Notes: My most sincerest apologies for the time lapse since my last update. I've been sick, had a leaking roof that flooded my kitchen and basement, had to travel for work and most recently, snow falling from my roof took out my cable and internet connection. This winter has been kicking my butt.
Thank you for all the comments and kudos for the last chapter. Without further ado, let's get back to it.
The Arrow characters and universe do not belong to me.
Felicity was awoken to Oliver poking her shoulder. "Your boyfriend is interviewing Helena Bertenelli. It's going to be a series"
Felicity blinked her eyes and tried to focus on the tablet Oliver had propped beside her head. Without her glasses it was just a blur. She groped along the nightstand for her frames, not terribly excited to see whatever had Oliver's New Year off to a grumpy start. "I didn't realize you changed your career to journalism."
Oliver helped her to sit up and thrust the tablet into her lap. "You know what I mean."
Felicity studied the tablet and wished that they could go for a few days without another unwelcome complication. It didn't take more than a sentence to realize what had Oliver so upset. Channel 52 was going to air an interview Vic conducted with Helena over five nights. The article promised that Helena would be revealing secrets about the mob, her thoughts on revenge and vigilantism. "Technically, my perfectly sane ex-boyfriend is interviewing your psycho ex-girlfriend."
"This isn't funny." Oliver's brow was creased. "She could reveal my identity on television."
"Maybe, I can ask Sara to go kick her ass." Felicity fell back against her pillow. Talking about their exes was not how she wanted to spend the first day of the new year.
Oliver flopped onto his side with his head propped up by his bent arm. "Felicity," he growled.
"I don't know what you want me to say. You're the one who told her who you are. You're the one who had sex with her." Felicity sounded angrier than she really was. She'd never been jealous of Helena, mostly because she was several pixels short of a picture. Oliver had been with Helena before Felicity had even joined Oliver's crusade. When Helena resurfaced, Felicity was too busy looking for Walter to worry about who Oliver was sleeping with. Aside from being tied up by Helena, she and Dig had always enjoyed ribbing Oliver about her.
Oliver looked hurt and a little surprised. "Do we need to talk about this?"
"About what?"
"About Helena, Isabel, McKenna, Shado, Sara, Laurel."
"Oh my God, please don't list every woman you ever slept with." Felicity sat up. "I know you have an extensive past, but it will really help me sleep at night if I never think about it."
"I don't want this, my past, to be a problem for us. If we need to talk about it, let's talk about it."
"Oliver, please." She closed her eyes and hoped when she opened them this conversation would've been a dream. When she opened them again, Oliver was still looking at her. "We were out late. I haven't had my coffee and my brain to mouth filter has yet to engage. What I meant to say was, Helena hasn't outed you yet, not even for a reduced sentence, so I don't think she will now. I think she'll continue to protect you - honor amongst thieves and all that." Felicity scrambled out of bed and hurried to the bathroom, eager to end their conversation.
Oliver followed her and watched her brush her teeth from the doorway. Felicity looked everywhere but at his reflection in the mirror. A soggy towel was on the counter, but there wasn't any sign of steam, which meant he'd been up for hours, waiting for her to wake up so they could talk about Vic and Helena. "Is this about last night?"
Felicity's eyes locked onto his in the mirror. She rinsed her mouth and pulled her hair into a messy ponytail. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. I don't want to fight with you."
"We fight all the time." Oliver said in an attempt to lighten her mood.
"About work. About strategy. About you taking crazy chances. Never about personal stuff." Felicity ducked under his arm to return to their bedroom.
"Felicity, we're going to have fights." He was leaning against the wall, his sleep pants slung low across his hips. His hair had dried from his shower and was sticking up in tufts. He looked sexy and that only made her angrier.
"I don't want to fight with you." Felicity disappeared into their walk-in closet and started to open and close drawers at random.
"Does this mean I get my way for the rest of our lives?" Oliver teased. He'd followed her into the closet and seemed to be amused.
