A/N: Hi y'all, talking to you from a sugar high today. Just made this unreal ice cream with only two ingredients, no ice cream maker. I've decided I want to be buried in a huge vat of the stuff. It's beyond awesome. So far beyond awesome that it's probably going to take a good ten years off my life. #totally worth it #no regrets I'm making myself Japanese beef rolls with lots of vegetables for dinner tonight by way of apology to my body. Forgive me, pancreas, I know not what I do… well, actually, I totally know what I'm doing, but I'm going to do it anyways. Have some broccolini by way of a peace offering. Broccolini absorbs sugar, right? I feel like it should.

Okay, so, chapter 10, I know I've been posting every 2-3 days instead of my usual every second day with the last story. How are you going? Bored with it? Pace too slow? Nothing really happening? All good points. I'm just hitting chapter 24 I think it is, and it's only just starting to pick up momentum there. Can you believe I honestly thought the stuff I'm writing in 24 would turn up around chapter 5? How delusional am I? Yeah, a really high level of delusion… or is that depths? Anyways, I'm clearly out of my mind.

I'm kind of overdosing myself and my muse in all these Olicity beats. I could just get on with the story and cut them all out, but I'm indulging myself – possibly over indulging if I'm honest. Mind you, I try and justify my crapulence with the thought that when things get horrible in the second half of the story, you'll be able to come back here and remember the good old days. That's something, right? I haven't really raised the stakes yet in this story – that's to come. I think the level of angst is so heavy on the show, I just wanted to wallow a bit in some fun Olicity stuff, because old Trollenheim is going to make us work for it, way more than I ever will/could. Lol He can stretch this out for up to another 3 years. I'm REALLY hoping I'll be done with this series long before that… although, at this rate, who knows?

Hmm, I haven't been amusing in this forward, have I? (Arguably not for the first time). Hanks currently on fire, but that's not a funny story… more a confusing one. Who knew guinea pigs could spontaneously combust – I thought that was just human thing. Guess Hank knows not to put the little guys in his mouth anymore. I just wish he hadn't had a mouthful of vodka at the same time. It's going to take a while for the hair on his face to grow back I'm thinking. Nothing worse than a bald monkey. Actually, maybe there is one thing, this is going to give Hank the perfect opportunity to bust out his toupee collection. I wouldn't be so against the comb over horrors if he didn't make them himself from hair he's sourced from about the place. I'm sorry, I don't care what Hank says, they still look like pubic hairs to me, no matter how much you attempt a 'Jennifer Aniston' with them. Plus, I'm pretty sure those beauty salons did NOT give him permission to scavenge all their Brazilian left overs. It's just all the way round unsettling.

So, to make up for the lack of humor, here are a few jokes to lighten the mood…

Number 1: Topical, considering where you are…

What does the Green Arrow have in his drinks?

Just ice.

Number 2: Also topical if you've read my A/N's…

How many South Americans does it take to change a light bulb?

A Brazilian.

Number 3: Random thought for the day…

You know, I always used to think my brain was my most important organ… then I realized who was telling me that… now I don't know what to think. #body conspiracy theory #sshh, I think my brain is listening in on this #everyone act normal

And oh yeah, the story, I guess – read on while I do this thing I want to do over here…

CHAPTER TEN

Oliver headed over to his desk, standing in front of it, and leaning back against it. "So, what do you have for me, Marcus?"

"I have a presentation," said Marcus. He quickly pulled out the laptop he'd been clutching, along with a small projector. Marcus fumbled to set it up, throwing Oliver vaguely apologetic looks in the meantime.

"No rush," Oliver reassured him. "My next meeting isn't until ten."

It didn't seem to ease Marcus' nerves though, as the younger man finally got everything set up. He picked up the remote control as an image of the world flashed up on the screen. Marcus cleared his throat. "Steven Pinker, the well-known science author, once said that 'with violence, as with so many other concerns, human nature is the problem, but human nature is also the solution." He cleared his throat again, voice sounding scratchy.

"Do you need a glass of water?" Oliver poured him one, and handed it to him.

"Thank you, sir," said Marcus, taking a quick gulp of the water.

"Oliver will be fine, Marcus."

Marcus gave another agitated nod of his head, and then sat the water down on the table his projector was resting on. "502 025 is the number of lives lost last year to guns in the US. Every day, on average, seven children are killed with guns. These figures, as horrific as they are, don't even include gun associated violence—" Marcus waved his hand around, indicating the graph now up on the wall. "The lives lost, all that potential, the remaining lives of those around them changed forever, there has to be—" He took another step, obviously intent on making his point, but Marcus' knee bumped against the coffee table his water was resting on, tipping it over, directly onto his projector. There was a popping sound, followed by a fizzing noise and the image on the wall promptly disappeared. "Oh no!" said Marcus in distress, floundering around, and desperately trying to mop up all the water. "I'm so sorry, sir."

