A/N: Ok, so this was inspired by the film, "Somewhere in Time," hence the one-shot's title. This can take place anywhere within Season 2, but I picture it happening somewhere in between 2x06-2x11. I should warn you that this starts out really tragic and sad, but it gets a lot more lighthearted in the second half of this one-shot. I strongly believe that if a writer can make their readers express true emotions (laughter, crying, anger, happiness, and sadness) then they are a good writer. If you laugh and cry while reading this particular one-shot, then I have done my job right as a writer. I hope you all like reading this as much I liked writing it. Please, read and review! Thank you.

VIII: Somewhere in Time…

Part 1) Kisses and Chaos…

Six hours, that's how long it had been since she had tasted paradise. His lips pressed firmly against hers, the way is hands had cupped her jaw and run his fingers through her hair, the way his stubble had rubbed sensuously against her mouth and jaw-line. The way their tongues had dueled together in a sensuous tango – it made her breathless. Six hours since their moment, the moment she had been waiting for over a year.

Now, all hell had broken loose. Laurel Lance had been kidnapped, and not just by any random bad guy. No! An old friend.

Slade Wilson had been observing Oliver ever since he had left the island and come home to Starling City. He knew his greatest weakness, the people he cared about the most, and all of his faults.

When Shado had died, Slade had been blind to the truth at first. First he hadn't known the true reason for her death, and then the truth had become distorted in his eyes, but now after 4 years of learning and growing he knew the truth. Oliver did not make a choice; he had reacted when he had jumped in front of Sara to save her from Ivo's bullet – a gut reaction brought forth by adrenaline. He was still furious that Shado had to pay with her life, but Slade was man enough to realize that Oliver had only acted the way anyone else would in his situation – being forced to choose between two very close friends. It didn't matter, in spite of everything he still blamed Oliver, and he intended to make him pay regardless. He was going to make him feel the pain, guilt, and heartbreak…and he knew exactly how to make that happen. He had an ace up his sleeve, because no matter whom Oliver would choose he would lose the one woman he truly loved, either through death or betrayal – and he knew exactly who Oliver really loved.

So, here they all were in an abandoned Opera House in the Glades, Oliver strung up to the wall with automatic metal cuffs closed around his wrists, while Detective Quinten Lance, Moira Queen, and Thea Queen were all tied to their own separate chair sitting off to the right – a perfect view of the stage. Felicity and Laurel were tied to two ropes that were polled high above their heads, lifting their arms, leaving them open and vulnerable.

They had all played into his trap wonderfully. First Moira and Thea had been kidnapped – Roy racing to Verdant and down into the Lair to inform Oliver. Oliver had acted fast, following a lead with the help of Detective Lance, and leading himself and Lance right into the mouse trap. Felicity had tracked them all down and would have been able to save them all with Roy and Digg's help had Laurel not showed up and split their group up and gotten the two of them kidnapped as well.

So, here they all were…stuck…trapped…doomed! Felicity only hoped that Digg had been able to get a hold of Sara and between them and Roy, would be able to save them from this horror show.

Slade stood just below the stage slowly making his way towards Oliver as he monologued his super evil plan just like every other really-bad-guy they had all dealt with.

"You seem surprised, old friend. Cat got your tongue?" Slade's voice was deep and throaty, but not in the pleasant way that Oliver's was that often made Felicity shiver. No, his voice had a sort of raspy quality to it that reminded them all of rusting, grinding, machinery.

"Slade?" Oliver's voice was so shocked that it came out in a rough whisper, barely discernable as far as the stage. Felicity and Laurel had to strain to hear him.

"Yes. It's me. I lived, but let's talk about more important things. Like why I brought you all here. I figured it would be fitting to have all the people you care about most witness this side of you…the true side. The real you that you became on that island. A man unafraid of killing and sacrifice; of pain and death." Slade paused before he turned back to the stage and made his way over to stand behind Laurel. "Now, my dear Ms. Lance…how long have you waited for this day? The day to see the Hood – a mere vigilante – trapped in his own darkness and about to meet true justice? The very man who was unable to save Tommy, the man you loved." Slade moved to look Laurel in the eyes. "Does feel good, seeing him so weak and helpless?"

Laurel didn't need to answer, in spite of the dangerous situation they were all in; the truth was in her eyes – relief and contempt at seeing the Hood strung up against the wall gleaming through her eyes.

Slade went to stand behind Felicity then, his hands running up from her bare arms, the tops of her shoulders, to the sides of her neck and jaw. Oliver bristled and strained in his restraints as he watched Slade caress Felicity so open and crudely.

"Now, my old friend. How do think you'll survive when your beloved Felicity sees the real you?" Before Slade could taunt Oliver some more Felicity interrupted him.

