Yay - I found time to write again! I honestly miss being able to update more often, but there's not much I can do about it...anyway, here's the next chapter.

Again, I have to thank Maverick41 for the edits and suggestions, especially in this chapter...I kinda borrowed a lot of his ideas for one scene here!

Enjoy =).


Felicity chewed slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on the plate in front of her. She wasn't really hungry, but every second she spent chewing was one more second that she could use to procrastinate the unpleasant conversation that was due to start any second.

"Enjoying the chicken?"

She looked up and met Ray's eyes for a brief second before swallowing. "It's great," she answered without enthusiasm. To be honest, she had been so distracted by her thoughts that she hadn't even noticed that she was eating chicken.

"Felicity," he sighed, "can we just talk about it?"

She bit her lip and pushed the food around her plate with her fork absent-mindedly. "I don't know what to say."

"I just want things to go back to normal with us." Reaching across the table, he gripped her left hand in his and looked earnestly into her eyes. "This whole...silence thing - I don't like it."

"Me neither." This time, she was able to agree honestly. She didn't like how strained things were between them. Everything had been so easy at the start of their relationship. Now, within the short time since she had taken the position at his company, she had changed so much that she didn't even recognize herself. What did that mean for their relationship?

"Just, please, tell me the truth," his eyes begged her, adding their unspoken plea to his words. "Tell me if there's something going on between you and that marketing guy."

"There's nothing." Her voice was flat. She didn't want him to question her any more about Oliver. Not like there was much to tell - he hadn't even done anything to show interest in her! Their whole...whatever it was...was entirely in her head.

"Okay." Ray nodded slowly. She still saw uncertainty in his gaze, but he seemed to accept her refusal. "Okay. Felicity, I trust you. If you say it's nothing, that it's just jealousy, I believe you." He squeezed her hand, then let go so that he could continue eating.

"Thank you," she muttered, feeling a little guilty. There was no way that she deserved his trust, not after the mess she had created for him with the Mortenson theft.

"Okay, I think we need a change of topic," Ray told her, his voice brightening as he leaned forward. "Our anniversary. Next month."

Felicity froze, a bite of salad halfway to her mouth. "Anniversary?"

"Our one year," he told her, a huge smile spreading across his face. "Don't tell me you forgot."

"Of course not," she reassured him, plastering a matching smile on her face. "How could I?" In actuality, it had slipped her mind entirely with everything that had happened recently. "Wow, one year already?"

"Yeah," he sipped his water, then continued. "And, I'm sure that your boss will give you time off to celebrate, if you ask him nicely." He winked at her suggestively.

She laughed, allowing herself to be momentarily distracted by Ray's teasing. "I don't know," she said, pretending to be serious. "I've heard that he's pretty strict."

"It might require some convincing," he agreed. "But I've heard that he has a thing for pretty blondes."

She leaned forward and batted her eyelashes like the vapid heroines in movies always did. "Do you think something like this would work?"

Ray chuckled. "That would definitely do the trick." He leaned forward as well and captured her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. "And that doesn't hurt either," he sighed as she pulled away with a grin.

"I'll be sure to give it a try." She picked up her fork, starting to feel conflicted again. When Ray kissed her like that or teased her playfully, things just felt right. But so many other times…

"Any news on the Mortenson case?" she asked, changing the subject to take her mind off of her current train of thought.

Ray sighed, tensing up, and Felicity immediately regretted her decision to ask. On one hand, she wanted to make sure that nothing could be linked back to her, but on the other hand, she didn't want to ruin the good dynamic they had just barely regained. "We don't have to talk about it," she added hastily, despite her burning curiosity."

"No, it's okay." Ray forced a smile. "Nothing concrete so far. Mortenson, however, is threatening to sue if we don't get his money back to him soon."

"Insurance will take care of that, right?"

"It shouldn't be a problem, except for our reputation. While we wait for all the paperwork to go through, I'll give him some compensation for the situation." Ray sighed heavily, his brow furrowed, making Felicity feel even worse.

"And that'll take care of everything?" she asked hopefully.

"All except for the criminal - Mortenson is determined to put him away for good," Ray added, then shrugged. "I can't really blame him, though."

"Him? You know it's a man?" she asked, then immediately snapped her mouth shut.

Ray shot her a strange look.

"I mean, it could have been a woman," she clarified, feeling her face heat up. Hopefully, Ray wouldn't notice her discomfort. Or that he would assume it was because...well, she had no idea what he would assume, but hopefully not that she was feeling guilty. "After all, he or she only needed computer skills."

"Okaayy," Ray dragged the word out, looking extremely confused.

"I mean, why do you just assume that it was a man?" she stabbed a cherry tomato on her plate with more force than necessary. Seeing the juice fly was slightly satisfying for some reason. "For all you know, I could have done it. I have the skills."

Ray stared at her for a second, then broke into a chuckle. "Thanks, honey. I needed that." He leaned back in his chair, a smile on his face. "The thought of you...stealing! That's the funniest thing I've heard in a while." He laughed again.

"You don't think I could do it?" Felicity knew that she should drop the issue, but between the Arrow telling her that she couldn't help and that she was essentially useless, to her boyfriend not even believing that she could have committed the crime she had practically confessed to, reason was escaping her.

