AN: This story was inspired by a Tumblr prompt I titled To Catch a Thief which took on a life of its own. This chapter begins after the events of that prompt, but the story will circle back around. If you are interested the original prompt can be found at s/10795929/24/Happiness-is-a-Journey

The prologue title is derived from the Old French word desnouer, "to untie", from nodus, Latin for "knot." Based on my research this an alternate title to one of the six stages of a con.

Rating: M

Thank you to everyone who inspired me to make this a multi-chapter fic. I really hope you all enjoy it. I'd love to hear what you think!

Prologue: Dénouement

Felicity took a breath to steady her hands before taking a step closer to the blue and green, ornate Faberge' egg. The same egg that was worth thirty million dollars, and with the added cost of getting in the middle of a mob war, apparently.

They were stupid for having agreed to this job and stupid for having trusted China White.

Felicity knew this and was aware of the fact that they were most likely going to be double crossed somehow. Yet they still accepted the job. Although, thanks to her genius, they were able to double cross their double-crossers.

Was that triple-crossing, Felicity wondered to herself, tilting her head as she did.

Felicity glanced at her watch, hoping that Sara was faring well on her side of the mission. Both women had important jobs requiring radio silence so as not to set off the sensors the Solntsevskaya Bratva employed. They had only had three weeks to plan this job, but were hoping there short prep time was enough to limit any surprises.

Surprises were something that could land both of them six feet under on this job.

With another deep breath to steady herself, Felicity reached forward to claim her prize.

"I wouldn't take another step if I were you," came a rough, gravel toned voice from the shadows to her left.

Funny, she thought she checked those.

Not wanting to take a chance, she did as instructed, and paused midway.

"You know, if I make the slightest move in the wrong direction," she stated while chancing half a glance in the stranger's direction behind her. "I could set off a dozen different alarms that would spell trouble for both of us,"

"You wouldn't do that, Felicity Smoak." He spoke her name with venom, as if it had somehow poisoned him.

Which was odd because her life of crime hadn't made her any direct enemies – at least none that she knew of.

But maybe she was wrong, maybe she had her very own nemesis. Sara had the Huntress - Helena Bertenelli - who she had known from her New York days. They dated the same guy once upon a time, or so Sara said.

"I'm sorry, but have we met?" Felicity asked, startled as she turned to see a man holding a bow and arrow aimed at her chest.

Yep, she definitely didn't remember making enemies with Robin Hood.

"Don't tell me you don't remember me," he purred. His voice may have sounded familiar it if wasn't so distorted. Voice modulator, she assumed. "After all, we did have a memorable evening, Meghan."

Felicity winced at the sound of her alias, or that specific alias.

Using her middle name was a new one she had been trying out. She often used an alias like Sally Ryan or Emily Richards, but nothing with personal significance. For some reason the night she met Oliver, she used her middle name, and she had only used that name a handful of times.

It was also the first time she broke her own rule and had an intimate conversation with a mark. With Oliver Queen.

Who, she now realized, moonlighted as a vigilante in green leather. Which, in retrospect, should have been more jarring than it was.

"The first actual, honest conversation I have with a man in years and he turns out to be … well you," Felicity said with a wave of her hand in his direction. "You can put the bow and arrow down, I'm not armed."

"I'll be the judge of that," he asserted as he took a step in her direction.

"What? Are you going to frisk me?" She said, holding back a laugh at her own sass.

Oliver tipped his head to the side, giving her a view of his face under the green hood. He was giving her an 'are you seriously sassing the man with the bow and arrow?' look, the kind that Sara would often send her way.

His eyes, though, were filled with pain and betrayal.

"You're going to put your hands up, in the air, and we are going to walk out of here." Oliver told her without lowering his bow.

Felicity did feel bad for lying to him. She had enjoyed their time together at the museum, and even found herself wondering what could have been between them. But she was a thief, after all, and did steal 1.2 million dollars from him that night.

Would he have come to her for tech support, she wondered. She had been eyeing up that IT position at Queen Consolidated after graduation. They could have met in the break room over coffee, her rambling about how gorgeous he was, and him returning her affections with a smile. It would have been nice, simple even.

Her life, however, had turned out different from what she had expected it would be.

She assumed that the same went for him. She didn't expect for anyone to wake up one morning with the sudden urge, and skill, to put on green leather and patrol the streets of Starling City.

She'd heard the story about Oliver Queen, and the rumors about the man known as the Arrow. She just didn't think they were one in the same.

"Listen," Felicity turned to face him head on, keeping both hands up. "I get that you want to take me in to the police, preferably back in America, because I've heard some awful things about Russian prisons, like really bad, very unsanitary." She paused when Oliver cleared his throat, a signal that he wanted her to get to the point.

"Anyway, I get you want to do the right thing. But I am doing the right thing too," she said as she glanced back over her shoulder. "That egg is important, and if I don't get it, someone close to me will die."

"You say that like there is a chance of me ever believing a word you say." She could feel the anger vibrating from his voice all the way to where she stood.

"I get it, I do," Felicity pleaded. "You must have such a low impression of me, and my chosen profession."

For some reason, she did feel bad that he thought so low of her. In normal circumstances the idea of someone disapproving of her career wouldn't bother her, but this time it did. It was as if his … support was something she needed.

"You steal from people," he spat in her direction.

"Only from those who can afford it," she countered, trying to meet his eyes.

"Stealing is stealing," he told her in truth, unwavering in his stance.

