A/N: And we're back! Speaking of back, Hank has returned, sporting a new tattoo (just how many unicorn tattoos does one monkey need anyways?!) and what I suspect is a pretty decent dose of the clap. Hank claims his man monkey bits are meant to itch and ooze like that but I have my doubts. So, our little family is complete again… not that I think Alfonoso Del Vecchio missed Hank that much. There isn't a lot of love lost between those two but that story is too long to tell today – another time perhaps.

Now, this chapter, basically I got creative and gave Felicity a bit of a back story. Of course, they're finally going to get around to it in Season 3 and I know it'll annoy me when my back story doesn't match up with Felicity's on the show but oh well, that is how my cookie crumbles I suppose. I'm going to do that a bit with a few of the characters in this story, back filling things about their lives. I like to get to know characters better and sometimes you just have to do these things yourself if the show is too slow getting around to it. ;)

So, here we go…

CHAPTER SEVEN

Felicity loaded the latest sample of Oliver's blood into the analyzer and pressed start. She snuck a glance over at Oliver as he sat talking to Diggle, an IV line in his arm, rehydrating him. It was amazing. Twenty minutes ago she'd returned to the lair to find Oliver basically at death's door. It had been terrifying. Now, he was walking around like nothing had happened. Felicity didn't even want to think what might have happened to Oliver if she hadn't been already pulling up at the Foundry when Diggle had rung. She'd thought the worst of it was over when she'd got Oliver breathing again last night but now Felicity was starting to realize that they were possibly at the beginning of a very tough road. The whole thing boggled her mind. Oliver Queen needed her around to survive. It sounded crazy to even think those words. If Felicity was being honest with herself, she'd have to admit she'd had those occasional day dreams where she was the center of Oliver's world, wondering what it would be like. To be confronted with a literal interpretation of those words was something else entirely however.

"IV is through," announced Diggle, removing the needle from Oliver's arm.

Felicity turned in her chair and looked at Oliver. "How are you feeling?"

"Great," said Oliver easily. "Never better." He stood up and pressed a piece of gauze to his arm, bending his elbow up to keep it in place.

"If only that were true," said Diggle wryly. "Okay, game plan time. We need to figure this out."

"We need to find this Lyla Coates," said Oliver determinedly. "If there is some kind of antidote or neutralizing agent for this toxin, then she'll be the one who has it." He shook his head. "The whole project seems pointless to me anyways. What's the benefit of having soldiers that have to keep their handlers in view at all times or their hearts will explode?"

Felicity wrinkled her nose. "That wasn't the intent of the project. From Coates' notes, she was aiming for regulating how long the soldiers could survive without having negative effects of being apart from their leader. It looked like she was looking for it to be around a day or two from her trials but ultimately being able to control exactly how long they wanted it to be for." She grimaced. "Unfortunately when you were gassed there wasn't even an attempt to regulate how much of the XR-320 was given to you. That's why your tolerance times are so much less than what would be the practicably ideal." Felicity folded her arms in front of herself. "Not that any of this could be called ideal."

"I see your point," conceded Oliver.

"And I might have a lead on finding our black widow," said Felicity. "When I went out before, I went to see my arm's dealer guy, Eugene."

Oliver's jaw hardened. "I hate it so much that you have an arm's dealer guy."

"Yeah, well, just be thankful I do because he'd heard whispers that this Forbes-Hamilton guy was in town. He's staying at the Plaza, doing some business from his hotel room under the name of Heston Eastwood." She rolled her eyes. "I guess he's a big movie buff for gunslingers, or at least, actors who've played gunslingers. Pretty hokey if you ask me."

"I guess we know who is getting a visit from the Hood tonight," said Oliver grimly.

"Yeah, no one," said Diggle. He fixed Oliver with a determined look. "If you go anywhere, you have to take Felicity with you."

Felicity raised her hand. "Can we not swing through a window or anything and make the big entrance?" she requested. "I'm not a fan and I never stick the landings."