"I know the real him! He's a hero! He will always be a hero! No matter what you or Laurel say to discredit him!" Felicity's voice was passionate and strong, filled with pure confidence, her eyes trained on Oliver the entire time.

Slade took that time to step away from Felicity and slowly, snakingly, make his way back towards Oliver. "You see, even now she defends you. But it will be the last time she does so. Soon she will see you as I see you." With those final words, Slade had made his way to stand directly in front of Oliver. He turned slightly to glance back at Laurel Lance, and then to Det. Lance, Moira, and Thea Queen who were so in shock that they sat as still as statues, not even bothering to try and escape from their imprisonment – their wrists and ankles bound to their chairs. "As for you lot, perhaps it is time you all see the true Oliver Queen!" With that Slade pulled back Oliver's hood and ripped off his mask. Felicity was the only one that did not gasp in surprise.

"NOW! As much as I'd like to revel in this obvious shocker, I have better things to do with my…" Slade looked to Oliver, "Purgatory." He walked back to Laurel and Felicity, standing just behind them, in between them. "So, Oliver, do you remember that choice you had to make five years ago?" Slade withdrew a small hand gun from his side beneath his suit jacket, cocking it, before raising it slowly.

"No." Oliver's voice rasped. He knew what Slade wanted him to do, but he couldn't. He couldn't make the choice, not again!

"Yes, Oliver. Now, which will you choose? The woman whom you longed to return to for five years while you were trapped in Purgatory? The woman who now despises you. Or the woman who is so loyal, faithful, and willing to do anything for you? Your partner in crime." Slade pointed the gun at each young woman as he referred to them.

"Slade, my friend…"

"YOU ARE NOT MY FRIEND! NOW, CHOOSE!" Slade yelled, his gun hand now held the nozzle of the gun up against Laurel's temple. Laurel began to cry, "Ollie, Ollie, please!" She begged. She did not give any head to the woman whose life was just as much in the balance as hers. Felicity looked from Laurel to Oliver. Laurel's cries had won Oliver's firm attention as he now gazed in horror and longing at her. He did not spare Felicity a single glance. Soon Detective Lance's cries joined Laurel's, but he did not just beg for his daughter's life, and he did not plea with Oliver to save his daughter. He begged Slade, begged him for mercy for both of them.

The moment was over. For the last 18 months that Felicity had known Oliver Queen, they had shared a multitude of intensely sexual and passionate moments (some more physical than others), each one always having a hint of something more…something deeper – each one becoming more and more intense. But, now…the moment was over and she was forced to face reality. She turned her attention back to Oliver, whose gaze had not left Laurel, as he tried to sooth her fears while at the same time begging Slade to, "Take me instead!" he kept shouting.

It was no use.

"Oliver," Felicity said, her voice miraculously carrying over Oliver pleading, Laurel's sobbing, and Det. Lance's shouts. For the first time since Slade had pulled the gun, Oliver looked at Felicity. His eyes were dark, as if something in him had died. "It's ok. You're going to be ok." Even in this desperate situation, Felicity's words seemed to have a calming effect on Oliver.

It didn't last long.

"You have ten seconds to choose one, or they both die." Slade's voice held the utmost venom as he looked upon Laurel's sobbing and simpering in disgust.

"One…"

Oliver's gaze held Felicity's.

"Two…"

He let out another pleading to Slade, begging him to take his life instead.

"Three…"

Moira and Thea had finally broken free from their shock, and began to struggle in their bindings.

"Four…"

Detective Lance began to swear at Slade while trying to offer some words of comfort to Laurel.

"Five…"

Oliver's gaze strayed to his mother and sister. Horror at what they were witnessing him do, at discovering the True him.

"Six…"

Laurel's sobs grew louder as she began to quake in pure terror.

"Seven…"

"Ollie! Ollie! Please! I love you!" Laurel's shout drew everyone's attention, but they all knew the truth. Her words were false.

"Eight…"

Oliver's gaze drifted back to Felicity…

Her eyes held no fear. Just hope.

Hope…and love.

"Nine…"

"Ollie!" Laurel's cries sounded more like whining, now.

"Have you made your choice Oliver? Felicity…"Slade raised his gun to Felicity's temple. Oliver pulled on his shackles, desperate to be free. To save her. "Or Laurel…" Slade turned his gun on Laurel.

Laurel's scream yanked Oliver' attention away from Felicity. He didn't know what she saw in his eyes then, but it must have been something, for her cries of fear immediately turned to joy as she had come to the belief – from that one small hesitation, that simple look he had shot her way – that she was the chosen one.

It all happened as if it were in slow motion. The ropes that held up Felicity and Laurel's wrists dropped suddenly their knots loosening as they were released. At the same time, Oliver's shackles gave an electrical beeping before they opened automatically. They all seemed to freeze in shock before Laurel lurched forward, an exhilarated look on her face as she ran towards Oliver. But, Oliver's gaze had captured Felicity's once again.