This made Felicity pause. It wasn't realistic to think that she could avoid every argument with Oliver. He was pretty infuriating, at times. It probably wasn't very healthy to avoid confrontations either. She looked up at him. "My parents fought all the time. Then he left. I don't want that."
Oliver was immediately in front of her and pulled Felicity into his arms. "Hey, I'm not going to leave if we fight and we aren't your parents or mine, we're us. You have to talk to me when I've done something to upset you. If you keep holding it inside, one day it will be too much and you'll leave me." He kissed the top of her head. "You can tell me anything. I can't promise that I won't ever get mad, but I can promise that I won't ever leave."
"It's not about you. I'm mad at myself." Felicity buried her head against his chest. Oliver pulled back and tilted his head. She gave him a wan smile and held up her thumb and forefinger. "Okay, maybe I'm a little mad at you."
"So, Amy Abbott." Oliver said gently.
Felicity pulled out of his arms and folded her own across her chest. She'd done her research on Amy Abbott after Oliver went to sleep. Amy and Oliver had crossed paths during his brief time at Harvard. While he was majoring in flunking out, she was making a name for herself at the Kennedy School of Government. She graduated with honors and then went on to obtain her MBA at Yale. Upon graduation, she joined the State Department and was now attached to the American Embassy in Moscow. She was in town because the Moscow Ballet was launching their American tour in Starling. If Felicity had hoped to learn that the elegant and graceful brunette was a bimbo, she'd been disheartened to uncover her resume. To top it all off, she was internationally ranked in dressage. The redhead couldn't be any more of a socialite cliché if she tried. Amy Abbott wasn't a woman to be dismissed. She was accomplished and intelligent and Felicity hated her a little bit for it. From her limited observation she knew that the woman never tripped over her tongue and said the wrong thing to the wrong people. Unlike Felicity, Amy belonged at charitable fundraising galas dressed in designer ball gowns while chatting with the social, political and financial elite.
Felicity didn't know how to explain to Oliver how all her of her own accomplishments and self-worth seemed to fly out the window when one of his ex-girlfriends or one of Moira's former lunch companions looked down their noses at her like she just crawled from the sewer. Oliver never made her feel like that, but there were times when her mother's last words to her haunted her from the grave. She was an imposter and everyone seemed to know it but Oliver. Since she moved into the mansion, the tabloids had ramped up their cruelty. They were currently running a ticker of the number of days Oliver had been faithful on the top of the society pages. According to the QC publicists, the tabloids were even offering top dollars to any woman who could provide hard proof that Oliver had cheated on her. So much for maintaining the low profile they promised Captain Lance. All of these thoughts scurried around her head until she finally looked at him. His face was full of love and concern and she knew her fears were unwarranted. So, instead of allowing the demons her mom had been planting in her head since childhood give voice to all of her insecurities, she just said, "Harvard."
Oliver narrowed his eyes like he was trying to will her to say more. "Yes, we dated for a few months at Harvard."
"Did you love her?"
"No. We partied together. I got kicked out of school. That was it." She believed him, but Amy had implied there'd been a lot more to their relationship when she'd introduced herself to Felicity when Oliver had stepped away to speak with an investor. "Felicity, she wasn't a very nice person, but she didn't complain that I was drunk or high all the time or that I had a girlfriend back home. She enjoyed the perks that came with my name and when being Oliver Queen wasn't enough, my bank account more than made up for it. We used one another. It definitely wasn't love. Hell, I don't think either of us even liked one another."
He looked ashamed and Felicity felt terrible for making him talk about it. It was in these moments when his past made him question whether he deserved better than one night stands with random women and she didn't want him to start to question whether he deserved to be happy in a relationship with her. She needed to accept that he had a past and women were going to inevitably come out of the woodwork from time to time. She needed to keep reminding herself that she was the woman he loved now and the rest didn't matter. "Okay."
"Felicity, you know that the tabloids are never going to catch me cheating, right? I'm never going to cheat on you." She looked down at her feet. "Please, look at me and tell me you know that."