"I wouldn't take you with me, Felicity," said Oliver sharply. "It would take me less than an hour to scare the crap out of this guy and get the information we need. That's doable."

"For now," countered Diggle. "We don't know the speed this thing might progress at. It may have peaked or it may be only going to get worse. We just don't know. We can't take that kind of risk. And besides, you've got a birthday party to go to."

Oliver made a frustrated grunt of acknowledgement.

"I'll go and pay Mr. Eastwood a visit and suggest it'd be in his best interests to help us out as much as he can." Diggle looked between the two of them. "You two go to that birthday party and try and have some fun. Wish Thea a happy birthday for me."

Oliver looked like he wanted to argue but there really wasn't any point. "I'm going for a shower," he said tersely and then seemed to make a concentrated effort to take the annoyance out of his voice as he addressed Felicity. "I'll get dress for the party and then I can take you back to your place to do the same, okay?" He glanced at his watch. "We've only got a couple of hours before it starts."

"Okay," said Felicity as she watched him head off to the shower room.

"How are you feeling?" asked Diggle solicitously after Oliver was gone.

"Oh you know, another day on the job at Team Arrow," said Felicity with feigned brightness. "What isn't there to love?"

Diggle tilted his head and gave her a pointed look. "Felicity."

She groaned. "I've roofied Oliver Queen, Dig. How am I meant to feel about that?"

"You haven't roofied him," protested Diggle. He grimaced. "Not intentionally, anyways. This isn't your fault."

"If we hadn't been out there testing the exoskeleton Oliver would never have ended up inside that warehouse," said Felicity unhappily.

"There is no point in going down that road," said Diggle firmly. "If Oliver hadn't appointed himself as protector of Starling City, this wouldn't have happened either."

Felicity sat back in her seat and gnawed on her thumbnail. "This is bad, isn't it?"

"It's not great," conceded Diggle.

"Oliver can't live without me," said Felicity unsteadily, "but not in the amazing, romantic way. It's more in the horrifying, permanently psychologically damaging way." Felicity rolled her eyes. "That is so my luck." She bit her bottom lip. "Diggle, I'm really scared for him. We don't know where this is going but there are a lot of dead test subjects associated with Project Sirène and that Marine Oliver had to kill wasn't exactly a poster child for all of this having a happy ending."

Diggle put a hand on her shoulder. "Felicity, we're going to figure this out. We just have to work as a team on this one and we're not too bad at that."

Felicity drew in a fortifying breath. "No, we're not," she said, forcing herself not to think of every horrible scenario which could play out before this was over. "Oliver is doing fine right now—"

"And he'll continue to be fine if you're nearby," agreed Diggle. "You just have to keep him calm and away from stressful situations and then we can work on finding a cure for this thing."

Felicity put a brave smile on her face. "I can do that." She had to. Felicity really didn't want to see Oliver in the state he'd been in when she'd first returned to the lair ever again.

"Just be yourself around him," encouraged Diggle. "If Oliver knows you're stressed that will stress him too."

"Just me and the cucumber, doing our thing." She pulled a face. "I mean being cool," said Felicity hastily. "I don't do anything else with cucumbers… well, I eat them but you know, nothing else weird with them."

Diggle smiled. "You can stop talking now, Felicity."

She grabbed his hand. "Thank you," she said in relief.

"You've got this," said Diggle encouragingly. "I'm going to track down this Forbes-Hamilton guy and then we'll get him to tell us where Professor Coates is. She's our best chance to find some kind of antidote for Oliver's poisoning."

"And in the meantime I get to go to a party," said Felicity, valiantly keeping a smile on her face. "Where's the downside in that?" She really hoped there wasn't going to be an answer to that question at some point that evening.

#

Oliver watched Felicity gathered up her clothes for the evening as he stood in her bedroom with her.

"I won't be long," she told him as she hurried on through to the bathroom.

