Chapter Three – Arrow through her Heart [Part I]


Hours Later,
The Foundry, The Glades.


"You do know," Interjected a particularly brutal John, as he ducked one of Oliver's fancy martial arts moves with a simple boxing feint, "- what you are doing," only to insert a quick right jab of his own, "Right?"

Using his forearm to block the jab, Oliver stepped back shifting his weight to his left leg as he let Diggle advance on him, expecting to spar for another minute or two, only to fall flat on his bottom as Diggle in a shockingly unsportsmanlike move swept a foot under him and sent him crashing onto the mat.

Shocking – until he saw the look on Diggle's face, as the other man crouched down mere inches away and in a decided break from character point out succinctly -

"This is Felicity, Oliver. Not one of your crazy ex-girlfriends. Not some casual fling you do and walk away from. Not someone who knows how to play the game. This is Felicity. I don't care how many deals she agrees to or for that matter, what she 'volunteer's' for – hurt her and I will hurt you. And don't think for a second I'll need an arrow to do it."

For a moment, it was almost as if the Foundry walls echoed, with John's voice.

And in that moment, Oliver, was suddenly awash with thoughts of all the many ways this media ploy could possibly go wrong. For a second he almost decided to put a halt to it. Not because of Diggle's threats, but because of what he'd said – this was Felicity – and he knew very well why Diggle was so protective, why she was more vulnerable than most when it came to filling a faux fiancé position with him.

She may have agreed, but D in tenth grade algebra or not, even Oliver wasn't dumb enough not to know that her agreement wasn't purely a show of friendly solidarity. With her it had always been more. Walter had mentioned this was above and beyond, but the truth was she had always gone above and beyond when it came to him. And he knew why. Just as he knew he didn't deserve it – not from her, not when he had nothing to give back.

Did he know what he was doing? He raked a hand through his hand, as he looked over at her empty seat, God he hoped so.


Meanwhile,
Oliver's Room, Queen Mansion.


Without Oliver in it, there was something about Oliver's room that made Felicity feel very uncomfortable.

Her eyes sweeping from brocade curtains of dark green, to the white half-pillar-ish things looming in each corner of the room. The dull blue walls somehow making the heavy wooden bed stand out prominently, and all of a sudden, Felicity felt oddly dwarfed in the massive suite. Somehow she realized, even though the opulent surroundings seemed to fit in with the Oliver Queen image, it didn't seem to fit him. Not the him she knew.

Fidgeting with the black elastic hair band on her wrist, Felicity, found herself turning in a slow circle thrice before she felt like she'd actually finished taking in the room. It was singularly unremarkable – she'd realized with a jolt of disappointment.

Nothing in it was personal - a few globes, a couple of priceless paintings, some of the strangest lamps she had ever seen and a few photo frames and books – but nothing truly personal. Nothing that would make you think it was Oliver's room as opposed to any other billionaire scion, or so she thought, given that she hadn't actually been in any other billionaire scion's room. And now, for some strange reason, she felt herself clutching her coat a little tighter around herself in the already centrally heated room.

Her hands tracing the white stone carved fireplace, she let her thoughts wander back to a particular conversation from the boardroom earlier that day.

It hadn't been news to Felicity that Oliver Queen could be particularly persuasive when he wanted to be. But even so it hadn't taken him very long in that boardroom to convince her and every other person there that there was no way anyone was going to buy into their 'whirlwind' courtship, if they were living halfway across the city from each other. Oliver Queen would never, not have already moved in with the woman he was in love with. Plus, he'd added to her in a hushed undertone, if they couldn't speak at the office about 'their nights' they had to have some other place to do it.

Well not do it. He hadn't said do it. Oh for the love of God wasn't it bad enough she did the double entendre's aloud?

Just then, her eyes fell atop the luggage that had been brought up to the room for her, and she reached out and lugged it over to the massive wooden wardrobe. It was the oddest feeling she realized as she opened his wardrobe and pushed his hangers to a side to be making way for her own additions to it. It was such a couple-y thing to be doing, she realized with a jolt, her fingers skimming down the lines of one of his perfectly starched white dress shirts.

She was being stupid she knew. But there was something about his room that she did not like and it was more than just the fact that it didn't feel like it was his. It wasn't as if she didn't understand why the room was so absent of any trace of his alter-ego, but even so, the real Oliver, the Oliver that had returned from Lian Yu, was so much more than just the Arrow, or this playboy persona and this room seemed to deny all of that and more.


Hours Later,
Queen Mansion


Thea Queen was about as far from naïve as it was possible to be as a Queen.

Which she admitted, having seen her mother murdered in front of her eyes, and Malcom Merlyn as a father wasn't saying much. This wasn't about her though. This was about her though. It was about Ollie.

And Ollie despite everything he'd done and been through – was good and Felicity Smoak made him better.

She hadn't been the only one to see how she constantly built him up. How she'd been there for him, crying for him when he couldn't cry for himself, believing in him when the no one else did, when they had only seen him defined by his past or his bank accounts.

Somehow, Felicity always seemed to be there for Ollie, in all the ways she tried to be there for Roy. In ways her father, her real father, Robert Queen had been there for his family and Walter after him. Oliver needed that. Even if he couldn't see it. Even if he was just doing it to save the company – he needed her.

Her eyes turning to the stairs her brother had just bounded up, Thea felt the shadow of a smile touch tilt her lips.

If nothing else – he needed the hope she embodied. They all did.