She did as he requested. "Yes, I know that. Besides, you don't have the time for an affair."
"Don't. Don't joke, not about this. I'm not going to cheat on you. I wouldn't do that to you or to us. I don't want to be with anyone else. Please." Oliver's voice was heavy with emotion as he lifted her chin.
"I trust you with my life."
"I know, but the real question is, do you trust me with your heart?"
The answer was simple. "Yes."
His shoulders sagged in relief. "I'm sorry if I acted weird last night and made you feel badly. I don't like it when you're reminded of Ollie because you wouldn't have given him the time of day. I did a lot of incredibly stupid and selfish things back then that I can't undo. I wish that I could. I wish I was someone you could be proud of."
She rushed towards him and grabbed his face between her hands to lower his eyes to hers. "I am proud of you. I'm proud of the man you are today. Don't ever doubt that."
"But,"
"I don't care about the rest. I really, really, really, don't. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed and let everything get away from me. I didn't want to spend today like this. I wish we could do this morning over." Oliver's face became determined and she let out a small shriek when he lifted her into his arms in a bridal carry. "Oliver, what are you doing?"
He silently returned them to their bedroom and laid her back on the bed. He pulled the covers up to her chin, removed her ponytail elastic and returned her glasses to the nightstand. He then climbed onto his side of the bed and pulled the covers over himself. He rolled over to face her and ran his hand over her eyes and whispered, "Close your eyes." When she did, he ran a finger down her cheek and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Good morning." She opened her eyes. "Happy New Year, Felicity." He kissed her again.
She couldn't help but smile at him. Everyone saw different sides of him and she knew that she was the only one lucky enough to see all of him. As dangerous and charming as he was, at heart, he was an endearing goofball who did his best to make sure she knew that she was loved. She caressed his face and he kissed her palm. "Happy New Year, Oliver." They kissed slowly knowing that they had a lazy day ahead of them and were in no hurry to get out of bed. He began to nuzzle her neck. "I love you."
He looked at her and smiled. "I love you." She kissed him and they finally started the New Year the way she'd always planned.
VVVVV
Sometimes Felicity wondered when her life had become surreal. It probably started when she found a green-hooded Oliver Queen bleeding out on her backseat from a gunshot he'd received from his own mother. From that moment she could draw a line, albeit a curvy one that double backed on itself, to sitting in the breakfast room eating a leisurely breakfast with Oliver, Thea and Roy. As if living in a home that had something called a breakfast room wasn't crazy enough, they also had a cook who'd prepared them each a breakfast to order. Surreal didn't even come close to describing her life.
Oliver sat next to Felicity lost in whatever report he was reading from the head of QC's finance group. Roy appeared to be playing some type of game on his phone and Thea was reading something on hers. Felicity's tablet lay on the table but she hadn't opened it yet. She sat staring at her dining companions and realized that no one had said a word to one another in fifteen minutes. "Oliver is getting me a pony."
"Mmm." Oliver dropped a hand to her knee and traced a lazy circle.
"That's nice." Thea said without looking up from her phone.
Only Roy looked up and gave her a questioning look. "What are you going to do with a pony?"
Roy's question finally got the Queen siblings to look up from their electronic devices. "Who's getting a pony?" Thea asked.
"Oliver is getting Felicity a pony." Roy informed the siblings.
Oliver grinned and leaned into Felicity. "Is this your way of telling me you'd like some attention?"
"I don't see the point of us all sitting together if we're not going to speak to one another."
Roy leaned across the table and in a stage whisper told Felicity, "I think that rich, repressed, white people aren't supposed to talk to one another while they eat. It interferes with their digestion."
Felicity brought a hand to her mouth to suppress the giggle that was threatening to burst forth at the sight of Oliver's jaw twitching. Thea playfully swatted Roy's arm. "Who's repressed?"
Oliver pointed across the table at Thea and Roy. "Neither of you better answer that question."
Felicity couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, for the sake of Oliver's digestion let's all agree that we're all repressed." Oliver gave her a look and was about to speak when he just shook his head and returned to his report.
