A/N: Thank you all again for the wonderful reviews! Your support means the world to me. Also, to whoever asked, I am planning on updating this every Tuesday. And, again, to my awesome beta, westerbeauty, thank you!

Chapter Three

For three days she didn't see him. Dreams of him plagued her, ones that she couldn't explain and that she didn't understand. She'd woken the morning after their last encounter with an image of him burned into her brain. And what an image it was. Just the thought of it was enough to send a chill racing down her spine. The man in her dreams was passionate and fierce and that passion and ferocity had been directed toward her. He had ignited a fire within her that had followed her from her dreams into the waking world. And it was serving as a damned good distraction.

She shook all thought of Oliver from her mind as she swiped a rag across the counter yet again. The afternoon rush was gone and she rested a hip against the bar where she stood next to Rosa.

"Rosa?"

"Hmm?"

"Is there a decent secondhand store in town? I'd like to find a couple of things for the apartment. Just knickknacks and stuff to make it feel more like home."

Rosa beamed at her and Felicity forced herself to smile back at the older woman. There was still something about Rosa that was bothering her. She hadn't mentioned Oliver again, hadn't asked about him since she'd witnessed Felicity getting out of his truck, but there was an odd shift in her attitude that Felicity couldn't identify. Something had shifted but she couldn't quite determine what had caused it.

"Oh, Felicity, I am so happy that you're getting settled in here," the other woman told her, "And, as a matter of fact, there's a great little place on the other side of town. They've got a nice selection and decent prices. I think you'll find plenty of things there you can use."

Felicity bit back a sigh. She had known before Rosa had given her response that there were no stores nearby that would suit her. She'd looked. Repeatedly. But the location of the store meant that she would have to secure a ride, either with Rosa or with Oliver. If he ever chose to come back.

The sudden sounds of a car backfiring outside of the restaurant burst in her ears and Felicity jumped. Rosa clapped a hand over her heart.

"Dios mío!" she exclaimed, "I swear, one day I'll have a heart attack over nothing."

Felicity laughed nervously, her adrenaline suddenly spiked, and cast a weary glance at the window that looked out over the road. She wasn't sure why she'd been so frightened by the noise but something had set her on edge. Her hands were trembling.

Shoving them into her pockets, she turned back to Rosa.

In her startled state, Rosa had pushed her thick black hair away from her face and in doing so, had exposed her right temple. And the tiny white pattern of flesh that was stamped there. It stood out starkly against her olive complexion and Felicity recognized it for what it was almost immediately. It was difficult not to notice given her own status as Marked. That, she realized, and she'd seen the mark Rosa's husband, Jorge.

A curtain of hair suddenly fell and covered the Mark. When their eyes met, Felicity was aware that she'd been caught staring. A flicker of concern shown in Rosa's eyes. It was a feeling that Felicity understood. She had taken to covering her own Mark in the days since discovering what it was. A heavy watch that she'd found at a pawn shop adorned her wrist. The thick metal band concealed the star that bound her to Oliver.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off," Rosa suggested hurriedly, "It's slow enough. I think I can manage."

She nodded, untying her apron even as Rosa continued to talk. She needed to get out of the cantina. She needed to find Oliver. She had yet to find all of the answers that she was looking for and – even though she was sure he wouldn't have them all – she knew he'd be able to help her.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

Rosa responded with a slight wave as one of the men at the nearest table called out to her. Felicity left her apron in the bin beneath the bar and grabbed her satchel.

She crossed the street quickly, practically jogging up the sidewalk to the building that housed the Robertson's salon and her small apartment. She took the stairs two at a time, jamming her key into the lock as soon as she reached the door. Once safely inside, she leaned back against it and closed her eyes. Her heart thundered in her chest.

Rosa and Jorge were Marked.

She hadn't seen it before, hadn't thought anything of the faint scar-like mark on the inside of Jorge's forearm. She had assumed it was a burn scar courtesy of being a line cook for all of the years he'd been in the business. No part of her had assumed it was a Mark. And, she guessed, that was how most people viewed the mark. If they noticed it at all. To anyone who wasn't gifted with a mark of their own, they'd take no notice to those of the people around them. Why would they? While she'd heard murmurings of the Marked over the years, the legends weren't exactly common knowledge. And, as she'd told Oliver, the internet search she'd done hadn't provided much in the way of answers or explanation.

