I've had part 2 of this story sitting on my computer for awhile. It's a glimpse into Oliver and Felicity's romance as teens. There's no smut here. Thank you for your reviews and favorites! I hope you enjoy.

Happy New Year!

A wedding ring was suppose to symbolize the unending love between two people who pledge their love before God and family. Felicity had started to view it as a chain that needed to be broken. After her night with Oliver, she hired a divorce attorney and kicked her husband out of their condo. He tried to deny his own affair, but after she threw the panties in his face, he packed his bags and left. Now it was six months later, and she was finally able to sign her divorce papers. She thought maybe she would feel some remorse. Instead, she was exhilarated. After today, she would no longer be Felicity Smoak-Watson, but instead, Felicity Smoak.

The same Felicity Smoak who fell for Oliver Queen so many years ago.

Some Unnamed Years Ago

She was felled by mischievous blue eyes. Sixteen year old Felicity Smoak was not known for being sidetracked by a pair of pretty eyes. She was more likely to lose time writing code. However, on a Fall day at Starling Prep, she looked up into a pair of blue eyes and felt her world change. She was on her butt, on the floor, red faced and gazing at the hottest guy she'd ever seen in her life. Her books were sprawled around her and her hair was falling out of its ponytail. Despite all of this, she couldn't get her brain to function and command her body to get off the floor. She was just sitting there, gaping at him.

"Are you okay?" He asked, concerned that she may have hit her head. He held his hand out, hoping she'd take it. "Do you need the nurse?"

She finally found her voice! "I'm...I'm fine," she stammered, taking his offered hand. "I didn't see you there."

He hauled her up and smiled down at her. Whoa he was tall. Like really tall and hot. Really hot with blue eyes. Blue eyes that she felt she could fall into.

"Oliver Queen," he said.

"Felicity...Felicity Smoak," she replied. She could feel her cheeks warming as his gaze focused on her.

He bent down and gathered her books and papers. "I'm sorry for running into you like that."

"I wasn't paying attention," she assured him. "I'm fine."

He bit his bottom lip as a devilish light entered his eyes. "Yes you are fine."

Felicity's eyes widened at his words. Then she burst out laughing, unable to stop herself. That was such a cliche line. "Do you use that line on all girls, or am I just special?"

His cheeks were a bit ruddy from embarrassment. Girls tended to swoon when he threw a line at them, not laugh. He had seen the amazed look on her face when she looked up at him. He found the faint blush that rose to her cheeks attractive.

Running a hand through his hair, he gave her a sheepish grin. "The lines usually work."

Taking her books from his hand, she gave him a wink and told him, "Try not saying a line next time."

For the first time since he started liking girls, one walked away from him, though with a definite sway to her hips.

Two Months Later

He'd never worked so hard to get a date. For two months, Oliver chased after Felicity, asking her out. He bought her flowers and chocolates, but soon learned she didn't fall for the usual. He talked with her and learned she had a love of movies, tv and computers. The way she lit up when she talked about computers and the future of technology was mesmerizing. The passion in her eyes turned him on like nothing else ever had. He finally realized what to buy her. He went to a pawn shop, which was an experience in itself, and bought her an old computer. You would of thought he had given her a diamond ring with the way she lit up after he gave it to her.

After giving her the computer to demolish and put back together, she agreed to go to the movies with him. He'd never been so nervous in his life. Usually, he was calm and knew how the night was going to end. He was sixteen, good looking and rich. All the girls he dated always offered to sleep with him the first night.

Felicity was different. He actually liked her. She called him out on his bullshit from day one. She didn't expect flowers or jewelry. And she made him smile. He also knew she wasn't going to give him a hand job while they watched the movie. Despite how attracted he was to her, he wanted to go slow with her. She was innocent and real with him.

When he picked her up at her apartment, he was greeted at the door by an older, more flashy, version of Felicity. Her mother.

"Well if it isn't a Queen at my door," she said, a smirk on her face. "Come in. Felicity will be out in a minute."

Oliver followed her inside. Once the door shut behind him, he took a moment to look around him. He was in living room, which was dominated by a red l-shaped sofa. Copies of famous paintings adorned the walls and a scuffed up coffee table rested on a multi-colored rug. The room wasn't large but felt like a home. Honestly, the living room was the same size as a guest bath at the Queen mansion. He was looking at the artwork when Felicity entered the living room.

"Oliver," she said.

