#my approach to being confronted with threats is to avoid rather than tank it

[vieramars]

Me when I stopped playing subnautica once the only way to progress the story was to go thru the lost river because I'm Scared

[bnha-mcu-requests]

Request #5

Okay so I have a story idea that I cant find so if youd like to could you maybe write it? The idea is bakugou and kirishima get together and all the others in the dorm think that its probably a toxic relationship based on how bakugous personality is, so they confront one of the two, and bakugou is rlly hurt by it aaaand that's all I got

 I love this request and I am so sorry it so long to respond to it but here it is!

The room was dark. Not an oppressive or frightening dark, but one that promises comfort, warmth and a good nights rest. 

Perhaps Kirishima was being biased but with Bakugou nestled under his chin, strong arms thrown haphazardly over his chest, he would say he was entitled to his bliss. It had been awkward at first, Bakugou angrily confessing his feelings during a training session before attempting to run away under the guise of storming off. Kirishima had acted on instinct pulling him back into an admittedly sloppy and inexperienced kiss but, he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

The rest of 1-A had yet to find out and both were content with this, neither really understanding the need to make a massive deal about burgeoning relationships. Besides, they were happy together and that’s all that really mattered. Privately, Bakugou worried about the responses they would receive, his less than pleasant demeanor was not exactly the poster for a healthy relationship. But whenever he voiced these insecurities with Kirishima, he was pulled into a tight hug where whispered responses and assurances of love tickled his ears.

Truly, they were made for each other, and while both knew it, neither broached the subject, embarrassed by the sappy confession.

Kirishima was snapped out of his musings by a groan and movement as Bakugou pulled himself away from the bed to stretch, arms reaching towards the ceiling, and, weak to the wiles of the blond, he didn’t deny himself a glance at the toned abs that peaked out from the bottom of his loose tank top.

Crimson met vermillion and an uncharacteristically soft smile graced Bakugou’s face as he admired his bedmate. 

“How long was I out Ei?” he asked, gravelly voice sending shiver up Kirishima’s spine. 

“About three hours. The others are back from shopping now and it shouldn’t be too long until dinner is ready”

The blond’s nose scrunched up in distaste as he remembered who exactly was on cooking duty that night.

“Fucking half and half better not have made cold soba again I swear to god I’ll explode the bowl” small sparks popped in his hands emphasizing the disgust and Kirishima could only watch on fondly as his boyfriend - his boyfriend holy shit he was dating Katsuki - grumbled while moving around the room looking for his hoodie that the redhead new for a fact was strewn over his desk chair. 

Kirishima let out a loud groan as he swung himself out of bed, sighing in relief at the loud pops that emerged from his spine, ignoring the concerned look Bakugou threw his way, before ambling over to his explosive partner and wrapping long arms around his torso. The boys were of a similar height however, Kirishima’s muscly form made him seem bigger than Bakugou who’s form was more like that of a swimmer’s. He nestled his nose into Bakugou’s nape breathing in the slightly sweet scent of nitroglycerin that followed the blond around. He felt his face vibrate as other chuckled and pulled away.

“C’mon Kat I just wanna hu-” he was cut off by soft lips pressed to his in a chaste but meaningful kiss.

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Dinner was a rather uneventful occasion, ignoring the yelling at the discovery that they were, once again, having cold soba and the students of 1-A settled down into the common room for Saturday night games. 

Everyone got involved in the game night, even Bakugou and Iida who under normal circumstances would have retreated to bed at 8 and 9 respectively. It was a good bonding time, or so Mina had declared when she first announced the idea. That was almost a year ago now and at this point, everyone had just accepted it as part of the routine. Sometimes they would play cards, charades, video games, monopoly and other board games, but on occasions when the class was high energy, they would beg Aizawa to let them use the training grounds for a massive game of tag or manhunt.  Tonight it was Hagakure’s turn to pick a game and like the teenage girl she was, she chose truth or dare.

Immediately people went around the room giving boundaries as they all knew there were some subjects that shouldn’t be disturbed in such an open environment as game night. Todoroki refused to talk about his scars, Shoji refused to take off his mask and Kouda would never be forced to talk if he didn’t want to.

Other than those boundaries it was pretty much a free for all, anything goes, nothing is off limits and as the night went on, the dares and truths got more and more personal or humiliating. Eventually, Kaminari worked up the nerve to ask Bakugou a question.

“Truth or Dare?” the boy asked, nervous sparks dancing across his cheeks causing Sero to move away slightly to avoid getting shocked.

“Truth” Bakugou grunted from his position on the sofa, arm thrown casually over the back of the chair so he could discretely stroke the back of Kirishima’s head.

“Um- are... are you and ....”

“For fucks sake Pikachu just ask the question” Bakugou snapped, startling a squeak from the other boy.

“Are-” “ARE YOU AND KIRI IN A RELATIONHIP?!” burst in Mina who had grown tired of waiting. The room went silent and all eyes shot to the two boys sat on the sofa, warily trying to assess the threat levels from the explosive blond.

“Yes” a collective cloud of confusion shrouded the room, some relieved that the boy hadn’t exploded while those who were braver began to ponder the nature of such a relationship.

Sensing the change in the atmosphere and feeling uncomfortable, Bakugou stood up, excusing himself to the bathroom. It was only seconds later that Midoriya got up to follow him but when Kirishima also made to stand up, he was stopped by a hand gripping his elbow.

He looked down into the doe eyes of Uraraka. She looked worried.

“Are you okay Kirishima? Bakugou isn’t forcing you to say that is he?” Shock stunned the redhead silent, he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. He sat down, surprise stealing the strength from his limbs.

“What?” he breathed out, voice barely louder than an whisper.

“Well, Bakugou is quite a violent individual, I can’t imagine that he would be the nicest of partners” Momo voiced from where she was sat in front of Jirou who was braiding her hair. Despite the eloquent flow of her speech, she looked distinctly uncomfortable, throwing subtle glances towards a stoic Todoroki - something that Kiri noted to look into later.

“He’s not hitting you....is he?” Uraraka once again asked, usually bubbly voice heavy with concern. 

Before he could respond, he heard the door to the common room open and Midoriya and Bakugou walked back in, Midoriya wearing a small smile and Bakugou appearing much more relaxed than he had when he left.

That was shattered when Iida sped towards him, hand slicing up and down much too close for comfort as he demanded to know if Bakugou had been hitting Kirishima.

“That is abuse Bakugou! I cannot believe you would allow yourself to stoop to that level! It is very unheroic” - Todoroki flinched - “You should be ashamed of treating someone you should love in this manner!”

Shocked, confused and a little hurt Bakugou stepped back, eyes darting around the room before he made contact with Kirishima.

“Ei-” he began before he was cut off by an angry Mina stepping in the way, blocking his view.

The blond turned his head towards Deku who looked just as confused as he felt and was trying to calm the still yelling Iida down. Under the weight of hateful glares and crushing betrayal, Bakugou was paralyzed - ‘Is this how Deku felt?’ flickered into mind before being chased away. 

Unable to do anything, unable to breathe, to talk, to defend himself, Bakugou turned and walked out of the room, deaf to the demands that he come back and blind to the worried look and approach of his boyfriend who was held back by Sero and Ojiro. 

He continued to walk, numb and silent until he found himself in his room. He locked the door and turned off the light.

This dark was cold and oppressive reminding him of the harsh accusations he had just heard. It wrapped around him in a suffocating mimicry of a hug, cruel words whispering telling him that they weren’t wrong, he was terrible. He did horrible things and he didn’t deserve Eiji- Kirishima.

Sinking to his knees at the foot of his bed, Bakugou Katsuki began to cry, his hiccupping sobs swallowed by the night, going unheard by the angry masses downstairs. He couldn’t hear the defences that Midoriya and Kirishima put in place, he couldn’t see the guilt in his accusers’ eyes when they realised what they had done, and he didn’t feel the warm arms that picked him up from where he had curled into a ball and that laid him into the bed. But through shuddering sobs, he could smell the cologne he bought Kirishima for his last birthday and he allowed himself to relax into the warmth of his boyfriend's chest, finally falling into a fitful sleep.