Oliver straightened up, and walked over to him, feeling bad for how anxious the other man was. "It's fine, Marcus," he said evenly. "Just leave it. Your projector isn't going to get anymore fried at this point. The damage is done. You can still give me the presentation on your laptop, can't you?" Just as the words left Oliver's mouth, Marcus' laptop promptly threw a little orange spark, succumbing to its waterlogged state as well.

"My whole presentation was on that," said Marcus weakly, looking like he was going to be sick.

Oliver put his hand on the other man's shoulder. "Something tells me you know this presentation by heart, Marcus. Take a seat, just talk to me about your ideas. Trust me, I don't need the bells and whistles, and if your idea is any good, it doesn't need them either." Marcus let Oliver guide him over to the sofa, and Oliver undid his suit jacket button as he took a seat. He turned in his seat, resting an arm along the back of the sofa. "So, tell me your idea."

Marcus drew in a steadying breath. "Traditional forms of gun control aren't as effective as they could be because it relies on people doing the right thing. The people doing the right thing are rarely the problem when it comes to gun violence."

Oliver inclined his head. "That's true."

"Since you've taken over at Queen Consolidated, you've shown a real bent towards philanthropy, and making a difference to the disenfranchised and vulnerable amongst our society." Marcus paused. "Not that your father wasn't philanthropic," he added on rapidly. "I'm not saying that."

"I know, it's fine, go on."

"I've had this idea for a few years now, and I've only just recently figured out how to make it into a reality. I thought… hoped you'd be interested in developing it further for Queen Consolidated. It could potentially make your company a lot of money," said Marcus, voice rising with excitement, "but it could also make a huge difference to the entire world… potentially that is."

"And that idea is?" prompted Oliver.

"I've come up with this hard and software that can be implanted into any gun or rifle which can remotely disarm it."

Oliver cocked his head. "Really?"

"Yes," said Marcus, face flushed as the words tumbled out of his mouth. "Any gun fitted with this controlling device can be disabled by an app on your phone. That app will tell you immediately if your gun is being moved by someone other than yourself, and then you can disable it, completely removing its capacity for harm. Imagine it," said Marcus excited, "a shipment of arms goes missing, gets stolen, and the supplier can simply activate the app, and turn that entire shipment into worthless junk for anyone looking to sell them off, or use them for their own purposes. It gives a level of control over firearms that would be unprecedented. They say guns don't kill people, people do, when technically, it's people with guns, working guns, which do the killing. Take away the killing capacity of a gun, and you've just got a lump of plastic and metal with extremely limited ability to cause harm."

Oliver sat back in the seat, intrigued. "That could be a game changer. Over time, if all arms were produced with this technology, the ability to control gun use would be exponentially increased." His look was intent. "Could this technology be applied retrospectively to guns already out there?"

"Absolutely," said Marcus, leaning forward towards Oliver. "It'd be like those companies which can remotely unlock your car, but in reverse… and with guns."

Oliver couldn't help but think how useful this kind of tech could have been for him on more than one occasion. "Do you have the specs for all of this?"

Marcus grinned. "I do. I can email them to you anytime you like, sir."

"Oliver," he corrected him absently. "It won't mean that much to me, but I'll have an expert in all things tech related look it over." Oliver's gaze briefly wandered over to where Felicity was now sitting at her desk, working away quietly.

"Does-does that mean you're interested, sir—ah, Oliver?"

Oliver smiled. "I'm very interested. As you said, this could be a potential game changer, not just for Queen Consolidated, but the entire world. If everything checks out, that is."

"If you or your expert have any questions, just call me," said Marcus enthusiastically. "Or come down to the IT department. That's where I am. I kind of did this on my own time, you know, a pet project."

"I've had good luck with IT staff and their pet projects," said Oliver with another smile. "Hopefully that trend will continue."

"I hope so too," said Marcus with heartfelt sincerity.

Oliver stood up, and held out his hand again. "Thank you for coming to see me about this, Marcus. I'm very impressed, and hope this is the start of something very important."

Marcus jumped up and enthusiastically shook his hand. "Thank you for taking the time to see me. Jane is going to be so excited."

"Jane?"

"She's my fiancé." He grinned. "She'll be very happy to know all that time I spent hunched over a computer may be worth it. Jane's always been really supportive of my dreams."

"Well, the future Mrs. Jane Kane—" Oliver paused at the name.

