Oliver returned to the bunker that night, spent. His stomach growled, and his mind went immediately to Felicity's voice. She'd suggest Big Belly Burger after an ordeal like this. He'd protest for maybe half a minute before giving into her pouty kitten eyes. She never failed to take his breath away, even when being manipulative and saccharine sweet. His bones ached like nothing else. To say the day with Ms. Bee and her Bee-generated boy toy had been trying would be an understatement. Something sharp pierced his hip through the pocket of his green leather pants. He stuffed his hand inside it and pulled out the offending object. Palm up, his eyes locked on the band of gold and diamond that held far too much meaning to him. Bitterness where hope once dwelled snaked through his chest. He continued staring at it – his mother's ring, the piece of himself, of his family, of the family he wanted to have with her. Why did he keep it with him? He was a glutton for punishment, this much he knew to the depths of his being, to the core of his bones. God, he wanted her back. But she was angry. It wasn't the normal Felicity angry. This was something he knew existed but never dared to fathom would overtake and simultaneously destroy his world. And it was all his fault.

He climbed the deck to her workstation. Only after a few long minutes of staring forlornly at it, did he notice Thea had left her newest mug there. "Keep Calm and Plunge On." He swore she'd only bought it to torment him into thinking he had a chance with Felicity, to plunge on when he knew full well after the conversation he had with Felicity twelve days, fourteen hours (he stopped to glance at his phone clock) twenty-three minutes ago, he'd destroyed everything. Turning away from the cruel tease of hope, he placed his mother's ring back in his pocket and, after another glance at her computers, moved towards the locker room where he changed to his pajamas. His Arrow suit firmly restored to its cooling place – the case she and Cisco had designed to insulate his and the rest of the team's gear – he slipped back into the elevator and hit the down button.

Oliver lived in the sublevel of his lair now, if living was what one would call it. He pretended to sleep, pretended to eat. He just wanted her back—her, and his life as a whole person. He wasn't anything close to one without her.

He settled onto his mattress, his phone next to him, and pulled up a picture of her. He placed it next to his pillow and tried to sleep. He felt like an idiot with a phone sitting next to his head. This was likely the type of thing teenage girls did with their unrequited crushes, but he didn't know what else to do. He was used to being alone for so many years, but now that he'd had her, he wasn't sure how to live alone again. So, what he lay awake like he did on most night trying to comfort himself with the picture beside him. His thoughts falling into the words he remembered from her that night. She'd thanked him for helping her with nearly the same amount of warmth in her eyes he had recently started taking for granted. Damn fool that he was. How could he have ever taken for granted the best thing in his life? He was definitely paying for being a world class idiot.

About five hours later, seven a.m. crawled past dawn. Oliver's rocky eyes opened after a semblance of sleep. He picked up his phone, intent on gazing at the picture of her before steadying himself for another day alone, when an alert caught his eyes. Beacon of Hope – Palmer Tech. He sat up, leaning over his phone cradled in his hand.

Felicity Smoak has recently labeled Palmer Tech Star City's Beacon of Hope. The freshman tech giant has recently prototyped an array of mind-boggling technology from a super battery to a microchip that purports to reverse spinal injuries. If successful and eventually made main stream, these advances will not only provide a beacon of hope for humanity but change the world as we know it forever. Last night, CEO Felicity Smoak publicly stated that Palmer Tech will lead the way in changing the world for all of us. Only time will tell how this will unfold. But Ms. Smoak says that she is dedicated to making this endeavor her life's mission. After her breakup with former mayoral candidate and maybe not so former playboy Oliver Queen, Ms. Smoak seems to be riding high. Perhaps being a single woman does do something for empowerment.

His heart clutched. She really was moving on. He powered down his phone, knowing Dig and Thea would give him hell for having it off. All he wanted to do today was train and monitor the boards for suspicious HIVE activity.

Dig showed up around 10am to monitor things with Oliver until Lyla texted him, saying that both she and the baby were sick. Dig apologized to Oliver halfway out the door. "Just the sniffles and maybe the flu, but duty calls, man."