 There we have it. I know that toxic relationships can cover a wide range of aspects however, given the way Bakugou’s personality is portrayed in the manga and the anime, I believe this is the form that would most fit should the relationship be a toxic one.

My exams are finally over so I have more time to write requests and a post containing the rules for the requests (since I realised I didn’t cover those) will be coming out shortly. In the meantime, send me your requests, they really help to get the creative juices flowing!

[blog-sliverofjade]

Of Doms & Subs 1: Can't Stop Here, This is Wolf Country

Pairing: Angus Hopper x OFC

Summary:  What's a submissive female to do when she fights her nature and goes on the run as a Lone wolf to avoid being assimilated into a pack?

Word count: 6238

Master List

           “Please, please, please let me get as far as Tacoma,” I begged the flagging gas gauge of my trusty old lime green Jeep.  Experience told me that it was wishful thinking because traffic was bound to hit before Everett.  There was undoubtedly a Seattle pack and the fewer the stops in their area, the smaller the chance of getting picked up by the local werewolves.

           A schoolbus drew parallel to me in the left lane so a giant cartoon lupine mascot filled my peripheral vision.  “Can’t stop here, this is wolf country,” I muttered.

          If I barrelled through, gas up in Tacoma, then I could avoid the dreaded I-5 parking lot in both Seattle and Portland on the Friday of a long weekend.  Even though I started out in the British Columbia Rockies my destination was the central Oregon Cascade mountains, it was faster to cut across lower British Columbia, down the I-5 corridor, and then back across the Willamette Valley.

          This route also happened to avoid the territory of the famous Adam Hauptmann and his pack.  Oh sure, he was the perfect gentleman in the media and his wolves were seemingly well-behaved, but you know what they say about things that are too good to be true.  I was submissive and had no delusions about where I’d end up in the hierarchy.  Hell, humans had taught me that long before I was Changed two weeks ago.  And female werewolves were inevitably absorbed into a pack because some old grand high poobah declared that we couldn’t fly solo.

          So why was I zigzagging all over the Pacific Northwest instead of rolling over like a good little bitch?  Having been submissive for over thirty years, I’d long ago learned avoidance is the best way to avoid conflict.  When that didn’t work, an acerbic tongue and short temper kept most people from getting too close to abuse that aspect of my personality.  Too many people think that passivity is a synonym for doormat.

          My luck, or rather fuel tank, ran out in the U District.  Red and blue lights lit up the rearview mirror just as I squeezed through a yellow light towards a gas station.  “Please don’t be for me, please don’t be for me,” I chanted as I pulled into the lot.

          “Of course not, when has everything gone your way on this godsforsaken trip.”  I lowered my window, plastered a meekly congenial if slightly vapid look on my face, and gripped my license and registration in a sweaty fist.

          “Good evening.”  The officer bent to look in the window.  We both stilled the instinct we caught the other’s scent.  I dropped my eyes immediately, partly to avoid staring at the scar that marred his face, and offered the documentation.  Please don’t ask any questions, I prayed silently.

          “Are you traveling by yourself, Ms. Jones?”  Whatever deities that haven’t been listening to me can go shove it.

          “Yessir.  I’m headin’ back home to Oregon from visitin’ family.”  Mostly the truth.  I did stop in Vancouver to visit my brother.  I put the Southern drawl on fairly heavy.  The twang and the manners to go with often smooth the way with people in uniform, even if I hadn’t lived South of the 44th parallel in fifteen years.

          “Oh, you have family here?”  Must remain calm.  Normal, even breaths will help control the heartrate.

          “Vancouver,” I smiled.  So what if it was Vancouver, Washington and not Vancouver, British Columbia?

          “BC?”

          “Yessir.”  His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly at the blithe lie.

          “You must be a member of the Portland pack,” he said, eyeing my ID a little too closely for comfort now.

          “Yessir.”

          “I’m just gonna go run these.”  My dad was a cop and his face would go blank like that whenever he was gathering evidence of my brother’s or my misdeeds.  This was so many flavours of not good.

          The wolf watched him walk back to his car.  She liked the way he smelled.  Familiar and right.  Like family.  If she could, she would have trotted right at his heels.  At that thought, the human half kicked in and started up the engine, slammed her into gear, and peeled back out towards the onramp.

          “Smart.  Real smart, what’re we gonna do now?” I tapped the steering wheel in a staccato rhythm with my thumbs in time to the rock blaring from the sound system.  “No license, no registration, he called your plates in before saying hi, he has your address and…”  I grabbed my phone and shut it off.  If the conspiracy theorists were right, they could track me via the phone.  Is it paranoia if they really are out to get you?

          I crossed over to the 405 and stopped in Bellevue for gas, otherwise I’d be making my getaway on foot.  I leaned against the Jeep, ignoring the damp that seeped from the cold metal through my clothing, and debated the merits of taking the really scenic route of 101.  Or would they expect me to leave I-5 and thus making it the safer choice by hiding in plain sight?  My head was starting to hurt from trying to outthink them.

          The gas fumes seared my nose so I couldn’t smell the driver of the Mazda 3 that pulled up behind me until he approached the squeegee station between us.  Studiously avoiding eye contact, I screwed the cap back on and nestled the nozzle back in its hook.  Slowly, no sudden moves.

          I slid behind the wheel and as the engine turned over a cop car blazed into the station to block me against the Mazda.  It looks cool in the movies.  Less so if you’re the one trapped.  I shut off the engine, folded my arms, and leaned back in a huff.  My license and registration slipped through the three-inch gap at the top of the window.  I snatched them up and tossed them in my purse without pausing in my attempt to mentally set his car on fire.  Unfortunately, lycanthropy didn’t come with pyrokinesis.  In the movies fiery explosions usually follow when there are confrontations in gas stations.  Too bad life wasn’t imitating art in this case.

          “I take it you know the law.”  The scarred officer was not referring to any statutes written by man.  “You can either come and meet our Alpha or I can arrest you and then you can meet him.”  There was no threat in his words.  He sounded as if he were inviting me over for dinner, which might actually be the case.  I resisted the urge to hit the steering wheel.  It would likely crumple now that I had preternatural strength.

          “Fine.  So where am I following you to meet your lord and master?”

          “Matt here will be your driver,” he gestured to the guy who’d blocked me in.  Mazda Matt leaned against his car door with his arms folded across his chest, watching the exchange with a slight smirk.  “Shane will follow in your car.”  A third man I hadn’t noticed before was mirroring Matt’s pose on the other side of the car.

          I sighed and glanced at my phone.  Even if they let me use it, who would I call?  Hi big bro, I’m being kidnapped by werewolves.  Please send in the National Guard.  Tanks work against werewolves, right?  I kicked open the door, forcing the cop to quickly sidestep.  With a snarl on my lips, I chucked the heavy mass of keys attached to a carabiner at Shane.  Damned werewolf reflexes.  If he’d been human they’d have struck his temple and probably dropped him like a stone.

          Matt came forward as if to take my elbow and escort me.  “Touch me and I break your scaphoid.  They’re a bitch to heal even with regeneration,” I snapped.  Just because my wolf was happy about getting taken to meet their leader didn’t mean I had to be.  He drew back his hand, but he did open the door for me and waited till I buckled up before shutting the door.  Why buckle up if I could survive a trip through the windshield?  It’d still hurt like hell.

          “So I heard you’re from Portland,” Matt said as we merged back onto 405 in an attempt to fill the silence that was thick with my seething.

          “Look, I’m no doubt about to get grilled on all this anyway, so let’s skip the twenty questions, ok?”  He shrugged and didn’t seem put out by my rudeness.

          Eventually he turned on the radio.  I fiddled with it until finally settling on 107 the End.  I tried to suppress a smirk at his frown.  Judging by his pre-sets he liked the music just fine.  Not so much me taking control of it.  If some strange wolf was driving my Jeep, Mazda Matt could suck it up.  He should be glad I didn’t put it on country out of sheer spite.

