Title: Circuitry Removal and Replacement
Word Count: 3014

Notes: OKAY, IF YOU'VE NEVER READ ANY OF MY AUTHOR'S NOTES AT THE BEGINNING, MAKE AN EXCEPTION TODAY. Whether you should read this side story or not depends on how much you want to feel things. This is angsty, and it's going to hurt. If you'd like to bury your head in the sand for a few more chapters and pretend that this ship isn't going to be filled with conflict for a few more chapters, you need to skip this. There are going to be a few chapters coming up where you can't do that any longer, but if you'd like to live in denial for a while, PLEASE, BY ALL MEANS, SKIP THIS STORY FOR THE TIME BEING.

If you think you're up to the challenge, I thank you kindly for reading. Any reviews are welcomed and appreciated, too. ;)

Oliver awakens from the deepest sleep he's had in five years in somewhat of a fog, a common experience for him now. But instead of waking in high alert, like on the island, he gradually eases into it, trying to remember where he is and how he got there. Then the weight on his lap shifts ever so slightly and he remembers. The Dodger. Felicity. The bomb collar around her neck. The pure terror on her face, but her first thought being of his safety.

The thought of seeing her with that collar around her neck will haunt his nightmares; of that he's very certain. He nearly lost her tonight. The thought sends a chill down his spine and causes a dark rage to well up inside him. It's the kind of darkness he's been fighting back since he first arrived on the island, and it's precisely the kind of darkness that makes him want to hunt down the unsuspecting jewel thief and put several arrows in him. The Dodger would have killed her, for no other reason than because he wanted to. It's exactly the kind of thing he wanted to keep her away from, but she seems to be drawn to even the idea of trouble.

After all, she leapt at the chance to work with him.

But then he remembers the good things about the night, and it brings a slight smile to his face. She had been stunning in that gold dress, and he's going to try very hard to forget the feel of her pulled tightly against his back—and the sight of her long, bare legs flush against his. He thinks that might star in some of his dreams later on, and it will be a welcome relief from the nightmares he's been facing. In some ways, it already has been; something about Felicity makes him relax, remember that not all people are cruel and heartless. In a cold, desolate world, she makes him better—makes him want to be better.

The thought reminds him about the rest of the night; she had dismissed his past so thoroughly—so quickly—and it made him want to stop fighting the inevitable. He still doesn't know which part surprises him more: that she wanted to kiss him, or that she clearly wants more from him. He's not sure how a relationship between them will work, but what Oliver does know is that he's glad to have her, for however short a time it might be.

Because he has no doubt that when she realizes his deception, she'll walk out of his life for good.

It's a thought he's wrestled with for most of the night, but he's managed to resign himself to it after some contemplation. Because, really, it was only a matter of time before another man more worthy of her affection came along, and anything involving Felicity Smoak is an experience he'd rather not miss. From the first moment she yelled at him about using her computer, she'd brought a smile to his face for the first time in five years. Then he couldn't ignore his feelings any longer. He'd somehow ended up flirting with her, an innocent slip that he thought he'd regret later, but she'd responded well to it, and it made him want to start trying. And, somewhere along the way, he'd recognized her feelings for him, and restraint had proven harder. He had managed, but then she'd called him out on it a few nights ago, and he no longer saw the need to fight his feelings for her. It seems ridiculous, but Oliver can no longer imagine a life without Felicity as a part of it.

It's a terrifying thought, as Oliver has only known her for a matter of months and he's never felt dependent on another person in his life. He's spent the past five years of his life depending only on himself because the island has taught him the anguish of betrayal, and it takes just one fiery, determined little blonde to break down five years of defenses built to isolate him from the rest of the world. And not only did she accept Oliver Queen with open arms and a kind heart, but also the Arrow. Sure, her hesitance had been almost tangible at first, but she had learned both sides of Oliver and accepted the darkest side of him so easily. It was only tonight that he had threatened to kill the Dodger for his attempt on Felicity's life, called himself a monster, and she had still let him kiss her.

And she kissed him back.

He chuckles suddenly because Thea used to tease him about finding the girl that could tame Oliver Queen, the girl that could make him give up the partying, the womanizing, the pretentious attitude. Everyone had thought it would be Laurel, but it was only because none of them had met Felicity. A few babbles, innuendos, and charming blushes, and she'd had him. That was all it took to make him hers, so fully and completely.

And he's certain that there will be no turning back when she leaves.

His eyes open then, as he tries to block out troublesome thoughts, and he looks out the window to find the first streaks of sunlight pouring across the sky. He sighs deeply, a scowl falling across his face. He'd like nothing more than to stay, to be there when she wakes, but he doesn't have a choice. The Arrow's domain is the night, not the day, so that means he'll have to take his leave before the sunrise is prominent. Unsure of how to move Felicity but not wanting to wake her, he curves his arm under her, lifting her head and the pillow so that he can slide from underneath her. It works surprisingly well, and she doesn't wake.