Just then, the glass dome roof of the abandoned theatre crashed in at the same time as the two entrance doors on the right and left side of the stage burst open.

Sara Lance – the Black Canary in all her furious Glory – landed gracefully from her decedent from above. Glass rained down upon her. Roy and Digg thrust their way through the hard English oak doors on the stage. Weapons drawn.

Everyone burst into action. Roy lunged for Thea and Moira, releasing them from their bonds. Sara doing the same for her father, he quickly reached for the extra pistol he always carried on his ankle. Digg tried to regain his balance from the force he had put into breaking dawn the stage door. He whipped his weapon out, eyes searching for Slade, but his aim would be too late.

"Ten…"

Slade raised his gun, aiming at Felicity's back.

Oliver's shout stopped them all as they gazed in horror. Oliver seemed to realize that he was no longer trapped to the wall and raced forward. His legs felt like lead as he pushed himself to go faster.

"NO!"

He shoved past Laurel who was caught not by him, but by her father. Her face wore a perfect frown.

The gun shot rang out like a clap of thunder in a silent sanctuary.

"NO!"

Felicity dropped, darkness gripping her, trying to drag her down, as if she were swimming in a deep dark ocean. Strong arms caught her. Calloused hands cupped the sides of her face. She fell…deeper…deeper…darker…

"Dad, get Laurel out of here. Now!" Sara shouted. Laurel seemed to come out of a haze at her words, only just now realizing that her sister was standing protectively in front of her and their father.

Sara?" Laurel's voice was raspy from her screams from earlier. "Sara!" Laurel's sputters of surprise continued as her father dragged her from the old Opera House. Sara turned her gaze onto Digg. He glanced from Felicity's fallen figure to Sara. It only took a look for him to realize what she was silently saying. Slade was gone, they needed to follow him and try to catch him. He gave a sharp nod in understanding, grabbing a second gun from his side. They both turned to Roy – dressed in his traditional red hoodie – who was helping Moira and Thea.

"Roy!" Digg's sharp voice cracked with buried emotions. Roy raised his head to meet Digg and Sara's gazes. He gave them a nod before handing a sobbing Thea over to Moira. Daughter griped onto her mother like a life preserver.

Sara, Digg, and Roy raced from the stage room and ran after Slade. Digg had called in a favor with his now fiancé, Lyla who was bringing the cavalry any minute.

"Felicity! Felicity! Stay with me! Felicity, talk to me," Oliver's voice pleaded in broken sobs. He could count the number of times he had cried in his entire life on one hand. First, when his grandmother had died when he was 6 years old. Then, when his father had called him a "bitter disappointment" in a fit of anger when he was 14. Again, when he was 22 – the moment his father had pulled the trigger and shot himself. He cried when he had been tortured by Slade's spy friend. And finally, when Tommy had died. Now, he cried openly – huge, gasping sobs – as he held Felicity in his arms.

By the sound of Felicity's shallow gargled breathing, Slade had shot her in the lung. A thin layer of blood fell from between her brightly colored lips. Her eyes blinked open rapidly before falling on him. "Oliver." Her voice soft and broken.

"Oh, God. No. Felicity, you need to hold on, ok? Please, baby…" Tears ran freely down his face. He didn't care that his mother and sister now watched on in horror as he broke completely.

"Promise me…you'll keep...fighting. Promise me…" her voice shattered as she coughed; blood sputtered forth in a red froth.

"Yes, I promise. Please, just hold on." One hand cradled the back of her head, while the other pressed fiercely on her wound in the hope of stopping the blood. It was no use. Blood continued to seep through his fingers. "Oh, God…please…what do I do? Felicity? I can't live…without…you." He choked, his tears temporarily clouding his vision – he blinked them away.

"I…love…you." She smiled. She fucking smiled at him, and even though her own blood coated her lips and teeth, and God help him he smiled back – her pure light once again gripping him like it always did. She raised her hand limply and brushed her finger across his lips. "Please…please…"

He knew what she was asking. He choked back another sob as he adjusted his position, no longer kneeling beside her, dragging her onto his lap. He bent his head and captured her mouth with his. He kissed her as fiercely, passionately, and as lovingly as he could. With the last bit of strength she possessed she gripped her hands in his hair and held him to her. They fell limply at her sides.

"No…Felicity! No! Come back…come back." He sobbed as he shook her, trying to wake her from her slumber. "Please…I love you. I know I should've said it sooner. Please, come back. I need you!"

Part 2) Mourning…

He didn't know how he ended up back at Verdant, sitting in a cool dark corner; Felicity's cold motionless body draped over his lap a he clutched her to him. His Arrow suit soaked in her now dry blood. He could still taste the coppery flavor in his mouth from their last kiss.