          Thirty minutes later, due to traffic as opposed to distance, we pulled up in front of an expansive house partially obscured by trees.  I shuddered to think of the market value for the area.  They seemed to be having a party due to the sheer number of vehicles parked beside the house.  Shane pulled up as I trailed behind Matt to the door.

          The door opened to a large mudroom with hooks for coats and cubbies for shoes.  About half of them were in use.  Curiously, there were two utilitarian shower stalls that would have looked right at home in a locker room.  I followed Matt’s and Shane’s examples and removed my shoes, tucking them into one of the shelves.

          “We’re having a barbecue on Saturday, so a bunch of us are already here to watch the game,” Shane explained from behind me as I followed Matt down the hallway.  The sounds of men cheering or jeering at a TV screen echoed up from the basement.  My human half was worried about being in a house with a bunch of strange men.  My wolf on the other hand was curious and delighted by the mixture of scents that spoke of wolves.

          How to play this?  Be a general pain in the ass and risk the consequences?  Or be a good little submissive female and not only risk being assimilated, but also subordinate to everyone else.  I always believed in playing to one’s strengths, which meant plan A was go.  Besides, I’d never been accused of having the sense God gave a squirrel.

           Matt stopped by an open doorway and gestured for me to enter.  The man standing behind the desk was certainly not what I was expecting of an Alpha.  For starters, he didn’t look like an arrogant asshole.  Secondly, he was maybe an inch taller than me, and I was considered fairly short.  Underneath his wine, or perhaps blood-red dress shirt he was thin.  The only hint to his status was the intelligence lurking behind his dark eyes, which I merely glimpsed before lowering my own.

           “Welcome, Eleanor,” he came around to shake my hand.  I didn’t know if it was proper protocol or if he somehow knew that I was recently Changed and was sticking to familiar, human customs.  His grip was firm, not crushing like some men, and not too gentle as if he was afraid of breaking me.  It was a bit startling to actually be able to shake his hand properly instead of my hand simply being engulfed by his as was the case with most men.

          “I am Angus Hopper, Alpha of the Emerald City Pack.  You’ve made good time considering you left Revelstoke early this morning.”  Oh that was neatly done, putting me in my place by hinting that he knew more than I suspected, but not exactly how much.  “Have a seat,” he leaned his backside against the desk and gestured to one of the comfortable looking chairs.  It was an order, not an invitation.  And why was I reminded of being called to the principal’s office as written in a Penthouse letter?  Shoving aside x-rated thoughts involving school uniforms and corporal punishment, I tried to look as non-threatening as possible.

          “Been sittin’ in a car so long I’d rather stand if’s all the same.”  Eyes down, properly polite, and heavy on the Southern accent to hide any attitude.

          “I imagine,” he said with a small smile.  “So tell me how you came to be living in Portland, a city currently without a pack.”  Crap on a cracker, there’s no lying my way out of this one.  How does a city that size not have a werewolf pack?

          “I was Changed two-weeks ago,” I sighed and sat in the other chair in defeat, the one he had not indicated, forcing him to shift slightly to face me.  If he didn’t want small acts of defiance, then he shouldn’t have multiple options available.  “I was solo hikin’ in Glacier National Park an’ doin’ a little boulderin’.  One slip an’ I ended up with a broken spinal column at the bottom of a ravine.  By the time John found me, it was Change or die.  Chose what I thought was the lesser o’ two evils.  Stayed with him through the full moon an’ then headed home.”

          “Does John have a last name?” Angus asked with a frown.  My wolf worried that he was displeased with us.  I worried what that might mean for us if he was.

          “He said he’s old an’ the old ones don’t like to give their last names.”  I had to consciously square my shoulders, which had subconsciously rounded under his frown.  He nodded as if the answer wasn’t a surprise to him.

          “And he was willing to let you go so soon?” he asked with an arch of an eyebrow.  It really should be illegal for such a simple gesture to lend an irresistible quality when he was already handsome.  Or that could have just been my imagination because it was hard to read expressions from peripheral vision.

          “Not as such no,” I admitted reluctantly.  “I waited till he went out huntin’ then I booked it back down the mountain.”

          “Why did you feel the need to run?” he asked softly.  Even if I was brave enough to look him in the face I doubted that it would give any clue as to what that tone was in his voice.  I wasn’t necessarily a coward, but I was never comfortable discussing my personal life, let alone with strangers.  Focusing on the rug, or the bookcase, was easier than looking at him.

          “I got a job to get back to an’ I really wasn’t fond o’ the idea o’ bein’ stuck in the backwoods with a crazy old mountain man who’s also a werewolf.”  He was silent, obviously waiting for me to continue.  “I got the feelin’ that even if I was fully in control he wouldn’t let me leave.”

          Angus folded his arms in thought.  “Do you know where John lives?”

          “There’s a map in my glove box.  I could show ya the route to the cabin we stayed at.  There’re no roads, an’ it’s a bit of a hike in.”  Despite my best intentions to the contrary, I was cooperating.  I blamed my wolf, who was eager for his approval.  The Alpha obviously did not like what he was hearing, but it was rapidly becoming apparent that I was not his quarry so I was more than happy to keep him on that trail.  He caught the attention of either Shane or Matt behind me, and a moment later a door shut.  “But I did get the feelin’ that he moves around a lot.”

          “Eleanor,” he began.

          “Ellie, please.”  Angus did frown at the interruption, but hearing my horrible legal name, which the cop must have told him, was like having my fur rubbed the wrong way.

          “Ellie, you’re not in any trouble,” he said soothingly, as if I were a startled horse that might bolt.  Perhaps that analogy wasn’t too far off the mark considering I was practically vibrating with the need to run for the Jeep.  “The manner of your Change was highly unusual, bordering even on breaking our laws.”

          “The law says that no one may be Changed without their explicit permission.  I was coherent enough to give it.”  Ha, that caught him off guard.  That’s right, the newbie knows the rules of the game.  I might not remember anything else around the accident, but things like a weird, hairy mountain man offering to save your life by turning you into a monster tends to stick in a person’s memory.

          “That is true, yes.  However, the second law is that before someone is Changed they must undergo rigorous counseling and testing to determine whether they can become stable wolves,” the Alpha explained.  I forgot for a moment and stared into his dark eyes in shock that someone would make the choice deliberately rather than out of desperation.  I quickly looked away once the surprise faded.

          “A newly Changed wolf lacks control for their first few full moons and requires supervision for the first year,” he continued as if there was no breach of protocol.  “A pack is necessary to guide new wolves.”  He sounded like he had given this speech many times before.  Luckily, he didn’t succumb to dry monotones.

          “Which’s why I was goin’ to pack up an’ move somewhere rural enough I could run off a little steam,” I countered.  “Nurses are always needed everywhere.”

          “This is not just a ‘little steam,’ pup.”  I suppressed a flinch at his growl, as well as a snarl of my own at being called ‘pup.’  He took a deep breath, whether to calm himself or to continue his lecture I didn’t know because the sound of the door opening interrupted.  Shane handed Angus the familiar map, folded in my own fashion that in no way resembled its original creases.  Those things are impossible to refold properly, anyway.  After carefully moving a few items, he unfolded the map over his desk and handed me a pencil.

          “Here’s the trail head.”  I pointed to the circle already marking the spot on Highway 1.  “He follows the main trail through this valley.”  I pointed at the trail, which was already marked from my planning before the trip from hell.  The accent softened as I talked and forgot to maintain it.  “At about here he branches off at different angles each time so that his trail, not being well worn, is hard to pick up until you’re further out and know what you’re looking for.”  I marked an X where I’d gotten lost and decided to just keep following the river down until I found either a trail, humans, or the highway.  “Follow the river up and at the very edge of the park he’s got a cabin right about here.”  I drew a paw print on the spot.  “With the climb in elevation, it would’ve taken me about two days before… before.  Downhill with a light pack, I made it in around eight hours.”

