A/N: SURPRISE! Apparently I'm starting a new Tropes series. Who knew there was a whole sub-section of tropes just about cars?! Well, there are. So welcome to the first chapter. These will be standalone chapters much like my 'Tropes' series. 27hope is responsible for all of this. I blame her.

The mission had gone amazingly well, until they'd gotten waylaid leaving the high-rise office building. Oliver had sent Digg ahead to put the car in place only a few moments before a surprise security shift change occurred trapping Felicity and Oliver inside.

Twenty minutes later, with her calves cramping and sweat dripping down her back because she'd been forced to crouch in a tight space with Oliver in head to toe leather right behind her, Felicity was feeling the cool night air on her face as they sprinted across an empty lot.

As Oliver wrenched open the door to the parking garage she could hear him explaining their delay to Digg. "Pop the trunk!" he ordered, as she glanced around to see if she'd need to hack any security feeds later and destroy evidence.

The soles of her sensible flats slapped against the concrete, and when they came around the corner she saw Digg already standing by the back of the car.

"You've got ten minutes to get changed and get inside," he cautioned pointlessly and Oliver just growled in exasperation as he threw the bow in the trunk along with his quiver.

Felicity placed her tablet inside and grabbed two garment bags, "Let's go. We'll change in the back,"

The original plan had been to take turns changing in the back of the car, but with their delay they now didn't have that luxury. Oliver was supposed to be giving the keynote address at a dinner that should secure him the money needed to finally buy out Isabel Rochev. They couldn't be late.

"Felicity-"

"Oliver! There's no time for modesty here. Really? You? Mister walks around without a shirt on half the time has a problem with changing in front of me?" she said in a hissed whisper as she shoved a garment bag in his arms and made her way around the other side of the car, "I'll promise not to look!" she shot over the roof and then climbed in, already kicking off her shoes.

A second later Oliver joined her, "Let's go, Digg,"

However, all her bravado began to fail her the moment she looked to her left to see Oliver quickly untying his boots, because she knew the leather pants would be next.

Swallowing heavily she took a deep breath and began to unbutton her blouse, trying to keep herself upright as Digg took the turns of the garage a little quicker than she would have liked.

"You gave me the wrong bag."

"What?"

"Blue sequins...not mine." he said and she finished slipping one arm out of her sleeve before she reached forward and grabbed the bag she had. When she looked over to hand it to him he was resolutely looking at the ceiling, which made her face flush pink.

"Here! Take it!" she ordered, louder than she had intended as they traded bags,

With her back mostly to him again she tried to concentrate on what she needed to do. She tugged the blouse off her other arm and shoved it behind her while she deftly undid the zipper at her waist and lifted her hips to pull her skirt down. Unfortunately she did it just as Digg hung another curve and she was thrown back into Oliver.

Her naked back hit his naked front and they both sucked air in through their teeth as his hand settled around her waist trying to keep her from falling to the floor.

"Digg!" they shouted in unison as she tried to pull herself up and away from Oliver even though her skin felt on fire wherever he'd touched her.

Now vowing to never look at him ever again she tried to calm her pounding heart as she slid her skirt off her legs and reached for the garment bag.

The dress was long, blue organza overlaying a brocade satin with virtually no back, just one thin strap that connected one shoulder to the other, the front dipping in a V that showed just enough, along with a slit that opened and flowed when she walked. It was going to be a bitch to get on in the backseat of the Bentley.

With a resigned sigh she found the bottom hem and lifted it over her head, feeling Oliver shift and move around beside her, the tail of his dress shirt just skimming her side as he angled to put it on.

Her elbow caught his shoulder and she called out a muffled 'sorry' as she tried to wriggle her hands and head through the correct spaces. For a second she felt trapped as the unforgiving fabric refused to budge. Her left arm was trapped tight against her ear and the other was twisted in front of her face as she tried to shift the dress without ripping a seam.

Then suddenly everything was pulled down in one swift movement and her head popped out of the top, one arm free. Her head swiveled left to see Oliver working on the buttons of his shirt. "Thanks," she said, almost breathlessly as she got the other arm through.

She knew her face was flushed. Partly from the combination of the effort she'd previously exerted and was still exerting, and partly because of Oliver.

"Digg, any chance we could get some air back here?" she called as she reached behind her and undid her bra. The dress wouldn't allow her to wear one.

"Getting a little hot back there?" he asked, grin in his tone.

With a growl she pulled the final strap free and tossed the garment at his head.

"Hey!" he shouted, holding it up with one finger from where it had landed draped over his shoulder, "No throwing projectile lingerie at the driver,"

Oliver's head shot up at that from where he'd been pulling on dress socks, and she couldn't help the smirk she gave him.

The strap that connected one shoulder to the other on her dress was proving to be too difficult to do by herself and after wasting thirty seconds she didn't have she turned with a huff and present her back to Oliver, "A little help please,"

Shivers shot down her spine as she felt his fingers brush against her skin as he caught the strap on one side and pulled it across to the other. "There's a tiny hook, under the left strap...it's one of those really small things that you can never find when you're doing it by touch. You've got big hands, it must be impossible to hold onto that thing, it's always slipping out of my grasp and-" her words choked off as his fingers wrapped around her shoulder to keep her still,

"Got it," he said, voice lower than she expected it to be and she swore it felt like his hand dragged over her skin as it fell away,

"Than...thanks," she gulped out,

She fished her heels out of the bottom of the bag along with a small make up case. The ponytail she was currently wearing wasn't going to cut it at the dinner so she pulled the holder from her hair and turned to see Oliver looking unfairly gorgeous.

He had managed to get his shirt tucked in and his suspenders up, but his bow tie still lay loose around his neck and he was struggling with his cufflinks.