"Oh no," Thea gasped and her eyes darted from her phone to Felicity.
"What?" Felicity swallowed heavily as she tentatively reached for her own tablet.
"The good news is that the tabloids aren't calling you a gold digger today." Thea said with false cheer and passed her phone to Roy who gave a worried look to Oliver before he put it down on the table.
Felicity opened her tablet and immediately saw the media alerts. She tapped on the application and gasped when she saw the headline. "Oh, God." The headline was Queen's Smoaking Booty. The article then went on to describe her bottom with adjectives like, round, tight, high, firm, luscious and spankable. The article was accompanied by ten photos of just her bottom in evening gowns, jeans, skirts and work dresses. Readers were being asked to vote on the outfit her butt looked the best in. Against her better judgment she scrolled to the comments section only to find out what the public thought about her butt and what they'd like to do to it. One graphic comment had her wishing she could scrub the image from her brain.
"What?" Oliver asked, a line of concern furrowing his brow.
"It's noth..." Felicity didn't finish her sentence because Oliver tilted his head and pointed a finger at her. "Oliver, really, it's just the tabloids looking for a new angle to sell papers."
Roy snorted. "New angle."
"Really?" Felicity and Thea asked him at the same time.
Oliver held out his hand for her tablet and she reluctantly placed it into his hand. She braced herself for his inevitable explosion. He read the article with a blank expression on his face. "That one's not you." He pushed the tablet and pointed to a picture of an orange dress.
"You know my butt that well that you're certain that isn't mine?" Felicity asked as she stared at the picture. "I'm not sure it isn't mine."
Oliver raised a brow at her. "Felicity, do you own that dress? I don't remember ever seeing you in it."
He was right. She didn't own the dress in the photo. "That's not my butt."
"Good, I'll call our publicist and tell her to demand they print a retraction and pull down the page since they don't even have the integrity to publish pictures of you." Oliver pulled out his cell.
Felicity placed her hand on his. "Oliver, I don't think that's a good idea. If we make a big deal of it, they'll only have incentive to do more pictures of my butt or breasts or legs. Let them have their fun." She squeezed his hand and tried to make him smile. She returned her attention to the article. "I will be really pissed if the picture of the orange dress wins."
"Felicity," he rubbed his hands over his head, "I hate this."
She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I know and I love you for it. Besides, Thea is right. Stories about my butt are better than the one's about me being a gold digger." Oliver dropped his head and she could tell he wasn't entirely convinced.
VVVVV
The sound of the guys sparring had become white noise to Felicity as she went through the results of her search on Kechel Construction's servers. The Question had been right, the hack of their computers and the surveillance of their offices and conference rooms hadn't provided any evidence. She'd also run into a dead end with the offshore accounts of the Starling City public officials. It appears that the deposits were all made in cash in the Cayman Islands. She'd attempted to hack into the bank's security cameras, but the bank didn't store any footage for more than a week. She was starting to look into flight manifests to see if she could find any passengers that arrived in the Cayman's each time there was a deposit in one of the accounts. So far, it had been an exercise in futility. For all she knew, the person making the deposits lived in the Cayman's and was just shifting money around on Oscar's behalf. She was frustrated and so were the guys. They couldn't take out the bad guys if she couldn't identify them. Her computer beeped. "Damn it." She pushed herself away from her desk in anger.
The quiet in the lair had her turning in her chair. All three of the guys were standing on the mats looking at her with concern. "Everything okay?" Oliver asked pulling a t-shirt on as he approached her.
"No. Everything's not okay. I can't find anyone connected the Bratva on the flights to the Cayman's, but I did find six guys who owe thousands in child support. One guess what they're doing."
"Any of them from Starling?" Roy asked. "I'm up for threatening deadbeat dads."
Felicity smiled at Roy. "Unfortunately, no." She couldn't send Roy to threaten them, but it didn't mean she couldn't send details to the mothers of their children.