He didn't realize that his mother and sister had followed him and now stood off somewhere in the Lair, watching his still form.

Oliver didn't look up when Digg, Sara, and Roy burst into the Lair – Detective Lance hot on their tail. He didn't hear Digg try to explain things to him about Slade. Oliver clutched Felicity to him tighter when Lance, Digg, and Roy tried to take her body from him. Glaring at them, growling at them to go away and leave them alone.

All he knows is that it was his mother who helped him stand. His mother who held his hand at the funeral they held a week later.

In a fit of rage Oliver had bought a simple emerald ring set in platinum, putting it on Felicity's ring finger before they lowered her coffin into the ground.

He had insisted that she be buried in the Queen family's private cemetery. His mother and sister agreed without question.

It was a very small affair. Digg and Layla stood off to the left, flanking Oliver. Moira stood at his side, her body stiff and solid as he leaned against her. Thea and Roy stood next to them; a small rose in her hand that she would then lay on Felicity's grave before they'd leave. Even Walter Steele had flown in for the funeral, offering comfort to each Queen member. The Lance's stood in the back. Sara reaching a small hand out to cover the one that Digg had placed on Oliver's shoulder. Detective Lance cried as hard as Digg. He had a bond with Felicity Smoak – it tends to happen when you disable an earth-quack-causing-bomb – and he had come to think of her as one of his own daughters; something special and to be honored. Digg cried for his lost 'sister.' They had fought many battles together, side by side. Thea cried more in shame then in sadness. She hadn't known Felicity as well as she had liked to, especially now knowing her brother's feelings for the blond. Roy held Thea up much like Moira was holding Oliver up. Lyla cried softly and respectfully. She had held Felicity in a very high esteem for she thought the girl to be very brave. Laurel Lance did not cry, instead she stood there and watched each person's reactions, a frown set firmly in place on her perfectly made up face.

When the funeral was done, Laurel tried to reach out to Oliver – to hug or comfort him – but he shied away from her, avoiding her gaze. He walked away without a second look.

It was Digg who met with Felicity's lawyer back at Queen Consolidated. As soon as Digg and Felicity had joined Oliver in his crusade, he had ensured that should their secrets ever be discovered they would all be taken care of legally, and had insisted that his lawyer be theirs as well. Felicity's will was short and to the point. Since she had no living relatives – which would explain why she had no family at her own funeral – everything went to Digg and Oliver or charity.

Her clothes – except for a few favorites – were donated to a homeless shelter. Oliver received her favorite cardigan, which read "Pearly Queen" on the back; her favorite dress, a red number which he had only seen her wear once – to the casino where they had gone looking for Walter; and a cute bad-ass black leather jacket that he had never, and will never, see her wear.

A few pieces of jewelry were gifted to Goodwill, except for a simple locket that she had always worn which had gone to Digg.

Her computers were taken to the IT Department of Queen Consolidated, minus a few questionable programs that would remain in Verdant's basement.

Her apartment was cleared out and sold.

Everything that was her was gone.

It was the safe deposit box that Digg was given that stumped him. He returned to Queen Manor to see Oliver sitting stiffly on the window seat in the living room. His mother sat opposite him with her hand resting comfortingly on his knee. Walter stood behind Moira, saying something to Oliver in such a low and soft voice that Digg could not make it out. Thea and Roy sat on one sofa, while Laurel and Det. Lance sat across from them on the other sofa. Sara stood in a corner not far from her family.

"I-I went to Queen Consolidated," his voiced gained everyone's attention and they all turned to him as he made his way fully into the room. "To meet with…Fel-Felicity's lawyer." Oliver's head snapped up and shot around to look at Digg when he heard the sound of Felicity's name. "She left this," he held up the still locked safety deposit box, "for me, Roy, and Oliver.

Later, Oliver might have found the hilarity in the 300 page book that Felicity had left him, Roy, and Digg. It was titled, "Hacking for Incompetent Cavemen Who Refuse to Learn Anything About Computers." It took him two years to read the letter she had left behind, saying…

Dearest Oliver,

I want you to know that I love you. With all my heart, mind, soul and body – I love you. If you are reading this then I am gone. Just know that I want you to always keep faith in yourself and our team. They are not just your partners, they are your family. We have become a family for we share a bond that has been forged with blood, sweat, and tears. A bond that is only shared in battle. We fought many battles; winning most of them. Remember that. We won, whether it is small or large, in the end we won; because of you and your fierce protective nature. We all brought a little something to the table: you with your fierce strength and unyielding will to keep fighting (I want you to keep fighting, for me); Digg with his moral and code of honor; and Roy with his young enthusiasm. I hope I meant as much to you as you meant to me. Just know that I love you, and I always will – I will always fight for you, trust you, have faith in you, and believe in you.