          “Does that say ‘Dogtooth Range’?” Shane asked with a hint of a wry smile.

          “Could’ve been worse.  He could’ve gone for the really obvious with either Grey Fang or Fang Rock,” I smirked and pointed out the so named peaks on the other side of the park.  He snorted a chuckle.

          “You didn’t go to the authorities.”  It was a statement, not a question.

          “And end up in a secret government facility?” I scoffed.  “No thank you.”

          “Where did you stop to rest?” asked Angus.

          “I didn’t.”

          “Fatigue can be as dangerous as alcohol,” he frowned.

          “Have caffeine, will travel,” I quipped.

          “Even though your endurance has improved, you still need rest.  Exhaustion erodes control.”  And back into lecture mode.

          “Like I said, I’m a nurse.  Pulling doubles, even triples, isn’t unusual,” I countered.

          “You passed through the territories of four different packs.”  Someone had probably pulled my credit card history to follow my route in retrospect.  That was fast work, and most definitely illegal.  “How did you avoid detection?”

          “Didn’t stop more’n absolutely necessary,” I shrugged.  “And when I did, I tried to not get out of the car.  Drive-thru, avoided pumping my own gas where I could.”

          With a few taps Angus called someone on his cellphone.  He had to swipe his fingerprint to unlock it, first.  It even had one of those heavy-duty cases, which was probably a good investment for a werewolf.  “Hello, Angus.”  It was still weird how much my hearing had improved, especially back in civilization.

          “Hello, Bran.”  Aw, son of a biscuit.  I really did not want to show up on the Marrock’s radar.  Angus gave a concise report of everything that had happened to me since the accident, as far as he knew, including the pathetic getaway attempt.  I sat back down for the uncomfortable reprise.

          “Send me the map and I’ll have Charles look into it.”  I wasn’t certain how I felt about having just signed John’s death warrant.  The old werewolf wasn’t too specific when he talked about the Grand High Poobah of North America, but he was clear that any time the Marrock sent someone blood was spilled.  “How is she getting on with your pack?”

          “She’s a touch overwhelmed so I thought it best to wait before introducing them en masse.”  I glared at Angus from under lowered lashes, which is harder to do than you would think without looking coy or drunk.

          “If she chooses, escort her to Eugene.  Otherwise I will send someone to fetch her here until she decides where to settle,” Bran said.  My scowl deepened and I opened my mouth to tell them exactly what I thought of their plans.  Shane shook his head almost imperceptibly in warning, though there was more empathy than condemnation in the movement.

          “Please give my greetings to Anna and Charles.”

          “I will.”  The call abruptly ended from the other end.  Our King of the Werewolves was not one for drawn out goodbyes.  Angus took a couple of pictures of the map and sent them off with thumbs flying across the screen fast enough to make a teenager jealous.  Then he did the most supernatural act I’d seen out of a werewolf yet: he carefully folded the map along the original fold lines before handing it back to me.

          I doubled it over and shoved it in my back pocket as I stood.  “If you’ll excuse me, I would like to make it home in time for my shift tomorrow night.”  Although I kept my eyes on the bookshelf, I could feel his stare boring through me till my knees threatened to turn to Jell-O.  Locking one’s knees is a surefire way to eventually pass out, but is effective in the short term.

          “I’m afraid that you will have to change careers.  Even old wolves can have problems around so much blood and the vulnerable.”  The bastard actually managed to sound regretful.

          “I have neither the money nor the inclination to go back to school.  Not to mention I’m a little old for that.”  Must not growl at the Alpha, I mentally chanted for the benefit of my human half.

          “Loans can be arranged, and I’ve known werewolves who were alive when the Magna Carta was signed and earned their doctorate two or three times over.”  He sounded so cool and collected as if we weren’t discussing what was the beginning of what was theoretically to be my extremely long life.  “The more immediate issue is how much control you have.”

          “If I don’t get my act together by this time next year I’m put down.”  Don’t know why I spared him when it would have been so much more fun to watch him squirm.

          “Not only that, but you must be able to shift form and back at will.”  People go through that much pain willingly?  “New wolves need a pack to teach them control and to prevent unnecessary bloodshed when the wolf takes over until control is regained.  We cannot afford one mistake lest we all disappear into secret government facilities at best, or hunted down and exterminated at worst.”  Angus’ voice achieved a deeper timbre that coiled through the room like some living thing as he seemed to be losing patience.  “You will stay the night here.  In the morning Shane and Matt will escort you to Eugene to be presented to the pack there.”  Ooh, presented like a gift.  Who could resist such a command?  Oddly enough, my wolf did not like this plan either, but not because of the authoritarianism.

          “And if I don’t want to join a pack?”  It’s difficult to arch an eyebrow effectively while avoiding eye contact.  But not impossible.

          “That is not an option,” he shook his head.  “Even if you were not so new, our females are so rare they not allowed to become lone wolves.”  That’s what John had said, but I hoped that it was a lie to keep me from leaving.  The whole damn lot of them were so possessive it’s a wonder they even realized they were in the 21st century.  And I didn’t belong to anyone.  Not any more.

          “Fine.  But I’ve driven from here to Eugene many times so I think we can dispense with the escort.”  I waved vaguely over my shoulder to where Shane still lurked by the door.

          “That is non-negotiable.  As a dominant male and even more so as an Alpha I have a responsibility to see a submissive female delivered safely to another pack.”  Oh bloody hell.  John was right.  They could tell from one’s energy, no matter how much I tried to hide behind my sass.  “Not all dominants that you might meet along the way would be as tolerant of your attitude as I am.”

          “More arbitrary rules from on high,” I said flatly and folded my arms.  “Tell me, is His Furriness one of those at the signing of the Magna Carta?  No wonder ya’ll’s thinking’s so medieval.”

          Angus grabbed me by the back of the neck and snarled in my face.  Reflexively, I stiffened and closed my eyes to avoid looking at him.  His grip was tight, but not painful.  One quick twist and he could snap my neck.  I was pretty sure that was one injury from which there was no recovery.

          “The Marrock set down our laws for reasons you cannot yet comprehend.  You don’t have to understand our ways yet, but before God you will show respect,” he snarled.  There wasn’t anything I could say to that, so with an involuntary shudder I went limp in his grasp as my wolf temporarily took over.  Well, there were things I could say, but self-preservation and my wolf stayed my tongue.  After a minute, he released me, stepped away, and turned his back.  The strength I had just experienced first hand was evident in the taut lines of his wiry shoulders.

          My heart pounded in my throat while in the back of my head my wolf howled her anguish at having been chastised.  As a result, my self-preservation went right out the window.  “My respect is earned, not freely given.  If I’d realized that my choices consisted of which pack I was going to be the lowest bitch in, I’d have told John to bugger off.”  At least he’d have made sure that it was quick and clean.

          The Alpha breathed deeply and was quiet for exactly ten seconds.  Basic relaxation techniques to manage the beast within?  And they thought they could teach me something in that area?  When he was done, but not noticeably calmer, he turned around to lean against the desk again.  “We have a rigorous screening process to avoid situations like this.  Dominant lone wolves are the last people who should be teaching pack structure to a submissive female.”

          “Please stop using that term.”

          “‘Female’?”

          “Used as an adjective, it refers to a person.  As a noun, it denotes something less than human.  An animal.”  Like breeding pairs.  Good thing I never wanted to procreate anyway.

          “Get used to the terminology.”  If he were human, he’d have developed a new frown line from this conversation alone.  “In the constant struggles for dominance, females and submissives are the center of a pack since they do not rise in rank, except for when their mate does in the case of females.”  If I didn’t like ‘female,’ I despised ‘mate,’ which seemed a ridiculous term for a species that couldn’t bear children.  “With submissives, dominants don’t have to constantly watch their back.  And the pack will unite to protect these weaker members.”  Oh if he thought I was weak, he had another thing coming.  “Female submissives are so valued that any pack would welcome you.”  ‘Submissive’ as a noun was definitely not an improvement.  “But none would tolerate your disrespect for long.”