Breathing heavily through her nose in the hopes of getting her heart rate under control, she couldn't help wondering why the realization of another Marked couple had frightened her as much as it did. Rosa and Jorge were no threat to her. They'd welcomed her into their restaurant, into their lives, with open arms. So why couldn't she breathe?

"Felicity?"

Her head slammed into the door at her back as the sound of his voice startled her yet again. The constriction in her chest was a sign that his presence in her apartment had kick-started her heart with a vengeance.

"Holy shit," she gasped, eyes flying open to find him just inches in front of her face, crouched down slightly so that they were at eye level.

"Are you alright?"

Her hands found their way to his chest and she shoved him away. He took a step back, putting enough space between them that she felt she could breathe again, and she glared at him incredulously.

"What the hell are you doing here? And how did you get into my apartment?"

He hesitated and – miraculously – looked contrite. She felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders slightly.

"I'm sorry. I needed to see you. Figured I'd wait here. I knew you wouldn't want me to show up at the bar so I thought –"

"That breaking into my apartment was a better alternative? Damn it, Oliver, what the hell is wrong with you? You're in serious stalker territory here and it's really freaking me out!"

A long moment stretched between them and when one corner of his mouth pulled up in a smirk, she itched to reach out and smack him. But the desire was overpowered by another much more disturbing one. She shook her head in the hopes of clearing the image of him from her mind.

"I should've considered how it would seem to you," he conceded.

"You mean how it would seem to any normal, sane, human being?"

Oliver sighed, "I've already said I'm sorry. Can you just forgive me and move on?"

She huffed in disbelief and stepped around him. She tossed her bag on the small counter that served as her breakfast bar before sinking down onto the sofa in her living room. Oliver followed her into the room, leaning in the doorway. His eyes were steady as he watched her.

"You and I may be … attached because of these stupid Marks, but we're not even friends. You have no right to just come into my home and –"

Her breath caught as she suddenly cast a glance around the room. The sofa, coffee table and entertainment center against the far wall were all new. Pieces that she had never seen before. Certainly things she wouldn't have been able to afford on her own.

"Did you do this?" she asked, her voice shaking.

She wasn't sure if she should be thankful or furious. She settled on overwhelmed.

He nodded, "I did."

She was on her feet then, crossing to open the door to her bedroom. A large sleigh bed sat situated against the far wall and a matching dresser was near the door. The bed was made up with a multitude of pillows and a beautiful grey and yellow patterned quilt. If she had had the money, if she had had any money, she would've purchased everything in the room for herself. He had somehow gotten everything right.

She blinked back the tears that suddenly burned in her eyes.

"Why?" she muttered.

He was beside her, closer than she would normally have been comfortable with, and she felt it when he shrugged.

"You were sleeping on the floor. Living in this cold, empty space."

"I would've found a way to fill it. I've done this before, Oliver. I'm not a charity case. I don't need all of this."

She couldn't bring herself to ask him to take it all back. For the first time in longer than she was willing to admit, she had a place that felt like home.

"It isn't charity, Felicity."

She went back to the sofa and fell into it. Pulling her knees onto the couch, she hugged them to her chest. She suddenly felt incredibly small and fragile. It didn't help that Oliver literally towered over her.

"You bolted the other day."

There was no need to explain what she was referring to and Oliver didn't ask for clarification. Instead he took a seat on the floor across from her, the coffee table between them. With his legs stretched out in front of him, he leaned against the entertainment center at his back.

"I had something I needed to take care of."

Her head canted to the side and she shot him a quizzical look.

"You panicked when I touched you, be honest."

He shrugged, "This isn't any easier for me than it is for you, Felicity. I don't know how to do this."

"Do what?"

"Be your match. You said that the Mark could mean anything, that we couldn't know for sure how it would change us. You want to believe that it doesn't mean that we're destined to be lovers and, given what little I know of you, I understand that. But I don't believe it for a moment. I've been dreaming of you for months. Searching for you my entire life. I think I'm half in love with you already."

Her gaze remained locked on his and she willed herself not to respond to his statement.

Her life had been one big tangle of bad relationships. She was always running, never overstaying her welcome, always fighting to find the life that she wanted. A life in which she was safe and she'd been searching, too. Searching for someone that she could share that life that made her happy.

"You don't know me. You don't know anything about me. How can you be in love with me at all?"