Yours Always & Forever,

Felicity

He wasn't sure what Roy and Digg's letters had said, but it didn't matter. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.

Part 3) Time…

Time passed in small slow throbbing lulls.

First, the week of the funeral where Laurel had tried to comfort him by giving him a kiss; he had shoved her away from him, letting his anger rule him as he shouted at her. He told her that he "should have made the choice." He should've just chosen Felicity. Laurel had left in a fit of rage at his words, but he didn't care – not anymore. That was the last time he saw her, spoke to her, or even thought about Laurel Lance.

February

March

April

May

1 Year

5 Years: It took five years for the four of them to once again find and go up against Slade and his men. Since Felicity's death he had made sure to keep not only his promise to her (to keep fighting), but also his promise to Tommy (to never kill again). But, that night when he came up against Slade once more, he took the shot, and shoved an arrow through the man's heart. It was the last kill he made.

10 Years Later…

Part 4) Obsession…

It had been 10 years since she had died. Oliver Queen had brought Queen Consolidated back from the dead, making it one of the most respected businesses in the world. Walter had come back for good, that day of the funeral, and they were a family again. Thea married Roy a year after her death. He now had a niece and a nephew. He was still the Arrow. Sara had joined the team, but left after 3 years to marry some guy from Gotham. A John Robin Blake – a detective.

Detective Lance was now the Chief of Police; he would be retiring this year; and had continued to help Oliver and his team fight against injustice. He had kept his promise, working harder than ever before to be the hero she always saw him as.

Digg and Roy stayed on the team, working as one and putting Felicity's guidebook and programs to good use every single night.

He never moved on. Never moved forward.

A month ago he had become obsessed with a book he had read about time travel. He had always been obsessed about fixing the past, fixing that night. Always wishing he could go back and do things differently. He had even met the author of the book – discreetly of course – and they discussed the very possibility of traveling through time.

So, here he was in his bedroom in Queen Manor, lying on his bed on his back. The room was empty for everything but the bed. He did what his friend had told him to do in order to make this work. His eyes were closed as he repeated the same words he had been saying for the last six hours.

"It is January 29th, 2014. I am in my childhood home. Felicity is alive. It is 9 in the morning on January 29th, 2014. I am in my childhood home. Felicity is alive…" on and on he went.

9 hours: he paced his room. Frustration curled his insides.

16 hours: he sat collapsed at the foot of his bed, sweat beading his brow, tears stinging his eyes.

24 hours: he lay on his side, the words slurring through his mouth as his mind became more and more foggy.

Sleep Claimed Him.

Part 5) Back to the Future…

He awoke with a start. At first he thought he had failed and he fell back on his bed, but clarity and realization soon gripped him as he realized that his room was once again full. He stood up and slowly walked across the room, praying this wasn't a dream tormenting him. He opened his bedroom door and quietly crept out, making his way to the edge of the banister just in time to see himself – his younger self – walk across the entryway and out the front door.

It worked!

An hour later he found himself standing outside Felicity's apartment door. He knocked once, twice, three times. His palms sweating from nerves. When she opened the door, everything froze.

Felicity did not know what she was expecting, but seeing an older man who could easily be Oliver in ten years standing outside her front door was not it. "Can I help…?" Before she could finish her sentence, two sensuously callused hands cupped her face and pulled her forward. A hot stubble covered mouth latched onto hers. Her mouth opened in a gasp of shock, but her stranger took that as an invitation and thrust his tongue inside to tangle with her. Despite the fact that she was moaning into said mouth – it was a very good kiss – her other instincts woke up and she reacted. Her knee came up and he went down.

"Hello, Felicity," said Oliver as he kneeled on the ground, his voice barely covering up the quiver in his throat. He groaned in pain, hands clutching his groin areas in the hopes that it would miraculously heal the pain.

"Who are you?" Felicity tried to not sound so breathless and…satisfied – it was an amazing kiss – when she spoke, but it was a fruitless attempt.

"Um…Oliver Queen?"

An hour later had Felicity backed into her apartment with a big cleaver in one hand and her cell phone in the other. Oliver tried explaining to her that it was really him, just a much older him…from the future. Yeah, now that he had said it out loud it did sound crazy. He really should have made a plan for this. Simply saying, "Hey, I'm Oliver Queen. I traveled back from the future because something bad is going to happen and I can't let it. So, yeah…" Definitely should have planned ahead.

"Is this a joke? Am I being punked? Did Oliver and Digg higher some look-a-like to do this?" asked Felicity, her cleaver hand lowering slightly while her eyes searched her living room for some hidden cameras.