"No rush," said Oliver as he watched her close the door behind her. He felt a little flutter of anxiety as the door created a barrier between them but he pushed it to one side, ignoring the sensation. In an effort to distract himself, Oliver started to look around Felicity's bedroom as he heard the shower begin to run. Things had been a little strained in the car ride over to her house and Oliver didn't want that. He knew it was a weird situation and they were dealing the best they could. Oliver just wanted things to go back to normal between them but he'd be lying if he said he was afraid that they might have to find a new kind of normal after all of this was over.

Oliver scanned the room, taking in the way Felicity had gathered together eclectic bits and pieces into the small room and organized them with a careless order which seemed so her. He stopped in front of a cork board which had dozens of postcards pinned to it. Oliver looked at each one in turn. "What's with the postcards?" he called out to her.

"My Mom moved us around a lot, looking for work, escaping her latest romantic disaster or skipping out on bills she couldn't afford to pay," called back Felicity over the noise of the shower. "She'd call them adventures but usually is was us packing up everything we owned into the Princess and hitting the road."

"The Princess?"

"Also known as a 1975 Chevrolet. Mom liked to give names to inanimate objects. Not that a car is exactly inanimate I guess. Although the Princess could be temperamental at times and did a good imitation of being inanimate at the most inconvenient times."

Oliver realized he really didn't know much about Felicity's life before he met her. "How old were you?"

"It was basically my life for as long as I could remember until I was eighteen and escaped to college."

Oliver tried to imagine a young Felicity growing up in such a shambolic world. It gave him a fresh level of appreciation about the woman she'd become. She really was remarkable. "And the postcards?"

"We'd always stop at all the different roadside attractions we'd come across and I'd get a postcard. It kind of became this family tradition. Well, our version of it anyways."

Oliver looked at the postcards. "The largest ball of stamps."

"Oh yeah, it was a big ball of stamps alright, that was in Boys Town, Nebraska."

"The giant horseshoe crab, Blanchester, Ohio."

"I was only little when I saw that one, it totally creeped me out. I had to get my Mom to check under my bed every night for months after that."

Oliver shook his head and smiled. "Lenny, the life-sized chocolate moose, Maine."

"Anatomically correct life-sized chocolate moose," Felicity corrected him. "I learnt a lot that day."

Oliver gave a little laugh. "I bet." He tilted his head to read the next postcard which was pinned on its side, not sure what he was looking at until he read the title. "The world's largest pistachio nut, Alamogordo, New Mexico."

"Oh," said Felicity happily, "that was a great one. We got a flat there and the guy who helped us change the tire bought me a whole big slab of Atomic Hot Chili Pistachio Brittle. I ate so much I was sick."

Oliver shook his head. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to take candy from strangers?"

"I think she was too busy having sex with them to remember," said Felicity candidly.

Oliver looked over towards the closed bathroom door, knowing Felicity would be regretting that comment.

"Not that my Mom was, you know," continued on Felicity hastily. "It's just she got lonely and it couldn't have been easy having sole responsibility of a child. It wasn't her fault."

"It wasn't yours either," countered Oliver.

"I know," said Felicity but she didn't sound completely convinced. "Trevor wasn't such a bad guy though. He stayed with us for a couple of states. That was better than most of the others. It was my birthday the day we met him and he gave me a bottle of pistachio wine with the chocolates. I've still got it, in fact. I'm waiting for a special occasion."

"How old where you?"

"Fourteen."

Oliver made a face. "Fourteen? A grown man is giving a fourteen year old girl alcohol. Are you serious?"

"Don't say it like that. You make it sound creepy," protested Felicity.

"It sounds that way because it is creepy," said Oliver sharply. "Your mother didn't have a problem with a stranger giving her fourteen year old daughter alcohol?"

"I was meant to open it for a special occasion when I got older," said Felicity defensively. "It wasn't weird." She hesitated briefly. "Was it?"

"If I'd caught some grown ass man handing out wine to Thea when she was fourteen I would have punched his lights out and that would have only been the start of it," said Oliver tersely. "I'm not even thrilled when guys do it now."

"I just think Trevor wasn't used to being around kids. He didn't mean any harm and he was just trying to be nice."

