Diggle slid the tabloid across the table to Oliver. The gentle clang of silverware and murmur of voices seemed to stop as Oliver lifted the paper for a closer inspection. The small Italian bistro they'd chosen for lunch was far enough from Queen Consolidated to avoid most employees, and close enough to get back in case of emergency. The way the media persecuted him these days, he anticipated corporate mutiny at any moment. Luckily, the employees in his building seemed immune to the seething media coverage. Oliver did his best to show their work mattered. That they mattered. So far, so good.

Diggle smiled around the edge of his glass. "Looks like you had a nice time Saturday."

"I did."

The article covered Felicity's recognition dinner, sparing few words for her cause and wasting too many on his presence at the event.

Oliver tracked a bead of condensation down the glass of ice water before him. The article's focus should have been on the charity, the cause, or the spokeswoman, not on him. He'd inadvertently stolen Felicity's thunder, and dragged her into the tabloids. The photograph was worse. "Has Felicity seen this yet?"

"Probably. She sees everything before us, remember?"

Oliver slid the cell from inside his jacket pocket. "I should give her a call and ask." He passed Diggle a cursory glance and tapped on his screen.

He scanned the photo once more and his chest tightened. The shot of he and Felicity revealed far more than he dared to share. Looking into the matte black and white picture stole his nerve, and he shoved the phone back into his jacket. Maybe they never needed to talk about this picture. Ever. He didn't even remember the couple standing with them in the shot. Felicity faced the pair at Oliver's side. A wide smile graced her face. Their eyes were tuned to hers, making it a very congenial photograph… but, then there was Oliver standing protectively at her side, closer than a boss should stand to his employee. His rapt attention on her face needed no explanation. The text beneath them could've read, "Oliver Queen is deeply attached to this woman in very complex ways." To his advantage, the photographer had captured them in a rare moment when he'd managed to keep his hands to himself. One set of fingers stuffed into his pocket, the other wrapped around a glass of champagne. Still, there was no denying that face, his too wide smile, or the satisfied look in his eyes. Oliver lifted his attention to Diggle who appraised him from across the crimson tablecloth.

A long shadow covered the paper in Oliver's hands. "Mr. Queen." An enthusiastic Jared stood at the end of their table smiling. "Room for two more?"

Oliver released a choking sound.

Diggle intervened. "Of course. Please, join us." He snagged the paper from Oliver's stunned hand and shoved it behind the drink menu.

Felicity pursed her lips, chin tilted skyward, eyes closed.

Jared took her coat. "I'll let you sit beside the boss."

Her eyes popped open.

The men stood, waiting for Felicity to take her seat. A moment later, she dropped into the chair and stared at Diggle.

Oliver cleared his throat, but his head was too crammed with observations to field his words. "Two lunches with Miss Smoak in less than a week on the job. You're doing okay for yourself, huh, Jared."

Felicity's head turned slowly in Oliver's direction. Her lips parted. Her eyes stayed on Diggle until the angle of her chin forced them away. She lifted her eyebrows at Oliver in an unspoken "what the hell?"

Oliver smiled, impossible not to with her so near, looking so shocked and adorable. The word slowed his thoughts a bit. He dipped his chin. She really was adorable. He'd thought of her as a genius since the day they'd met. That was her first attribute. Soon after, he added witty and entertaining to brainiac, which became synonymous with her face in his mind. As they spent more time together, he learned she was many other things, like stubborn and passionate. She was sexy in an unapologetic way, as if she didn't realize the effect she had. He envied the confidence she wore plainly in her smile. She simply was who she was and whoever didn't like it was welcomed to keep walking. He snickered and shook his head. How all those things equated to adorable was a sign of what she did to his brain. Scrambled.

"Why are you laughing?" Her voice cracked his reverie. Diggle and Jared looked at Oliver as if he'd lost his mind.

Oliver straightened his posture. "Nothing. Something funny Diggle said earlier."

All eyes turned to Diggle and Oliver lifted his shoulders.

"I'm a funny guy," Diggle assured Jared, who laughed politely on cue.

Felicity crossed her legs beneath the table and kicked Oliver's shins. "Oops."

Oliver suppressed his humor before he earned a bruise from those heels. "This place is a bit of a hike from the office, Jared. Hasn't Felicity shown you the restaurants outside Queen Consolidated?"

Felicity groaned softly. Oliver's lip curled at the sound.

Jared leaned his elbows on the table, conspiratorially. "I wanted to take her someplace special before you steal her away from me."

Oliver's gaze darted to Felicity. A sudden charge of electricity between them lifted the hair on his arms and neck.

Diggle's voice nearly made him jump. "Well, Oliver knows quality when he sees it. He's needed an assistant for some time. I'm sure he's relieved Miss Smoak agreed to the new position."

Ah. Yes. That. Oliver shook his head, dashing the thought from his mind. She wasn't his to steal and as far as her new position at Queen Consolidated…Felicity hadn't been as easily removed from the IT department as he'd expected. Relocating someone from their five foot cubicle to an executive office had never been so frustrating. While he'd thought the guise was brilliant and perfectly timed with him freshly at the helm. Felicity behaved as if she'd been demoted, or asked to pick up his dry cleaning.

