The Perils of Genius
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing.
Summary: Sometimes being so smart is more trouble than it's worth. Missing scene for 2x23.
"Do You Understand?"
Felicity's brain stuttered and then restarted, changing gears as Oliver's plan became suddenly clear. Her grip tightened around the dart and she replayed Oliver's question over and over in her mind, working through everything he was telling her in as few words as possible.
"Do you understand?"
Stay here.
Slade is going to come for you.
He's going to take you and I'm going to let him.
Frustrating though it might be, Felicity had long since learned the necessity of working through everything Oliver couldn't or wouldn't say. As often happened, she had to make those intuitive leaps in mere seconds. Worse, he'd come to expect it of her. He knew he didn't have to spell everything out for her. She was his brilliant IT girl, his genius partner, his smart-as-a-whip Girl Friday.
"Do you understand?"
Felicity, you're the plan. I trust you. You're my partner.
You're our hope, our last hope.
Can you do this? Can you do this for me? For us?
"Yes."
Oliver gave her hand one last gentle squeeze of reassurance.
I'll come for you.
A second later he was gone, leaving her hollow, terrified, and about twenty other feelings all jumbled into one, none of which she could really show because she was still on camera.
Felicity felt the chill of the empty house settle around her. She moved to the staircase and sat down on the second step, her small movements seemingly loud in the cavernous foyer. She carefully slid the dart in her pocket, pretending she was simply tucking her hands away because of the cold. Slade might still be watching and she couldn't let him see or this would all be for nothing.
Felicity didn't have long to wait and it was a good thing. She was so nervous she was practically jumping out of her skin. She heard them coming, clomping up the front steps. Mirakuru didn't make for a light-footed soldier. Knowing they were coming didn't stop her from jumping like a startled rabbit when the door slammed open and two of Slade's masked men appeared.
Felicity turned and ran up the staircase. She had to put on a show of trying to get away. She struggled when they caught her, but not as much as she could have. She was carrying precious cargo after all. She couldn't afford to break it, or to be searched and have it taken. Thankfully, Mirakuru didn't improve smarts along with strength. The two men didn't even consider searching her she was such a non-threat to them.
They hauled her outside through the front door, their punishing grip adding more bruises to her already battered body. The car waiting for them looked like it had seen better days. They shoved her in the back seat and Felicity was immediately surrounded by the heavy, coppery scent of blood. She tried not to think about what had happened to the car's former owner to leave that much blood on the upholstery.
The ride was silent except for the noise of the two mouth-breathers. Felicity kept her impending panic attack at bay by mentally coming up with as many names as she could for her guards. Goons, lackeys, minions, thugs, cronies, underlings… There was a surprising lack of titles for drug-induced rage monsters who for some reason chose to answer to their evil overlord. She would have to look into it properly if she managed to make it through the night alive.
Unfortunately, that possibility seemed to be growing smaller and smaller as the two goons (she was sticking with that title - short, sweet, insulting) jerked her out of the car and began dragging her inside yet another industrial looking mess of a building. If there was one thing Starling City had in abundance, it was vacant, dilapidated factories. Sometimes when she was trying to guide Oliver through the town, she nearly got cross-eyed looking at all the vacant apartments, warehouses and factories.
Felicity tried mentally cataloging the corridors and rooms she passed. If she had to make a run for it, she would need it. First, though, she had to march straight into the jaws of death. Oliver had asked her to.
Do you understand?
As she was shoved forward yet again, Felicity was torn between sheer terror and being almost… flattered. Oliver, who hated to have her in the field, had trusted her with this. He'd literally put their fate, the fate of the entire city, in her hands. That tiny flare of flattery was drowned out almost immediately as soon as she turned a corner and saw Slade standing at the other end of the corridor.
"Felicity Smoak." His low drawl sent shivers down her spine. The way he said her name was devoid of any warmth, any… humanity. There was nothing left but vengeance and rage. Even at Oliver's worst, his angriest, his most merciless, he'd never spoken her name that way. At his best, his kindest, her name on his lips caused shivers of a different sort.
Slade moved until he was right in front of her. Felicity tried to step back, but was blocked by a human wall of goon. The goon put his hands on her shoulders to keep her from trying to get away.
Slade leaned down, studying her as if she were a new sort of interesting bug. "Looks like the kid had a surprise left in him after all," he growled. Of course, nearly everything he said came out like a growl. The guy sounded like he'd been a two pack a day smoker since he was a toddler.
Felicity suddenly had a mental image of him as a six year old, a Hot Wheels car in each hand crashing them together over and over, a cigarette dangling from his lips. The picture was so ridiculous, a hysterical giggle bubbled to the surface before she could stop it.
Slade scowled. "Something amusing, Miss Smoak?"
"No," she answered quickly. "No, no, no. So not amusing. Just me and a socially inappropriate response to yet another near death experience."