"Why don't we all call it a night?" Oliver squeezed her shoulders. "We'll come back to it tomorrow and figure out a different way to approach the problem."
"I'd like to stop thinking about this, at least for tonight." Felicity said with a smile.
"No complaints here. I'm going home so I can eat some animal protein for dinner at least once this month." Dig winked at Felicity with a wide grin on his face and she couldn't help but laugh.
Roy and Dig moved to go change leaving Felicity and Oliver alone. He gently pulled her to her feet and pulled her into a sweaty embrace. "I'm going to change and then I have a few ideas of how I can make you forget all about bank accounts and flight manifests." He gave her a promise filled kiss and pulled away. As she watched him walk to the back of the lair, she was pretty sure she couldn't remember her own birthday.
Roy was the first to appear dressed in his street clothes. "Night, Felicity."
She spun in her chair to face him. She gestured for him to come to her and spoke in a low voice. "I need to talk to you about something."
Roy shrugged and approached her, pulling Dig's chair over. As he dropped into the chair he asked, "What's going on?"
She reached into her bag and pulled out a large envelope and handed it to him. "Congratulations."
Roy looked at the return address on the envelope and gave her a questioning look. He pulled out the contents of the envelope and began to read. "Felicity, why do I have an acceptance letter and an offer for a full scholarship to SCU? I'm pretty sure I didn't apply."
"I might have done that for you." She said apologetically. "I also wrote you a pretty awesome letter of recommendation."
Roy shook his head. "I never graduated from high school. How did I get into college?"
Felicity couldn't tell if he was angry or amused. "I might've hacked into the Starling City Board of Education and updated your transcripts." She pulled another item out of her bag and handed him his high school diploma. "Don't worry, I didn't make you a nerd. You were a solid C+/B- student."
Roy looked at the diploma. "You made me a fake diploma?"
"No, of course not. I wrote to the Board of Education and told them you lost it during the earthquake. They reissued one for you."
Roy rubbed his eyes. "So, you changed my transcripts to make it look like I graduated from high school so I could go to college." He watched her nod. "I don't want to go to college."
She leaned forward and grabbed his hands. "I know, but hear me out. I have three reasons why I think you should go to college. First, you and I weren't born with silver spoons in our mouths. We've had to fight for everything we have. We might not be living in a mansion with a Queen forever. We have to be able to take care of ourselves."
"Felicity, I've always taken care of myself. I've always made do." Roy's voice was soft but it was laced with anger.
"I know, but you shouldn't have to make do. You're smart and capable, besides you can't be Arsenal and a petty thief." Roy opened his mouth as if to speak, but snapped it shut. Felicity continued. "Second, being a vigilante is a lot like being a professional athlete. You have a short window before you're body starts to give out. Oliver is a knee injury away from total knee replacement and he's only twenty nine. Unlike professional athletes, you aren't paid for your vigilante work. Whatever job you plan on supporting yourself with better not require manual labor. Third, I need you to think about majoring in computer science."
Roy sat up straight with her request. "Computer science?"
"Roy, Oliver has you and Dig to back him up on the street. I don't have a back-up. I love Oliver and Dig, but they are lost when it comes to my system. You have some basic talent and I think it can be nurtured. If something were to happen to me, I don't have a back-up. You guys need someone who can do what I do so you stay safe and out of jail."
Roy leaned forward and took her hands. "Is something wrong? Are you okay?"
She smiled warmly at him. "I'm fine, I promise. It would just make me feel better to know that we have a back-up plan for my role."
Roy sighed. "I don't think I can do this. I was never any good at school."
"I know you can do it, plus you'll have me to help you with your homework." Felicity relaxed when Roy grinned at her. "If you don't like computer science, you can pick whatever major you want. I just need you to promise that you'll work with me on the systems a few hours a week."
"Okay." Roy said.
Felicity clapped her hands. "Yay. Oliver can have your body, but your mind is mine." The smirk on Roy's face had her slapping her own forehead. "You know what I mean."
