Author's Note: Here we go, everyone! I can never get enough of protective Oliver and Diggle, so I definitely needed that, with a side order of eye sex.

Read, and please let me know what you think!


"No." Oliver's voice was firm.

"Oliver," Felicity interjected, but Oliver was quicker. "You don't need to be there. Me or Digg can do it."

"Do what?" argued Felicity. "You don't even know what I'm planning. If you and Digg can clear out that room for 20 seconds, I can take down the network, and they'd never be able to figure out what's wrong to fix it."

"Twenty seconds," said Oliver slowly, as Diggle's voice went up simultaneously, "Twenty seconds?"

"It's called a crossover cable," Felicity explained. She stood up to face them. "You know what a regular Ethernet network cable is, right?" Blank looks stared back at her again.

"The cable that plugs into the back of your computer that looks like a giant version of a telephone cord?" Digg started nodding slowly, which Felicity took as a positive sign to continue.

"A normal Ethernet cable is called a patch cable. It's what we use every day to connect our computers, servers, everything to the router. We use them here, they use them there.

"A crossover cable is wired differently. The purpose of the cable is to connect hardware directly to a server, without going through a router. It plugs in the same way, but the network will never connect if you use that type of cable the way they are using a regular Ethernet cable now."

Oliver and Diggle were still staring, clearly trying to keep up so she felt the need to continue.

"Actually, I've secretly always wanted to do this, just never to stop some actual bad guys. Frankly I've always thought it would make a really good prank one day."

She slowly walked back to her chair. "I guess I'll be happy I'm getting to do it in some way, shape or form."

"We haven't decided you're doing it yet," growled Oliver.

"There's one thing I don't get," Diggle spoke up from his spot in the room. "If these cables are different, how would whoever is back there not be able to figure out what's going on?"

"Have you ever looked closely at a telephone wire?" asked Felicity.

"Maybe?" replied Diggle. "Maybe if you tell me what I was supposed to be looking at?"

"At the end of the cable, where the cable actually connects to the computer, or telephone, if you look at that plastic connector you can actually see wires. Those individual wires are called pin connectors, and they're all different colors.

"In layman's terms," she continued, "If you swap those colors, you swap how the cable works. It looks exactly identical to an Ethernet cable, it's just that the pin connectors are reversed."

"And you can make one of these cables?" asked Oliver, clearly curious.

"Mint chip answer again?" replied Felicity without even looking up this time. "Some girls carry compact mirrors in their purses. I carry networking tools."

"So you want to just go in there and swap the cable," said Diggle. "The regular cable that's already there, for your 'special' cable, that looks identical."

"Yes," Felicity nodded. "Swapping a cable is 20 seconds, tops. I just need you," she turned her attention to Oliver, "to make sure the server room is empty before I go in there. I make the switch, then the tech can go back in there and have fun trying to figure out why their network just went down."

Oliver was still holding his ground. "I still don't see why you need to be there. This is something that Digg or I can do. Felicity, we need you here."

Felicity paused at that. Flashbacks to her earlier conversations with Oliver had her hearing the subtext beneath his words. She knew what Oliver was saying without being able to say it. He wanted her to stay here. He needed to know she was safe.

She forced herself to ignore him, knowing that if she focused on his words she could actually possibly let herself be swayed by them.

Instead, she focused on why she knew it needed to be her doing the switch, and gave Oliver an incredulous look.

She walked over to a cabinet behind her desk and rummaged for a few moments when she emerged with two almost identical rectangular objects in her hands.

"OK, Oliver. I'll let you do it."

"Really?" Felicity almost laughed, he had the same hopeful look the first time she sarcastically told him she would bring him a coffee.

"I'll let you do it," Felicity continued, watching Oliver's eyebrow raise, "if you can tell me which one of these items is the router, and which one is just a switch." She held up the two objects.

Oliver opened his mouth for a second and then promptly closed it again, while raising his finger hesitantly. Finally, admitting defeat, he lowered his hand and pressed his lips together.

"Exactly." Felicity triumphantly lowered her arms. "Your computer skills on your best day wouldn't get you through your way around a server room."

His eyes were dark. "I don't need to know how to use a server to put an arrow in it." His voice turned low and dangerous.

Expecting this, Felicity had an answer ready. "Oliver, we need whoever it is to not have a reason to think this transaction won't go through. My way is transparent."

"And my way can just put an arrow in whoever it is, instead of the server." He wasn't going to let this go; she had to find another avenue.

"This plan is a temporary one," she fought. "We stop the transaction, we stop the weapons from going out tonight," she emphasized the last word. "That gives us the breathing room that we need." Her eyes glanced over to Diggle, silently asking for help.

Diggle mused thoughtfully, "She's right. We only know Baler's involved. If we stop this one from happening, we could take our time to find out every party he's delivering to. But if we want to do that, we can't let him know we're onto him tonight."

The pause of their voices made the silence unbearable, and the tension bounced off the walls. Oliver closed his eyes, looking like he was willing the situation to go away.

She put down the equipment she was holding and walked up to him and looked up. Standing right next to his chest, she could see the tightness in his jaw, the way all his muscles clenched.

His eyes were still screwed tightly shut, but he sensed her presence and slowly opened them. The pain in his eyes was palpable, and almost enough to make her look away.

"Look," she spoke softly, knowing in this state she would push him away if she used any other tone, "I know you don't want me going in there, and frankly if there was any other way I'd be perfectly happy to stay here and do it."

He still hadn't moved, so she decided to keep going.

"I'm very well aware how good things sound when we talk about them here versus when I'm actually out, there, doing it." The words were out of her mouth before she'd thought about them, and she instantly regretted it.

