Her first mistake is picking up the phone.
Felicity has a stack of documents gathered in her arms when the phone rings. His voice hasn't changed in the four years she hasn't seen him, the same gravel crunch growl. It leaves her ear buzzing, and it is a despicable taste of humiliation and fear when her knees give.
….
Oliver wraps up his meeting with the board and returns to his office. He's checking his computer and looks up just in time to see a shower of paper fall around a slump of blonde hair and deep purple.
It takes him a total of five long strides to reach her.
She almost notices how his hands are on her face, but her gaze is on the butterfly cracks stretched across her phone.
He follows her stare to it and asks, "Who called?"
She doesn't answer, but when he makes a grab for it, she is a flurry of limbs and snatches it from his finger. Her mouth provides the one excuse he won't question. "My mother."
It works. She's not sure she wanted it to.
….
Diggle finds himself in a situation he's not all too comfortable with. Oliver has a pair of binoculars glued to his eyes when he motions to the right.
He sighs and tries "And why exactly are we following Felicity?"
"We're just making sure she gets home safe since she wouldn't let me drive her home." He sounds resentful.
Diggle frowns. Oliver notices and asks "What's wrong?"
"This isn't the way to Felicity's house."
"What!"
They follow her deeper into the Glades. She finally pulls into an empty lot. The street is deserted. They can see her fumbling with something to her right. Diggle shares a questioning look with Oliver.
….
She idles at the wheel beford pulling her hair loose. It falls in a tumble of curls over her shoulders. Slowly, she steps out the car.
Oliver nudges Diggle, motioning at the man who had suddenly appeared in front of Felicity.
"Hello, Meghan."
...
The fear has subsided by now, and she wears forlorn weariness.
"What do you want?"
He moves closer. "Really now, is that all I get? No kiss hello?"
Her eyes are narrow and warning.
Hands up and out of his pockets, "Okay, okay. I need you rhelp with a comission. It requires the skill of someone tech savy, and who else but smokingSmoak?"
"No."
He kicks at a crushed can and looks her straight in the eye, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.
"Meghan, whatever did I do to make you think you actually have a choice? Tell me, and I'll do my best to mend it. Oh, and if I remember correctly, didn't Mr. Edward Rockwell leave behind a bouncing baby brat? What was his name?" He juts his face into hers. "Oh yeah, Ronnie."
She gets angry at that and lunges. He dances out her reach, mocking and sneering.
Until she whips out a gun.
Pause. Rewind. Start.
It's a roar of laughter now. "Meghan, as if you could shoot that. It's been a long time, but not that long."
Wiping away a tear, he moves a second too late at the click that goes off. The bullet tears through his left shoulder. She stumbles a step back, unaccustomed to the backlash.
"You shot me!"
"Obviously," she breathes.
Clutching at his wound he asks, "You're not afraid? I thought you were afraid. "
"I just shot you."
"Yes. Ha, yes you did."
She motions for him to get closer. " C'mon, let's get you patched up. I've got a first aid kit."
...
It takes all of Diggle's strenght to hold back Oliver.
...