son.

“Countess, you must try our fresh strawberry jam.  The plants grow wild across the cliffs.” Katherine went into deliberate detail about the harvesting and wonders of their cook and soon the Countess was drawn into conversation that took the tears completely away.

“If you would like, we could take a carriage ride to my parent’s home.  My family’s estate borders Somerset.”

“I would like that,”  the Countess replied and the ladies’ day was set.

~~~~~

Felicity took a few moments to check in on Hanna before they set out for Katherine’s family home.   The scent of verbena and leather, that Felicity had grown to associate with Lord Archer, lingered in the empty suite.  She took a deep breath and enjoyed all the sensations and memories it brought back to her.  Virility and masculine beauty would forever be connected to those distinctive scents.  

“Hanna,” she whispered soothingly as she walked into the cool and shadowed dressing room and crouched down to pet the dog.   The excited thump of Hanna’s tail greeted her touch.  

“You have made yourself a comfortable nest haven’t you?”  Felicity said as she reached out to finger the white cotton shirt and what suspiciously looked like a cravat piled under the warm body of her pet.  “Lord Archer will watch over you, sweetness.  All will be well.”

~~~~~~

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