Jared reached his inhumanly long arm across the table, stopping inches short of Felicity's napkin. He winked and spoke in a stage whisper. "Maybe I can still pick you up from your fancy new office and take you out sometime, or you can come back and slum it in IT any day. I hear there's no end to the cold pizza and coffee."

Felicity smiled.

Oliver frowned. His fingers itched to shove Jared's hand back onto his side of the table.

Diggle stuck his nose back inside his cup, poorly hiding what looked like a smirk.

A waitress appeared with two fresh water glasses and place settings for their guests. "Everyone ready to order?"

Felicity ordered the fruit plate. The waitress looked to Oliver next.

"You only want fruit?" Oliver asked.

Pink crept over Felicity's cheeks. "Yes."

His nose wrinkled instinctively. She had the appetite of a hungry man. Where she put the calories, he had no idea. Could she be dieting? He begged Thea to eat daily. Felicity was perfect. Why would she diet? She cleared her throat and he realized his gaze had slid over her figure. The waitress cocked an eyebrow at him. He lifted a finger. "Can I have a minute? They should order." He motioned to Diggle and Jared, still looking amused from across the booth.

"What are you doing?" Felicity whispered as the waitress took the other men's orders.

"Are you feeling okay?" It didn't make sense for her to diet. His gaze moved to Jared, making back home humor with the waitress. Something about dairy cows or dainty crows. "Why aren't you eating?"

Her little fingers curled into fists on her lap. She twisted the life from her napkin. "I am eating. I ordered fruit. A normal, healthy, non-interrogation-requiring option."

He leaned away from her to examine her expression. "Are you nervous?"

Silence filled the space around them. The waitress was back to Oliver.

Felicity twisted her back to him, giving the waitress her full attention. "He'll have the BLT on wheat, no mayo and a house salad, vinaigrette on the side. Thank you."

Jared's boisterous laugh shocked Oliver back to reality. "Wow. Look at that, Mr. Queen. Looks like you picked the right woman for the job."

He had no doubt.

Diggle passed the menus forward. The forgotten tabloid toppled from behind the drink menu.

Felicity's hand flashed forward, knocking into Oliver's. Their fingers brushed, and Oliver's grip tightened over the crumpled paper. Felicity's breathing hitched beside him.

"Is that you?" Jared snagged the paper from their hands and whistled. "Man. You look like a movie star in that dress."

Oliver pressed his palms together beneath the table. He angled his chin toward Felicity and lowered his voice. "Have you? Did you see…read?" He cleared his throat and released a slew of internal curses. He opened his mouth to try again and she interrupted.

"Yes." One breathless word.

Jared dropped the paper on the table again. "That's amazing, Felicity. You never stop impressing me. Nice work with that charity. This says you raised over half a million dollars that night." He crossed his arms and smiled at her. Pride inched over his face.

Oliver's mouth pulled down on each side. A primal urge to stake his claim jolted through him, followed quickly by rebuke. She wasn't his to claim. Felicity had her own mind and when she was ready to fill him in on her thoughts about their complicated relationship status, he'd listen. Meanwhile making a move on someone who worked for him by day and protected his secrets by night, was inexcusable. He closed his eyes for one long beat. Anyway, staking claim on a feminist was the outright dumbest idea to rock through his cluttered head all week.

A more promising thought lifted through the fog. Maybe he didn't have to make a move. Maybe he could plant seeds and let them grow. Given enough time to get to know him and a bit of encouragement, maybe Felicity would come to him, assuming her feelings ever matched his. Then, he wouldn't be a creepy boss. He wouldn't put her in the awkward position of knowing he cared for her differently than she cared for him, and he could avoid a sexual harassment suit. That was a big bonus from a corporate perspective, though comical from his. Felicity would sooner nail him with that custom bow she had made and be finished than sue him. The plan took shape in his mind. He'd set up the stage and see how it played out, leaving Felicity in complete control. No pressure. No expectations. She'd determine what came next. The power was hers.

Assuming he could keep his hands off her. Unlikely, but worth a shot.

Felicity lifted the tabloid in one hand and stared at the photo. Oliver's heart heaved. The pages tittered under a slight tremble in her fingertips. Her eyelids dropped slightly and her chin turned toward him. Cheeks pink, her eyes darkened with something unspoken.

Oliver's gut twisted. What did it mean? What did she see when she looked at the photograph?

Her small hand slid from her lap beneath the table and onto his leg beside hers. A quick increase in pressure under her fingertips sent shockwaves through him. Felicity blinked long and slow, then replaced her hand, folding her fingers into her lap, leaving a patch of fire on the skin beneath his pant leg where her hand had been. The moment had come and gone in the space of a heartbeat, completely unnoticed by anyone else in the world, but that moment etched deep into Oliver's damaged heart. Her tiny squeeze sewed tendrils of hope and endless what ifs into the fabric of his soul.

The corner of her mouth tilted as she sipped her water. A hidden smile meant only for him. Perhaps touch was their new form of communication. He swallowed as the thought settled in his mind. The reassuring grip meant something to Felicity, and he intended to find out precisely what.