"Yeah, I know," said Marcus with a lopsided smile. "She's going to marry me anyway. Must be true love, huh?"

Oliver couldn't help but smile. "Must be," he agreed in amusement.

"Jane's been with me every step of the way, even when I didn't know exactly what I was doing, she was just always there, encouraging me to be the best version I could be of myself, to never give up." Marcus wrinkled his nose. "Sorry. You probably don't need to hear all this. It's just sometimes I can't believe she's still in my life. I can get pretty obsessive about things. That can't be easy to live with." He shrugged. "But Jane stayed with me through it all. How can you not want to marry that?"

Oliver's gaze drifted once again to where Felicity was industriously working away at her desk. "How indeed," he murmured.

"You know, before she comes to her senses, and realizes she's not picking the easiest life," said Marcus wryly. "You just got to lock down someone like her before common sense prevails."

"I'm sure Jane doesn't see it that way."

"I know, that's one of the things which makes her so special." Marcus blushed a little. "Sorry," he mumbled, "again, you're probably not interested in my personal life."

"I can't fault a man for being in love, and not being afraid to show it," said Oliver calmly. "That's not a bad trait to have, trust me. Being guarded all the time can take its toll on those around you."

"It's funny, but I used to be just that around people, guarded I mean," said Marcus candidly. "But when I met Jane, all that started to change, and it kind of culminated in me asking her to marry me. You can always find a reason not to go all in with someone, but if you really love them, all those reasons kind of fade away. To be honest with you, I don't know why I didn't do it sooner. I knew she was the one for me the first time we met, I just didn't realize it. I think I fell in love with her slowly, and then all at once and ever since I realized that, everything just kind of made sense in my life, you know?"

"Actually, I do know," said Oliver slowly. It was a perfect description of him and Felicity.

"I'm babbling, aren't I?"

"No, not at all."

Marcus grimaced. "I was just really nervous about this meeting. I talk too much when I'm nervous… and occasionally throw up. I threw up three times before asking Jane to marry me. That was the most nerve wracking night of my life."

"Didn't you think she'd say yes?" asked Oliver, curious despite himself.

"In theory, yes, but the reality, when you're standing there, it's like when Jane got me that skydiving coupon for my birthday a couple of years back. There was a lot of unmanly screaming, and praying to God, any god really, until that parachute opened." A warm smile touched Marcus' lips. "But when that parachute did open, man, it was like nothing else, like I was flying and I was never going to come down."

"I'm good at jumping out of planes," remarked Oliver idly, eyes on Felicity again.

"With a parachute," corrected Marcus. "Not many people enjoy doing it without one, and that's what Jane is to me. Even if today had gone really badly, it would have been alright in the end because I had her to go home to." He gave a little shrug. "And that's everything… having that sense of home in a person."

Oliver just stared at him, knowing exactly where his home was in that moment. Maybe he'd always known, right from the beginning, that's why he'd kept circling his way back to Felicity time and time again. He was like that antsy stray cat which lingered around a house, refusing to come in at first, but slowly being lured to drop his guard as the person left out plates of milk and food for him. Felicity had been the one to show him the way to truly come home, the way to find his place in society again, not as an outsider, but as a part of something bigger than himself. Without her Oliver knew without a doubt he'd still be out in that cold, dark street, displaced from anything that felt like he could truly belong to.

"Oliver?"

Marcus' tentative saying of his name had Oliver snapping out of his wandering thoughts. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I was just asking what you'd like me to do next?"

Oliver inclined his head. "Of course. Just send me those specs, and we'll take it from there."

Marcus grinned. "Absolutely." He moved to collect his ruined laptop and projector, not seeming to mind the state they were in now.

Oliver then walked him to the elevator. "You'll hear from me soon."

"Okay, great, that's great," grinned Marcus as he stepped into the elevator. "Thanks again."

Oliver nodded as the elevator doors closed on the other man. Turning around, Oliver stuck his hands in his pockets, and sauntered over to Felicity as she still sat at her desk.

"Looks like you've made someone's day," she noted.

"Mr. Kane had floated a very interesting concept by me," said Oliver. "One I'd like your professional opinion on."

Felicity sat back in her chair. "Color me intrigued."

"Talk about it over a lunch date?"

"You already have a lunch date, and so do I."

Oliver frowned. "Who?"

"With Sales John and Accountant John."

"We have a lot of John's on the payroll, don't we?"

"More than a couple."

"But I meant who are you having lunch with?"

"My secret lover."

"Aha," said Oliver flatly. "Jokes about other men… my favorite."

Felicity laughed at his decided lack of enthusiasm. "It's funny because it's never going to happen. That's how come we can joke about it."