He rises from the couch, carefully pulling her into his arms after standing. Her blanket falls to the ground and he's not sure what to do about it, so he leaves it. A chill runs through her—probably from close proximity to the cold leather—and she curls into him, her hand wrapping around the strap on his quiver. He can't stop a low chuckle; only Felicity would be so comfortable with him, even in sleep. She knows nothing about him, but yet she's relaxed enough in his presence to fall into such a low state of awareness

He carries her into her bedroom, then positions her up against him so that he can use one hand to pull back the comforter. He places her on the bed, pulling up the comforter and sheets over her.

He's about to leave when he hears her sleep-coated voice call out softly, "Wait."

He turns back to her immediately, unable to fight the smile from his face. More importantly, he doesn't want to fight it. "It's almost morning," he explains his leaving softly. "I'm sorry, but I have to go."

He regrets it, but he doesn't see a way around it. There's nothing he'd want more than to sleep on her couch and be there in the morning when she wakes up. Even the opposite side of her bed is calling to him, and he finds himself wanting to slide into place next to her, cradling her in his arms and doing his best to make her feel safe. He frowns, though, because he knows that's not an option for him—not now, probably not ever. But he's chosen his path and he has no choice but to live with it, despite how much he regrets his decision in hindsight.

He doesn't know what else to say, so he settles for reaching out to her. He brushes some of the loose strands of blonde hair away from her face, then lets his fingers trail a line down her jaw. Not satisfied with the interaction, he slides his hand down to her upper arm as he leans over her, and he places a kiss to her cheek.

He doesn't expect her frustrated growl, and then her hand lands on his arm. Her eyes are barely open and her vision probably fuzzy, but she reaches an arm up to the back of his neck, pulling his head down so that their lips meet. He doubts if she understands the significance of the moment in her half-asleep state, but it's the first time she's kissed him. Though he has no doubts after last night's kiss that she has feelings for him, it's something altogether different for her to initiate their contact.

He chuckles at the way she can barely keep her eyes open but yet feels the need to steal a kiss as he pulls away, and her lips turn up in a faint smile. "I understand," she answers with a sigh, and her reluctance to let him go does wonders for his male pride.

"I'll see you tonight," he answers, but he doubts if she hears; she's already starting to breathe deeply as sleep overtakes her. He stops for a moment just to watch her, part of him wondering how she can sleep so deeply after all she's seen and done for him. It's been a lifetime since Oliver's last full night of sleep, and the demons aren't just on the city's streets—they're in his head, too. He dreams about the decisions he's faced, the monsters he's killed, the monsters he's been to varying people in varying places. It's almost fascinating to watch her sleep now, since he barely remembers what it was like to be so relaxed, so blissful.

He's about to turn to the window and leave when a low cry reminds him that Saphira is still confined to the spare bedroom. Not wanting to invade Felicity's privacy but knowing that Saphira is usually out at night, he goes to the door, opening it slightly.

Saphira pokes her curious head out of the open space, and she lets out another high-pitched wail when she recognizes that Oliver is the one opening the door instead of Felicity. He shushes her and she bites off the cry mid-bark, but her tail still wags violently.

Unsure how the little dog is trained and about her commands, he decides to lift her and carry her to Felicity's room. Part of him expects to be bitten, but she seems incredibly eager to be in his arms. He fights a chuckle; apparently both of his girls are pleased with his presence tonight. Then he shakes his head to clear it because Felicity Smoak doesn't belong to anyone, least of all him.

Saphira, on the other hand, has somewhat adopted him.

He drops her onto Felicity's bed with a soft, "Stay," and she immediately worms her way between Felicity's arms as she lays on her side. He rummages through his pockets to find a carrot, and Saphira takes it with a wagging tail. He pats her once on the head before leaving, wondering when his life started being ruled by an IT girl and her dog.

The other part of him wonders why it didn't happen to him sooner.

The exact moment Oliver arrives back at their base of operations, John Diggle has no doubt that there is something different about him, something… changed and new about the vigilante. His steps are light as he bounds down the stairs, and the presence of a rare smile on his face indicates that, whatever happened, it's good for him.

And John Diggle would almost guess that Felicity had something to do with it.

Sure enough, Oliver seems almost... at peace when he removes the hood, sliding the bow into place in the allotted slot, unclipping the quiver from around his shoulders with a partial smile on his face. Really, the transformation is unbelievable; Oliver Queen looks as though the weight of the world has been removed from his shoulders, breathing like a prisoner recently set free.