"Fortunately, I'm fluent in Smoak." He stood up and rolled Dig's chair back. "Thea's waiting."
"Classes start Monday." She called to his retreating back. He raised a hand in silent acknowledgment. Felicity sank back into her chair with a sigh of relief. Having system redundancies in place always made her feel better.
VVVVV
"Felicity, talk me in." Roy was almost inaudible over the roar of his motorcycle.
Felicity watched Roy zoom by the traffic camera she had up on her monitor. They were in pursuit of an eighteen-wheeler containing narcotics bound for Oscar's Vegas territory. Oscar had neglected to inform Oliver, as agreed to in their arrangement, that there was even going to be a shipment. They only knew about the drugs because Roy busted some guy on patrol the night before who thought he'd be able to convince Arsenal to let him go in exchange for the information about the Bratva shipment. Roy and Dig were now scrambling because the narcotics had departed an hour earlier than expected. "Arsenal, turn east on 16th. You should be able to intercept before they reach Kent."
"How's everything going?" Felicity's eyes darted to her other monitor displaying a security feed. She smiled as she watched a very bored Oliver survey the hotel ballroom he was going to be spending the evening in. He was making a public appearance at a fundraiser for a mayoral candidate who was running for the special election in the spring. They decided it would be for the best if Oliver was seen in public while the Arrow took down another Bratva shipment.
By his body language, she could tell that he was contemplating sneaking out. "Oliver, you're supposed to be mingling and getting photographed," she chided him. Her attention returned to her other monitor and she muted her connection with Oliver. "Damn it. Dig, change of plans. Head to the River Street bridge, I'm going to divert them."
"Copy that." Dig replied evenly.
"What's going on Blondie?"
"Accident at Kent and 5th. Target is now heading west. I need you to head north on Market." Felicity opened her connection with Starling's public transportation network and lowered the train crossing the truck was fast approaching. She grinned as she watched the truck diverted to the north on Market. Her attention shifted to the River Street Bridge that led out of Starling. Once the truck left the city, her guys wouldn't be able to pursue. The arrangement they shared with the SCPD didn't extend outside the city limits. If they wanted to stop the shipment, they needed to do it before the truck crossed the bridge. She eyed her team's progress by their trackers and was worried that the truck had too much of a head start on the guys. She used her hack of the city's traffic network to change the upcoming stop light to red in attempt to give Roy and Dig a chance to catch up. She watched in disbelief as the truck plowed through the intersection, causing three cars to collide. "Damn it," she said again as she picked up her burner to call in the accident. If these guys weren't going to obey traffic signals, she was going to make sure all the lights stayed green.
Felicity weighed their options as she watched her team's progress. She switched her camera view to the River Street bridge. Traffic was light and flowing easily. She wanted to clear a straight path for the truck in order to minimize collateral damage when the guys finally caught up. The River Street bridge was down by the marina and provided stunning views of the city and the bay. The bridge sat low to the water and gave the illusion that you were driving across the waves. A crazy idea struck her, but she wasn't sure if she had enough time to execute. The bridge's low profile across the mouth of the bay necessitated it to be a drawbridge, a feature that was about to become decidedly handy.
Felicity began to type furiously as she turned all the traffic signals approaching the bridge red. She changed the traffic alert signs to display, River Street Bridge Closed. Detour to 52nd Street Bridge. She then began the process of raising the bridge. She held her breath as she willed the last of the cars across the bridge. As the last car cleared the center, the bridge began to slowly rise. Satisfied that her detour was working, she shut off the traffic alerts and turned all lights in the truck's path green. They would have the truck trapped in Starling at the base of the bridge. Oscar was going to be denied another delivery of drugs. "Change in plans. The River Street bridge is up, we just need to cut off their escape."
Dig chuckled. "I take it you're responsible for that."
"I see them." Roy accelerated his bike.
"Me too." Dig's tracker indicated his van was about to intercept the truck on the bridge's entrance ramp.