"Um, no. This is real, Felicity," said Oliver, trying to convey the absolute truth of the situation through his eyes as he held her gaze. She looked at him with narrowed eyes before they widened in alarm. Her phone hand lifted, thumb pressed down on the number 2 – the speed dial for Detective Lance – as she held it to her ear, her cleaver hand raised once more in an aggressive manner.

"Lance, I need help I…" Felicity's voice sounded panicked, and Oliver grew desperate. So, he did the only thing he could think of.

"Wait, I can prove it!" He tore off his leather jacket, ripping his shirt off and over his head. "Look!" he said, pointing to his scars and tattoos.

Felicity seemed momentarily distracted by his half naked appearance before shaking her head and bringing her head back out of the gutter. His tattoos…his scars…they were in the exact same place as well, Oliver Queen's. "Um…Detective…" she looked back at his eyes and she must have seen something in them because her next words to Lance had Oliver letting out a relieved sigh. "Sorry, Lance. It was just a misunderstanding…yes…I know, I'm sorry for worrying you. Yes….my um, neighbor's boyfriend just surprised me. Ok…I have to go, now." She hung up the cell phone. Her eyes were glued to Oliver's bare chest.

"Listen, I know this is really…crazy, but it's true. I can prove it in any way you want me to, just hear me out." Oliver's voice took on a desperate tone that Felicity had never heard him use.

"If…if you're Oliver Queen, then why did you kiss me?" Felicity asked, suspicion once again entering her voice.

Oliver's eyes and voice took on a softer quality as he looked at her and said, "Because I love you."

"Oh, my God! You really are a crazy person!" Felicity was about to call Detective Lance again when her cell phone was suddenly yanked from her hand. "Hey!"

"Wait…listen…I can prove I'm Oliver Queen. Ask me anything!"

"Fine, what is Oliver Queen's biggest secret?"

"I'm secretly in love with you." Felicity raised an annoyed eyebrow at that answer. "Ok…I'm secretly the Vigilante, Arrow, but before that I was called the Hood, but I never liked that name." Felicity's eyes widened.

"If you are the vigilante, what is the passcode to your secret Lair?"

"Your birthdate."

"Ha, you're wrong!" She raised her cleaver once more.

"No, I'm not. It's 073191, July 31st 1991…your birthdate." Felicity thought about it for a second and realized it was the digits of her birthdate – month, day, and year.

"I-I never realized that before. Ok…what is my middle name?"

"Meghan."

"That was an easy question. How did we first meet?"

"I came to you with a bullet riddled laptop and a bad lie, and if you'd like more proof. The second time was when I came to you asking you to help me find a friend who was really a bank robber. Then that time I asked you to track down the location of where a black arrow had been delivered. There was the time I asked you to decrypt a military security encrypted flash drive. And of course, who could forget my horrible lie about my lack of sports bottles for a mysterious syringe filled with drugs. The time I came to you after my mother shot me…I can keep going if you want me to?"

Felicity looked at him with wide, shocked eyes before she finally lowered the very sharp looking cleaver. "So, you're really…"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I told you. Something really bad happens in the future and I have to…I need to change it." Before Felicity could interrogate him anymore, her cell phone began to ring. Oliver looked down into his hand and saw his own name flash across the screen. He handed the cell phone back to her. "It's…well, me." Felicity took the phone from him and answered it, her voice finally able to sound somewhat normal as she told him, well…present-day-him that everything was alright. Detective Lance must have called the Vigilante after her panicked and strange call to him.

"Yes Oliver I'm fine, I promise. Um, is it possible to meet me at verdant in a couple of hours? I know it's Saturday, but there is something I need to…yes. Ok, I'll see you and Digg at one o'clock." She quickly hung up and Oliver was once again pulled back to her intense gaze. "Ok, explain. Everything."

So, he did.

Ok, not everything. He did not tell her that she was the one who died, only that someone they all love would be killed by someone he once thought of as a friend that he met on the island. He gave her further proof by telling her certain things about the island that only she knew about. By the time one came around, Felicity had convinced him that they should talk with his past self and Digg so that they could better come up with a more reliable plan to stop this "Crazy Slade person" as she so kindly put it.

Twenty minutes later, Mr. Future Oliver – whom Felicity had been giving some very intense looks to (she was still in shock over the "I love you" confession) – had positioned himself behind her desk of computers and other high-tech instruments that he had no idea of their uses. Felicity sat in her office style chair, her hand ringing in nervousness, when the present-day-Oliver and Digg came bounding down the metal stairs to the Lair beneath Verdant.

"Felicity, what's wrong? Lance said you sounded weird when you called him and you sounded off when we…" Oliver paused when he realized that Felicity was not alone, before pulling his bow and a very sharp green arrow from their perch and glass case and aiming it at the obvious intruder. Digg pulled his gun and took aim. "Who are you?" Oliver used his Arrow voice as he spoke to the man positioned behind Felicity before turning his hard gaze on her. "What is this Felicity?"