Oliver wanted those types of responsibilities with Felicity. His phone buzzed again. It was Thea. "Ollie, I'm coming in later tonight. I have some things to do. You should do something today. Take yourself out to lunch, go to the movies, be a person." Oliver scoffed at the idea, but after several hours honing his arrows and beating up the strike dummy, he decided to go for a late lunch at Big Belly Burger.

His food was stuffed in the white and orange takeout bags he was accustomed to, but his order looked lonely – only one takeout drink. He rolled up the top of his bag then walked through the exit just as a familiar figure bumped his shoulder. Her scent struck him first. Lilacs and fresh soap. He inhaled sharply while every other sense froze.

"Oliver," she stammered.

"Felicity," he managed to croak. "You're here."

She pressed her lips together and nodded. "Yep. I'm here," she laughed her yeah, this is awkward laugh.

"What are you doing here?" God. He sounded like a moron.

"Getting something to eat," she stated the obvious, waving her hand inside the still open door in the direction of the order line.

Heat crawled up his neck. Then it was his turn to stammer, "Obviously. Sorry, I just. It's good to see you. You doin' okay after the whole…"

A woman pushed past them with an irritated grumble as Oliver and Felicity still blocked the entrance.

Felicity seemed to break out of her trance. "Well, I better go order," she said with a small smile that said goodbye.

"Yeah…" Oliver watched her for a moment until another patron pushed past him. "Sorry," Oliver said, sparing only a small glance at the man and his wife who'd just squeezed by before looking back at Felicity. The ring she didn't want any more, as always, burning inside his pocket. He thought of Thea's taunting mug. Plunge on. Then before he knew what he was doing, Oliver thrust back inside, grabbed a tray and took his food over to a booth. Determined, he removed his items from his bag and laid them out on the tray before crushing the bag and leaving it in a wad beside him on his seat. After Felicity finished her order, he took a breath, steeled himself for probable rejection, then flagged her over. When she spotted him, she shook her head but, to his relief, wore a tiny smirk.

"I distinctly noticed you had a to-go bag in your hand earlier and not a tray," she said, gesturing to the table in front of him.

"I like to use trays when I eat. They clean them better and more often than the tables."

She cocked an eyebrow. "I think that's the point." She was letting him play his game. She wasn't shooting daggers at him with her eyes. His heart swelled. But he wouldn't let it turn into full-on hope. Not yet. "Well, I better get going," she said finally, looking awkwardly at a table across the restaurant then back at him.

"Sit with me," he said quickly.

"I don't know."

"I won't bite. Promise."

She blushed and looked down. Okay, maybe hope was on the menu today.

"I… Oliver, I don't think it's a good idea for us to—"

"It's just lunch, Felicity."

She titled her head and looked at him with the most adorable expression. She was giving in. Please, just let her give in. "You know it's not just lunch, Oliver," she said, sliding into the opposite side of the booth.

He grinned. "So what'd you get?"

"The usual," she sighed indicating the Little Belly Burger and small fries on her tray. "Forgot my shake though. But it's okay. I'm getting good at denying myself the things I want. Sorry, I probably should haven't said that."

"Said what?" He smiled then winked at her. She didn't return either, but she didn't kick him or get up and leave, so it was a start.

They unwrapped their food and ate in silence. His victory continued to lose bits of its sweetness as the minutes ticked by. He was used to eating in comfortable silence with Felicity, but this was the first time, probably ever, a meal with her had been so tense.

Oliver hated it. He was awkward with the one person who before this made him feel more comfortable in his skin than anyone else ever had. Not just comfortable-blissful. It wasn't an emotion he was too familiar with before Felicity. As she dipped a fry into her ketchup, looking away from him, he took a moment to drink her in. She wore her hair down today without much curl and opted to wear her black sweater with white polka dots and black jeans. Her full lips were lightly painted a soft pink. Her nails a dark magenta. She pushed her drooping glasses closer to her beautiful face with the pad of her finger, then picked up another fry. His Felicity. It hurt not to reach out and touch her, to feel her skin against his.

