A/N: Thanks a million times over, lovelies, for the continued support of this story. It means so much to me when you guys take the time to leave a review, follow, favorite or even just read the words I've thrown at you.

This may or may not be relevant right now, but the year is 2018 - this fact will be very important later on when we get to the more serious time jumps.

Many of you wondered last chapter about the identity of Black Canary, so here's the reveal to sate your curiosity :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow or DC Comics.


Death in the Family

Starling Metro Police Department – August 5, 12:36 AM PST.

Felicity's smile softened as she took in Black Canary. Her once caramel brown hair was bleached blond now and the soft curves that she had were hardened now with lean, toned muscle from extensive training. Beneath her leather jacket she wore a black sleeveless high collared body suit with fingerless gloves on her hands and leather combat boots that went up to her knees on her feet. A thick belt wrapped around her waist completed the look. "She'd be proud of you if she could see you right now," she told her.

Canary's gaze narrowed as she looked between the two siblings. "Who?" she spit out, a gloved hand tightening almost unperceptively around the shaft of her staff.

"Ta-er al-Sahfer—your sister," Felicity answered, noting how a twinge of pain and anger flashed across Canary's features before hardening to a mask of indifference. Interesting, she thought. Maybe she knows the truth then…

"How do you know that name? Are you a part of the League of Assassins?"

Percy scoffed from beside her and shook his head. "Definitely not. Who in their right mind would want to be a part of that eco-terrorist group?" He crossed his arms across his chest and snorted. "Most of them are fucking crazy psychopaths. Not that your sister was one—a psychopath, I mean," he added upon catching the looks on both his sister's and Canary's faces. "I'm going to stop talking now."

Felicity shot him a look of disbelief before turning back to Canary. "We're going about this the wrong way. We know you, but you don't know us. I'm Sacrifice and this is Faith," she said. "And we're not members of the League."

"Then how did you know my sister?" Canary demanded, advancing on her. "How did you know Sara?"

"Sara was my friend. I only knew her for a short time, but she became one of the closest people in my life. Her death was tragic and full of treachery. There was no way she could have escaped what had been done to her," she murmured softly as the memory of that day came rushing back.

Canary's gaze narrowed to slits as she stared at Felicity, suddenly suspicious. "What are you talking about? Her death was an accident."

"She died in my arms, Laurel," she whispered. "I held her in my arms as she died a slow, painful death—and there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening. The only thing I could do was hold her and tell her that she was going to be okay when really we both knew that I was lying." Her gloved fingers clenched tightly into fists at her sides, the anger and pain seizing her as the image of Sara's lifeless body flashed unbidden before her eyes. A hand came up to rest on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. She tensed at the sudden contact, not expecting it, before relaxing and shooting Percy a grateful look.

"No, that's not true. Sara was on a mission for the League in Bangkok. There was a gas leak and the building exploded. She got trapped inside and couldn't get out!" she yelled, voice raising with every word as she stormed across the roof.

Percy grabbed her by the arm and started to tug insistently as Laurel advanced but Felicity stood her ground. "Sacrifice, move!" he hissed. But Felicity just brushed him off, pushing him back a few feet just as Laurel struck out with her bō staff.

Felicity twisted just before Laurel could complete the hit and grabbed the end of the staff with both hands. She drew back, forcing Laurel forward, before jabbing outward. Laurel gasped and stumbled backward as Felicity tore the staff from her grasp. She spun it in her hands, got a good grip, and swept Laurel's legs out from underneath her with the end of the metal pole.

"Sara's last words were for you and your father, Laurel," she told her, lightly pressing the end of the staff to her throat. "She told me to tell you that she loved you, that she wished she could have spent more time with you, despite how angry you were with one another." Felicity's expression hardened and turned grim. "Your sister's death was not an accident."

Anger flashed in Laurel's eyes behind her mask. "They found her body half burned to a crisp. They said it was an accident!"

"And who exactly told you this?" Felicity asked.

"Nyssa!" she snapped. "Nyssa came here and told us after her father had told her. She brought Sara's body with her so that she could be buried in her grave."

Felicity snorted derisively and shook her head. Of course her father told her it was an accident. "She told you a lie that she believed to be the truth. There are two people responsible for her death – one actually killed her and the other covered it up."

"You're lying," Laurel spit, glaring up at her.

The corners of her mouth turned down as she stared down at her. "Why would I lie about something like this?" Felicity pulled back and dropped the staff to the ground at her feet. "I can tell that some part of you didn't believe Nyssa's story because otherwise you wouldn't have felt the need to take on her mantel and become Black Canary, Laurel. When you're ready for the truth, tell Arsenal that you want to meet with me."