Before she could respond, Felicity watched as the truck appeared to accelerate. She rose out of her chair as she realized the driver was going to attempt to jump the bridge. The driver was clearly an idiot who didn't understand the laws of physics if he actually thought he was going to be able to clear the ever widening gap. "Stop," she shouted. "Stay clear of the bridge." She knew without checking that Roy and Dig would stop as soon as she told them to. They trusted her to be their eyes and never questioned the instructions she provided over the comms. She watched in disbelief as just the cab of the truck dropped over the top of the bridge. Felicity dropped in her chair and attempted to stop the bridge's ascent. Before she could finish typing the command, gravity and the height of the bridge took everything out of her hands. The cab of the truck rose high enough to once again be aligned with the trailer. It was no longer stuck on the lip of the bridge and the truck flipped backwards and began to roll end over end down the slope of the bridge. "Dig," she said in a whisper.
"We're on it. Call it in." Dig said. When she didn't respond, he tried again. "Felicity, you need to call it in."
"Copy." As if in a trance she called 911 and informed them of the accident and the presence of the Arrow and Arsenal on site. She watched Dig, dressed in his own Arrow suit, and Arsenal slowly circle the wreckage of the truck. As gasoline began to leak from the truck and onto the surrounding roadway she felt herself flood with fear. "Are they dead?" She asked softly.
"The cab is too heavily damaged to get them out. The fire department will need to cut them out." Roy answered vaguely.
"Are they dead?" She asked forcefully as she tried to keep her mounting hysteria from her voice.
"I don't know, but it looks pretty bad." Dig answered gently.
Felicity turned to the monitor displaying Oliver having a conversation with a small group of older men, probably friends of his father, as he pretended to sip his champagne. She was overwhelmed with the desire to be held in his arms and almost unmuted their connection to tell him to come home. Her hand hesitated over the switch as she realized she'd never be able to keep the fear out of her voice. Oliver had his role to play tonight and so did the rest of the team. "Police and fire are one minute out. There's nothing more you can do. Come home."
"Felic..." Dig started to say, but she tore the comm from her ear and made her way to the bathroom in a daze. She splashed cold water onto her face as she contemplated how her actions might be responsible for the deaths of the Bratva men, not to mention the people in the three cars in the accident at the intersection the truck blew through. Her choices might've resulted in severe injury and loss of life. Whatever happened, was on her. The weight of that realization had her sinking to the bathroom floor. Tonight, she might have become a killer.
Not wanting the guys to find her falling apart, she straightened out her skirt and smoothed out her ponytail and returned to her desk. She breathed a sigh of relief as she skimmed the police report for the three car collision when it revealed no one had been injured. Reluctantly, she returned to looking at the camera feed from the bridge. The truck was surrounded by first responders . A group of firefighters were attempting to open the cab with the jaws of life. Another group of firefighters were spraying a foam onto the leaking gasoline. Four paramedics stood to the side as they waited for the two men trapped in the cab to be accessible. The police were concentrated at the rear of the truck. Two officers used bolt cutters to open the trailer's doors. Felicity leaned forward in her seat as pandemonium erupted on her screen. Even though there wasn't any audio, she could tell the police were shouting. The four paramedics ran to the back of the truck. The emergency services scanner at the end of her desk crackled to life. An officer was asking for additional ambulances. Felicity's fist flew to her mouth to stifle a scream when she saw one of the paramedics emerge from the truck with the limp body of a woman in his arms.
The trailer hadn't been full of drugs as they'd thought. The reason Oscar hadn't told Oliver about this shipment wasn't to cut him out of his fee, but because he was trafficking in humans, people who had just been flung about the inside of a container as the truck rolled.
When Dig and Roy returned to the lair twenty minutes later, they found Felicity watching the police, firefighters and paramedics lining up bodies on the street outside of the truck. So far, twenty-three women had been removed and covered with a sheet on the street. Five women had been taken away by ambulance as were the two men in the cab of the truck. "It wasn't drugs." Felicity said, as if they couldn't see what was being removed from the back of the trailer.