She could have taken the cheap shot that was available to her. She knew the rumors, and the stories. She knew what the Hood had done in Starling, the lives he took.

Now that she knew that Oliver was said vigilante, she knew that he was capable of much worse than stealing a decorative egg.

But there was a part of her, a part that she had been trying to shove down since the Queen job, that never wanted to hurt him. She never wanted to use his past against him.

So instead, she shrugged and attempted to sound nonchalant. "Fair point, but this time, there is more at stake than a couple million dollars in my bank account."

Felicity saw in his eyes that he didn't believe her. "You're lying," his voice was deep, and hard.

And irritating.

Here she was, not using his past against him, and he wasn't even budging an inch.

"Are you really this stubborn?" She challenged, lowering her arms to cross in front of her chest. "I have never lied to you. I omitted the truth." Felicity pointed her finger in his direction for good measure as she saw his bow lower. His notched arrow now pointed at the floor instead of her chest. "But I never told you a single lie."

As Oliver's forehead furrowed in contemplation she saw her opening, and she took it. "God, be a stubborn ass, I don't care."

Felicity felt a surge of triumph as her fingers found the jewel encrusted egg. She sometimes boasted to Sara of her lightning fast reflexes and agile fingers. It was part of what made her a good thief.

"Wait!" Oliver yelled just as Felicity heard a slight 'chirp' noise. "Don't move!"

Her eyes darted to both ends of the room but she didn't dare move an inch. "What was that?" She asked as she held her frame stock still. "Oh god it was a sensor, how bad is it?"

Oliver moved at a slow pace with care to place the arrow back in its quiver and bow in his less dominant hand. She doubted whether he had a dominant hand or not.

A man like Oliver Queen was most likely skilled at using both hands, she thought. Felicity cringed at the mental image that thought summoned. It was probably not the best time to start thinking of his hands.

He bent his knees, crouching low, to look at the source of the noise. He was careful to move the fabric cloth covering the pedestal so as not to cause any sudden movements. She thought the cloth covered pedestal was there for decoration. In her haste she hadn't expected there to be a device that could kill her.

"It's a bomb," he told her in a voice no louder than a whisper.

Felicity rolled her eyes at his response. "Well I was hoping it wasn't a trampoline." Ok, maybe the sarcasm could wait until after he disabled it. "What kind of bomb? C4? Is there a timer? What if it has a remote detonator?"

"Felicity!" His sharp voice broke her from her fast approaching ramble.

It also caused her to feel her own ire build up within her. If he hadn't been so stubborn she wouldn't have rushed to grab her prize. This was his fault.

"What?" She snapped back.

"I need you to be quiet so I can focus." She opened her mouth to lay out a witty retort when she caught his eyes. His crystal blue eyes that looked, in that moment, helpless. "It looks like its pressure sensitive, so don't move." His voice was firm, but she sensed a note of pleading – or maybe it was her imagination. "I'm going to radio my partner, who is ex-special forces-"

Now it was her turn to interrupt him with a snapped tone. "No don't!"

"Why?" He asked as he pulled his hand away from the Bluetooth speaker in his ear.

"The frequency that you'll use will set off a silent alarm and send Bratva agents swarming us. And while I'm assuming you're familiar with the Bratva, I doubt that you want your secret identity exposed." She rushed out, afraid he would attempt to contact his partner.

It was the whole reason why she and Sara hadn't stayed in contact that night. Usually they did, unless some extreme circumstance prevented it. If the Bratva even had the slightest inclination that someone was paralleling their frequency it would be lights out for them.

"How do you…?" Oliver's gaze searched her for a bluff.

He probably didn't expect her to figure out that he had connections to the Bratva. She did just find out that he was the Arrow.

"You seemed to know enough about this place to know that there was a secret entrance in the book shelf, which I'm assuming is how you entered, because the window is locked and alarmed, and the door is in front of me. The entrance wasn't on any blueprint that we looked at, and believe me, we looked through them all, so that leaves you being a member of the Bratva, and considering your nightly occupation, I'm not sure why that would be surprising." She rambled, trying not to let her hand slip as she spoke. "I'm a recorded genius, powers of deduction come with the brain."

To his credit he didn't seem put off by her rapid fire information. "Ok, well," he said with a smirk. "Genius, I'm only seeing one way out of here, and you may not like it."

Felicity felt her stomach begin to twist at the thought of him leaving her behind. Of course he wasn't the one with his hand on a bomb. It would be easy for him to leave, do svidaniya as the Russians would say.

She was about to protest when he stood and begin to pull an arrow from his quiver. He seemed to be surveying the window across from them.

"As long as it doesn't get me blown up into a million little pieces or tortured by the Russian mob, I'm open to suggestions." She told him, her tone half begging him not to leave her.

"Hold out your arm," he told her without looking at her, eyes fixed on the window behind her. "And you're going to want to hold onto me tight."

"Hold out my…?" She asked as her hair began to stand on end, but held out her arm anyway. "Why am I holding out my…"

She wasn't able to finish her sentence as Oliver Queen charged towards her. Felicity let out a scream as Oliver pushed them forward and through the window while Felicity held herself flush against his chest.

She watched the ground surge forward, as she held tight to Oliver's firm body, before moving further away in a pendulum like swing. Gunfire, alarms, and explosions blazed around them as they sliced through the air and away from the building.

In the rush she didn't have a chance to realize that she held firm to that damn egg.