Knowing the answer already, Diggle still asks the question because he feels it's a good place to start: "How is Felicity doing?" Oliver doesn't immediately look up, but his mouth does curve up in a smile. It takes him a moment before he even tries to answer the question.

When he looks up, the smile on Oliver's face is wider than any Digg has ever seen, flashing teeth. "She's fine," he assures his friend. "I made sure of that before I left." There's something loaded in his statement, something that implies that he knows more about Felicity Smoak's state of mind than he's letting on. It's a statement as crafty as it is said with amusement, so John allows the subtle air of mystery around that statement. After all, he's learned that Oliver needs his secrets, his little, carefully cultivated enigmas. Digg is starting to learn that those little mysteries that kept him alive for so long, so he doesn't fault the man a few secrets, even from the one person he shouldn't keep secrets from.

"I'm sure you did," Diggle replies carefully, watching the other man's face for any indication of the truth. It doesn't appear—not that Diggle expected it to. Oliver excels at many things, but perhaps keeping secrets is his best skill overall. Then he hesitates before adding, "But I'm not sure staying all night was a good idea." It would be better for both Oliver and Felicity if he didn't; even a blind man could see that those two are in love with each other, but no relationship deserves to begin in lies and half-truths. But until Oliver finally takes the initiative and tells her the truth, that's all it could possibly be.

Oliver's face looks a little tortured in response, and he runs a hand over his face as he looks away. "She asked me to," he says finally, so low that Digg barely hears it. It's then that he decides he's been too hard on the vigilante; he can't deny anything Felicity asks of him, no matter how small or large. The girl could probably ask him to tell her his identity, and the man wouldn't even blink before pulling back the hood. But she won't because she wants the truth to come from Oliver himself, when the time is right for him, even if Oliver doesn't think that timing could ever be right.

And Digg understands, he does. He knows that dragging anyone else into this life is a risk, one that Oliver doesn't want to take with Felicity's life. Keeping her in the dark about his identity keeps her safer, makes her a minor player in a criminal's eyes, but she's really no safer in the dark anymore. It makes her a liability to their team now—especially because anyone with two eyes can the Arrow has feelings for her. She has a target on her back, and it's only made worse by the fact that she doesn't know who all of her allies are. Sure, she knows she can count on Diggle, but she's hampered by having to depend on a nameless vigilante in a green suit.

There's a long sigh on Oliver's part, a long beat between them where nothing is said because neither one of them know what to say. "I kissed her, Digg," he admits finally, the tension that had built between his shoulders during their conversation leaving as soon as the words come out. "I shouldn't have—I had no right to—but I did." He looks at his friend for some sort of advice, some sort of response. "And she let me." Diggle finds it amusing how surprised he sounds about the last statement, as though it's the most bizarre thing he's ever said, though Diggle finds the opposite to hold true.

"Of course she let you," Digg replies dryly. "Oliver, that girl has been in love with you since I met her at the restaurant, when she brought the book to show you." Slowly, he clarifies, "She's in love with both Oliver Queen and the Arrow." He crosses his arms. "You should have told her first." It's a statement, not a criticism, and the look on Oliver's face lets Digg know that it it's taken as such.

Oliver shakes his head, and suddenly Diggle is convinced that, even after seeing so many sides of him, nothing is going to be more terrifying than a version of Oliver that had Felicity and had to give her up. "I can't, Digg," he says finally. "I should have told her earlier, but I didn't. When I tell her now, she's gone."

Digg doesn't say a word, just pats Oliver's shoulder. There's nothing he can say to make things better, nothing he can do to convince his friend that he's wrong when they both know he's right. Felicity Smoak is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of a girl, but that also means that Oliver only has one shot.

And he blew it—totally and completely missed the mark.

But there's hope, Diggle believes. To him, there's always hope because Felicity has never done what they expected her to do. She marches to the beat of her own drum, and she's taken Oliver Queen—one of the most stubborn, tortured individuals Diggle has ever met—and she made him better in the matter of a few months. If she can change someone like Oliver so much in so little time, then maybe she can accept something that most would consider unacceptable.

For Oliver's sake, Diggle prays he's right.

Part of him wants to communicate those thoughts to his friend, to offer him some sort of condolence, but it would be just as cruel as allowing the charade to go on so long without telling Felicity the truth. Because, if Diggle is wrong and she does walk away, it will make an unbearable situation infinitely worse. It could even be the thing that breaks Oliver, and Diggle will not be a part of that destruction. Finally, he decides on just three words to respond to Oliver's last statement.

"I know, man."

Playlist:

"Crazy Little Thing Called Love" - Queen
"18 Days" - Saving Abel
"Creep" - Radiohead
"Weightless" - All Time Low
"Set Fire to the Rain" - Adele
"How Does It Feel" - Avril Lavigne
"Breathe" - Ryan Star