"Whoa, guys!" Felicity jumped from her chair and put herself directly in front of the arrow aimed at future guy. "Oliver, he's you!" Oliver and Digg looked at each other before turning their gazes back to Felicity. "He's you…from the future." At their incredulous faces, Felicity turned back to Future Oliver and said, "Yeah, you're right. That really does sound crazy."

"Ok, what did you give her? Drugs? Hypnosis?"

"Oliver! I'm serious! And he can prove it, too. I asked him stuff. Stuff only you would know and he does."

"Why is he striping?" Digg interrupted them and they all turned to look at future Oliver to see him once again pulling his shirt over his head to reveal the exact same tattoos an scars as present-day-Oliver.

"See, just look at him," pleaded Felicity. Oliver killing his future self was not an event that she wanted to deal with, ever.

So, Oliver and Digg looked…really looked, and they saw: the same straight nose, the same strong masculine jawline, the same piercing silver-blue eyes, the same dirty-blond hair (the only difference being a few stray grey hairs along his temple), the same amount of scruff on said jaw, the same muscle tone, the same tattoos, and the same scars (with a few additions).

Digg was the first to break the intense silence. "Ok, this is just too weird." He raised his hands to rub his fingers along the side of his head, a clear sign of a growing headache.

"Fine, but I want one more piece of proof." growled present-day-Oliver.

So, that is how they ended up two hours later with Present and Future Oliver now both shirtless and fighting each other in hand-to-hand combat on the training mats, Felicity watched with rapt attention. She had always admired Oliver's physique, but watching two of him half naked and very sweaty was making her think some very naughty thoughts involving both of him…at the same time. She shivered and tried to shake her head out of the gutter. It was a hopeless effort, though. Her mind always seemed to be in the gutter whenever Oliver Queen was involved. She didn't even notice when Roy came down into the Lair, not until she overheard Digg explaining things to him. Felicity was yanked from her dirty thoughts involving Present and Future Oliver when Future Oliver turned to his past self/present self (this is really confusing) and said, "We need to talk…alone."

Felicity's curiosity sparked and she protested very loudly while Digg and Roy practically dragged her out of the Lair and off to get something to eat at Big Belly Burger.

(A/N: Now that Oliver is going to have a conversation with himself, I will be putting both names in different formats in order for you guys to tell the difference. Present-day-Oliver is just "Oliver" in regular font. Future Oliver is going to be in italics: Oliver. I hope this makes things easier to understand.)

Oliver watched as…Oliver gazed longingly after Felicity's retreating figure. Wow, now I know how Digg feels so annoyed whenever I talk in third person, thought Oliver.

Oliver caught himself watching Felicity. "What?"

"The way you look at her. It's like…are we, I mean Felicity and I, are we…together in the future?" asked Oliver, a rare hopefulness sounding in his voice.

Oliver gave him a bitter smile as he looked off into the distance, his eyes just as dark as his thoughts. "No." He noticed Oliver's gaze drop in what could only be seen as disappointment. "We never got the chance."

"What do you mean?"

"I-I told Felicity," Oliver's voice took on a tender sound when he said her name. "I told her that something bad happens in the future, and I came back to stop it from happening. The truth is, 'bad' is an understatement. What happens is…horrific…tragic…heartbreaking. I have to change it. I have to fix it."

"What happens?" Oliver dreaded what Oliver might say next. He was scared to death, something that did not happen very often – not since the island – of what he was about to learn about his future.

"She dies." Oliver clenched his eyes as the memories of that night flashed through his mind.

Oliver chokes on a gasp, his hands clenched into fists, as he tries to regain his breathing. His mind races at all the possibilities of…How? Why? When? "How?" he rasps out.

"You remember our old friend, Slade Wilson?" Oliver nods his head yes. His eyes widen as he realizes what Oliver is telling him. "He's not dead. He wanted revenge for Shado. So, he…he makes us choose…between Felicity and…"

"Laurel."

"Yeah."

Oliver took in what Oliver had just revealed, before his entire body stiffened as a horrific realization tore through his mind. "It was my fault. I made the choice, didn't I?! That's why she dies."

"No, not necessarily. We don't choose either of them. At least, not on purpose. We wanted to make the choice. We want to choose her, but…I hesitated. Laurel thought that I chose her because I hesitated and she pretty much made the choice for me. Slade noticed Laurel and that she thought I'd chosen her and so he…he shot Felicity." Oliver choked on his tears that had gotten stuck in his throat. "He made it last, purposefully shooting her in the lung. She died fast enough for it not to be painful, but slow enough for me to watch." He didn't stop the slow, silent tears that fell from his distraught eyes. "She died in my arms."