"God, I miss you," he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Her head whipped up, and she looked at him, eyes round. She blinked a couple of times, then sighed. "I know you do." Oliver swallowed as she wiped her fingers on a napkin for a little longer than necessary before really looking at him. After a beat she finally said, "I miss you, too."

"You do?"

"Of course, I do, Oliver."

He smiled again, relaxing for the first time in days. He felt it from her. It was real. A beacon of hope, a strong light that stands in the distant fog guiding ships to safety. Felicity's light was distant from him now, but hers was the light that gave him hope – hope that he'd have her back in his life the way she was meant to be, hope that he could do anything, be anything, hope that she would be happy with him again.

Chapter 2

This was so right, he thought depositing two milkshakes on the table. They weren't even halfway through their meals, but she'd complained about forgetting to order one, and he couldn't resist doing something that might make her smile. "So, uh, how've you been feeling? Physically, I mean with your PT?"

"It's been good," she said sipping on her mint chocolate chip shake. "God. How can something so good be so bad for you? It should be criminal," she said, licking her top lip. Oliver bit the inside of his cheek. She was impossibly gorgeous – and the fact that she had no idea she was made her all the more appealing. He cleared his throat and expelled a breath to situate his mind. Her blue eyes, holding curiosity and a somewhat all-encompassing understanding of him, pinned him for a moment. Then she looked down and acknowledged, "Paul is great."

Oliver scratched the back of his neck. "About that… Well, about Curtis. You know he could never replace you on the team." It was true. He couldn't. Felicity was more than just a brain and a hacker to Oliver. She was his other half, a half lost to him right now, but that wasn't the point. He wanted her to know that she was special – still a vital member of the team, even in the midst of this hiatus. Hope allowed him to believe that was all it was, not the permanent status her broken heart claimed it to be.

"Seems like he did a pretty good job last night," said Felicity, bravado lacing her tone. He didn't miss this the gossamer quiver that crept its way in.

Oliver nodded. "He was terrific, of course. He saved us, but you know? So did you."

"You didn't do too badly yourself," she reminded him.

A brief smile beat across his face. "We're a team," he said softly. The air lightened and their eyes locked. Then just as quickly as it came it shrank into nothing.

"I'm not sure this was a good idea," Felicity said abruptly, flagging down a waitress. What just happened? "Can I get this to go?" she asked the woman in the blue and white apron who in turn gave her a curt nod.

Oliver covered her hand with his. "Don't go. Please, let's just finish eating first, and-" He felt like such a fool. Never had anyone reduced him to such a vulnerable state, but this wasn't just anyone. It was Felicity. She mattered more to him than anyone else, and he was endanger of losing her forever. His mind flashed with cold realities of himself lonely and alone, things he'd faced before but never with the memory of her.

"You haven't taken more than three bites since I got here. And I'm not that hungry anymore."

Before Oliver had a chance to respond, a paparazzo with an intrusive camera lens, appeared and snapped their photo. "You two love birds on the mend, I see." He pulsed his forefinger a few more times, gathering an array of offending shots. The lights and shudder from his invasive weapon bothered Oliver for her sake only. He'd grown up learning to ignore the cretins.

"Get lost," Oliver said evenly, more focused on getting Felicity not to leave. But he could see it was a losing battle.

Felicity hoisted her purse onto her shoulder then headed for the door. Tongue dry and helpless, Oliver watched her go. He slammed his fist onto the table. When he looked up, the photographer had gone, too. Oliver sighed. This was getting to be too much. He didn't know how much more he could take.

Before he could bury himself in despair further, a noise peeled into the building from outside - screeching tires then – CRASH! Leaving his food behind, Oliver bolted through the restaurant's doors, eyes surveying the scene frantically. Panic spidered through his veins. "Felicity!" he shouted when he spotted her crumpled on the ground where the sidewalk met the road.

"She pushed some lady out of the way," said a bespeckled man in an orange hoodie. "Then the car sorta went after her, so I had to push her, and –"

"Thank you," he said to the man as he fell to his knees beside her. "Felicity, are you hurt?"