He shrugged, "I can't explain it, Felicity. I just know how I feel."

She ran a hand through her hair and turned to the window. Warm afternoon sun filtered in and she watched the dust particles float through the rays of light. She felt as if she was in a dream. But only partially, like she was in that place between being asleep and awake, that place where she wasn't sure what was real.

She was real. The furniture that decorated her small living space was real. The man across from her, he was real, too. But his love for her? She couldn't be sure. She had never been in love before, had never considered letting herself love any of the boys that she'd dated over the years. Not that there had been many, but she had never felt anything more than a glimmer of affection for any of them. She didn't know what love felt like. She wasn't sure she would know if she was in love with someone even when it happened.

She felt something for Oliver. Something she couldn't explain. It had started the moment she'd heard him laugh. A bubble of warmth had formed in her chest and every time she'd seen him since, it had grown. Her skin tingled when he was near her, her pulse raced, and she felt things that she had never felt for any man before. But did those feelings equate to love? How could she love someone she didn't know?

"Who are you, Oliver?"

He had asked her the same question just days earlier. She had given him honest answers. She had responded without hesitation, something she had been unable to do with most people. She'd been hurt too many times, betrayed more than once, and opening herself up to someone was asking for trouble. But she had known the moment she'd met him that she could trust him. Trust, she knew, wasn't always earned. Sometimes it was instinctual. She knew beyond a doubt that she trusted Oliver, stranger or not.

It was time to see how much he trusted her.

"What do you want to know?"

"Just tell me about yourself."

He crossed his ankles and made himself more comfortable while Felicity eyed him critically.

"My name is Oliver Queen. I was born in Starling City. We left when I was young. Mom, dad, Tommy and me. He's two years older, by the way. I've lived a lot of different places. Kind of a transient but with steady employment. My job requires a lot of… travel."

She waited for him to continue, ignoring the new questions that were ready to jump off of her tongue.

"My parents died a long time ago so it's just Tommy and I now. Not sure what else you want me to tell you."

"You haven't actually told me much of anything."

He sighed, "There isn't much to tell, Felicity."

"You're supposed to be my match. I want to know what I'm getting myself into. You've just given me the basics. I want to know who you are. What kind of man are you? What do you like to do? To read? To eat?"

He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"Are we playing twenty questions?"

She shrugged, "If that's what it takes."

He sat across from her as she slept, watching the way her chest rose and fell steadily. She was stretched out on her stomach, a throw pillow beneath her head, and her unruly blonde hair stirred with every breath that she expelled.

He had been with her for hours. Talking with her, telling her as much as he could safely reveal about himself. They had compared their likes and dislikes, had ventured among a range of topics that were – for the most part – mundane. He had told her of his childhood and his adventures with his brother in the hope that she would do the same. She'd been fascinated with the books that he'd read and the films that he enjoyed. He had given her more than he had given anyone. He had wanted to be honest, to make a connection with her on a deeper level, and when she'd been comfortable enough to allow herself to sleep while he remained in her apartment, he'd realized he'd made progress.

Letting himself out, he stood just outside of her door for a long moment, unwilling to leave right away. But the tell-tale burn that accompanied the surge of his wings told him that he had been called. He pushed off easily and landed a moment later on the roof of Felicity's building. His brother was waiting and he was not alone.

"Sara."

"Hey, Ollie. How's it going?"

He gave a non-committal shrug in response to his friend's question.

"You okay?"

His brother's question caused him to bristle unexpectedly but he nodded.

"Fine. What's going on?"

Sara and Tommy stood opposite him and their eyes where calculating as they examined him. He knew that Tommy would understand his predicament. He didn't want to leave Felicity, not again. He'd just returned from a three day absence. He wanted to be there with her, not off with his brother and their colleagues.

"We've got another assignment."

"Damn."

Sara rolled her eyes and Tommy sighed.

"Can you please choose another term to express your frustration?" his brother questioned, "You'll be struck down one day if you keep that up."

"Just tell me where we're going."

Tommy explained their assignment with practiced ease and he listened with as much patience as he could manage. If things worked out the way that they'd been predicted to, he wouldn't be away for more than a day or two. He would have to accept the reality that this was the life that he led. Being separated from Felicity was inevitable. He didn't want to think about how it would only grow more difficult as they grew closer.