          “That’s exactly why I should just be on my merry way,” I said brightly.  “I’m really more trouble than I’m worth.”

          “Nice try,” he smirked.  “Dinner is in thirty minutes.  You’ll want to freshen up.”  True to my nature I wanted to deny hunger despite not having eaten since well before the border crossing.  I’d worn the same clothes for the past twenty-four hours straight, which included a frantic run down a mountain through unfamiliar woods, and my hands still smelled like gasoline.

          I was still noticing just how many interesting smells I was covered in when a tall, perky blonde swept through the door.  She must have practically been listening down the hallway, not that, that was necessary.  Everyone in the house had probably heard me mouthing off.  I’d forgotten about that.  Great first impression.

          “Please show Ellie to the guest suite.”  Mickayla gave a sloppy salute, earning a scowl from her fearless leader, then cocked her head in silent invitation to follow her.

          “You’re up on the second floor,” she said as she led me upstairs.  “Hopefully you’re not afraid of heights after your accident,” she grinned.

          “Are you kidding?  I’ve always wanted to try free climbing, but was too scared.  Now I totally want to,” I said.

          “Don’t mention that to any of the guys or they’ll have kittens.”  Her golden laugh bounced through the stairway.

          “Now I’m picturing a bunch of them at the base of a cliff with a giant trampoline like in cartoons when there’s a fire,” I chuckled and she joined me.

          “This is you,” she waved a welcoming arm through an open doorway.  “Matt already brought your backpack and duffel up.”  My bags were indeed sitting on a low, wide dresser against the nearest wall.  The queen bed with its elegant down comforter faced the door.  A door on the right led to a bathroom, although I had no idea how I was going to be able to do my business in a house full of people who could hear through walls.

          “Thanks.”

          “No worries.  You need anything you just give a shout.  Wait, you’re new.  No actual shouting necessary, just a sort of ‘hey’ so we know you’re not talking to yourself,” she winked.

          “Um, Mickayla?”  She turned back to me.  “What’s it like being in a pack?”

          She stepped into the room with a small smile and shut the door behind her, for all the good that would do.  “I don’t know this John, but sometimes wolves go lone because they can’t handle being in a pack.”

          “Yeah, he did seem more than a little biased.”  I dug out the Ziploc of toiletries and the bundle that was the last clean outfit I’d originally saved for the last day of the drive home, but didn’t dare stop long enough along the way to change.

          “Think of a healthy pack more as one big family.”  Mickayla flopped onto the bed with one leg tucked up under her, yet kept her voice low enough to not carry.  “Complete with the usual amount of dysfunction and bickering.  They’re really like a bunch of brothers, uncles, and cousins who are all trying to protect the little sister.”

          As she talked, I leaned against the bathroom doorway and started to brush my teeth.  They had fuzzy sweaters from the energy drinks I’d downed to stay awake.  “But then again, I’m married,” she continued.  “If you’re single then the unmated ones will all come sniffing around.  It’s not that bad!” she laughed at my expression of dawning horror.  “Even if any of them would push their luck and call down the wrath of their Alpha, the closest dom would thrash them, or if they couldn’t, tag someone in who could.  Mind you, I’m only talking about the Emerald City Pack.  I was Changed two years ago because my mate, Matt, was already a wolf.  Before that there were no other girls for I don’t know how long.”

          “They weren’t kidding when they said that women are rare,” I said around the toothbrush and foam that probably made me look rabid.  She laughed again, although it was hard to tell whether it was at my surprise or the toothpaste.

          “We’re more functional than not here.  But there are some stories out there of Alphas who went bad.  I don’t know much about the Eugene pack, but I haven’t heard any horror stories either,” she shrugged.  “You know, it’s funny, women are supposed to be huge gossips, but most werewolves are men and we all gossip worse than any housewife.”  I laughed and promptly choked, so I shut the bathroom door and started the shower as I finished brushing.

          “You’re going to need to get over that modesty.”  Mickayla’s voice was easily heard through the door and over the running water.

          “Oh?” I asked archly.  She couldn’t see the glare through the door as I undressed.

          “It’s incredibly painful to shift while wearing clothes.  So pack runs, full moons…”

          “I’ve just been told I have to switch careers, move to a new city, am no longer allowed to leave town without a babysitter, and when it comes to my place in a pack my only option is which one do I want to be at the bottom of the pecking order in.  Oh, and all the single guys will be eyeing me like a juicy steak.  Now you’re telling me I have to become an exhibitionist?  No thank you, I’m going to maintain whatever little control over my life I have left.”  It took all my willpower to not punch something.  If I had to move and look for work there was no way I could afford to replace anything in this bathroom, too.

          “If the pack’s good, you’ll be on a pedestal, more or less, not the low man on the totem pole.”

          “Great, I always wanted to be Princess Peach stuck in the castle,” I muttered sarcastically.  “I’ll see you downstairs.”

          “Ellie, I promise that it’s not as bad as it seems,” she said before leaving.

          I stood lost in thought in my office for some time after she left, bathed in the complex layers of smells that confirmed her story.  Mountain air, evergreens, sweat both old and nervous, gasoline, fast food, and no small amount of stress.  Amidst the melange was a thread of fear.  If it was any stronger, I would have called Alan, the pack’s only submissive, to come and help calm her before everyone got riled up trying to fix whatever upset her.  But under the circumstances, her fear was to be expected.  And he was working tonight.

          Tension had been running high in the pack ever since we went public.  Another submissive to ease the strain would be a boon, and a second medic would not go amiss.  Her presence would stir up a rash of dominance fights among the unmated males until she starting seeing someone.  That is, if she could be housebroken.  Time would show whether her defiance was born of ignorance or emotional pressure.  Her knowledge of our primary laws would suggest the latter, though I preferred to avoid premature conclusions.

          A younger wolf, or one who wasn’t as high in the hierarchy, might find such calculations cold, especially in regards to a submissive female whose Change had been particularly traumatic.  But you don’t get to be an old Alpha without assessing the strengths and weaknesses of your pack members and determining how they can best be used for the betterment of the whole.

          As much as I was loath to let her leave, even if the Marrock hadn’t mandated, protocol and courtesy demanded that the Eugene pack have right of first refusal.  Appropriate that Eugene was also referred to as the Emerald City, but we had claimed the name before the Portland pack had relocated there.  Ordinarily I would have my second, Tom, call to arrange things with the other pack, but the unique situation and the fact that he was on duty called for a personal touch, even if my third, Shane, wasn’t preparing for the trip.  Besides, their Alpha, Colin, would be pissed if I dropped this grenade, no matter how attractive or useful she was, in his lap without warning.  No, not a bomb.  Panicked ferret, maybe.  Still not pleasant, but not as disastrous.  And they could be cute, when they weren’t baring their teeth.

          Stifling a sigh, I found Colin’s cell number in my phone and called him up.

Notes: This was written two years ago and was my first fan fiction and my first attempt at writing over 10 years.

Matt and Shane live in Redmond, thus why they were able to carpool so quickly. It was sheer luck that they spotted the lime green, mud-splattered Jeep as they headed down the 405 after Tom asked them to try and track her while he covered I-5 South. Of course, Ellie didn't know that, nor does she think it's lucky at all.

Ellie was hiking along the easterly side of Glacier National Park of Canada in BC, not too far from Revelstoke, which has some great hot springs, by the way.

[originalhybridloverfics]

Bodyguard CH5

Oliver groaned reaching for his phone on his nightstand that was going off, he blinked the sleep from his eyes as he glanced at the screen that was far too bright in his near pitch black room. His brow furrowed as he saw not only the time but the name that flashed across the screen as well.

Why was Detective Lance calling him at two in the morning? He swiped his thumb over the answer button. "Detective Lance?" his voice came out gruff with sleep.

"Queen," Quinten Lance's voice came over the line. "I have no time for pleasantries."

Oliver frowned at his short attitude. "What's wrong? Why are you calling me this late? Is this about another girl you need Felicity to take in?"