She sat up, to his relief, rubbing the back of her neck. He cupped her cheek, and she shut her eyes, leaning into his support.

Then - "Oliver, look out!" Felicity cried. He turned to see a hooded figure in nearly all gray hurtling toward him. He swiftly pivoted, knocking the assailant off his feet. When the man in the gray mask sprung up, Oliver smacked his fist into his face and sent him to the ground. Two other men in similar masks appeared, one lunging for Felicity, the other for Oliver. Ghosts. Felicity scrambled back as Oliver quickly strangled then threw back the ghost attacking him then pulled the other one, who'd gotten hold of Felicity's leg, back by the neck. It took everything in him not to snap it. Instead he turned him around and punched him too, knocking him out expertly. "Felicity," Oliver said, desperately, going to her side. He helped her to her feet when he felt a dart plunge into his shoulder. He cried out in pain but did not waste a beat before grabbing Felicity's hand and running with her in the direction of his Ducati. He ripped the dart out and threw it to the ground long before they reached the bike. He secured her on the back. She did not resist. "Hang on to me," he told her. She leaned against his shoulder as they took off.

About ten minutes later, Oliver and Felicity arrived at the bunker.

"You okay?" Oliver asked as they climbed off his motorcycle then headed into the main room. Felicity shrugged, striding into the hub of the lair. Strong. Resilient. She was back. Home. Fuck. Plain sliced through him from where the dart had punctured him. She moved to him on instinct, eyes searching his while her fingers delicately assessed his wound. He swallowed watching her movements, daring not to speak. What was she thinking? Did she want to leave? She couldn't. This was the way it was supposed to be, but it wasn't the way she wanted it, was it? She'd made that clear. He tried to discern her emotions, but Felicity seemed to be more focused on Oliver's injury than anything else.

Without missing a beat, she led him to the med table. "Sit," she commanded before expertly going for the medical supplies. "Do you feel woozy?"

"No," he said softly, swallowing. "Felicity..."

"Shh." She placed her hand on his forehead after checking his wound. It felt like magic coursing through him. She was back taking care of him, making sure he didn't drown in the life he'd made for himself. "Okay," she whispered as she continued her ministrations.

After she finished dressing his shoulder, Oliver instinctively clutched her fingers and brought them to his lips. She gasped but did not pull away. Emboldened, he kissed her palm, then her knuckles before bringing her hand to his cheek. "Thank you," he whispered.

She pulled her hand back, looking pained. "You're welcome."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

"It's okay, Oliver. I know this isn't easy, but—"

He nodded, looking down. His heart ached like nothing else. He needed her so much. "It's okay, Felicity." His breath hitched when he felt her soft fingers inching up his cheek. He looked up and saw the love he'd been missing for so many weeks shining back at him.

"Oliver…"

He swallowed, covering her hand with his. "Felicity…please?" His plea was met with a small nod as he licked his lips, his eyes on her beautiful mouth. Then through a force he could not control, he titled his head up to kiss her for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. It was like coming home after a perilous time in the desert. When she whimpered, his heart filled – half-life whole again, and the chaste kiss turned hungry. Then to his utter joy, he felt her hand snake into his hair and pull him closer. He'd never felt anything so incredibly right. His Felicity was home. He kissed her feverishly for a long while, devouring her mouth, reacquainting himself with the taste of her. Then she pulled back. Did this really mean something? Or was it just a break in restraint on her part. As if reading his mind, she spoke –

"I don't want to think about what this means," Felicity said, dropping her forehead to his. "And I know this should be happening, but—" She picked up his hand, twining their fingers. Another gesture that made him hope. "I want to talk about this, about us, if there is an us someday, maybe soon. I just…." She trailed off then turned her head away from him. He cupped her face and waited until her eyes met his again.

"Can you look at me and see me again?" he asked, his voice soft, a tenor he found appeared only when speaking to her.

"I always see you, Oliver," she assured him. "I just want to know that you see me."