"Need a hand?" she asked and his eyes flashed up.

She realized with a start they looked like they were at the end of the night instead of at the beginning. A passing car cast headlights inside and her stomach flipped when she saw the way his eyes had darkened.

"You, uh...you keep working on the cufflinks, I'll do the bow tie," she stated and leaned in. She'd tied his ties before, more than once, but they'd always been standing and there had never been this much charge in the air between them before.

As she concentrated on her task she pulled herself closer towards him, hitching up the material of her skirt so she could plant one knee on the seat next to his thigh. A strange garbled noise came from his throat and she paused before she dismissed it, assuming it was just Oliver getting frustrated at his cufflinks.

Trying to work quickly she rested her left forearm against his chest to brace as she quickly made a respectable bow. His arms stretched around her as he craned his head over her back in an attempt to see what he was doing.

When she was finished she realized his hands were resting at her waist to steady her and her face was only a few inches from his. She could feel his breath as he exhaled and couldn't help it when she nervously licked her lips. His eyes darted down and then back up and a warmth filled her belly.

"Three minutes!" Digg called out from the front and she jerked backwards, almost knocking her head on the ceiling as she scrambled to get back on her side of the seat.

"Oh my god, I still have to do my hair!" she exclaimed, almost upending the makeup bag next to her. "Here, take these," she said to Oliver, dumping a handful of bobby pins into his hastily offered hands as she tugged a brush through her hair and began to gather it into what she hoped was a stylish but slightly messy updo.

She poked pins in at random, taking from the pile in Oliver's hands until she felt it was secure. Felicity gave a little shake of her head, hands held out like she was afraid it was going to fall apart. "Look okay?"

He gave her a small nod and she dug through the bag again, looking for her lipstick. There wasn't enough time to put a full face on, so she'd have to settle for a bright lip and hope no one noticed.

"Digg, I swear to god if you don't drive the next twenty seconds as smooth as possible you'll be getting nothing but spam sent to your email for the next month." she warned as she twisted the tube to expose a rich dark pink.

Digg came through and she successfully applied the color with no mishap.

"Hang on," Oliver said suddenly and she froze as she felt him carefully push a pin into her hair. "There was one part sticking out…"

"Thanks," she said almost hoarsely, the idea that Oliver had just stuck a bobby pin into her hair was almost more than she could handle.

She cleared her throat and shoved the loose items back into the makeup bag, "Okay...shoes," she spoke to herself as she slid on the four inch black peep toes, "Hair is done, face is done...clutch! Where's my clutch?" she said frantic as she looked all around,

"Here," Oliver said calmly, reaching around her to place the beaded bag in her lap,

"My hero," she slipped her lipstick inside and turned to give him a once over, reaching up to fix his collar where it lay a bit crooked. His hand caught her wrist and her chest hitched as he slowly dragged his thumb over her pulse point,

"You'll save me a dance later?" it was more statement than question and said so low she knew Digg couldn't hear him,

Her heart fluttered, and she found she couldn't look away, "Of course," she murmured and then the car was coming to a stop and he dropped her arm.

"We're here. You two ready?" Digg called out before he opened his door,

Nine minutes and forty two seconds after they'd pulled out of the parking garage Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak exited the chauffeured luxury car looking as if they'd had all evening to get ready.

Oliver held his hand out for her which she took gratefully, discretely tugging at her skirt so that it would lay correctly when she stood. As soon as she was outside the car she adjusted his tie and smoothed his lapel, accepting the small squeeze of his hand as a gesture of thanks.

The keynote address went off without a hitch, and by the end of the night Oliver had shook enough hands to know they'd raised the capital needed to buy back Isabel's shares at a price she couldn't afford to refuse.

Felicity stayed on the sidelines most of the night, happy to do what she could to facilitate a win for the company and for Oliver. He'd search her out as he worked the room, and she'd always know when he was looking for her because her skin would tingle. As the event was winding down he found her in a corner drinking champagne. She raised the flute as he approached and gave him a wide smile, "Congratulations, Mr. Queen,"

He let out a long sigh and let his shoulders droop, the action making her heart flip just a little because she knew he'd never let anyone else see him like that. "I couldn't have done it without you," he said as he stole the glass from her and finished the drink in one swallow. Before she could sputter a protest he'd taken her hand in his and gave her a tug, "I believe you promised me a dance,"

"Oliver...you don't have to," she said quietly,

"I want to," he whispered into her ear and she knew he felt the shudder that went through her at his words,

They danced five songs straight, closing out the orchestra, but she didn't notice and he didn't either. One of his hands seemed determined to discover in great detail every bit of bare skin her dress exposed.

His palm was hot against her, causing tendrils of warmth to spread outwards, flowing over the surface of her skin and ending at her center. His other hand had begun to draw tiny, swirling designs along her neck and jaw, occasionally dipping down to the hollow of her throat or along her collarbone. All she could do was hold tightly to his arms and let her head rest against his shoulder as the sensations threatened to overwhelm her.

She didn't question his actions. Everything had collapsed down to nothing but feel. She could feel their bond, their connection, their strength, and what was happening between them just felt like the natural progression of what they had started to cultivate all those months ago.

When he told Digg to drop them both off at her place there was a tense twenty second standoff where the two men locked eyes and had a silent conversation before Digg slid his gaze to her and she nodded once.

Oliver's hand found her back again as they rode the elevator up to her floor in silence and by the time they reached her door she was practically vibrating with the need to kiss him.

Her hands shook as she got the key in the lock and as soon as they were inside she had him pushed against the wall.

It didn't take anywhere near nine minutes for them to get undressed.