"Yeah," said Oliver darkly, "I hear most pedophiles are renowned for being real sweethearts."

"What?"

"Nothing," said Oliver, feeling the need to change the subject. He wished he could have been there for Felicity when she was younger now that he was getting a small glimpse of what her life growing up must have been like. An uncomfortable surge of emotion hit him at the thought of the young and vulnerable Felicity. He wanted to protect her. No, it was more than that, he needed to protect her and hearing about her past only made that need more urgent. Oliver felt his chest tighten, his breathing constrict as the intense protective instincts he had about Felicity threatened to overwhelm him. He drew in a ragged breath, willing himself to calm down. The gas was affecting his emotional equilibrium but he could master this, he'd mastered so many other things by the force of his own will and this was not going to defeat him. Oliver looked around for a change of topic. He picked up the book on Felicity's bedside table. "You're reading 'Jane Eyre'?" Oliver turned the well-worn tome in his hands. "And not for the first time, by the looks of it."

"I read it every six months or so," said Felicity, still taking to him through the door. "It's my favorite book."

Oliver's brow wrinkled as he turned the book back over to look at the cover. "Remind me again, what's it about?"

"Wow, that hugely expensive private education really paid off big time for you, didn't it?" asked Felicity wryly.

"They really didn't offer a curriculum which held my attention at the time," said Oliver dryly.

"Don't tell me, it wasn't so much as the three 'R's' but the three 'P's' – partying, pina coladas and pretty girls."

Oliver half-smiled. "I was more of a beer and scotch drinker around that time but I can't argue with the partying and—"

Felicity chose that moment to walk out of the bathroom. The dress she'd chosen to wear was a dark blue velvet and sleeveless, hugging her figure in a way that made you feel like you were seeing a lot more than you actually were. Felicity's hair was out, framing her face and she'd already done her makeup, understated except for her trademark bright lipstick. Oliver's eyes were immediately drawn to her full lips. "Pretty girls," he rasped, finally finishing his sentence. "Felicity, you look—"

"Is it too much?" fretted Felicity, looking suddenly worried. "Or is it not enough?" She ran her hands down over her hips, smoothing down the material nervously.

"It's perfect," said Oliver without hesitation.

Felicity wrinkled her nose. "I suppose it doesn't matter. No one is going to be looking at me anyways."

Oliver opened his mouth to deny such a claim, knowing that there were going to be a lot of men doing just that tonight and most of them wanting to do a lot more than look. He clenched his jaw, trying to rein in the intense emotions such a thought stirred up in him.

"Except for you, of course," said Felicity blithely, "but you've been chemically induced to do that, so it doesn't really count."

Oliver frowned. "You think that's the only way I'd ever—" He bit off his own question, not sure if telling Felicity he'd found himself looking at her more than once in the past was a good idea. Oliver knew his emotions were becoming increasingly erratic when it came to Felicity but he wasn't sure he could blame it entirely on the gas. "You're very beautiful, Felicity. Any man would be crazy not to want you."

"Although, in your case, you had to be crazy to want me." Felicity screwed up her face. "I mean want to be around me, not want me want me… and not that you're crazy, I'm not saying you're crazy." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Could all passengers on the foot and mouth train please fasten their seatbelts because your Captain is about to make an abrupt course adjustment." Felicity opened her eyes and plastered an over bright smile on her lips. "Jane Eyre is about a plain young orphan who ends up being a governess for the mysterious Mr. Rochester who harbors a dark secret. He ends up falling in love with her because she was not like any society he'd ever known before and she brought him out of the darkness which had become his life."

Felicity had been right, that was an abrupt change of direction in conversation but that was probably a good thing and Oliver went with it. "What happened? I'm guessing they ended up together."

"After a few trials and tribulations, Mr. Rochester revealed his true feelings to Jane and asked her to marry him."

"And they all lived happily ever after," said Oliver a little mockingly. His experiences with love had never been so neat and tidy.

