Chapter 3; chugging away, eh? Once again. Any continuity errors, or heck, anything you want to see. Let me know with a review, and I'll see what I can do.

Disclaimer: Me no own Arrow.

In retrospect, it was probably surprising that Felicity didn't have that much trouble deciding what to wear that night. For her date. With Oliver Queen. Of course, maybe it wasn't surprising at all. She knew him well, he knew her well. They'd seen each other on both their best and their worst days. There was no-one to impress, and considering the topic at hand, comfort was the most important factor in the atmosphere tonight; not looking nice. And that rule followed for both of them.

And thus, Felicity found herself in the same dress she'd worn into the casino that day, sitting across from Oliver with a fancy tablecloth and a glorious bottle of red wine between them. Already, deep in her mind, she was planning things. She knew sooner or later, he'd berate himself for letting her in. For 'putting her in danger', and that he would try to push her away, for her supposed safety. And she had already decided that she wasn't, under any circumstances, going to let that happen. She was living a dangerous life as it was. Even if she never got involved with Oliver Queen again, and the Hood never re-appeared; many people knew that she had helped the hood, not to mention the fact that she had hacked federal computer systems and the like...And whether or not Oliver was present in her life anymore, she would be in danger.

So what was the harm in being close to him? She sipped at her glass of wine as she listened to boss of both of her jobs, even if she was on indefinite vacation from one of them, at least at the moment, talked about things that were intensely personal to him. About the shipwreck, about surviving those first days with Yao Fei. About Fyres. Meeting Slade and Shado...it was a brief and quick explanation. About as simple and short of a story as anyone could possibly imagine considering all the events that had occurred. But that was fine; he was talking about it. And that was the part that was important about all of this in the end.

She nodded along to the story, paying explicit attention to every detail that he shared with her. Asking minor questions here and there for clarification, but certainly not interrogating him on any particular matter. And most importantly to Oliver; her expression remained neutral throughout his entire story. She didn't pity him, she didn't praise him for learning to kill. He didn't need her pity, he certainly didn't want it, serving by his actions towards everyone over the last year or so. What he did need, was her support. And support is what she offered. Support and acceptance.

"I feel like I'm talking way too much." Oliver chuckled, taking a sip of his own wine across from the table after finishing the main course of their meal. Causing one blonde IT expert to crack a smile.

"Oh, please. Go on. For once I'm not doing all the talking. And I like having your voice in my ear." It was a dirty little smirk she wore. And whatever drove her to reference the mission in which she'd worn this dress last was beyond her. But she considered it entirely worth it when Oliver threw his head back and burst out in a short laugh. The second laugh she'd ever heard from him. And it was a beautiful sound. She loved it. Chuckles? All the time. Smiles? Plenty enough to make a girl melt. But laughs? Not so common. And she would do her best to change that.

"That was one of your more amusing slip ups. Even if I didn't laugh at the time." He admitted, shaking his head at the memory. He had been far too concerned with her safety at the time to have done anything but worry. And so he hadn't laughed, at the time. He had barely even recognized that she'd said it, while he had been mentally calculating the numerous ways he could get into the casino if he were to hear anything go wrong...

"I'm glad you didn't. I was embarrassed enough as it was." Felicity giggled. And then took a second to ponder if she'd maybe had a little too much wine already, before she shrugged it off and took another sip. "To be honest, my least favorite part about that, was knowing you were probably going to kill to come save me. That was my least favorite part about anything related to the Hood...I didn't sign up to be an accomplice in killing people, or orphaning kids...or anything like that. But somewhere between me signing on, and when you finally found Walter, I began to realize exactly how much good you were doing in this city. And that there's plenty of people you stopped without killing. I think, deep down, the Hood is just as much a part of you now as Oliver Queen is. But neither of them are really you. I think you're somewhere in the middle. You're someone else now, and that doesn't mean you have to be a killer. But if it's kill or be killed...I don't think anyone would blame you for making the choice to survive. And I know I'm rambling and getting off track. But you're not a playboy anymore, and you're not just the hood. You're Oliver, and I want you to know that I know that. And you don't have to pretend to be anything around me."

Just as she had for his long and complicated story about his first year on the island, Oliver listened intently to her rambling speech. And at the end, he wasn't exactly sure how to respond to her. It took him a moment to realize that she wasn't trying to convince him to pick the hood back up. Not right now, anyway. He could tell from her body language and her tone of voice that she was just being as honest with him as he'd been with her a moment before. Trusting him with her opinion. And in her own little way, telling him that she didn't think he'd done anything wrong. That honesty, that trust; meant everything.

What she was doing, was telling him that he could be himself around her. And if being himself did mean being the hood, then she would be right by his side, even if she didn't like the killing. Because she believed it was all for the greater good. But his mistakes and his failures still haunted him. "I failed, Felicity. This city depended on me, and I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop the undertaking."

There was a short, sarcastic laugh with no humor behind it from Felicity's side of the table, and that threw him off. "Oliver, no one could have stopped it. Even if you'd somehow guessed there was a second device, how would you have known where it was? We barely found the first one. Not to mention that we didn't have anyone to disarm both devices. There was nothing you could have done." And there wasn't. As far as one Felicity Smoak was concerned, the blame for the fall of the Glades lay squarely on Malcolm Merlyn's shoulders, and The Hood was the only reason that thousands of people in the city had survived that misguided act of revenge from the Dark Archer.

"It was all Malcom Merlyn. And as far as I'm concerned, you stabbed yourself in the chest. With an arrow. To save thousands of people. That kind of makes the Hood a Hero, not just a killer. Doesn't it?" Felicity continued, switching her reference to the Hood to an outside party as a waitress came into earshot to ask them if they wanted any dessert.

The grateful look on Oliver's face for changing the reference wasn't unnoticed by the blonde as she smiled and looked over to the waitress. "I think I'll have some cheesecake..."

And as she ordered, Oliver couldn't help but think that this was the best first date he'd ever been on.