Chapter: 34 - File Decryption and Recovery
Word Count: 3726

Notes: I am completely blown away by the reviews and comments I've received on the last chapter. Life has been hectic and insane, but I've read them all and I appreciate them more than you all could ever imagine. You're absolutely amazing, each and every one of you. :)

This chapter will answer some of the questions I think you've had recently. This one was difficult because of what I did, but I'm pleased with the end result. Reviews/comments are awesome (and read, even if I don't have time to answer), but thanks for just reading this much! :)

On another note, there will be no new chapter next week. It's Thanksgiving here in the US and I'm going to be on the road, so I'll see you guys again in December, and we'll pick up with the same every Thursday update schedule then. I'm taking a one week hiatus for the holidays, but then we'll return.

Felicity is almost asleep when she hears him murmur goodnight, and then the words are out of her mouth without thinking: "Goodnight, Oliver." She doesn't even realize she's said them, but then he tenses, holding his breath.

She pulls back immediately, cursing her particularly wild, uncontrollable mouth for this one. She always said it would get her into trouble, and this just proves it. "I'm sorry," she says immediately, "I should have—" She bites her lip, unsure of what she should have done. "I wanted to wait until you were ready to know, I swear." She sits up, and he follows as she crosses her legs beneath her, prepared to explain her deception. "I should have told you when I figured it out, but I thought you didn't want me to know, and—"

"Felicity," he cuts her off gently, though she notes that he isn't smiling. He seems to war with an idea, with his next words before they finally come out as, "How long have you known?"

She bites her lip for a long moment. "It's kind of a long story," she warns him, but he waves a hand to assure her he's ready to hear. "I had my first questions about you being the Arrow," she starts quietly, "during the thing at Verdant, when the club caught fire. You walked by one of the flames, and I saw what color your eyes were, and the thought occurred to me." She shakes her head, chuckling a little. "But then I thought that was ridiculous, because I equated you—Oliver-you—with being someone who sat on an island for five years, roasting lizards to eat and drinking from coconuts." She looks at him carefully to make sure she hasn't offended him, only to find that he's trying to fight a smile, meaning she's in good territory.

She takes a deep breath. "So I pushed the thought away. Then I found that Diggle was your associate, and I thought it was interesting that both of us knew Oliver-you and ended up working for the Arrow." She waves a hand. "But Diggle is ex-military and you've turned me into a hacker along the way, so I didn't think much about it. I thought you were collecting allies based on skill, and, well, the Queen family employs over a hundred thousand people in this city in some way or another, so I pushed it aside.

"And then Arrow-you did so many things that reminded me of Oliver-you, but I just couldn't reconcile the fact that Oliver-you could fight, could use a bow." She waves a hand, motioning to the way he's dressed now. "Oliver-you doesn't seem as… heroic as this side of you." She chuckles, rubbing at the back of her head. "But I guess you meant it that way so that you wouldn't be suspected."

She points a finger at him. "But then things happened with Tommy's dad, and I knew something was different when you gave him your name right away." She shook her head. "You didn't do that with me, and I'd bet you didn't do that with Diggle, either. So I just figured you had to know him."

She bites her lip again. "And then he made that comment about not trusting you," she says finally. "I saw your face fall, and I knew it hurt you. So Tommy had to mean something to you—to be someone close to you—because his dig was enough to hurt you." She shrugs. "At that point, it was obvious. Tommy has one close friend, and I couldn't deny it any longer. And it explains all the things I didn't understand before, like the way Saphira reacted to you. And the whole thing between you and Helena. And so many other things."

He's so quiet for a moment that she decides he isn't going to speak. She reaches a hand out slowly, her fingers touching the fabric of the hood for the very first time. "Is it okay if I…?" she asks hesitantly, and he nods in response, his mouth set into a grim line. For a moment, Felicity wonders why he seems so glum, but then she knows he'll reveal his secrets when he's ready.

He always has before.

Her hands pull back the hood slowly, and he doesn't move, letting her lower it. The mask comes off next, and she finds her hands shaking. Sure, she knew it was Oliver when she started this endeavor, but knowing something and seeing something, she decides, are two very different things.

He won't look at her, though, even as he turns off the voice modulator. Finally he says in a very low voice, "But I don't understand." He sounds confused, his brow furrowing as though she's the biggest contradiction he's ever met. "You're still here."

It's her turn to be confused, watching him with narrowed eyebrows before asking, "Where else would I be?"

"I thought you would be angry," he tries again, studying her expression as if he's waiting for the dam to break and all the emotion to come out at once. It would be comical under different circumstances, Felicity thinks; the big, bad Arrow is afraid that a little blonde IT girl will yell at him.