Slade got within an inch of her face, his breath on her cheek, so close she could tell he'd long since given up brushing his teeth. She supposed packing a toothbrush wasn't a top priority for psychotic killers.
"What makes you think this is a near death experience?" he demanded. "You think he'll save you?"
Felicity gulped audibly and had to fight not to make a desperate grab for the dart in her pocket. Slade was too close. His reflexes were too fast. He'd stop her before she could inject him.
Do you understand?
She had to wait for Oliver. He would come for her. Only Oliver could make Slade angry enough, distract him enough, for her to have a chance of giving him the cure. She had to wait and pray that Slade didn't go nuts and kill her in the meantime.
For just a second she had a terrible thought that maybe he'd already killed Laurel. Oliver's plan had set Felicity up as his beloved. That meant Laurel was supposedly extraneous now. Felicity couldn't see Laurel anywhere, and Slade might have decided she wasn't worth the trouble to keep around.
"Oliver will come for both of us," Felicity said as confidently as she could manage, hoping she could get Slade to tell her whether there were still two people left to be saved.
Slade merely snarled. "I'm counting on it."
"He tries to save people," she snapped, her anger suddenly overcoming her fear, "not stab bound, unarmed women."
Slade let out a roar that had Felicity cowering back. "He didn't save Shado, and he won't save you!"
Felicity had the abrupt thought that this was part of why Shado had chosen Oliver instead of Slade. Felicity didn't know much about what had happened between the three on the island, but she'd managed to piece bits of it together. She had a feeling that even before the Mirakuru Slade hadn't been the man for Shado. She'd already recognized how damaged he was, how unstable.
With help, Oliver had been able to come back from the brink once he'd left the island. He could have remained the merciless killer he'd been when he'd returned to Starling, but with help from her and from Digg, Tommy too, he'd found a better way. Felicity had a sinking suspicion Slade had been teetering on the brink of madness when Oliver had arrived. Losing Shado to Oliver, then to death had driven him beyond all help. Add the Mirakuru on top of that and it was a short train ride to Crazytown.
"I believe in Oliver," Felicity said firmly. Slade's hand was twitching like he wanted to reach for the sword at his back. And who uses a sword? Honestly? But if Slade was going to kill her, she wasn't going down cowering. She might be a breath away from a full blown panic attack, but as long as she could keep it together, she was going to stand for what she believed in, for the man, the hero, she believed in.
Slade sniffed in derision. "Well, you wouldn't be the first woman to make that mistake."
To her relief, Slade finally backed up and Felicity could breathe again. He pulled out a cell phone and she listened to the call. He was bringing Oliver to them. She just had to wait.
Felicity repeated it over and over. She had to wait for Oliver. He was counting on her.
Do you understand?
She had one shot. One.
Slade pulled his sword from the scabbard and stalked toward her. This was it. Now or never.
Felicity knew the moment Oliver arrived, even though she couldn't see him, because Slade started in on the same lame, nonsensical monologue he'd been spouting since the beginning. They said you could measure how insane a person was by the level of chaos their behavior created around them. Starling was burning, so… pretty crazy.
Felicity tuned the crazy out, although it was hard to ignore the sword at her throat, and focused everything she had on Oliver. He was standing in front of her now. He would find a way to let her know when the time was right. At some point another goon brought Laurel, so… not dead, yay. Then Slade pushed Felicity to her knees, threatening her with the blade. Still, she kept her eyes on Oliver.
"Now I know how it feels," he said, "to see my enemy so distracted, he doesn't see the real danger is right in front of him."
That was her cue. Felicity pulled the dart from her pocket as she rose. She didn't hesitate. While Slade had his eyes - eye - on Oliver, she plunged the cure into his neck.
After that it was all running and waiting and hoping; Running from the last of the goons, waiting to know that Oliver was safe, hoping that he'd managed to save the city and yet keep from killing Slade to do it.
She wasn't just Oliver's partner. In many ways, she was his conscience. Too many people had spent the last few days telling him to break his vow to Tommy, to kill Slade. But Felicity knew that to do it, it would kill something inside of Oliver, something precious in him that she tried every single day to protect. Oliver had been a killer when she met him, a killer with a heroic mission, but a killer nonetheless. She'd joined the team to save Walter. She'd stayed, however, for Oliver. This was a fight for his soul and she was every bit as vigilant to guard it as Oliver was to guard the city.
She knew they needed to talk about what he'd said at the mansion, but it could wait. It wouldn't hurt for her to have a little more time to work out her feelings about the situation. This was Oliver and he gave new meaning to the word subtext. If he could leave something unsaid, then that's the way it would be.
Felicity, however, was a smart woman. She knew what he'd said, what he hadn't said, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of what was underneath all of that. It would take time.
She understood, after all.
Thanks for reading!