"Not exactly," said Felicity, walking over to the mirror on bare feet and picking up a necklace. "Remember that dark secret I mentioned at the beginning? Well, it kind of came back and bit him in the ass, big time."

"The book sounds pretty depressing," noted Oliver as he watched Felicity pull her hair to one side to put her necklace on. "Why do you love it so much?"

A small smile touched Felicity's lips. "Because Jane was someone no one had ever looked at before but Mr. Rochester, he saw her and he pursued her." She continued to fumble with her necklace. "Every woman wants to be seen, to be noticed."

Oliver watched Felicity as she stood at the mirror and fiddled with the clasp of her necklace. He came up behind her and brushed her hand away. "Here, let me."

Felicity held her hair out of his way. "Thanks. You know, I was thinking."

Oliver half-smiled. "When are you ever not thinking?" He made short work of the tiny clasp but didn't immediately move away from Felicity. Oliver fought back the urge to press his lips against the creamy expanse of flesh that was her neck. That would not have been appropriate at all but Oliver couldn't stop his hand lingering on Felicity's neck, fingers brushing over the soft skin. Their eyes met in the mirror they were standing in front of.

"We probably need a safe word," said Felicity hastily, not commenting on his protracted touches but looking flustered nonetheless.

"Safe word?" repeated Oliver in confusion, forcing himself to let his hand fall by his side.

"We really don't know what kind of effect that gas is going to have on you over time so we probably need some kind of signal in case either one of us feels like things are getting out of control."

"Right," said Oliver slowly, "a safe word. That's smart. Got a word in mind?"

Felicity wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips. "How about… aardvark?"

Oliver's lips quirked. "Aardvark?"

"It's not something that would crop up in normal conversation, so yeah, aardvark."

Oliver nodded. "Sounds good to me, but we won't need it. I'm perfectly in control of myself." The occasional inappropriate impulse aside. None of Professor Coates' reports had indicated sexual overtones in her results with the test subjects fixation on her but then, Oliver doubted that any of the men being experimented on had felt about her the way Oliver felt about Felicity before getting a dose of the XR-320. He really didn't want to think about losing any kind of control in that area. That simply wasn't an option.

Felicity's reflection smiled at him. "I know but just in case. We don't want anything to go wrong and ruin Thea's birthday party." She turned around to face him. "Okay, I'm ready. We'd better get going otherwise Thea will think you're blowing her off."

Oliver stepped back to let Felicity get past him. "Well, we definitely don't want that."

#

Diggle took a sip of his coffee and scanned the foyer of the hotel. He'd been watching people come and go for the last hour while he listened in on the bug he'd planted in Heston Eastwood's aka Algernon Forbes-Hamilton's hotel room via room service. A very British accent came through his ear piece which Diggle assumed was Forbes-Hamilton.

"Who's next on our guest list?"

"Mr. Giovanni DeLuca," came the reply. "He and his associates are with the Westside mafia. He's looking to do some business with you about the latest assault rifles we have coming in."

"I like dealing with the Italians," noted Forbes-Hamilton. "They always know exactly what they want. How long until they're due?"

"Five minutes away, sir."

Diggle figured that would be as good an in as any he was going to get. His gaze went over to the doorway where three men in expensive suits walked into the foyer. Diggle could see immediately they were all carrying guns. They walked through the foyer and headed directly for the elevator. Diggle stood up and followed them. "Hold the elevator, please," he called out as the three men stood in the elevator. One of the men dutifully kept the door open for him and Diggle gave him a pleasant smile as he walked in. "Thank you." He glanced at the number fifteen button which was lit up on the console.

"What floor?" asked one of the men.

"Fourteen," replied Diggle calmly, staring directly ahead as the doors slid shut. Confined spaces either worked for or against you in a fight and Diggle was good enough to know that they were going to work for him in this particular instance…

A/N: Good old, Digg, working it like the legend he is!

And the mystery of the Giant Pistachio is revealed. Lol Probably not worth the wait you get that on big jobs, I guess. Party time next chapter… fun times ahead. :D