Disclaimer: Yup, nope, not mine.
Felicity sat in the dark, on the third last stair of the grand staircase in the atrium of the Queen Manor. Is it still the 'Queen' Manor, she wonders. She's going to call it that anyway, she has a little trouble letting go sometimes.
It's cold but she can barely feel it really. Mostly it's adrenaline and fear that she feels, they don't leave too much room for things like cold. Though there's a promise of this to come because a chill runs down her spine at every random creak the old house shares with the silence. He'll be here soon, Slade, she's straining her ears to listen out for the first sounds of his arrival.
Sitting there she couldn't bring herself to be angry at neither herself nor Oliver. She couldn't be angry at herself; it wasn't the right time to be thinking about the rush that coursed through her in the second that she had so easily believed his words. He was her boss and her partner and it was no time for her to be drowning through the mess that is how she feels about Oliver.
She couldn't be angry at Oliver either, despite her initial confused anger at being benched and she didn't even want to think about the angry flare of annoyance when it occurred to her that she wasn't even consulted about the plan. She couldn't be angry because he had finally applied logic, he had taken her advice was playing Slade's game and for once he was a step ahead. She couldn't be angry because in his own way he had shown the depth of the trust he had for her.
Her thoughts are clear; they weren't really before to be honest. Not until she felt Oliver slip that syringe into her hand. She was a beyond normal mess before that, if only for a second. To say that the 'I love you' shocked her silent was, in her case an underwhelming description. The cold cylinder of plastic broke through her cloud. Her focus sharpened. She told him she understood.
She heard a door close for sure this time, somewhere from inside this giant house. She hears metal scratch across a wall. He's here.
They were partners she thought. This is what they do. The trust went both ways and ran deep. He trusted her with this all important syringe, he trusted that she'd know exactly what had to be done and above all and everyone, he trusted her to do it. This was the power play, she was the flick pass that nobody expected, but that just may go all the way. Most of all she trusted that he understood he was putting her at risk and she trusted him to be the hero. She trusted that he would do everything in his power to make sure she was going to get through this.
She used the word trust a lot just then, but that's what she holding on to. She can hear him coming for her now, his heavy boots carrying him toward her. Slade isn't as quiet as Oliver.
Felicity stands and releases her white knuckle grip on the railing. Slipping the syringe deep into her coat pocket, she sets her shoulders. She could've run straight out the front door but her life, her choice. She can do this. She is going to do this. She's going to do whatever she can to help him keep a promise he once broke, for her. She level's her gaze to the doorway and meets the slits of the black and orange mask.
"Good evening, Miss Smoak"