Technical Assistance

Chapter 21: Drive Cloning

Felicity thinks she might be about to wear a hole in her floor. Today has done nothing for her nerves; first that encounter with Oliver, and now this mess. She finally let the cat out of the bag and told Diggle that she knew he was the Not-Vigilante, and she's not looking forward to meeting the Arrow. Because Felicity knows that loyalty like that is nearly impossible, and Mr. Diggle is not a man to keep secrets from the people who depend upon him.

She turns from a line in her path to run into the Arrow, and he steadies her by the shoulders. She lets out a muffled shriek of surprise. "Are you all right?" he asks quietly, before brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. His eyes are intense, as always, and she really needs to look away because of the way they taunt her.

"I could ask you the same question," she retorts when she's finally able to look at him again. "The last time we met, you had an almost-lethal dose of Vertigo in your system. You could barely walk a straight line." She bites her lip before she adds hesitantly, "And then you left without waking me. I wasn't sure if you were all right." Something about the admission makes her feel like she's admitting something much more personal, so she quickly turns her head away.

His hand lands on her shoulder, causing her to focus attention on him again. "I didn't want to wake you," he admits, and even under the synthesizer, his voice is drastically different. Some new emotion has entered his tone, and Felicity decides it's not one important enough to decipher. "I cause you too many sleepless nights as it is." She has to look away at that one because, with that tone, it's far too much for her to handle. She isn't surprised when he tilts her chin back toward him. "And you could have called me, Felicity." It isn't an accusation or a judgment, but an invitation. She understands the words he can't seem to say: You can call me at any time for any reason because I'll always answer. And, truth be told, she's very glad he didn't say it. Some things are given new life when spoken aloud, and she's not sure she's ready to acknowledge this particular train of thought.

"I didn't want to come off as some nagging, overly-concerned mother hen," she decides to confess, and she thinks it's odd that her voice is an octave higher than normal. "It's not like you answer to me—I'm not important enough for that." He frowns and opens his mouth to argue, but she stops him with a finger over his mouth. "And, for the record," she continues, "I like spending my nights with you." It's only after the corner of his mouth twitches that she realizes how it sounds, and she groans. "Ugh, do not answer that last part."

His hand splays across her cheek, barely cupping it. Indecision plays across his features before he finally admits, "You're important to me." Each word is weighted with something more, and, whatever it is, it takes Felicity's breath away for a moment. Then the corner of his mouth lifts, and he adds, "And I like spending my nights with you, too." She bites her lip again, and he coaxes it out from between her teeth with his thumb immediately. "I don't want you to hesitate to call me, Felicity. For any reason." Again, his eyes are far too intense, and this time she can't even turn her head to escape from those piercing, dark eyes.

They stand like that for a long time, and Felicity forgets the world for a moment. Somehow they're able to lock and communicate like this, and she feels that old, familiar draw toward him—that lure that's been there since they first met. Before, she was hesitant because he was the Arrow and the terror of Starling City, but now she knows better. He's a good, decent man when he's under that hood, and she freely admits that she was wrong. But since she decided that, the draw and sensation is getting harder to ignore, harder to think of reasons why she should ignore it and break the silence.

This time, when he tilts her head up, it's with a single finger, this time giving her the opportunity to break loose. Even as he touches her, her nerves flutter because she knows this is different—and she knows why, and can hardly believe it herself. The distance between them can be measured in centimeters, and she thinks they need to stop talking like this before something dangerous happens. The Arrow must have come to the same conclusion, but, since he seems to invite danger with open arms, he probably thinks it's worth the risk. "Do you understand?" he murmurs slowly, and she's pretty sure she can feel his breath on her face.