"She isn't your charge, Oliver. You have others to watch over."

He glared at his brother, "I know that."

"Then stop acting like I've just asked you to cut off your arm. We've got a job to do and I need to know that you can do it objectively."

He bit back a retort to Tommy's prodding and pushed off. Sara and Tommy followed suit and as they made their way to their assignment, he said a silent prayer that Felicity would somehow understand.

She sat up in her new bed and stared at the note that she'd discovered propped on her nightstand. His words were short, crisp, and she read them twice before setting the slip of paper aside and climbing from the bed.

She was almost certain she'd fallen asleep on the sofa he'd purchased for her. She had no memory of putting herself in bed and the thought of Oliver doing so caused her face to flush. The feelings that he had stirred in her the evening before still lingered. She'd allowed herself to relax around him, to find comfort in his presence rather than fear it. There had been an immediate trust between them and he had proven to her that she wouldn't regret following her instincts.

Felicity sighed as she padded across the apartment in day-old clothes and flipped on a light in the kitchen. The coffee pot was already brewing and another note of Oliver's was taped to it.

She shook her head, grinning in spite of herself, and made her way into the bathroom.

Emerging fifteen minutes later with a towel wrapped around her torso and her wet hair dripping down her back, she fixed a cup of coffee and took it into her bedroom.

It was still early. She had the morning to herself, not needing to be at the cantina until later that afternoon, and while she and Oliver had spent the evening getting to know each other, there had been very little discussion between them in regards to being Marked. She had been so distracted by the man she was slowly learning about that she hadn't once thought to ask again what he knew of the Marked. But, she decided, it didn't matter. He would come back when he was finished with whatever work emergency had dragged him away and she would have time to ask for more information.

When she was dressed and her hair had been arranged in some semblance of order, she slipped her feet into a pair of well-worn sneakers, slung her bag over her shoulder, and locked up. There was a library a few blocks away, at least a twenty minute walk, and she would have access to a computer there. Her first search for anything about the Marked had produced limited results. The chatroom she'd discovered had proved to be the most informative and she knew that if she could find others like it, she was bound to find more about what she'd been fated for.

The sky overhead was dark with storm clouds as she descended the stairs from her apartment. She pulled the hood of her jacket up to cover her hair, hoping to shield her face should those clouds choose to open up and dump their contents down on her, and headed up the sidewalk in the general direction of the library. She glanced over at the cantina as she passed.

Her steps faltered and she barely caught herself mid-stumble.

The decorations that had adorned the front window of the bar where she worked had been stripped and it had been left bare save for the large 'For Lease' sign propped there. Without looking, she darted across the street until she was standing directly in front of The Little Cantina.Or the space that had once housed it. She tried the front door, unsurprised to find it locked, before peering into the window.

The place was empty.

And not simply devoid of customers, but completely empty. Even the tables, chairs and booths had been removed.

Felicity stumbled back, stunned, and rubbed a hand over her chest where her heart was pounding at an uncomfortable rate.

She'd been inside the restaurant less than twenty-four hours ago. She'd said goodbye to Rosa. There had been customers occupying at least two different tables. And she had seen Rosa's mark. She had recognized it for what it was and at the same time, she had recognized the fear in Rosa's eyes. For some reason, being discovered as Marked had frightened the other woman enough that she and Jorge had abandoned their restaurant, more than likely their home also, and disappeared in the wind.

And Felicity thought she was good at running.

Turning on her heel, she continued on down the sidewalk, her pace quick. She kept her head down as she went, feeling cool moist air whip across her face, and tried to soothe her racing mind and pulse.

What was it about being Marked – and having someone else know it – that had frightened Rosa so much that they'd fled? She'd read enough to know that there were others who considered the Mark dangerous. But the information she'd found hadn't indicated that being discovered would put a Marked pair in harm's way. No one had mentioned keeping the Mark a secret. No one had said why they were so afraid.

She arrived at the library just as the sky roared to life and lightening lit the world around her. She ducked inside, listening for a moment to the howling window and the patter of rain against the windows. The chill of the air-conditioned room caused her to shiver.

"Can I help you?"

The young woman at the small desk smiled up at her and Felicity forced herself to smile in return. She had no reason to let this woman see how disturbed she suddenly was.

"Yes, hi. I'd like to get a library card," she said softly, barely able to hide the tremble in her voice, "And I was wondering if you have computers available. I'd like to do some research online."