"Nope," Ray answered candidly. "You're not a criminal - you wouldn't have it in you. And I love you for that." He stood up, gesturing to her plate. "You done?"

"Yeah." She said the word with much more hostility than she had intended, but Ray didn't seem to notice. Under her breath, she added, "I bet that the Arrow never had to deal with any of this."

A plate clattered onto the table, startling her as it fell from Ray's limp hand. "The Arrow," he breathed, his eyes lighting up. "Of course! Felicity, you're a genius."

"Wait, what?" she demanded. Now he thinks I'm a genius?

"I have to call the police, right away." Ray reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "They'll want any suggestions I can offer."

"Wait."

Ray paused and looked at her expectantly, fingers still poised to dial.

"I don't think that the Arrow would…" she trailed off as a thought occurred to her. "...be able to hide a crime like this from someone like me. I can help." Originally, her immediate response was to protect the vigilante, but being involved in the investigation would be even better - she could keep the police off both his and her tracks. And maybe, just maybe, she would see the hooded man again. Even the thought of that made her heart beat faster.

"Good idea." Dialing, Ray walked out of the room. She heard his conversation start, then fade as he started to climb the stairs leading to his office.

Sitting there, alone, Felicity felt the full weight of her guilt fall on her. Yes, she had donated the money to those charities, but she had also made Ray's life harder. And technically, what she had done was extremely illegal, no matter her intentions.

She needed someone to talk to. Someone who wouldn't judge her.

She needed to find the Arrow.

"Ollie? What are you doing?"

At the sound of Thea's voice, Oliver hastily swept his crude attempts at making arrowheads into a box he had waiting next to his desk, just in case this exact scenario occurred. "Just a second," he called, throwing a blanket over the top of the incriminating evidence and shoving it under his bed with his foot. Then, he scanned the room quickly to make sure that there were no visible signs of his project before he went to the door and opened it for Thea. "Speedy," he greeted her with a smile.

"I saw the light on," she crossed her arms and glared at him. "Shouldn't you be sleeping? It's a big day tomorrow."

Oliver's smile fell. There was no way she could know what he was planning for tomorrow. He had been so careful to hide any hints of his first big heist from her. "Thea," he started, but she cut him off.

"It's okay to be nervous," she pushed past him and into the room, sitting herself down on the edge of his bed. "I know that this job interview is very important to you."

Oliver let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. "Right. Job interview." In his excitement planning his next job, he had nearly forgotten that he had somehow managed an interview for a ground-level position at Star Inc. despite the fact that he had no college education.

"But," Thea turned to him, worry in her eyes, "going in exhausted isn't going to help your first impression."

Chuckling, Oliver ruffled her hair like he always used to do when she was smaller. "Thanks, Speedy. What would I do without you to mother me?"

Thea just smiled, then stood up. "Promise me you'll go to sleep?"

"I promise." He even meant it - he had done enough tonight that he could go to sleep. Besides, landing that job would really help things financially. He couldn't afford to mess it up, just like Thea had said. "Night, Speedy."

"Night, Ollie."

For the sixth time that night, Oliver questioned whether or not this was a good idea. And, for the sixth time, he decided that it probably wasn't but that he was going to do it anyway.

The doorknob rattled.

He tensed, realizing that it was too late to change his mind now. This was going to happen whether he liked it or not.

The door opened slowly, spilling light from the hallway of the apartment building into the dark room where Oliver stood, dressed in his vigilante gear.

"Close the door," he ordered, aware that his voice would probably surprise her since he was still out of her line of sight.

He heard a sharp intake of breath, and then she stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind her. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, moving towards him in the darkened room, the only light now coming from the moon through the open window.

He ignored her question. He had a mission to complete; that was it. There wasn't time for conversation or anything...anything that could distract him. "The Mortenson money. You took it." He watched her reaction carefully for any sign - a flinch, anything.

To her credit, her only reaction was to cross her arms and meet his gaze. "Why would you say that?" she asked cautiously.

"It wasn't hard to figure out," he growled. "You wanted to help the Glades, you have the skills and the access, and you seem have a ridiculous need to seek out danger…" Without realizing it, he found himself moving so that he was standing only inches from her. No matter how much self-control he tried to have, every time he saw her he felt this magnetic attraction pulling himself to her.

She bit her lip and looked down. "I gave it to charity. Anonymously."

Oliver breathed a sigh that was part frustration, part relief. At least she had gotten rid of the money. "Don't do it again," he warned her, turning to go without seeing how she took his advice.

"Wait." He felt a hand on his arm, stopping him from leaving. "Don't go," she pleaded. "Let me help you help the Glades."

"Remember what I said about dangerous situations?" he commented wryly, not turning around to face her. "I'm dangerous - you want to stay away from me, for your own sake." However, part of him wanted to accept her help. Not that he was currently helping the Glades - his nighttime activities were purely selfish. But maybe, with her, he could change...

"If you meant that, you wouldn't have come here to check on me," she answered quietly. "I'm not scared of you."

"Maybe you should be," he pulled away roughly, angry at how much he wanted to reassure her that he would never hurt her. With one final glance, he added, "And stay away from criminal activities - they have a way of pulling you in."

He jumped out the window without waiting for her response, but he wasn't fast enough to avoid hearing her say, "It's already too late."


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