Technical Assistance

Chapter 16: Data Decryption and Analysis

"Yeah," she assures him with a tired smile.  "And you?"  She means to say more, but the cold air cuts through the area like a knife, and, between her sleeveless pink dress and her jacket that's probably ashes in the wreckage, she shivers.  Of course Oliver notices, and suddenly the gray suit coat is draped over her shoulders.  It's a little warmer, so she gathers it around her better.  "Thank you," she mutters, realizing what a scene the two of them must make.  But she's really just too tired to care what anyone thinks about them together.

"No problem.  And it was nothing I couldn't handle," he assures her with a lopsided smile that makes her breath hitch for a moment.  Oliver's smiles are so rare and unexpected that sometimes she can't help but get lost in them.  She shakes her head to clear it, but groans when her vision keeps swimming after she stops.  A wave of nausea runs through her, and she bites down on her lip to keep from covering Oliver's shoes in that nice red wine from earlier.  Concern covers his smile instantly, and he places an arm on her shoulder to steady her.

In a moment of complete fatigue and reckless abandon, she sighs before leaning over, her head falling on Oliver's shoulder.  He seems a little surprised at first, but then his arm reaches around behind her, his hand falling on her forearm gently, even though the bandaged one is against his side.  With a final mental, What the hell, she kicks off her flats and folds her legs under her, causing her to lean into Oliver more.  They sit there together like that for a long, quiet moment, but then she breaks the silence by saying, "Sorry, my head decided to spin without my permission.  Apparently I'm at a risk for a concussion."  She chuckles softly.  "I guess the Vigilante was a nice guy for getting me out of there, but the exploding-arrow-trick kind of messed up my head."  She rubs her ears again, but then is reminded that the ringing is from the explosion.  She bites her lip.  "Sorry, I know you don't like to talk about him."

"I'm slowly changing my mind," he says quietly.  There's a long moment of hesitation before he says slowly, "He can't be that bad if he was smart enough to save you."  The admission causes Felicity's eyes to flick upward of their own accord, but she finds his expression guarded and unreadable.  She finds him so self-conscious that she doesn't even try to ask him about that, but he changes the subject before she can speak, anyway.  "Thea wasn't injured," he says casually, "and I think you had something to do with that.  Thank you."

She's about to roll her eyes, but then she remembers that head movements don't exactly agree with her right now, and she doesn't want to risk it.  "I didn't do anything special," she says dryly.  "I just pushed her and Merlyn through a door.  But I'm glad to hear she's in better shape than the two of us."  She laughs.  "We're a fine pair—like Clark Kent and Diana Prince after a particularly horrible night."  When his eyebrows knit together in confusion, she sighs, frustrated.  "Seriously, you need to pick up a comic book every now and again.  Do Superman and Wonder Woman ring any bells?  I'm talking about their alter-egos.  Not that I'm exactly Wonder Woman material, but, well, you get the point."

"I'm not exactly Superman, either," he replies easily, "so I think that metaphor was flawed from the start."  It strikes her for a moment that he's actually teasing her again, and she can't stop the goofy smile from spreading across her face.

"Well, Mr. Ivy-League-Dropout," she retorts, "it would technically be a simile.  But you're right, it wasn't exactly one of my finer moments.  But, hey, cut a girl some slack—my ears are ringing so bad that feel like I need to yell over a sound that isn't there."  She feels more than hears him chuckle in response, and her eyes fall shut for a long moment, trying to fight off the headache that's threatening to attack.  Finally she says quietly, "Detective Lance told me about Mr. Steele.  That's gotta be hard on your family."

Oliver sighs as though the weight of the world has settled on his shoulders.  "He and Thea are close," he says finally, "but I don't think she's had time to process what the cops have told us."  He hesitates before adding, "I don't really even know Walter."  He lets out a humorless chuckle.  "You'd think with five years on an island would give me time to think about the possibility of my mother remarrying, but it was an unexpected surprise to find that my father's right-hand man shares a bed with my mother."