"This is about her. There was a disturbance called in at her address-"

Oliver's heart pounded in his chest and he didn't need to hear more than the fact that something had happened at Felicity's. He dropped his phone on the mattress as he quickly climbed out of bed throwing on the first pair of jeans he could find, slipping his shoes on quickly. He could faintly hear Lance's voice calling out to him thinly from his phone. He didn't bother with a shirt and simply pulled on one of his gray zip-up hoodies, grabbing the keys from his apartment he was out the door, forgetting to grab his phone.

He swore to God if Felicity wasn't alright he was going to hurt someone. More than likely kill someone.

                                          ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Felicity sighed as she rubbed her temples, her foot stinging from standing on the open cut as she tried to answer all the questions the police were throwing at her.

She hadn’t planned on calling the cops, wanting to handle this herself but that didn’t seem to matter since her neighbor Mrs. Deloris was the one to call the cops, having heard glass breaking and had gotten a little-frightened someone was breaking in.

"Mrs. Smoak?" Felicity looked up to see Detective Lance approaching her.

"Detective Lance? What are you doing here?" she frowned.

"You think when your place came across the scanner I wasn't going to book it here?" He shot her an incredulous look. "Are you alright? What happened?"

Felicity opened her mouth to reply when the sound of screeching tires sounded, her brow furrowed. "You didn't call Dig or Oliver on your way over here did you?" She hadn't planned on keeping this from them. Just downplaying it a bit because they were worried about her enough as it was. If they knew what happened she knew for sure she wouldn't be shaking their concerns off any longer.

Lance frowned at her. "You need to take this more seriously. And if you won't let Oliver know, I will."

No sooner has the words left his mouth she could hear the front door being thrown open, hitting against the wall and Oliver striding into the room, looking like a man on a mission, a storm brewing in his eyes. "Felicity!"

"You can't be here sir." An officer stopped him. "This is a crime scene."

"Get out of my way. Now!" He growled, eyes glaring darkly. He needed to get to Felicity make sure she was alright.

"Sir, I don't know who you are. You need to leave."

Oliver's fist clenched the veins in his arms bunching. "I'm not going anywhere. Move." Oliver was barely keeping himself from knocking out the officer who was only doing his job. "Where's the woman that lives here? Where's Felicity?!"

"Sir, I won't say it again. You need-"

"It's alright, Let him through." Detective Lance called out and Oliver looked up to see him standing with Felicity, dressed in only a pair of pajama pants and a tank top. Relief hit him at the sight of her relatively unharmed.

He pushed past the officer with eyes only for her. "Felicity,"

"I'm alright," she assured him as he came forward. "I'm fine. Nothi-" She cut off mid-sentence in surprise as Oliver wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight to him. The move was so sudden and unexpected she fell silent.

His arms around her caused a wave of emotions to hit her and she slowly brought her arms up, hands on his sides just as he was pulling back, hands on her shoulders. "Are you okay? Were you hurt? What happened?"

"I'm fine. I wasn't hurt. And-"

"Miss Smoak, I need you to sit down so I can take a look at your cuts." She was cut off by the paramedic.

"Cuts!?" Oliver's eyes widened. "Where?" he took a step back running his eyes over her form from head to toe.

Felicity sighed. "My foot just got cut by a little glass, it's not a big deal."

"You said you weren't hurt." A muscle in his jaw ticked, showing his upset.

"I wasn't." She tried to maneuver her way around the broken glass on the floor. "Stupid glass is everywh- Oliver!" she yelped in surprise clutching at his shoulders as he suddenly scooped her up into his arms, carrying her out of the room and over to her kitchen, the paramedic and Lance following behind them.

"You're bleeding, You were hurt." he set her on the counter, stepping to the side so the paramedic could do his job. "What happened?"

Felicity sighed as the paramedic began looking at her foot, cleaning the blood away and looking for any glass.

"It doesn't look like you'll need stitches. But you'll need to keep the wound clean and stay off your foot for the first couple days so these cuts can heal properly." The paramedic talked as he used anti-septic on foot before bandaging it and wrapping it.

Felicity waited till the paramedic was done before answering. "I don't know. I was sleeping. I woke when I heard a window shatter. I went to investigate, found the window broken."

"You should have called me." Oliver frowned intensely. "What if it hadn't been just a broken window? What if someone had broken in? You could have been seriously hurt or worst."

"But I wasn't," Felicity argued. "Everything's fine."

Oliver scowled, clenching his jaw. "Everything is not fine. Nothing about what happened tonight is fine, Felicity."

Felicity sighed, pushing her hair back away from her face, "I didn't want to worry any-"

"What the hell happened to your wrist?!" while the words were said with anger, his hands were gentle as he cradled her arm, looking closing at the bruise coloring the skin of her wrist.

"I thought you said no one had broken in?" Lance leveled her with a disapproving look.

"They didn't." she tried to pull her hand back but Oliver was unrelenting as he cradled her hand, examining it.

"Then how did that happen?" Lance questioned, raising one eyebrow at her.

"I had a run-in with a man earlier at a diner." She reluctantly admitted.

"What man?" Oliver finally dropped her hand but he looked even more upset then a moment ago.

"Just some man. I don't know who he was." She mumbled, avoiding looking at Oliver.

"Fe-li-ci-ty." he dragged her name out by every syllable and she felt a shiver run down her spine, the way he said her name doing things to her she didn't have time to put a name to. "The truth. Please."

"It was Gina's ex." She found herself answering him with the way he was looking at her. " I went by Big Belly Burger to get some food and he confronted me about her as I was leaving. Made some threats. When I tried to walk past him, he grabbed my arm." Oliver swore his expression darkening. "But I was fine, Jes-"

The sound of her house phone ringing sounded and she moved to get down from the counter.

"No. I'll get it." Oliver moved toward her house phone, answering it on the fifth ring. "What?" he barked into the line.

"Oliver?" Oliver could hear the confusion in Digg's voice. "What are you doing at Felicity's? Is she alright? Did Jessi call you too? Is that why you're at her place?"

"Jessi?" Oliver's face scrunched up in confusion. "Why would Jessi call me?"

"Felicity was there. He said some asshole had been watching her and that he had some kind of encounter with her as she was leaving. Jessi chased the guy off and made sure she got to her car safely."

"Why did he call you and not me?" Oliver frowned.

"Because I'm more approachable." Digg's tone was dry. "This happened earlier. I just now got his voice message. He left it for me a few hours ago," There was a pause. "Wait, if Jessi didn't call you. Why are you at her place?"

“Someone broke into her home.” Oliver’s jaw clenched.

“What? Are you there with her? Is Felicity okay?” Dig demanded tone full of concern.

“Yes, I’m with her now. She’ll be okay.” Oliver said he would make sure of it.

“I’m on my way. Don’t leave her on her own.” Digg hung up before Oliver could respond.

Oliver placed the phone back into the receiver. “Digg is on his way.”

Felicity sighed. “He doesn’t need to do that. I’m fine.”

“He’s your friend, he found out you had an altercation with a man earlier tonight and then he finds out that someone broke into your own. Of course, he’s going to be here.” Oliver moved back over to her, his hand landing on her shoulder. “When were you going to tell me what happened earlier tonight?”

“I was just telling you before Digg called,” she said rather defensively. Okay, she hadn’t planned on saying anything but Oliver didn’t need to know that.

“And if I hadn’t seen your wrist would you still have said something?” He asked sharply. “Or would Digg and I know about it because of Jessi?”

Felicity pursed her lips. Damn it, she knew Jessi’s heart was in the right place but why couldn’t he just keep what had happened at the diner between them?

“Right,” said Oliver with a shake of his head. “When are you going to start taking this more seriously. This is your life-”

“Your right it is my life.” Felicity cut him off, raising her chin stubbornly. “Which makes it my choice.”

Oliver threw his arms out in frustration. “Your choices are going to get you killed!”