She turned to Percy. "Come on," she told him. He nodded and followed her over the ledge of the building. Once they hit the ground they took off running across the city, sticking close to the shadows and alleyways, only stopping for the occasional car or random person before they could be spotted.

"Was that part of the plan back there?" Percy suddenly asked as they slid into the car. "Telling her about her sister?"

Felicity shook her head as she started the engine. "No…but it is now," she sighed.


The Foundry – August 5, 1:16 AM PST.

Oliver paused from sharpening the arrowhead in his hands and turned slightly in the direction of the stairs at the sound of the security door unlocking followed by feet pounding down the metal stairs.

"Ollie!"

He frowned at the slight hitch in her voice and dropped the arrowhead onto the workbench before moving to meet her. "Laurel?" he asked, taking in her pale face and the slightly shell-shocked expression there. "What's wrong?"

Laurel ripped her mask from her face and scrubbed her hands over her eyes. "Where do I start?" She ran a hand through her hair before focusing back on Oliver. "I had just dropped off a criminal with Dad when I saw these two people sitting on top of the building. It was a man and a woman. Both were wearing masks, dressed head to toe in black leather outfits. The man, he looked like he was carrying every knife imaginable, and the woman was carrying a pretty fancy bow that kind of looked like yours."

Her brow furrowed and she stared up at him. "The woman—she knew Sara, Ollie."

Oliver tensed at her words. "What?" he bit out.

"She called Sara by her League name – Ta-er al-Sahfer. And then she claimed that her death wasn't an accident," Laurel whispered painfully, her eyes taking on a faraway look like she was elsewhere.

"Do you think she was telling the truth, Laurel?"

She shrugged helplessly, tears beginning to pool in her green eyes. "I don't know, Ollie." Her hand reached up to rub the column of her throat. "Everything I thought I knew about her death was torn to shreds and now I don't know what to think anymore."

He stared at the broken woman who had taken on her sister's secret identity as a way to cope, to heal, to feel closer to her again. There was nothing he could tell her that would make all of this okay again. But he knew better than to help her with this. Laurel would eventually learn the truth about this on her own, and if she wanted to tell him, he'd be there to listen when she was ready.


Queen Consolidated – August 7, 10:13 AM PST.

The shrill ringing of the phone in his ear shook Roy from his single-minded focus on the spreadsheet in front of him. His eyes shot across the office to glance at the meeting going on in the conference room before answering the call. "Mr. Queen's office, this is Roy speaking. How may I help you?" He waited a beat as the other person spoke. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kord, but Mr. Queen is currently in a meeting." Roy glanced at the time in the corner of his computer monitor. "But I'll be sure to have him call you afterwards, maybe around ten-forty-five…Yes. Okay, then. I'll be sure to tell him. Have a good day, Mr. Kord. Good-bye." He pressed the button on the side of the Bluetooth in his ear to disconnect the call as he added the message to the notepad app on the tablet.

Roy huffed a sigh and turned back to the spreadsheet the R&D department sent up. He was sick and tired of this job. Being Oliver Queen's executive assistant and answering his phones, managing his schedule, and making sure that he knew what was going on was a complete pain in the ass. Especially when reporters and journalists kept calling and trying to get meetings with him about his former EA, his love life, or some other stupid bullshit. But since Oliver ran off all the replacements with his high demands and overall asshole behavior, someone had to step in and take over before he ran the company into the ground after all of that hard work to get it back.

He had no clue how Felicity was able to stand doing this job but he had to give her mad props.

The elevator dinged a few minutes later followed by the clicking of high heels coming toward his desk. Roy spared a glance through the glass surface and saw a pair of vibrant blue high heels.

"Mr. Queen is currently in a meeting, but if you have an appointment, you're welcome to wait," he told the woman without looking away from the screen as he continued to make notes. "If you don't have one I can schedule you in after his one o'clock tomorrow. But if you're another one of those tabloid reporters, I'm going to have to kindly ask you to leave the premises before I call security to escort you from the building."

"Well then it's a good thing I'm not here to see Oliver, Roy," the woman said laughing slightly.

His hand stilled over the keyboard of the tablet and he froze before slowly turning to look up at the woman. Roy balked slightly before leaning forward in his seat and squinting at her. "Felicity?"

The woman smiled. "Hello, Roy."

He sucked in a sharp breath and shot up from his chair. His hand shot out to wrap around her wrist and he dragged her across the office until they stood near the floor to ceiling glass windows.

Felicity shook him off and reached up to pat her curly red hair with one hand while the other smoothed down the skirt of her peach dress. "Be careful. You almost made my wig come flying off," she scolded softly.

