Chapter 3

Felicity hit 'End Call' on her phone, dropping it next to her mouse on her desk, sliding a hand over her sleek hair (pulled back in a ponytail), fighting the urge to run her fingers through it. She wished she had the satisfaction of hanging up an actual receiver. It was more visceral than tapping a screen.

Her mother's worst fears had been realized, as of five minutes ago.

Her cancer had progressed to Stage 3.

That meant chemo.

Probably a lot of chemo.

Felicity leaned back in her chair, trying not to think. Failing.

Her purse caught her eye, and she stared at it.

In it, amongst computer components, her personal tablet and (when she wasn't using it) cell phone, and her cosmetics, was her Stone. Her 'Oliver Jonas Queen' Stone.

It felt like a millstone around her neck.

Her mother asked her about it, but Felicity managed to put her off, saying they would talk that night. That got Donna excited, jumping to the (unfortunately right) conclusion that she got Matched. Fortunately, she missed Felicity's lack of enthusiasm, or ignored it.

Felicity was still working on how to deal with the revelation of who she was Matched with.

She knew her mother would be thrilled.

Not only was she Matched, but it was to one of the most powerful men in the city.

Which Felicity knew most would consider a good thing.

But she wasn't most people.

First, there was the man himself. He had a reputation with the ladies with looks to match, though he must be keeping on the DL lately, since he didn't feature in the tabloids as much. He was still sought after, and the phrase 'billionaire playboy' often followed his name.

At work, he was too intimidating by half. He single-handedly managed to save the company from ruin, and made everyone sit up and take notice in the process. Not someone to take lightly, regardless of his lack of a formal education.

Second, the timing of her Matching Ceremony could be seen as suspect. Having it happen the same morning her mother's test results came back... she shuddered to think how that would go down. True, she wouldn't have known he was her Match prior to, but that she went all would indicate a certain desperation she wanted to avoid association with.

Third, she worked for him. She didn't know what usually happened when it was an employer/employee situation, but she knew that she had worked far too hard to get where she was to wind up a rich man's wife. She also didn't imagine she would be allowed to work after he found out.

Especially since it would make little sense for Oliver Queen's wife to keep working for him.

That just did not happen.

Then there were his present circumstances.

With the tragic death of his parents and gaining sole custody of his much-younger sister, Oliver Queen was very busy and stressed. One only had to look at him to see that. So it was possible that in between his personal tragedy, running the company, and taking care of his sister... he might not be thinking about anything else.

Hopefully, that included his Stone.

Comforting herself with that thought, Felicity turned her thoughts from her way-too-attractive boss to carving out time to take care of her mother. Vaguely wondering if she should have worn something more exciting to work today instead of a floral blouse and black pencil skirt with matching black pumps.

"Got a hit, sir."

Oliver looked up at Diggle, still holding a french fry in his hand. It was about 1:00 pm, and as usual, Oliver hand opted to for a working lunch, and opted also to fed his employee and friend. While it seemed like he hardly moved, there were discarded food wrappers and containers around Diggle's work station. The only remnant being his drink, which sat a safe distance from his keyboard. As usual, the man was decked out in a black suit, though at the moment, the jacket hung over the back of his chair and his white shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

Oliver, of course, still had some of his fries left, his burger a memory and his drink still ¾ full... though he followed Dig's example and moved it away from his own keyboard. He wore a blue suit, though his jacket had long since been discarded over his coffee table, his own shirt sleeves rolled up in a similar manner. Oliver found himself to be nervous all morning, and couldn't remember what any of his food tasted like.

He was focused on one thing, and one thing only. Finding this Felicity Megan Smoak and hope she was willing to help him with his problem.

He spun out of his chair, hurrying over to his security chief, relieved to hear his pronouncement. True, it was lunch and not before, but Dig had still tracked her down, once again proving his worth to not only the company, but Oliver on a personal level.

Dig had come to work for QC a few years earlier, fresh out of the military and with no battle to fight. His experience, professionalism and dedication had him rising up in the ranks quickly, becoming one of their best. This fact became abundantly clear the day he saved Oliver from a crazed would-be assassin during an interrupted board meeting.

When it came time for the old security chief to retire, the choice of who should take his place was obvious.

Oliver once made the joke that he should just have Dig become his personal body guard full-time; Dig deadpanned that he still had a wife and two kids to go home to, 'sir'.

Oliver met the latest addition, John Jr. (aka JJ) at the company picnic last summer. With Lyla and little Sara, Dig had an adorable little family. Oliver could see how it would be nice to go home to that every night.

He hoped Ms. Smoak was amendable to the idea. Or at least was willing to think about it.

"What have we got?" he asked, leaning over Dig's shoulder to look at the screen.

His first impression was a good one. Thick blonde hair tied back from her face, big blue eyes, beautiful features. Her glasses only served to highlight her delicate cheekbones and perfect skin tone.

She was, without a doubt, an incredibly gorgeous woman.

If he was going to be tied to someone by the Ritual, he could do far worse.

"Graduated from high school early, accepted to MIT early decision, graduated with honors in the top 2% of her class. Only child to Donna Smoak and Noah Kuttler, though Dad disappeared from the scene when she was seven. Last name changed about the same time. Grew up in Vegas. Hired to one of the top companies in the industry at entry-level a year ago."

Entry-level. She would be one of the worker bees at the base of the hive, as his mother would put it. Potentially complicated, but if he could work around her boss, it shouldn't pose too many problems.

"Where?" he asked.

"Well, that's where it gets interesting," Dig told him, tapping a few keys.

"Define interesting." He hoped she didn't work for Merlyn Global. That would be all he needed. For her to work for Malcolm.

Another document appeared on the screen. "Does this look familiar?" the security chief asked.