“Maybe you just need to have a little faith that I know what I’m doing!” Felicity snapped back at him.

“Well do you? Because from where I’m standing you don’t! You're being reckless.” His body was tense, his fist clenching at his side, jaw clenching, his blue eyes were a darker shade than she was used to. “I’m not going to stand by and let you get yourself killed! I can’t!”

Felicity's eyes widened, her heart skipping a beat about how passionate he sounded and his need to keep her safe.

“Alright, how about we take this down a notch.” Lance interrupted having watched them go back and forth.

Oliver clenched his jaw, sending a glare at Lance for the interruption.

Lance focused on Felicity. “I’m gonna need you to give me your full statement.” He didn’t want to have to make her come down to the station after everything she’d been through tonight.

“Alright.” Felicity nodded, pulling her gaze from Oliver.

Lance pulled out his notepad to take down her statement.

Fifteen minutes later Felicity was almost finished giving Lance her full statement when Digg came striding through the door, officers parting as his large frame moved through the room. “Felicity, thank God, you’re alright.” he walked right up to her and hugged her gingerly.

“I’m fine,” Felicity told him as he pulled back looking at her full of concern while also appearing calm.

“Nothing about this is fine.” Oliver stood to her side, arms crossed over his chest.

Digg looked at Oliver. “What happened?” he knew Oliver wouldn’t downplay it the way Felicity would have.

“Someone threw a rock through her window.” Oliver ground out, turning his intense gaze on Felicity. “And she doesn’t see how much worse this could have been.”

Felicity rubbed her forehead in frustration. “I’m not going to keep arguing with you about this, Oliver.”

“No, he’s right, Felicity,” Digg interjected, tone grave. “What if it hadn’t been just a rock? What if someone would have just broken in here? You could have been seriously hurt or worse and then where would we be?”

Felicity was about to respond but was cut off by Detective Lance speaking. “I understand that there was a note, wasn’t there?”

“Yes.” Felicity answered reluctantly casting dreaded looks at Oliver and Digg.

Lance waved an officer over and he handed an evidence bag and inside was the note, he read the message out loud. “I don't care what I have to do to get what's mine. Even if I have to go through you. You should be more careful. You never know when someone is watching and I can promise you I am watching your every move, Felicity Smoak.” Lance looked up at Felicity worry clear in his expression. “Do you have an idea who might have done this?”

“No. In my line of work I’ve gained a lot of enemies.” Felicity answered, casting looks at Oliver and Digg for their reaction.

Digg had crossed his arms and was side-eying her, giving her one of his Digg’s look that basically said she was smarter than this.

Oliver.. Oliver was a whole ‘nother story. He was clenching and unclenching his jaw his eyes were dark with anger, his back rigid and the set of his shoulders tense, his hands were tightened into fists so tightly the white bone of his knuckles could be seen beneath his skin. “You…” he looked at her with an unreadable look in his eyes that she couldn’t decipher. “Whoever the fuck did this left a note like that and you weren’t going to tell me about it?” he asked lowly.

“I didn’t want you or Digg to worry,” Felicity admitted, feeling guilt for her intentions of keeping something from them.

“Well, that’s just too fucking bad. Because I am worried!” Oliver all but exploded, his cheeks flushing red in anger. “How the hell am I supposed to protect you if you won’t let me do my damn job?!”

Felicity bristled at the notion that she needed a man’s protection. “I can protect myself!”

“But you shouldn’t have to!” He returned heatedly. “If you stopped being stubborn for five freaking minutes you would see that all I want is to keep you safe!!”

Felicity opened her mouthing but nothing came out, she shut it, staring back at him, her chest felt tight, her heart skipping a beat in her chest at his words. His blue eyes were so intense it felt like they were piercing through her.

“Alright, let’s take this down a notch.” Digg gave them both a look before turning back to Detective Lance. “I’ll write up a list of possible suspects who did this and get it to you first thing in the morning.”

Lance nodded. “Good, it could help us find out who did this.” he focused his gaze back on Felicity. “Do you want to press charges on the guy who did that?” he nodded his head at her bruised wrist.

Felicity shook her head. “No. I wasn’t seriously hurt.”

Lance frowned wanting to argue but just shook his head. He really wished she would take her own safety more seriously. “I don’t agree but it’s your decision. I will advise that you reconsider and you shouldn’t stay here alone at least not until the situation is taken care of.”

“I can’t go anywhere else. This is my home.” Felicity shook her head.

“And it’s not exactly safe at the moment and you’re a young woman living alone,” Lance stressed. “You need to be serious about this. Your safety is important.”

“She’ll be safe.” Oliver cut in. “She’ll be staying with me.”

“What?” Felicity’s head whipped toward him, eyes wide. “No, I’m not.”

“Either you stay with me or I stay here with you crashing right outside your bedroom door,” Oliver warned, he wasn’t joking. If she was insisting on staying here then he would make damn sure he was close in case something happened again.

“Digg,” Felicity turned to her longtime friend and partner. “Would you be the voice of reason and talk some sense into him.”

“No, I'm with Oliver on this one,” he said much to her surprise. “If you want to stay here you better be prepared for two guard dogs cause I can’t let you stay here on your own in good conscious. Or you could come home with me. Lyla and I have a guest room.”

“I can’t impose on you and Lyla like that.” she protested immediately.

“You wouldn’t be.” he said.

“No.” Felicity told him.

“So what’s it gonna be then?” asked Oliver, his eyes unrelenting. “The two of us standing guard at your door or my place where it’s secure.”

Felicity didn’t want them standing guard at her bedroom door like guard dogs but she also didn’t want to impose on Diggle and Lyla. “Alright, fine.” she looked at Lance. “I’ll be staying with Oliver until this is cleared up.” she shot Oliver a glare. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic!” He deadpanned.

Lance nodded, relieved to know she would be in good hands. “You can get a few things and go, my officers and I will wrap things up here. You can stop by the station tomorrow with Mr. Diggle with that list.”

Felicity pushed off the counter. “I just need to get a few things.”

                                                ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The ride to Oliver’s place was a tense and silent one. Diggle had returned home once he was sure she was fine and she would be safe with Oliver.

Felicity found herself watching Oliver, his muscles were rigid with tension. The way his hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly the white of his knuckles shown through his skin. The way he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

She broke the silence in the car when she could no longer take the tense atmosphere between them. “Are you gonna say something?”

He shot a quick look at her his eyes angry but he said nothing, turning his gaze back on the road.

“I get it you’re angry but-”

“There is no but about it. Of course, I’m angry.” he said heatedly. “You could have been seriously hurt tonight and you weren’t even going to call me.”

“I don’t have to call you every time something goes wrong. I won’t rely on you that much.” Felicity felt her own anger rising.

“But I want you to.” his voice raised. “I want to be there when you need me, I want to be the one you turn to.”

The thought of needing someone put her on edge. “Well, I don’t want to need you.”

“Right.” it came out through clench teeth as he glared out at the road ahead.

Felicity winced, that came out worse than she had intended. “I don’t want to need anyone, Oliver.”

“No,” he shook his head, his hands tightening even further on the wheel. “I got it.”

She pursed her lips as the car came to a sudden stop. Felicity looked out to see they were parked out in front of a two-story brownstone.

Oliver, turned off the ignition, climbing out of the car. “C’mon.” Felicity sighed, closing the door behind her as he reached into the backseat for her bag. She followed him silently up the steps, she tapped her foot as he put the key into the lock, opening the door and gesturing for her to go inside.

She stepped inside and after closing the door behind them, Oliver brushed past her. “I’ll show you to the guest room.”

Felicity followed him through his home, looking around and saw it was pretty much what most bachelor pads looked like, stainless steel tables, leather couches, and furniture, though there were a couple family photos.

“This way.” Felicity followed him down the hall, he pushed a door open, walking inside and setting her bag on the Queen size mattress.

Felicity glanced around the room as she stepped inside.

“The bathroom is one door down to the left and my room is just across the hall. If you need anything let me know.” he clenched his jaw. “Or don’t since that is what you prefer.”

