The metal rails creaked as Felicity climbed down the ladder. When her feet touched the floor she sighed. Before she turned around, she rested her head against a railing and closed her eyes.

She remembered the night of the siege, when Mirakuru soldiers overtook the clocktower. How could ziplining down a rope frighten her less than a one story metal ladder? She'd always been afraid of heights, but with the Arrow's strong arms around her she feared nothing.

The Arrow, or Oliver? A voice asked in the back of her mind. She opened her eyes, unsure if she knew the answer... unsure if she even wanted to.

The cold, concrete prison was quiet. As she turned to stare at the giant blue door, the letters A.R.G.U.S. waited ominously at her eye level. Oliver had come down here only an hour before.

It had been extremely hard for Felicity to wait with Diggle and Roy out of sight. They'd argued many times about whether they should step in.

"We're only here incase Oliver and Thea need us," Roy insisted as Felicity tried to push by him.

"I think Malcolm Merlyn letting Slade loose counts as being needed." She argued.

Diggle stepped in front, hands gently grabbing her shoulders, "Oliver's faced Slade before. He'll be alright."

Felicity closed her eyes, exhaling loudly. Her friends hands were comforting. She'd never been a particularly touchy person. Olivers cold distance had never bothered her too much because in a way, she was very similar.

"Besides," Diggle continued, "We both know this isn't about whether you think Oliver can handle himself."

Gathering the last of her courage, Felicity opened the door. It was heavy, and creaked ominously as it fell open.

Creepy, she thought to herself.

Two cells one either side were empty, but in the center, she found Slade Wilson with his back to her. His eye patch ran right across his midnight hair. The grey streaks on either side of his head were ruffled with the elastic string. As she walked closer, he continued to throw a rubber ball against the far wall. It bounced back quickly. She noted that he threw and caught with his right hand. It was the side of his face that remained blinded.

"Good reflexes" she commented loudly.

Slades deep voice echoed, "Well, well. I didn't think it'd be you."

Felicity furrowed her brow, "Expecting company in your lovely home?"

He turned to look at her over his left shoulder. He chuckled. "I'm wondering if you'll ever stop surprising me, Felicity."

"Likewise."

Slade slung his legs around to the other side of his cot and gripped the bottom rail. His shoulders were slumped, but it didn't make him look any less intimidating. Deathstroke was never afraid to show his weaknesses. He was confident enough in his own abilities that he didn't feel the need to hide.

"To what do I owe the honor? I assume it has something to do with your boyfriends sister shooting me?"

Felicity smiled, "I was proud of her for that. It was probably pretty difficult… not killing you I mean. Shooting you wouldn't be hard."

Another amused grin crossed Slade's face. He stood, slowly walking towards the front of his cell. Lazily, he slipped his arms through the bars to lounge against it. It took all of Felicity's willpower not to take a step back. He'd never be able to reach her, but the memory of his sword pressed against her throat was enough to desire as much distance as possible.

"Still afraid of me, Ms. Smoak? Even with steel bars between us?"

Curiously, she walked to an empty cell and knocked on one of the bars. She shook her head.

"They aren't steel. They're actually made out of-" She stopped herself.

"You don't know, do you?" Her eyes locked onto his, challenging him.

"Metalology was never my strong suit, I'm afraid." He replied innocently.

She scoffed, "Well, too bad. I'm not going to help you figure out an escape plan."

This time Slade laughed out loud. It was such a human, causal, laugh that it made Felicity jump.

"Oh… you know I wasn't lying before. I really can see the appeal. Just how smart are you?"

She drew out each syllable in her words, and smiled at him, "Smart enough to know how to use a syringe."

For the first time Slades face fell, and his anger showed through. "Why are you here?"

She fought down the urge to throw her fist in the air. Ruffling Slades feathers was an exciting and deadly game. Now it was time to get down to business. Scrolling effortlessly through the tablet in her hands, Felicity stared pointedly at the screen.

"Slade Wilson, AKA Deathstroke. Former member of the Australian Secret Intelligence Service. Stranded on Lian Yu after a failed mission with partner Billy Wintergreen and presumed dead until about a year ago."

He raised an eyebrow, "Are you a biographer too?"

"No, Mr. Wilson, but I am very good at finding information when I take an interest. Would you like to know what I found?"