Roy stared at her in disbelief. "Me be careful? You're the one who should be careful!" he hissed. "What if somebody recognized you? What if Oliver recognized you?"

"Why do you think I'm dressed like this, Roy?" she asked, sweeping a hand down the length of her body. "Do you think that I would wear a wig if I had to? No one is going to recognize me looking like this."

He sputtered and threw his hands up in the air. "But I recognized you! By the sound of your voice!"

The corner of her brightly colored lips turned upward into a smirk. "Exactly."

"What the hell do you mean exactly?" he hissed mimicking her.

"Roy, do you know what the first thing you forget about a person is?" She crossed her arms and leaned back against the window as he shook his head no. "Their voice, the first you thing you forget is the sound of their voice. Why do you think I wasn't using a modulator the other night?"

He shrugged. "I don't know—I didn't even notice." Roy glanced over his shoulder towards the conference room at Oliver to make sure the man hadn't noticed them standing there. "What are you doing here?"

She glanced around the office and lowered her voice. "I need you to do something for me," she told him.

"Depends," he drawled, eyeing her, "What is it?"

Felicity glanced over his shoulder before focusing back on him. "Keep Oliver and John out of the foundry Friday night," she murmured softly.

Eyebrows shooting up his forehead, Roy stared at her in shock. "How the hell am I supposed to do that? You know him, he's going to get suspicious," he hissed back.

"What if I helped you guys catch Sportsmaster?" she offered without skipping a beat, almost as if she had been anticipating his response. "Percy and I have been tracking him and we think we have a lock on his hideout."

Roy stared at her through narrowed eyes. "We've spent two weeks looking for the guy and you're back for two days and you already found him?" He threw his arms up and made some kind of wild hand gestures at Felicity. "What the hell!" he sputtered. "How? Just—how?"

She shrugged. "It's what we do best other than protect the innocent, Roy. I just spent two months tracking and following an arsonist across Eastern Europe. Percy and I were always just a couple hours behind him. There were even a couple times where we were able to pin him down before he slipped away again." Felicity's eyes darted passed Roy's shoulder before focusing back on his face with a sudden urgency. "Quick—Oliver's meeting is wrapping up. I'll tell you where Sportsmaster is hiding if you say you'll do it."

He weighed his options. On the one hand, if he did what Felicity's asking him to do, he would get the info he needs to catch a crazy former pro-hockey player before he tried to kill more people. But on the other hand, if he did do what she's asking, then he would have to face Oliver's suspicion and no doubt scary-ass interrogation sessions masked as simply asking him about his day.

"Fine, I'll do it, but if it backfires on somebody I reserve the right to tell you I told you so."

August 7, 10:52 AM PST.

Oliver plastered on a congenial smile as he shook hands with the head of the Applied Sciences Department and watched as each person quickly gathered their papers and documents and filed out of the conference room. Once they were all gone, he dropped the smile and gathered up his own paperwork before slowly making his way out of the room himself. The sound of voices speaking in low tones caught his attention and he paused in the doorway. He did a quick sweep of the reception area and spotted Roy standing by the windows with a redheaded woman.

He watched as the woman reached into the purse on her shoulder and pulled out a manila envelope. She said something to Roy that prompted him to nod before handing the envelope to him. They shared a few more words and Oliver's eyebrows flew up his forehead as Roy suddenly launched himself at her and wrapped his arms tight around her shoulders in a hug. The woman stiffened at the sudden contact but returned the hug after a second of hesitation.

Curious, but equally suspicious, Oliver slowly made his way toward them, stopping once he was directly behind Roy. He cleared his throat to announce his presence and chuckled under his breath as the younger man jumped, startled.

"Oliver!"

The woman giggled softly, the sound vaguely familiar to Oliver like it had haunted him in his dreams, drawing his gaze to her face. Pouty lips painted a soft pink were spread into a wide smile and mirth danced in her light blue eyes. He stared at her perhaps a beat too long before forcing himself to turn back to Roy.

"Do you mind introducing me to your friend, Roy?" he asked, raising a brow at him.

Roy's gaze flicked between him and the woman twice, mouth agape as he tried to come up with an answer. "Um, this is…erm," he stuttered before giving the woman a pointed look.

She returned his gaze with an equally pointed look before turning to Oliver with a smile. "Hi, I'm Faye Sanders." Her smile widened slightly and the light in her eyes danced with humor at some private joke that she was only privy to. "And I know who you are—you're Mr. Queen."