"I do, Felicity. More clearly than I've ever seen anyone. You're not just my light, but you're a whole and beautiful person who brings something to everyone around her. I can't help but loving you because I see that." He expelled a shaky breath. "I screwed up. I hate myself for it. I don't want to do that again. I couldn't if you held a gun to my head. You mean everything to me."

She pressed a kiss to his forehead then banded her arms around his waist. It was all he needed. He pressed his face into her neck, inhaling. He thanked whatever god would have him for her.

"Let's go to bed," she whispered after a long while in each other's arms. Oliver stiffened. "Not like that, buster."

He grinned against her skin then kissed it. Bringing his gaze to hers, he waggled his eyebrows.

She laughed, making his heart lift. "Stop getting excited. John just told me you haven't been sleeping and, well, come on." She kissed his cheek, then took his hand and led him to the elevators.

When they arrived in his tiny room, they settled on his bed and curled into each other. Oliver was surprised to hear her sigh as contently as he did when her head settled on his chest.

He combed his fingers through her hair. "Is this okay?" he whispered. She nodded. "Felicity?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think we might make it?" he asked. He was afraid, vulnerable in a way he really would never be outside of their bubble. But it was okay. She held his heart. He'd given it to her long ago, to love, cherish, heal, or even break. It would never belong to anyone else.

"I don't know, Oliver," she said, placing a small kiss on his chest. "I still believe in you, ya know?"

"You do?"

"Yes. But I don't want you to change. I'm not sure you can," she admitted.

"I changed from the Ollie I was before the island to the Hood I was after to something else. I know who I am more than I ever have because of you. I made a stupid choice with Samantha. She brought out fear, and I know now not to let anything like that come between us again. You taught me that, and believe me, Felicity, I've learned. God, I've learned," he said, his voice hitching as he held back a sudden sob.

"Shh, I know," she said softly, snuggling her cheek to his chest. "Goodnight, Oliver."

"Goodnight, Felicity. I love you." Then sleep and the first peace Oliver had known in weeks overtook him.

The next morning, Thea arrived with breakfast and a knock on Oliver's bedroom door. "Ollie, I know I said, I'd come by last night but—" she said, poking her head in then gasping, eyes taking in the scene before her. Oliver held a finger to his lips. Thea smirked then mouthed, "It's about goddamn time."

Oliver shrugged. "We'll see."

Felicity stirred. He gathered her closer then kissed the top of her head. Thea rolled her eyes. "You'll be married with babies before I hit twenty-five," she said before closing the door behind her. "I'm so claiming that, "she finished loudly from the other side, causing Felicity to fully waken.

"What? Oliver?" She sat up. She looked the crumpled morning version of Felicity, one of his favorite versions of her because he knew not many got to see it.

"Hi," he said with a small smile.

"How's your arm?" she asked, brows knit.

"Oh, that. It's good. Barely noticed it all night," he said before kissing her temple.

Felicity blushed then shook her head. "Well, I need to change the bandages. That is if you want me to. I mean, you can get Thea or John to do it for you later."

"I'd rather you do it," he said honestly.

She smiled a bit. "All right then. But this doesn't mean I'm back seven days and nights a week."

"Maybe just part-time?"

She chuckled drily. "Maybe just part-time."

They untangled themselves from each other. Oliver didn't want this moment to end. He knew getting things back on track with her wouldn't be easy. He knew there was a way he could screw it up all again simply because he was who he was and nothing every came easy to him, but he was willing to fight for her. "So, Palmer Tech, the beacon of hope?"

"It was kind of inspired by your sister and Brie."

"Okay," he replied with a chuckle, then smiled. "Part-time. That's good."

"Baby steps," she said, standing up.

"Sorry. I don't want to push you," he told her seriously. They looked at each other for a while, asking and answering questions that could not be said aloud yet.

Oliver thought about his mother's ring. Felicity said she wanted him to keep it for good. Maybe he would. It was his mother's ring after all. But maybe for this fresh start, he needed to get her something new, something all hers. When the time was right, if there ever did come a time for that, he'd get Thea to help him out, and hopefully, Felicity Smoak would become his wife. But for now, he was just happy to be with her – even if it was just for another day.