"Can't we do something else for fun instead?" requested Oliver. "Like, I don't know, punch me in the throat."

Felicity rolled her eyes at his melodramatics. "It's Lucius. He's in town, and we're meeting to sort out the last few details about your suit before you take it out into the field. I want to make sure every little kink is ironed out before that happens."

Oliver nodded. "Say hi to him for me, and next time he's in town maybe we can all go out for dinner."

"That's so… social of you, Oliver," said Felicity teasingly. "I'm impressed."

"I can be social," protested Oliver. "When I want to be." He gave her a warm look. "Haven't we been getting very social this last week?"

Felicity smiled up at him. "Some might say excessively so. I don't know how we managed to cram so many dates in over one week."

"Relentless dedication to the cause of getting us to twenty dates," said Oliver straight faced. "I can't make time move faster for our three week deadline, but I can sure do everything in my power to get this date quota done and dusted."

"It's soo romantic when you put it like that," said Felicity impishly.

Oliver leant over and put both of his hands on her desk, face now level with hers. "If you want romance, have dinner with me tonight," he said huskily.

Felicity smiled. "Okay, but can we go to Big Belly Burgers?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you are one cheap date," said Oliver teasingly.

"I'm craving one of their burgers… and a big plate of their fries with that awesome dipping sauce… and their pie… I hope it's apple tonight… their apple pie is the best… and maybe one of their onion blossoms… can't ever have enough of them."

Oliver gave an impish smile. "I take it back, you're not a cheap date. In fact I may have to sell off some stocks to pay for your meal at Big Belly's… or maybe I should just buy the place. That'd probably be cheaper."

Felicity stuck her tongue out at him for his teasing. "I used try and not eat much on dates, but I stopped doing that."

"Why?" asked an amused Oliver.

"I got too hungry. For the rest of the night I was just fantasizing about food." Felicity wrinkled her nose. "It wasn't good."

Oliver's gaze lingered over her beautiful face. "Well, I definitely don't want that to happen on our date," he said huskily. "I want all of your attention on me… just like all of mine is on you."

Felicity leaned on her desk, and smiled warmly up at him. "Trust me, it will be… unless the pie is apple… then it's going to be more or less equally split."

Oliver's lips twitched. "You are not great for my ego sometimes, Ms. Smoak, not if I can't beat out apple pie."

Felicity snorted. "Your ego is just fine, and it's apple pie, nobody can compete with that, and especially not with Big Belly's homemade ice cream on the side."

"I guess it's good that I know where I rank in your world… just under pie," said Oliver, straight faced.

"Not all pies," protested Felicity. "You're definitely above rhubarb pie… and peach cobbler, which I'm not sure is really still classified as pie, so it may not count—"

Marry me.

The words were right there on the tip of Oliver's tongue as Felicity rambled about her rating system of pies and where he fit into it.

"Of course there are also moon pies are another ballgame altogether. I love them and I know they're called moon pies, but really I just don't know if they can be classified as actual pies either—"

Oliver's heart was beating wildly in his chest as he realized he wanted to say those words to her more than anything else in that moment. He wanted to have endless conversations about desserts and lesbian cows and just everything for the rest of their lives.

Felicity folded her arms in front of herself, and sat back in her chair, caught up in her own back and forth. "Boy, this is way more complicated than I first gave it credit for. I'm going to have to give this a lot more consideration… plus, I really want some pie." Her attention was back on Oliver, and she frowned a little. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Oliver swallowed hard, and tried to rein in his wayward emotions, but he was struggling. He needed Felicity in his world permanently, legally required to be there by way of a marriage certificate. "Will you—" Oliver's voice cracked, and he was forced to clear his throat as he tried to stop himself from doing something he knew Felicity might regret, "will you… ah… have pie with me?" Asking Felicity to marry him out of the blue was only going to drive her away from him, seeing as she was the one who was intent on taking things slowly between them. He had to try and pull back on the breakneck speed he kept on pushing this relationship at. Easier said than done.

Felicity was looking at him in confusion. "You want pie?"

"I want pie," said Oliver with way more heartfelt emotion in that statement than was appropriate, mainly because he wasn't talking about pie.

"Since when do you like sweet things?"

"Since you."

Felicity blinked. "Me?"

"Yes," said Oliver emotionally, "you've made me wake up to the joys of sweet things and now I can't get enough of it… of them." Of you.

Felicity tilted her head, still looking perplexed. "You don't want my pie right? You'll get your own? You know my stance on sharing delicious things. Do you need me to remind you how stabby I can get when push comes to shove?" She made a jabbing motion in the air. "I have no control over it. My dessert instinct kicks in and I'm totally out of control."

