...

"FELICITY! FELICITY, OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!"

The arm flops down from Connor's face and he turns to glare at the door of Felicity's apartment. To his left the TV creates white noise. He'd turned it on shortly after returning from Laurel's place, too preoccupied to actually pay attention to what channel he put it on.

He stares at the TV to drown out the incessant knocking, smirking when he realizes it's a medical drama.

"I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!"

Connor rolls his eyes. A quick roll forward and he's standing upright, stretching his back. He's gotten used to a surgeon's hours, waking up at the smallest sound as if someone's life might hang in the balance. To be fair, most times lives were in the balance. He's a trauma surgeon.

In this case, there's what appears to be a drunk man outside Felicity's apartment.

"I can hear the TV! Come on. Talk to me, babe. You and I really had something!"

The clock reads 10pm. In Connor's opinion it's a little early to be booty-call drunk, but he's not exactly one to judge. He picks up his phone and shoots Felicity a text:

Break up with anyone recently?

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby. You meant the world to me. I just didn't know how to tell you. I swear. You're it for me. I promise to do better this time. I love you."

The snort escapes him, bringing an actual smile to his face. Really? A declaration of love?

His phone buzzes and he lifts the phone to stare at the bright screen:

Felicity: Tell Brad to buzz off. Remind him he's the one who broke up with me.

Felicity: Is he really out there?

Felicity: Can you get rid of him before I get back? Really not interested to deal with him rn.

Outside the door Felicity's suitor – Brad – starts singing. It's off-key and slurred, bearing almost no resemblance to the John Legend song at all. The things he does for friends.

Brad stumbles when Tommy whips the door open, falling forward and almost into Connor's chest. He reeks beer and cheap liquor. His eyes are glazed and his smile overly happy as he slowly rights himself. The door takes far more of his weight than Brad's legs do.

"Hello, beatifuuuu...You're not Fliss...Fellll...Fi...Feliss...Flisty..."

"You were doing better when you were shouting," Connor observes, crossing his arms over his chest. "At least then you could say her name."

Brad takes a swig from a bottle in his hand, a bottle wrapped in a paper bag. He frowns at Connor. He's obviously trying to bumble his way through what to do now. "D'you live here?"

"I think it's time for you to go home."

"So, Lisssss...s'not here?"

Connor turns the man around by his shoulders, pointing him back down the hall toward the outside. "You got to give this up, buddy. You broke up with her. She's not interested."

"It wasa mistake," Brad says as he stumbles along. "She wassso pretty...ann I made a misshtake."

"One guy to another, I don't think that's what she'll want to hear. And honestly, I don't think you should say that to her."

"She's the love of my life," Brad declares. "We're meant to be!"

"And I might believe you if you weren't completely shitfaced right now. So why don't I call you a cab? You can go home and sleep it off. Doctor's orders."

He dials the number he knows by heart, the one he used whenever he got stranded during a night out. Sometimes Oliver left him at a club because he hooked up with someone or he was sneaking out of a girl's house at three am. It's a pleasant surprise when a voice answers from the other end with a pleasant:

"Allo?"

"Hey, I'm looking for Mike."

"This is Mike."

"You still driving a cab?"

"Depends who's askin'."

Connor smiles into the phone. "An old friend."

"That would be impossible. Only old friend I had is dead."

"Not as dead as the world thinks, Mike."

"Merlyn? I thought you was as dead. You callin' from beyond the grave now?"

Connor sighs at as Brad empties the content of his stomach into a bush. "I'm going by Rhodes now. And yeah, not as dead as you were lead to believe."

"You in Witness Protection or something?"

He chuckles. "Something like that. Listen, I have someone who needs a ride. 24 Rigby."

"Right. And taking you anywhere?"

Connor sits down on the stoop. "No. But they'll be a huge tip in it for you. He's pretty smashed."

"Be there in 5."

...

"Brad's a real charmer, Smoak."

Felicity groans as she throws her coat and bag on a chair and drops into the couch beside Connor, eyes already closed as if asleep. "Ugh. What did he say this time? I'm assuming the usual nonsense about love."

Connor watches her with a raised eyebrow. "This happens a lot?"

Felicity meets his gaze under heavy eyelids. "We started dating while Oliver was away. When Oliver came back, he got it into his head that I liked him as more than a friend. His jealousy tore us apart. End of story."

"Don't you though?" Connor snorts. At her frown, he elaborates: "Like Oliver?"

Felicity shrugs. "Sure I like him. He's gorgeous, but it's like having a crush on a movie star: completely unattainable. You appreciate from afar. That's it."

"Oliver's an idiot." If he can't see how wonderful Felicity is. Although Connor doubts that Oliver doesn't know how amazing she is. The fact that he hasn't slept with her backs up that fact. If she wasn't important to him, if she didn't matter, Oliver probably would have given in a long time ago. He's seen how often Oliver calls and texts Felicity: he never called Tommy or Laurel that much when he was alive, before or after the Island.

"He's got Sara now. Although, now they're freaking out because some guy from the Island isn't as dead as they thought. Seems like that's the case with a lot of the people that were there."

"In our lives, it seems like there's a lot of people that don't want to stay dead." Tommy doesn't miss the irony of the moment.

Laughter bursts out of Felicity, bringing life to the sleepy room. "When Oliver finds out..."

He grins. "I'll just have to be extra dramatic when I reveal myself."

Felicity's laughter peters out to a mild chuckle. "So how did things go with Laurel?"

Connor sighs. "She was drunk. She probably won't remember most of it in the morning."

"I'm surprised you made it back here."

"She passed out. Besides, that chapter of my life's over." If it wasn't, he'd probably be drinking away his troubles right now. "With any luck, she'll remember enough of our conversation to finally move on."

"And have you?"

It's a fair question. And before tonight – although he would have adamantly declared otherwise – he couldn't admit that Laurel still held a place in his heart. "I think I have."

Felicity shuffles sideways until her head lands on Connor's shoulder and she snuggles into his side. His arm drapes around her shoulders, pulling her closer. He ducks his head to press a kiss to her temple.

"I've been thinking about coming back to the states. I've got to finish my residency and then take the Boards, but after that I'm thinking Chicago would be nice."

She looks up at him. "Chicago?"

"I've got family there," he answers quietly. "My mom was born there. I used to stay with my aunt and uncle when my dad disappeared for months at a time."

"That's good."

Connor snorts. "My uncle's just as bad as my father. Or I used to think so, until my father planned the mass murder of thousands of people."

"You're nothing like him, you know?"

Her blue eyes – wide with trust and love – pour into his soul. He wants to believe her, believe in this wonderful woman who believes in him so whole-heartedly. She's always seen the best in everyone around her and that's enticing.

"You need sleep," he says to avoid the feelings her eyes stir in him. He's had an emotional day and he doesn't want her to get wrapped up in everything he's already feeling. So he pushes her away instead of pulling her closer and makes sure she gets to sleep before slinking back to the couch and falling into a fitful sleep.

And if soulful blue eyes haunt his dreams, Connor's not complaining.