"Oh, I was furious," she answers instantly, nodding her head. He flinches, clearly expecting more. "That's why I didn't talk to you on the car ride to the hospital—I was thinking of ways to yell at you." She waves a hand. "I wasn't mad at you for protecting your identity—I understand that—but I..." She hesitates before selecting her next words. "I thought you were leading me on—that I was just another girl in Oliver Queen's revolving door of women." He opens his mouth to speak, but she holds up an index finger with her most intimidating don't-you-dare-talk face, and his mouth closes immediately. "But then I thought about it before confronting you, and I realized that if that was the case, you wouldn't have kissed me as the Arrow—you would have made that move as yourself." A nervous laugh escapes her. "And then, after the anger faded—that was probably the mint chocolate chip ice cream I was stress-eating when you were there that night—and I realized it made things easier for me." She bites her lip, and he urges her on with his eyes. "It was going to be difficult to explain that I had feelings for both of you."

He just marvels at her for a long moment before pulling off his gloves, then reaches out to touch her face with one of the most glorious smiles Felicity has ever seen on his face. "The worst part of deceiving you," Oliver says quietly, rubbing his thumb across her cheekbone, "is that I can't ever touch you the way I want." It takes her a minute, but she realizes that this is the first time he's ever touched her face without gloves, and a warm, callused thumb runs across her cheekbone. "I thought you would run," he admits finally. "That you would hate me for lying to you and I would lose you."

"Hey," she answers sharply, tilting his face so that he's looking at her. "That is never going to happen." She shakes her head. "You're not going to lose me."

Just like that, he kisses her again, this one new and familiar all at once. She knows the way his mouth feels against hers, but the desperation from before is gone, as though he's finally accepting that there is nothing he could do to scare her off, to make her run from him. He's gentle this time, and there's no heat to the feeling, just the bliss of having each other.

When they break apart, he unzips the jacket to expose a black t-shirt much like the one she stole from his storage cabinet only moments ago. When Felicity nestles back under the blankets, Oliver slides under them, pulling her in tight as he did only moments ago. But now there's no tension, no looming sense of guilt caused by the secrets they were both keeping.

Felicity doesn't think she's ever felt so safe before; Oliver's arm drapes over her waist, and hers falls over his. Her nose presses into the fabric of his shirt, and she can feel his chin above her head.

"I know I'm being overprotective," he says to her in a low, quiet voice, "but I'm only trying to keep you safe." It sounds almost apologetic, and Felicity understands: he doesn't mean to seem demanding, but, at the same time, her safety is important to him.

She frowns, pursing her lips slightly. "I know you are," she assures him, "but I don't understand why she would choose to come after me." Oliver tenses ever so slightly, and she knows for certain now that there is something he isn't telling her. She chuckles slightly. "I mean, I'm just some random blonde she met at a party once." She remembers the term Diggle muttered under his breath earlier. "I guess Digg was right—she is your 'psycho ex-girlfriend.'"

"That was the night that Helena ended things with me," he answers slowly, and her eyes go wide. They had seemed very much together in that point in time; she always assumed that Oliver had been the one to end things. "She told me she felt betrayed because I was interested in someone other than her." He allows himself a soft sound of amusement, one so low that Felicity feels it in his chest rather than hears it, and then he pulls back ever so slightly so that he can look at her. "Even then," he offers slowly in a quiet tone, "she knew I was in love with you. She knew before I did."

It's funny, Felicity marvels for a small moment, how one simple, four-letter word can turn her world upside-down. Her breath hitches as the L-word leaves his lips, though there's really no reason for it; she's known about his feelings for a very long time—both as the Arrow and as Oliver Queen. But, like with the difference between knowing the Arrow's identity and seeing Oliver under the hood, knowing and confirming it are two very different things.

It takes her a moment to regain the ability to speak, and she watches Oliver's carefully guarded expression, unsure of how she'll respond to his confession of sorts. "Well," she offers a little flippantly, "it took me longer to realize I was in love with you, but, in my defense, I did think you were two different people." She taps her chin absently. "This is going to make for an interesting, 'How did you meet?' story one day."

This time his chuckle is warm, louder, and he pulls her hand away from her chin to weave his fingers through hers. He places a soft kiss to her jaw before pulling her back against him, and she nestles back in his arms.

Finally, he says to her once again, "I don't deserve you." It's the first time she's ever heard it without the synthesizer, and so it's the first time that she's ever heard the genuine remorse in his voice. It's as if he wishes he was worth her, but thinks he's a lost cause, as if he shouldn't be worthy of anyone's love or consideration.

