"I heard, she slept with Mr. Steele, and threatened to tell everyone if she didn't get the job."

"I heard it was Mr. Queen, and she's… you know…"

"Pregnant? No way."

"He used to visit her when she worked in the IT department."

"And have you seen her skirts? Could they be any shorted? Completely unprofessional."

Oliver froze, listening to the whispers that were coming from a group of women gathered around the coffeemaker in the break room. It didn't take a genius to figure out who they were gossiping about.

Felicity.

Felicity and her mysterious promotion from a nondescript IT girl to working in the top offices as the CEO's EA.

He had first heard of the whispers from Isabel, when they had been in Russia over a month ago. She had suggested that he and Felicity were more than just friends or co-workers and he had had ulterior motives behind giving her the job. He had immediately shut Isabel down, telling her that there was no truth behind the office gossip. He had thought, obviously foolishly, that that would be the end of it.

Clearly he had been wrong.

He thought back, to only minutes before when he had exited his office, having just finished a conference call with the QC offices in Coast City. He had been about to ask Felicity what she wanted for lunch, but had been shocked and concerned at the sight of Felicity, wrapped in Diggle's arms. She was wiping tears from her cheeks, as Diggle tried to comfort her.

Oliver had asked what was wrong, but Felicity had brushed him off, telling him that it was nothing, and then excused herself to use the ladies room.

The second Felicity had left, Oliver had turned to his bodyguard, demanding to know what was wrong. Diggle had shook his head, informing Oliver that he had promised Felicity that he wouldn't say anything. Oliver had begun to protest, but the other man had simply raised his hand, silencing him.

"Look, man," the older man had said. "Have you noticed that she's been grabbing her morning coffee at the overpriced hipster joint across the street? Well, this morning, she was running late and didn't have time to stop. So, she went to the break room and, well…"

"What?" Oliver had questioned, confused and concerned about what could be bothering Felicity.

"Come on," Diggle had said in a tired voice. "You must have heard what they're all saying."

A forbidding feeling had crept its way up Oliver's spine. He had excused himself and quickly made his way to the break room.

And now, here he was, hearing it all first hand. He felt a wave of anger rush through his body at the things the women were saying. The horrible lies and rumours that were being passed around. Rumours about his friend, his teammate, his… Felicity.

He cleared his throat loudly, announcing his his presence to the women inside. They spun around in surprise. Their eyes widening at the sight of Oliver, their boss, standing in front of them.

"Ladies," he greeting, his voice adopting the familiar cadence of his old shield, Ollie Queen.

"Mr. Queen," the woman standing nearest to him, was the first to recover from the shock of seeing him. There was a flirtatious look in her eyes as she looked him up and down. "How are you? Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I'm not doing so well," he replied, as he took a few steps towards them. He could see them reacting to his old charms. The familiar looks that he had seen on women's faces, before the island, the want, the lust.

The woman who had spoken to him was moving towards him, like a cat on the prowl, looking him up and down, despite the ring that was shining on her finger.

"See, I'm having a little problem," Oliver continued.

"I'd be happy to help," the woman lead on. "In anyway I can."

Oliver smiled, the grin felt false on his face. It had been a long time since he had showed this side of him. The playboy mask. "I was hoping you'd say that, because, you might be the only one that can help me."

The woman looked back at her companions, a triumphant look on her face.

"The thing is," Oliver paused, carefully choosing his next words. "I've been informed or some issues in the offices. Some rumours being passed around."

The woman froze at his words, the smile slipped off her face, replaced with a guilty expression.

"I can tell by the look on your face, that you know exactly what I'm talk about," Oliver continued, dropping the playboy act. "And I'm here to tell you that those rumours, those lies, they stop now. Am I understood?"

The woman looked back at her friends, not speaking.

"They will. Because if I hear of them again. If I hear even a whisper of my EA's name even breathed, I can promise you," Oliver threatened, his tone was similar to the one that he used on the criminals of Starling City each night. "I will personally see that each and every one of you, are fired. And I will ensure that none of you will be able to work in this city again. Do we have an agreement?"

The women all nodded, fearfully, still not speaking.

"Excellent," he said, once again using his old playboy bravado. "You're all excused. And please, pass my message along to your friends."

With one final glare, Oliver turned on his heel and left the room, heading back in the direction of his offices. However, once he reached the ladies washroom nearest to his office, he paused. He took a hesitant step towards the door and taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and knocked on the door.

"Felicity?" he called through the door. "Are you in there?"

"I'm fine, Oliver," came her muffled reply. "I'll be there in a minute."

"I'm coming in," Oliver declared and without waiting for her response, he pushed the door open.

"What?" Felicity shrieked. "Oliver… No! What are you doing?"

He entered the room, locking the door behind him and walked up to Felicity, stopping only mere inches from her. His gaze flew over her features, taking in her red eyes and the makeup that was smudged in rings beneath them.

"Oliver, this is the ladies room," Felicity groaned. "You can't be in here. If anyone saw you… The things they'll be saying now."

Oliver put his hands on Felicity's shoulders, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Don't listen to them. Don't you ever listen to them," he said firmly.

"It shouldn't bother me," Felicity scolded herself. "I know that. But when I hear them. It's like, suddenly, I'm a thirteen year old girl again, listening to the mean girls are school telling everyone that I'm the daughter of a stripper, which wasn't even true. That I'll never amount to anything. That I'm worthless."

Oliver moved his hands to face face, gently cupping her cheeks, he used his thumbs to brush away the remnants of tears. "They're wrong," he told her. "You are Felicity Smoak. You graduated MIT, at 19, with two masters degrees. You can hack into the SCPD, the FBI and ARGUS, blindfolded in under 10 minutes. Your IQ is probably higher than all of their put together.

"You, Felicity Smoak, are a hero. I would be dead 100 times over if it weren't for you," Oliver stated. "They might not know that, but I do. And you do. And their opinions, as hurtful as they are, mean nothing."

"I know," Felicity whispered. "It just hurts, when I hear it. It's like nothing I do matters. All I'm seen as is some blonde that's trying to sleep her way to the top."

"I will never see you like that," Oliver promised. "And I will remind you of that, every single day, until you believe it. Besides, I just threatened them, that it they spread anymore rumours, they'd all be out of a job."

"Oliver," Felicity stuttered. "You can't…"

"I can. And I did," Oliver said, taking a step back from Felicity. "No one talks about My Girl Wednesday like that."

"It's Friday," Felicity corrected.

"Whatever," Oliver brushed her comment off. "Now, what do you say we grab some Big Belly Burger, I'm starving."

"With extra fries?" Felicity asked, following Oliver out of the washroom. "And milkshakes?"

"Obviously," Oliver replied.

"Okay," Felicity answered.

The pair walked over to the elevator as Oliver texted Diggle, informing him of their plans.

"Oliver?" Felicity said hesitantly.

"Hmm?" he responded, distracted as he looked down at his phone.

"Thank you."

Oliver raised his eyes to look at Felicity. Her cheeks were flushed and she was nervously chewing her lip. Her makeup was still smudged under her eyes and her face was framed by hair that had slipped from her usual perfect ponytail. But to him, she had never looked more beautiful.

"Anytime," he replied, pushing away those thoughts. Thoughts that he couldn't afford to think, not right now, maybe not ever.