Oliver couldn't believe it, that it wasn't just him who was at fault, but Laurel, too. He turned to Oliver, leaning his arms on the med bay table in the center of the Lair, his head tilted forward in concentration – mirroring Oliver's pose. "Tell. Me. Everything."

Part 6) Always You…

Hours later Felicity was sitting on her very comfy couch, her mind firmly on Oliver and everything that had transpired in the last twelve hours. She had been having an internal debate as to whether she should run back to the Lair and offering Oliver any help; anything to just be around him. She finally jumped up from her couch, determined to help him – whether he welcomed it or not – and headed to her front door, grabbing her jacket, keys, and purse on the way. So, it was an absolute shock to see Oliver – the one and only, Oliver – standing on the other side of her door, his hand poised to nock as she whipped her front door open.

"Oh, hey. Where's Future you?" Felicity put her purse and keys back on the small side table next to her door and threw her jacket on the chair a few feet away.

"He went back to the future."

"Oh." Felicity noticed the sadness in Oliver's eyes. "Are you ok? You seem really…not yourself."

Oliver couldn't help the small smile that split across his face at her choice of words. "I just really needed to see you. And…I wanted to let you know…" he rubbed his hands over his face as if it would wipe away the pain and worry. When his hands dropped, it wasn't they that took away the weight that had been on his shoulders since his future self revealed his true purpose in coming here; no, it was when his gaze fell upon Felicity once more that the burden was finally lifted. It had taken him so long to realize it, but that often happened when he was in Felicity's presence. Her light took away the darkness that seemed to cloak him.

He stepped over the threshold of her apartment entrance and slowly began to stalk her backward until her back hit the opposite wall. "I want you to know that I chose you. I will always choose you."

"Oliver, I…" Felicity did not get the chance to finish before Oliver took one last step towards her. His hands cupped her face gently, and yet the roughness from the callouses on his hands lend an air of rough sensuality to that moment.

"I. Love. You. Only. You." Each word he spoke was punctuated with a kiss; first her forehead, then her eyelids, her nose, and finally her mouth. She expected his kiss to be rough, but it was slow and sensual instead. His lips brushed over her with a feather light touch before his mouth clasped hers. He used his thumb and forefinger to press against her jaw and chin, bidding her mouth to open. She granted him access. His tongue slid inside her mouth, brushing over the rough of her mouth, dueling with her own tongue. He was slow and unhurried, but the sob/whimper that broke through her throat as she threw her arms and legs around him. He caught her, lifting her as she wrapped herself around him. The kiss turned rough and demanding as he tried to convey every sing emotion he felt in that single moment. She faintly heard the distinct sound of ripping fabric as he tore her simple dark green t-shirt from her body as he carried her through her apartment, kicking the front door closed on his way, landing on the floor as he laid them both down in front of her little fireplace in the living room. The rough fabric of the carpet scraped against her bare back. When she finally came back to reality, Oliver was in the process of removing her bra and sliding her small boy-shorts down her legs, until she lay beneath him in nothing but her own flesh. Felicity finally became a more acting participant and did to his shirt what he had done to hers – tore it off him. He seemed to enjoy her aggressiveness if his growl was anything to go by. When they were both naked they came together…finally. Writhing and twisting. Cries and growls of passion. Sobs/whimpers and groans of ecstasy. He pinned her hands above her head as his head buried itself in her neck, leaving yet another mark against her skin – they littered her body as he claimed her as his. Her legs held firm around his waist as he took her again and again and again, until there was nothing left to give. Her scream and his shout of release seemed to echo around them.

Now their bodies lay at rest, limbs tangled and hearts calmed, Oliver holding her from behind as she slept; his arms wrapped securely around her as if he were afraid she'd vanish into thin air. He would heed the advice and knowledge that his future self had given him. if he was forced to make the choice then he would make it and he would not regret it, he knew that now. He was no longer tied down by family – they could and would survive without him – by friends – Digg, Roy, and Sara could move on with their lives and carry on the crusade he had started; they would understand any sacrifice he'd make – or Laurel – for he was no longer blinded by her false veil of perfection, she no longer held him together. Only her, Felicity…she held him together and kept him going. He only needed her, for he could live without the rest. He would keep her safe and they would live ridiculously happily ever after together. He'd make sure of it.

A/N: Did anyone else notice in the episode, "Blind Spot" that Sara revealed that Laurel won Oliver by tricking her sister – who had a crush on him first – into getting grounded and kept away from him so she could capture his heart instead?! Yeah, Laurel totally has a dark side that Oliver really needs to realize! Also, she shot a guy! I mean isn't she the one whose against vigilante justice and going outside the law?! And yet, she shot a guy like five times – totally was trying to kill him, otherwise she would have shot to wound and not as many times as she did – in cold blood! I hope Oliver starts to see the real her from now on.

I hope you enjoyed this story. Please, read and review. Thank you!