"I know," said Oliver, amused by her cuteness. "I still have the indents in the back of my hand from the crab cake incident."

"You brought that on yourself," said Felicity unapologetically. "I warned you… more than once."

"Apparently I'm a slow learner."

Felicity rolled her eyes. "Apparently."

"So, that's yes to a late dinner tonight, after I do some patrolling?"

Felicity's pony tail bobbed up and down. "Yes."

"That makes eleven," said Oliver knowingly. "Past halfway. And when I win our golf rematch—" Felicity gave an inelegant snort, which Oliver ignored. "I'll get my plus five dates, which will bring us up to seventeen."

"Eleven and five is sixteen."

"Plus the golf rematch, which is a date, so that counts. That makes seventeen." Oliver blinked, thinking about that. "And, if we had the golf game tomorrow night, after we get back from seeing your mom, counting tonight as well, that means we'd be up to eighteen." His look became a little more intense. "Which means, feasibly, we could reach our twenty date quota by Thursday, if we have a breakfast date and a dinner date that night." Two days away. Oliver's stomach turned over in excitement at the thought of there being no more restrictions on their dating. He hoped that was what Felicity was waiting for to tell him properly that she loved him. Oliver knew with every cell in his body that she did, but he just really needed to hear the words from her to convince himself that this was really happening, and it wasn't some amazing dream he was going to wake up from at some point.

A slight color heated Felicity's cheeks. "Assuming you win the golf rematch," she pointed out unevenly.

"Oh, I'm going to win," said Oliver with the utmost confidence. He had to. Now that he knew what was at stake, he was going to win or die trying.

Instead of her usual smack talk associated with her miniature golf abilities and his decided lack thereof, Felicity was looking at him with a serious expression on her face. "I know what I want when I win."

"That's such an unlikely thing now, it's almost a moot point."

Instead of sassing back at his teasing, Felicity maintained an intent eye contact. "I want a free pass."

"A free pass?" Oliver gave a small frown. "About what?"

"If you find out something about me at some point, and it feels like a deal breaker, you can't," said Felicity rapidly. "Break the deal, I mean. You have to give me a free pass."

Oliver was still confused. "Felicity, there is nothing you could have done in your past that would make me rethink us being together. I don't care what it is."

"You say that now, but you don't know, down the line, something could come up that I did before I met you—"

"What could possibly come up?" he asked in exasperation. "Felicity, look at my past, and how you've dealt with it all, even when it put your own life in danger. Just how big of an ass would I have to be to hold anything you have or haven't done in your life to date, no matter what it is?"

"Mm," murmured Felicity, not looking completely convinced. "But I still get my free pass, right? You can't think less of me."

"This is crazy, but fine, you get a free pass, not that you need it, or that you're going to win."

Felicity looked relieved, and now Oliver was very curious as to what it was Felicity was thinking she could possibly need a free pass for. Considering his life, and the horrors he'd been actively involved in, it was very hard to conceive of something comparable in Felicity's life. Even if there was, Oliver wouldn't care. Whatever had Felicity had done or not done in her past, it had helped shaped the woman he was insanely in love with. "So, tomorrow night? Miniature golf rematch date night?" Oliver hesitated, a smile hovering around his lips. "He said, uttering words he never thought he'd say in his life."

"Oh, it's on," said Felicity, slipping back into her smug superiority. "It's the onnest of the on."

Oliver grinned. He couldn't wait. Now, he just had to teach himself how not to suck at miniature golf in the next twenty four hours in amongst his fully scheduled day.

No problem.

A/N: Just a little a/n here, more of an observation really, but I really like on the show how Oliver, despite all he's gone through, is a nurturer by nature. He loves to take people under his wing and mentor them, help them realize their potential – a potential he sees instinctively, another one of his gifts. I like being able to highlight that about Oliver. He really does get a kick out of seeing people coming into their own, he's not threatened by it at all. And that, my dear ducklings, is the mark of a real man. Well, one of the marks, anyways. This thing with Marcus is more than just a way to stall the Olicity pay off with filling up chapters (although that is a collateral convenience, I won't lie). It has long ranging implications for more than one character in this story and the next. So, there is that.

Oh, BTW, I've tweaked with the story summaries for this story and SWB's to try and make them more enticing for people to start reading. Fanfic-addict very kindly helped me out with that – thanks, FFA! If you have a spare few seconds, could some of you maybe check them out and give me your feedback. I really am tragic at summaries – word limits and me aren't friends. I know it's hard to get that first time reaction, but I'd appreciate any notes people might be prepared to give. Thanks. :D