It kind of breaks her heart.

"There is nothing in this world you could have done," she states flatly, and she feels him flinch as some of those things probably run through his mind, "that could possibly make you deserve misery." She tightens the arm wrapped around his middle. "You deserve happiness—we both do." She's almost glad he can't see her face when she adds, "And being with you—helping you and loving you—makes me happy. So don't treat this relationship like I have one foot out the door. I'm not going anywhere."

"Neither am I," he answers her with certainty, and she smiles against him. They're a team—as well as partners, friends, and lovers—and they've always managed to figure everything out together. She doubts that Helena will be the exception that will break them, and suddenly having the huntress on her trail doesn't scare Felicity so much.

After all, she's not facing this alone.

John Diggle considers himself to have pretty good instincts; after all, he survived Afghanistan and a career in military, and his instincts have kept him alive thus far in Oliver's crusade. He's learned to trust those instincts because of it, so when they tell him that something very nasty is about to hit the proverbial fan, he knows that dread is probably deserved.

Since Oliver has spent most of the day and the afternoon preparing the club for opening, Diggle is the one to drive Felicity back to the lair, against her loud protests. Despite understanding the situation that Oliver's psycho ex-girlfriend has created for them, she's voiced several times that she doesn't like the heavy level of protection that Oliver has demanded. But Diggle knows what Helena is capable of, so he goes along with the plan despite his understanding of Felicity's disdain.

When they enter the lair, he finally says to her, as carefully as possible, "He cares about you." Truthfully, he thinks Oliver was half in love with the girl by the time Digg even joined their crusade, but that's a story to tell when the two have actually realized they're in this for the long haul. It's probably a lame defense of Oliver's character, though it's the only one Diggle can offer. He's heard the phrase "crazy for her" before, but Oliver takes it to an entirely new level; he's known for drastic measures and overreaction when Felicity is added to the mix. Admittedly, Felicity isn't much better; one moment she's saving his life, and the next, she's yelling at him.

They're crazy for each other.

"I know that," she assures Diggle quickly, "but this is a new level of Oliver's extreme, insane overreaction." A smile quirks her lips up slightly. "I mean, this ranks right up there with the I-can't-tell-you-my-identity-because-you'll-run thing. I may start a list of Oliver overreactions." She thinks about it for a moment. "The alliteration alone gives it a nice ring."

"Well, in his defense," Diggle starts and Felicity raises an eyebrow that makes him revise the rest of his statement with a chuckle. "You know how much I hate to defend him because the boy's an idiot sometimes, but..." With a smile, he starts again. "In his defense, I thought you'd run, too." He studies her for a moment. "I'm kind of glad you didn't—it's hard enough to deal with his brooding ass as it is."

Surprisingly, Felicity seems to be taking the revelation rather well, even joking about it. Oliver had been training on the salmon ladder when Diggle had walked in early that morning to get his employer and friend, so he had naturally assumed that Felicity had walked out because of the lie. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised to find her sleeping on the cot in the corner—well, pretending to sleep; her eyes were focused on Oliver and his exercise with rapt attention. She'd looked almost disappointed when he dropped and pulled on his shirt, starting to discuss the club opening with Diggle.

Felicity actually chuckles at that last statement, knowing that it's said with equal parts affection and exasperation—a mix of emotion familiar to anyone who deals with Oliver, apparently. "I like his brooding ass," she asserts, then goes crimson before Diggle can even lift an eyebrow in question. "I mean the collective—the same way you used it. Not his actual ass in the appreciative sense. Even though I do like his ass, brooding or not." She closes her eyes, tilting her head ever so slightly. "And you did not need to know that."

"I didn't," Diggle agrees stoically, nodding.

"Speaking of," she tries this time, seeming to have collected herself from the ramble, "where is our fearless leader?" Diggle likes the level of sarcasm in her voice; they seem to band together against their "fearless leader," despite the fact that she's dating him. Somehow, it has yet to be awkward in their base of operations because of Oliver and Felicity's relationship—they seem to accept their roles and fall into step as they did before.

"Upstairs at the club opening," he answers. "He said you were welcome to join him, but I figured it wasn't your scene." He shrugs. "You don't seem like the clubbing type."

"No kidding," she mutters as she slides into her chair at the computer desk. "I'd prefer to be handed to the psycho ex-girlfriend, I think," she answers dryly, and Diggle can't help but chuckle. Even though there's nothing about Helena that merits joking, he understands it's the only way she can keep from panicking about the situation. It's not so scary if she can make a flippant joke about it, and so he lets her.