It was an employee profile. For QC. And printed there, in big, bold letters, was Felicity's full name, and her picture.

She didn't work for Merlyn.

She worked for HIM.

Oliver looked down, processing this information.

And cursed.

"Well," Dig said lightly, "you don't have to go too far to find her. This says she's on the third floor."

Oliver's legs gave out, and he went down. The idea of being that close to his Match was so shocking, it took him a moment to realize his knees hurt. And why.

Fortunately, when Oliver got back to his feet, Dig was nice enough not to say anything.

Nevermind that Oliver could still feel his amusement/mild concern, the fact that he kept it to himself justified both Oliver's trust in him and the many zeroes on his paycheck.

"So what do you want to do, sir?" Diggle asked once his employer got his composure back.

Oliver thought it over. Malcolm had given him six months, but the way he saw it, he didn't have a minute to lose. If he intended to keep Thea, then he had to get a ring on Felicity Megan Smoak's finger as soon as possible.

Whatever it took to make that happen.

He looked at her picture again.

And smiled.

"Ms. Smoak?"

Felicity jumped, her gaze shooting up toward the doorway as, oh, boy, as her Match, Oliver Queen, walked in.

Ohhhh, boy. Oh, boyyyyyy...

Abruptly, she put down the red pen she found herself chewing on, as if surprised it was still in her hand.

It didn't help that the blue of his suit matched his eyes. WHY did she have to Matched with someone so attractive? And be so put together while she had taken off her heels under her desk?

True, he couldn't see them, but the fact remained that she couldn't put them back on without being too obvious.

"Hi," he said, as if nothing untoward had happened. "I'm Oliver Queen."

"Of course!" she proclaimed, rushing to sit up straight. As if by sheer force of will she could make this meeting about anything other than what she dreaded it to be. As discretely as possible, she shifted her feet to slip them back into her shoes. "I know who you are, you're Mr. Queen."

He seemed genuinely amused. Not the reaction she expected. "No, Mr. Queen was my father."

"Yeah, but he's dead." She watched him blink. "I mean, he drowned." She watched his eyebrow go up. "But you didn't. Which means you can come down to the IT department, and listen to me babble..." Another eye blink, but this one with a slight smile. "Which will end. In three, two, one."

Oh, if a hole could open up beneath her right now...

She was surprised to see him smile at that. But when he began speaking once more, her heart sank.

"I think we both know why I'm here," he said. He reached into the pocket of his suit coat, producing his Stone from it's depths.

He placed it in front of her, and she felt her mouth dry up when she saw the surface of it.

There it was. Literally set in stone. Her own name. Felicity Megan Smoak.

Intellectually, she knew it would be on there. Just like his was on hers.

The shock at actually seeing it was still palpable.

"Clearly," he told her, "we have much to discuss."

That was the very LAST thing she wanted to do. "Actually," she said, "I was thinking that maybe we could just... ignore them?" Her suggestion sounded weak to her own ears.

He looked startled. "Ignore them?"

Obviously not a concept that ever occurred to him. Maybe he wasn't the TYPICAL rich person, but he wasn't saying 'no,' yet, so maybe she still had a chance to salvage the situation.

"It could just get... complicated," she said, trying to find a straw to grasp. "I mean, I work for you, so there's a conflict of interest right there. And also there's the fact that I'm trying to career-build. And you obviously have so much on your plate right now yourself that adding a courtship would just make things harder. So... wouldn't it be easier to simply forget this happened?"

Okay, not the best argument she could come up with, but it was better than nothing.

Her Match looked down for a minute, as if he were thinking. During that minute, she dared hope he would go along with her idea.

When he looked up and she saw his expression of regret, she felt her stomach drop.

Oh, no.

"I'm afraid I can't agree with that, Ms. Smoak. There are many things we need to discuss. You are right about one thing, though," He leaned down, scooping up the incriminating Stone off of her desk. "Here and now is not the appropriate place or time. I'll come find you after work."

Felicity thought fast. She could still work this to her advantage. She was ahead on all of her projects, so she could get away with going home early.

Well, earlier. She tended to burn the midnight oil.

She nodded, eager for the encounter to be over. "Okay. See you after work." She never actually said what DAY, so it wasn't REALLY a lie...

Wearing a small smile, he nodded.

She watched tensely as he left her office.

She hoped he didn't hear her sigh of relief.

Felicity hurried back to her office. The 'one last thing' she wanted to take care of before she left had mysteriously morphed into five at the last minute, and she was late for her self-imposed departure.

There was a certain appointment she most definitely wanted to miss tonight.

It was simpler that way.

Really.

She got back to her office... and found her boss, her Match, sitting behind her desk.

He really shouldn't look that delectable. Especially when he was about to turn her world upside down.

His jacket was folded over the back of the chair, and his sleeves were rolled up to reveal his muscular forearms. His tie was off, and the first couple buttons of his shirt were flicked open. He had obviously made himself at home as he waited for her to come back.

Belatedly, she remembered her purse under the desk, and knew why he was so certain she would be back.

Still, she had trouble getting her voice to work. She first had to remember how to breathe. Her shock was that overwhelming. "Mr. Queen...!"

"It's time for our talk," he reminded, levering himself out of her chair. He picked up his jacket, draping it over his arm, his tie hanging out of one of the pockets. He came around the desk to stand directly in front of her. "And given that we are Matched, and it's after work, it would be appropriate for us to be on a first-name basis. Please, call me Oliver." He put out his hand.

It didn't sound like a request.

She took his hand, feeling an electric charge at the contact between them. "Felicity."

He smiled.

That expression should be registered as a lethal weapon.

What it did to her insides certainly couldn't be considered healthy.

She swallowed.

Oh, boy.