He turned, eager to see her. She looked beautiful. Her hair, which he had only seen in a ponytail, was down, resting just past her shoulders. She wore makeup. Her lips were painted a deep and distracting red. She was dressed in a red summer dress that ended just above her knees. He was speechless.

Felicity grew concerned at his silence. Her mother told her red was a great choice for a dress. She wasn't use to dressing up but felt she looked pretty when she looked in the mirror. Did he not like it? Was the dress too red? Was this whole date a joke?

"You look beautiful," he told her, easing her rising fears. A blush rose to her cheeks at the admiration in his eyes. "Ready to go?"

"Yes," she told him, eyes shining with pure joy.

Six Months Later

Walking down the hallway hand in hand was still surreal to her. Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak caused a stir throughout the school when they went public with their relationship. He was rich. She was poor. He loved to party. She quoted Star Trek. No one understood why they were together. More than a few girls tried to persuade him to stray. For once, he didn't feel tempted.

"Focus," Felicity teased Oliver as she helped him with his calculus homework. Despite his many pleadings, she refused to actually do the work for him.

He ran his hand up the side of her smooth leg. "How am I suppose to focus when you're wearing a skirt like this?"

Felicity knew how he would react the moment she put the skirt on that evening. Her mother took her shopping the previous weekend and bought her what she called date clothes. The white tennis skirt was one of those items. She didn't normally wear short skirts, or short anything, but couldn't resist showing off to Oliver. When he opened the front door of the Queen mansion and saw her, he knew he was in trouble.

It was late Spring, just few weeks shy of Summer vacation. Her legs were already tanned and looked so long in that skirt. He wanted to ditch his calculus book and focus on feeling her legs wrapped around his waist. But she wouldn't let him, even though she didn't remove his hand when it settled on her thigh. While she explained the different formulas, he plotted how to get his hands up her skirt.

Six months of dating, and the most they had done was heavy petting. His hard-on felt constant most days. Most nights he jerked off to thoughts of her breathy moans in his ear.

Leaning forward on his bed, she whispered into his ear, "Finish and I'll let you find out what I'm wearing underneath this skirt." She leaned away from him, an impish grin on her face. Oliver groaned, but was now determined to finish his homework.

Twenty minutes later, he was done. He slammed his book shut, shoved his notebook into his book bag and shoved it all onto the floor. He plucked Felicity off his bed and into his lap. She yelped and braced herself on his chest.

"Oliver!"

"I'm done," he told her. His hands ran up her legs, stopping at her hips, not wanting to push her too far.

She reached up and took her hair out of its ponytail. She shook her head and her hair settled around her shoulders. "That was quick."

He pressed a kiss to her jawline. "I have an excellent tutor who gives me great motivation."

Felicity pressed her forehead to his and took in a shuddering breath. She wanted more with him. Though not all the way more. Just the next step in the physical part of their relationship. He'd been so patient with her. During the six months they had been dating, she hadn't felt pressure to have sex wit him. She was discovering, even though she wasn't ready for sex, she was ready for more than a few caresses and major make out sessions.

"Touch me," she whispered.

Oliver froze. Her whispered words shot straight to his groin, making him harder than he already was. "Felicity…"

"I want you to touch me," she assured him. "Just touch."

He leans back from her embrace and looks into her eyes. There wasn't any hesitancy in her gaze. She really wanted him to touch her.

"Okay," was all he could manage to say before his hand traveled further up her skirt than it had ever gone before.

One Month Later

Her heart felt shattered. Felicity sat in her room, listening to songs about heartbreak and love gone wrong. She and Oliver broke up earlier that day. Two weeks after saying I love you to each other for the first time, they were over with. He didn't cheat. She didn't fall out of love with him. They had a stupid fight about her being his date at a charity event hosted by his parents. She didn't want to go. She wouldn't have felt comfortable around all that glitz and glamour. Plus, she didn't have anything to wear. He told her he would buy her a dress. She told him she didn't want him buying her a dress like she was a charity case. Those words then escalated into a screaming match between them.

Now they were done and she wasn't sure if the pieces of her heart would ever heal.

Present Day

Felicity wasn't sure if her heart ever healed from that break-up. At sixteen, she fell in love with Oliver Queen and never fell out of love with him. He'd been her first real boyfriend, the first guy to really understand her, the first to more than kiss her and the first I love you. When she married her husband, she thought, finally she was over him. But then she saw those blue eyes again and felt the spark shoot through her body when they shook hands and knew; knew what they had as teens never went away.

Oliver came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Everything okay?"

She sighed and leaned back into his embrace. "Yes. Just remembering how much I've always loved you."