"Clearly said by someone who's never met her," Diggle answers in a similar tone. "She may look like the T-Mobile girl, but with the personality of her mob boss father—and crazy as hell."

"And here I thought you didn't care for me," a sickly sweet female voice says from behind them, and Diggle doesn't hesitate to pull the gun from his holster, sliding over toward Felicity. He turns to face her, frowning when he sees Oliver and Tommy behind her. She's apparently been extended an invitation, much to Diggle's chagrin.

"Still don't," Diggle answers quickly, which causes her to smile at him. It's more like a predatory smirk, as though she's a cat who has cornered a mouse. He really doesn't like that look.

Before anything else can be said, Felicity brushes past the same psychopath that has been stalking her this week to go to Tommy. For the first time, Diggle realizes that the Merlyn heir is clutching his wrist. "What happened to you? That doesn't look good," she says to him, frowning.

"She happened to me," Tommy spits with a glare at Helena, and Diggle knows the feeling well. Oliver's eyes narrow at the words—or Felicity's attention to his best friend; Diggle never quite knows for sure—but an impassive expression remains on his face. Clearly he isn't thrilled about this latest development, either, but Helena was always an expert at finding Oliver's weak points.

"It's a severe sprain," Oliver says finally. "There may be some torn tendons and ligaments, but nothing is broken. I checked." Felicity nods once, touches his arm as though to say, It's not your fault, and then turns her attention back to their friend.

"Come on, let's get that patched up," Felicity says to Tommy gently, guiding him toward the medical cabinets. "I think we have some splints around here somewhere. I'll brace it for you."

"You know how to do that?" Diggle hears Tommy ask, and he turns his focus to Oliver and his psycho ex-girlfriend with a frown. She's found some way to leverage Oliver, no doubt, but that doesn't mean that Diggle is going to let him walk into some sort of trap alone.

As if to answer Diggle's silent question, Oliver states calmly, "We're going to help Helena break her father out of Witness Protection." His expression is a warning to Diggle not to argue, and he abides it just this once, as there are more important things to discuss right now.

"They have two vans," Helena offers, "both traveling to two different locations. This will be our only opportunity to grab him—after this, he disappears into WitSec forever." She crosses her arms firmly. "And that isn't an option."

"Well, at least that means I won't be hacking into the US Marshall Service servers," Felicity mutters absently. "By the time this is all over, I'd like to say that I've left one government database still intact." She isn't even looking at them, eyes focused solely on Tommy's sprained wrist. Because of that, she misses Helena's piercing, hawk-like focus on her, as though she's filing away that information for later. Diggle, however, does not.

Diggle isn't the only one who notices Helena's new focus. "Felicity," Oliver starts, perhaps a little to sharply, judging by the way Felicity's head snaps up. "Maybe you should take the rest of the night off." It's a demand and a question all at once, a loaded look in his expression that Diggle recognizes almost as quickly as Felicity. She frowns at him and looks as though she's about to argue, but Oliver places his hand on her shoulder gently. "Please," Diggle watches him say to her, his voice so low he can't hear it, and a firm nod is the only response Felicity gives before getting up, though her expression tells both men that Oliver will most certainly hear about this later.

Oliver presses a set of keys into her hand, and Diggle realizes that the man is giving his very upset girlfriend the keys to his Maserati, in an impressive display of either bravery or stupidity. Felicity comes to the same conclusion with wide eyes, and Oliver shakes his head ever so slightly. From the angle, Helena probably hasn't seen the exchange, so Oliver probably wants to keep it that way.

They wait until she shuts the door—perhaps a little loudly—to continue the conversation, and Helena casually says, "Well, now I see why you're so interested—she has a skill set you can use." She crosses her arms, her mouth turning down into a sour expression. "And that's what you do—you use women. I wonder how long it will be until your pretty little hacker comes to the same conclusion." She tilts her head to the side thoughtfully. "If she's been with you all these months, probably not long now."

Oliver grabs the green suit from the table and his bow from its stand. "Let's get your father," is all he says, "and then you can get out of my city." He turns to her then. "And if I ever see you lurking in Starling's streets after this, I will put an arrow in you."

Diggle thinks he might be serious this time.

Playlist:

"Don't Let Me Be Lonely" - The Band Perry
"Just Give Me a Reason" - P!nk feat. Nate Ruess
"If I Didn't Have You" - Thompson Square
"Fall for You" - Secondhand Serenade
"That's Where You Take Me" - Britney Spears (works beautifully for the kiss scene)
"Miserable at Best" - Mayday Parade

Friendly reminder that there's no new chapter next week. See you guys again December 4th!