He closed the door behind him before she could respond and she heaved a long drawn out sigh, flopping down onto the bed, throwing an arm over her eyes.

Ugh, clearly Oliver was really upset with her. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

                                                     ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Oliver stared up at his ceiling, unable to fall to sleep, he turned his head looking out his bedroom door that he left open in case Felicity actually needed anything. His brow furrowed. He couldn’t understand her reluctance to let him in. Was it something he did wrong?

If it was he wish she would just tell him what it was he did that made her not want his help.

Why was it so hard for her to just let him be there? That’s all he wanted.

He wanted to be the one she turned to, the one she relied on. The one she needed.

He just wanted to keep her safe because the thought of her being hurt, ripped at his chest like an open wound and lit a fire inside him he wasn’t sure he could control.

He was unsure of why she refused to let him help her but he did know one thing. He would find out who was behind tonight’s events and he would put the fear of God into him and if whoever it was came near her again he would kill him.

                                                    ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Felicity spent the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Her fight with Oliver bothered her more than she’d like to admit.

When morning came it was almost a relief, she didn’t have to keep up the pretense of trying and failing to get a decent night sleep.

She walked out of the guest bedroom, clothes in hand to take a shower, she chanced a glance into his room through the open doorway but she didn’t see him. She pursed her lips wondering where he could be?

She walked toward the bathroom door, noticing it was closed and thought maybe he was in there. She raised her arm, her hand poised to knock just as the door opened, revealing a freshly showered Oliver, wearing nothing but a towel low on his waist.

She felt her breath hitch, her eyes focusing in on the bare chest in front of her and the most perfect abs she saw in her entire life. She just might have swallowed her damn tongue.

Her eyes traced every dip and line in his perfectly defined body. She held her arms more tightly to her own body when she felt the urge to trace his every muscle line with her hands. It wasn’t like it was the first time she saw him shirtless, she seen him spar with Digg with no shirt multiple times, but his skin was still wet and there was a lone drop of water traveling down his chest and she wanted nothing more than to lick that single drop, swiping her tongue against his flesh.

Jesus, what was wrong with her? Oliver was her employee but more importantly, he was her friend. You weren’t supposed to be thinking these kinds of thoughts about your friends.

“Felicity?”

When she felt his hand lay atop her shoulder, she jerked her gaze up to find him watching her, speaking her name. Her face flushed with embarrassment realizing he had been talking to her the whole time she’d been ogling him. “Hmm?”

“Did you need to use the bathroom?” he questioned, his mouth pulling into a frown. “Are you alright? You seem out of it.”

“No, no, no, I’m fine.” she said quickly. Too quickly. “I’m just still half alseep.” she lied, forcing a smile she hoped was convincing. “But after a shower, I’m sure I’ll be more awake.”

Oliver dropped his hand, stepping to the side so she could get to the bathroom. “The water's still hot, there are towels on the shelf and a new toothbrush inside the cabinet.”

Felicity watched as he walked to his room, the muscles in his back shifting, once his bedroom door closed behind him, she shook her head, closing the bathroom door behind her and leaning against it. “You cannot have lustful thoughts about Oliver.” she told her. “You absolutely can’t do that.”

But who was she kidding? She totally just had those exact thoughts about his amazingly perfect abs.

Damn him and his stupid amazing abs.

                                          ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Felicity wandered through Oliver's home following the scent of freshly brewed coffee and she was pretty sure she smelled bacon and pancakes.

And found Oliver with his back to her, now fully clothed as he cooked pancakes on the stove. “That smells good.”

“I thought I make us some breakfast before we head to the shelter.” Oliver turned off the stove and moved the finished pancakes from the pan to a plate on the kitchen island before moving and retrieving two plates from the overhead cabinet.

“Would you mind if I help myself to a cup of coffee?” Felicity wondered.

“Make yourself at home.” Oliver placed pancakes on both plates and sat the proper silverware beside them.

Felicity moved around reaching for a cup in the cupboard, pouring herself a cup and making it how she liked it. She could feel Oliver’s eyes on her as she moved to take a seat at the island.

A silence fell between them as he took the seat beside her. She felt like there was this divide between them that hadn’t been there before last night.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Felicity commented to fill the silence.

When nothing but silence followed she thought he wasn’t going to respond at all until he said. “I don’t get to do it that often.”

Felicity nodded, lifting her fork and take a bite of the pancakes, her eyes widening at just how good they were. “Wow,” she said after a moment. “That’s is really good. I can’t cook to save my life. I burn water. Where did you learn to cook so well?”

Felicity waited for him to respond but he never did, she looked over at him to see his gaze was focused on her. Or more precisely on her wrist which had turned a dark purple in the shape of fingers encircling her wrist. “Oliver?”

She waved her hand in front of him and his gaze snapped back to hers. “What?”

Felicity sighed, placing her fork down and turned to him more fully. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just..” He clenched his jaw. “I can’t understand how you take everyone’s safety seriously when you won’t even take your own safety into account.”

“Oliver, it’s not that I don’t take my own safety into account.” She told him, wrapping her hand around her coffee cup and feeling the warmth.

“Then what is it? Because from where I sitting that’s what it looks like. Why didn’t you call me? Or Digg?”

“I told you last night I didn’t want to need anyone.”

“I remember.” Oliver's voice was low and she could hear the slight twinge of bitterness.

“When I was with my ex, Cooper, he made feel like he was the only thing I could depend on. Made me feel like I couldn’t even depend on myself.” Felicity found herself saying, wanting to be honest with Oliver. “But I can depend on myself now. I know how capable I am and I won’t let anyone tell me different.”

The frustration melted away as Oliver’s eyes softened in understanding. “You think just because you depend on someone that you’ll go back to that?"

Felicity felt the soft understanding look that came over him, pulling at her resolve and she looked away from him.

“Felicity.” he placed his hand on her shoulder, waiting till she returned her gaze back to him before speaking. “It’s okay to depend on others. It doesn’t make you any less capable. It doesn’t diminish your strength. I don’t think anything could. You are one of the strongest people I know.”

Felicity felt his words washing over her like a balm and she placed her hand over his on her shoulder.

“I just want to make sure you’re safe.” Oliver murmured, his other hand itched to reach out and cup her cheek, but he restrained himself from doing so. And it was so fucking hard. “I need you safe.” He needed her safe the way he needed the people he cared about moat safe.

“Okay.” Felicity said after a moment, being drawn in by the intensity in his eyes the depth of concern in his voice. And if she was honest with herself it felt good to know that Oliver cared about her so much.

“Okay?” Oliver repeated. “Okay as in okay you hear me or okay as in okay you’ll call me if you ever think in danger?”

“Both,” Felicity answered moving her hand from his sliding it down his arm. “I hear what you’re saying and if I ever truly believe I’m in danger, something I can't handle on my own. You’ll be my first call.”

Relief washed over Oliver and his lips pulled up into a smile. “Thank you.”

Felicity gave a chuckle. “You’re thanking me for saying you’ll be my first call.”

Oliver grinned then. “I am. Any guy would be lucky to be you’ll first call no matter the reason.”

A blush fanned across her cheeks, and she ducked her head, biting back a smile.

Oliver couldn’t stop himself from brushing her hair back tentatively, his knuckles brushing her cheek, feeling a tug in his chest pulling him toward her.

Felicity cleared her throat, lifting her coffee cup back up. “So when we go in I’ll compile a list with Digg about potential suspects of who might have been the one to throw that brick through my window and then you can take me down to the police station to see Lance.”

Oliver nodded as he put the appropriate amount of distance between them. “Sounds like a plan.”

And he would find Gina's ex, warn him of the consequences of coming after Felicity. And if he had to break a few bones to get his point across so be it. If he thought he could treat Felicity the way he was clearly used to treating Gina. He had another thing coming.

No one went after Felicity. Not when he could do something about it and he was more than willing to make example of anyone who came after her.

And whoever it was that threw a rock into her window will soon learn that they targeted the wrong woman.

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