The pretty brunette nodded. She was, Felicity realized, close to her age and stature. Even sitting, she could tell the other woman was just as petite as she was.

"Sure thing. Computers are around back, just past the mysteries. You're free to use them anytime," she explained kindly, "And I'll just need an ID to issue you a card."

Felicity dug a state-issued ID from her bag. It was brand new. Another thing she was sure to do each time she relocated. Especially if she moved from state to state. Once she'd secured an address to provide for the ID, she obtained a new one.

"Felicity. What a beautiful name. I'm Thea. Just let me know if you need anything."

She thanked the young librarian and headed off in the direction of the computers. She was grateful to discover that the library was relatively empty but even so, she checked over her shoulder before logging on to the internet and typing a few key phrases into a search engine.

The results of her search this time were much different than when she'd been fumbling around in the dark. She had a base knowledge of the Marked and that seemed to be the key in uncovering more information. The first website she found was buried under pages of ads and pointless blog entries but when she found it, her eyes locked on the first few sentences.

No one knew where it came from. No one could explain to me what all it entailed. But I knew that the Mark will change me. It has changed me in ways I could not have imagined.

I was fourteen when we found each other. He is my soul mate. Scoff all you want, there is no better way to explain it. No simpler way to explain the sudden pull that I felt towards him. A man that I had never met before.A complete who literally held my life in his my life is his life. And no, I promise you, I'm not being dramatic.

Evan died yesterday. I won't live to see the sun rise tomorrow.

Felicity held her breath and she scrolled the page to read the comments below the final entry. The author's last post had been more than six months ago but the last comment had been only days earlier.

My sister was sixteen when she died. Evan was her match. He killed himself and he took her with him. Don't underestimate what it means. What it will do to you.

There were more posts, older, many of them proclaiming similar situations to that of the author. People died because of their marks. They were so tightly bound to their match that when one died, the other did, too. She wondered if it was a compulsion. If, when one have of the pair died, the other felt desperate enough to be with them that they took their own life. But as she continued to read, she realized that that was not the case. In many of the testimonials she read, the second half of the Marked died in an accident or, in some cases, of natural causes. Illnesses that appeared suddenly and took life quickly.

She shut down the page after thirty minutes of reading, her head pounding. Tears burned her eyes.

So many people who had been hurt by their Marks. So many lives that had ended. Not one of the posts that she had read had boasted anything good about the match.

She continued searching and discovered at least two more sites with messages from people who had discovered their Marks but they'd yielded little information of any use. Frustrated, she scrubbed a hand over her face and shut down the computer.

"Did you need help finding something?"

Thea's voice startled her and Felicity sat up abruptly. The librarian stood just inside the small alcove that housed the computer stations.

"I – I'm trying to find information on the Marked," she muttered, a cover story brewing in her head as Thea's eyes widened, "My sister, she was Marked. And she – she died a few months ago. I just want to know what happened to her. I want to know why."

The other woman gasped softly, her expression falling, and she nodded.

"There isn't much to find," she explained, turning and heading off toward the other side of the library.

Felicity followed.

"But you're in luck because I happen to be interested in the subject myself," she called over her shoulder.

She added quickly, "Not because I'm Marked or anything. I've just heard stories, you know? Anyway, there are a couple of books that make reference to the Marked. They were hard to come by and I don't keep them out where anyone can grab them. They're kept in the special collection. I won't even put them in the catalog. But you can certainly look them over."

"Could I – Am I able to check them out? I'd like to take them home. Really delve into the subject matter."

Thea hesitated as they weaved their way through the stacks. She glanced at Felicity with compassion in her eyes and nodded.

"Sure. But I'll need them back as soon as possible. In a day or two, okay?"

"Of course."

They arrived at a door in the far corner of the library. Thea produced a set of keys and unlocked the door. As she flipped on the light and stepped inside, Felicity took a step back. She didn't follow the other woman into the windowless room. Instead, she watched from the doorway as she retrieved a box from a metal shelf along the far wall. She handed the entire box to Felicity.

"There are a few in here that might help you," she explained, "But really, there isn't much."

Felicity nodded, "Thank you, Thea, really. You don't know how much I appreciate this."

The librarian smiled gently and touched Felicity's arm. She tried not to flinch.

"You're welcome. And I'm so sorry about your sister."