Oliver swallowed as a sense of déjà vu washed over him at her words. He blinked and regained his composure before nodding once and forcing a smile. "Yes, yes I am," he agreed, staring at her. "How do you know Roy, Miss Sanders?"

"Well, I'm more of a friend of a friend, Mr. Queen," she told him, glancing at Roy. "I just came to pass a message onto Roy and cajole him into doing a favor for that friend since she couldn't come to ask him herself, unfortunately." A buzzing sound came from her purse and she reached in to pull out her phone. After checking the text message, she returned the phone to her purse and reached out to squeeze Roy's upper arm. "I have to go, but thank you," she told him. He nodded as they shared a significant look that Oliver didn't understand before returning to his desk and dropping the envelope into his messenger bag.

The woman—Faye—turned to him next and gave him a soft smile that seemed just a little sad. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Queen."

He nodded. "You too, Miss Sanders," he returned. She smiled at him again before leaving, throwing one last goodbye to Roy over her shoulder.


The Claddagh – August 7, 12:25 PM PST.

Felicity unclipped her seatbelt and glanced at Percy. He was leaning across the dash, nose almost pressed against the windshield, as he looked at the club across the street from where they were parked.

"This doesn't look like the kind of place the Irish mob would be using as a front, Feliss," he said to her.

"Appearances can be deceiving," she murmured, half listening to him as she watched a black Mercedes pull up in front of the club. The driver stepped out a moment later and walked around to the sidewalk and opened the back door on the passenger side. A man who looked to be no older than thirty, maybe a couple years younger, stepped out of the car to stand beside the driver. He had a head full of vibrant red hair that was more of a burnt orange color, cut short at the sides and long on top, fashioned into some sort of quaff. A couple days of scruff a few shades darker covered his cheeks and chin. She watched as he brushed off and straightened his dark gray suit and pulled the dark shades from his face. He exchanged a few words with the driver before pushing his way into the club. Moments later the Mercedes pulled away from the curb and drove passed them.

Felicity cursed under her breath and angrily ripped the wig from her head, letting her dark brown hair tumble down her back. She opened her mouth to say something, but shook her head and threw the wig onto the small, nonexistent back seat of her brother's Corvette.

From beside her, Percy let out a long sigh. "Judging by your reaction just now, the dude that just walked into the club was Sean Malley, wasn't it?" She nodded stiffly and drummed her fingers against the steering wheel in an angry tattoo. "Who exactly is he? You were vague this morning on the drive to Queen Consolidated."

She thought back to the day she had asked Drew what made him choose to become Hope. "Remember how Drew told us that he used to be caught up in some really bad shit back when he was younger, that he wasn't always a good person, before he met Gabriella and became Hope?" she asked. At his slow nod, she continued. "Well, whether you want to believe it or not, he was a member of the Irish mob back in Boston. He told me that after he witnessed his older brothers beat some kid until he was half dead just because he had looked at them the wrong way, he got the hell away from that life and moved to Gotham." Felicity held up two fingers. "Drew only kept in contact with two people from Boston over the years: his little sister Mary and his best friend Sean."

Percy stared at her skeptically. "And you think that Sean Malley – Drew's best friend – the head of the Starling chapter of the Irish mob – will know where he is." It was more of a statement and less of a question.

She nodded once. "Yes. If anybody knows where the hell Andrew O'Sullivan is, it's him."

"Why would he even tell anyone where he was going – we didn't?"

"We didn't tell anyone because we were together – we had each other – and we caused a lot of trouble—enough for Bruce and the rest of them to track us down. Drew was alone in Ireland and because of whatever or whoever happened to drive him from the country, he would need somebody who would be able to find him just in case," she explained, glancing at her brother. "And I'm willing to bet Auggie did the same thing—that's why we're going to Central City next."

They fell silent after that and Felicity slumped lower in her seat, feeling the last of her anger and irritation drain away. This wasn't going to work. She wasn't going to be able to go in with him in the club now. Her mind swam with possible ways to get in and out of the club without being seen by Malley, but didn't like any of the plans she came up with. Each one allowed for enough time to slip in and install the software for them to have remote access to the security cameras, but not enough for her to learn the layout of the club without getting caught.

The only thing left to do was to come back early tomorrow morning and go in then.

She sighed softly to herself, resigned, and clipped the seatbelt back in place before starting the engine. The Corvette roared to life and she pulled away from the curb, turning in the direction of her house.


Don't forget to ask me questions if you get confused about something or just want to know something. I'll try not to be spoilery, or if you just flat out want to know what I have planned just tell me.

Next up:

- Oliver meets Sacrifice and Faith and starts to perhaps question what he thought he knew

- And we get to see Felicity in action being a BAMF!