Oliver's lips tightened even more, and she knew he was thinking about her previous missions out in the field and the hesitations she always had right before them.

It also reminded her that once she was at the gala and it was time to do the job, all she'd want to do is turn around, and go home to her nice safe apartment where she could put on a pair of pajamas, pour a glass of wine, and be safe.

But like those previous missions, it was remembering why she was doing it that gave her the strength to continue. To stop more girls from falling victim to a serial killer. To find Walter. To stop the supply of Vertigo from hurting anyone else. And now, to stop the Glades from being overrun with dangerous weapons.

She shook her head and raised her eyes. "I'm not about to do anything crazy. I'm not a hero, you're the hero.

"I just want to make a difference. And this? This is something I can do. This is my job. It's what I can do. Your job is to keep me safe while I do it. And I know that's something you can do."

His eyes were hard and looking right into hers. She stared back for a few moments, and then it was suddenly too much. Unable to look at his eyes any more, she turned and headed into the bathroom.

She grasped her hands on either side of the sink and took a long, shuddering breath.

Oliver had followed her into the bathroom and was leaning against the door, silently. She knew he was there, but didn't turn around to look at him.

"You don't have anything to wear to a gala that you could get in time." The words were quiet and desperate, so quiet she was almost afraid she made it up in her head, and so broken she almost gave in right there.

He was trying so hard to give her a reason not to go. She realized he'd been out there, grasping at straws, until he finally found something that wasn't so remotely ridiculous he could come in and use it against her.

It was almost enough to break her resolve, until she remembered that it was her trying to convince them to let her do this, not the other way around.

"Actually, I do," she whispered, and didn't miss Oliver's surprised expression. Clearly he hadn't been expecting that answer.

She silently walked past Oliver at the door and over to her area next to the mat, reached down, and pulled out a balled up, red lump of fabric. She unrolled the fabric and gently shook it out. A pair of shoes and a hair clip tumbled from the center.

Oliver walked up and touched the fabric. His voice was soft and low. "This is the dress I got you the night at Alonzo's casino."

"I kind of forgot it was here. After we got back from the casino I- I just wanted to get out of it as quickly as possible." Memories of the news about Walter and Oliver's mother surfaced in Felicity's mind, and she knew what an emotional night that had been for both of them. "I have to shower anyway, the steam will get the wrinkles out."

She knew the moment when Oliver realized that his last trump card had been overturned. His face went from desperate to silent acceptance, and she saw he had made his decision.

"Fine. But we do this – "

"Your way. I know. Trust me," she raised her hands to face him. She wasn't going to bring up the last time she had done something her way. She still occasionally had nightmares about The Count's hands brushing against her ponytail, and what Oliver had had to do to save her.

"And my way, too." Diggle walked up to her. "He may be the one in the green suit but it's my job to keep you safe, too."

A part of her knew that Digg cared about her as a member of their team too, but that didn't stop her from appreciating it when his worry slipped through.

He held out his hand. In it contained a small dagger. "Keep this on you," he waited for her to take it.

Felicity stared at the dagger and her heart started thumping in her chest. She didn't honestly think she'd use it and was possibly starting to doubt the wisdom of this entire mission. "Digg, I-"

"Keep this on you," he repeated. "You probably won't need it and God knows I hope you don't, but like I said, if you're going out there, you're doing it my way too."

"Digg, is that really necessary?" The dismay in Oliver's voice was unmistakable.

"We've been working on it a few times," he nodded. "She knows how to use it enough that she can take it with her and I'll feel a hell of a lot better than I do now."

Felicity knew neither of them were happy about this, and if she even showed the slightest bit of hesitation, then they'd call it off right then and there. So she took the small dagger and tried to look more confident than she felt at the moment.

"If anyone asks I'll just say I'm really particular about my nail files. Thanks Digg, you sure know how to bring a feminine touch to a gala."

Diggle smiled to acknowledge her acceptance, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Seemingly satisfied that she took it, he turned and headed to his locker, and the mood once again shifted as everyone focused on getting ready to leave.

In record time, the transformation was complete and the three headed outside to drive to Baler Anderson's house. Felicity clung to her small clutch like a lifeline, glancing in to check its contents. In it contained her crossover cable, phone, dagger, and a large check as a donation to ensure their entry into the gala, which she vowed she would stop from clearing once the night was over.

Oliver held the door open and Felicity silently slid into the car, sweeping her dress underneath her. When she was seated, Oliver got in beside her and closed the door, Digg taking up position in the driver's seat.

For a few minutes there was silence as the car pulled away from the club, until Oliver's voice quietly filled the air.

"By the way, Felicity. You were wrong about one thing." She turned to look at him, curiously.

"I'm not the only hero. It's like Diggle said, I'm just the only one who wears the green suit."

He turned and looked at her with such conviction and with a level of intensity she couldn't have looked away if she wanted to. The air grew thick and she was fairly sure she tried to swallow a few times unsuccessfully.

"You don't realize it," he continued, and if anything, his features intensified as he continued to focus on her. "You are a hero, Felicity. You make a difference every day down there and you know we could never do this without you."

Somehow, it was exactly what she needed to hear. "Thank you," she managed to whisper, as she looked up so her sudden watery eyes wouldn't spoil her carefully applied makeup.

He nodded, and placed a warm hand over hers and gave a gentle squeeze.

As they sat there drawing strength from one another, Felicity contemplated the roles they would be playing tonight.

From a professional standpoint, they were Oliver Queen, CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, and Felicity Smoak, executive assistant to Oliver Queen.

Felicity closed her eyes and leaned against the headrest in the back seat of the car and, just for a moment, allowed herself to imagine what it could feel like to go to an event like this as Oliver's date.