Dig stepped away and out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Oliver answered his cell. His body tensed and his eyes sought out a security camera, looking at her. Roy reached across her and turned off the monitor displaying the bodies. He held out his hand to her. "Let's go get some air."
She shook her head. "I'm fine."
"Felicity." Dig approached her like she was a wounded animal. "It's not your fault."
She gave him a smile that was probably more like a wince. "I know. It's like you and Oliver always say. Sometimes you can do everything right and it still goes wrong."
"We didn't know there were people in the back of that truck. You made the best choices you could with the information you had." Dig placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Right." She rested her cheek against his hand for a moment. "I'm alright, I promise," she lied. "I'm going to head home. Would you call Oliver for me and tell him?" She knew that the moment she heard his voice or saw him she wouldn't be able to keep it together.
"I'll drive you home." Dig said holding up her red coat.
Felicity slipped her arms into her coat."That's okay. I can drive myself."
"I wasn't asking."
Forty five minutes later she was standing under her shower in the mansion. The water was set to as hot as she could tolerate and she stood with her chin tilted into the steady stream. She didn't move when she heard the shower door open nor when Oliver stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle. It wasn't until he tightened his embrace and pulled her back flush against his chest that the dam she'd built up from the moment the first girl was removed from the truck burst. Her body began to shake as she was racked by silent sobs. Oliver spun her so she was facing him. With one arm he held her to his chest and he shut off the water with the other. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest as all the grief and guilt poured out of her. "I killed them," she wailed.
Oliver scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He lowered the blankets on their bed and gently sat her down as he draped a fluffy towel across her shoulders. He knelt in front of her as he dried her off and she continued to sob. He cupped her face between his hands and pulled her forward until her forehead rested against his. "Felicity, you didn't kill those women."
"I raised the bridge."
"Why?"
She hadn't expected a question and it silenced her tears. "Why what?"
"Why did you raise the bridge?" He tilted her chin to look in her eyes.
"To, to stop the truck."
"You thought they'd do the normal thing and stop. You had no way of knowing the driver would do anything so reckless as to try to jump a drawbridge in a tractor trailer. The driver is the one responsible for their deaths, not you."
Felicity leaned forward and rested her head in the crook of his neck. He didn't understand. If she hadn't been trying to be clever or unwilling to allow the truck to get away, those women would be alive. She knew that Oscar had untold horrors planned for them, but as long as they lived there would've been hope. Now they were dead and would never be able to hope for anything again. He was right, she couldn't have predicted the driver's irrational choice, but she had driven him to desperation. "I know that in the eyes of the law I'm as responsible as you are for the deaths of those men you killed when you first started." She felt him tense beneath her fingers, but he remained silent. "I know that I was the one that gave you the information that led you to your targets, but I was always able to tell myself that I hadn't killed anyone. But tonight, those women are all dead because of the choices I made. It doesn't matter that it wasn't my intent, they're as dead as if I shot an arrow through their hearts. I'm a killer." The pained look on his face had her regretting everything she just said. She was a hypocrite and it was unfair to place the entire burden of the Hood's body count on Oliver's shoulders. They liked to joke that Oliver was the muscle and Felicity was the brain of their operation, but that meant she was just as culpable for the deaths of the men he murdered after she joined his team. She'd been lying to herself for all of these years. She'd been a killer long before tonight, but the dead women only just made her realize it.
"No." Oliver said with tears running down his face. "You aren't." He stood and shifted her so he could crawl into the bed beside her. He pulled her against his body and rubbed her back. "Felicity, intent does matter. It was an accident." He placed a kiss to the top of her head. "Sleep."
She pressed her ear against his chest and listened to his heart. She tried matching her breathing to his and to focus on how soothing his hands were on her back. She wanted to believe him that what had happened wasn't her fault, but every time her eyes closed the image of the twenty-three bodies draped in sheets reminded her that they were dead because of her.
Notes: Thank you for reading! Your feedback is always welcome.
Up Next: Oscar makes his presence in Starling known.