Author's Note:This story gets us into Season 5, right after Oliver has begun seeing the reporter, Susan Williams, for drinks. I'm pushing the physics metaphor (this one's really about chemistry and even then...) but, hey, what the hell. This is also a bit of a behemoth. So, if you like a long chapter, you're in for a treat.

Covalent bonds: The strongest form of bond between atoms when joining to make molecules. The atoms share their electrons to complete their outer shells. Alone, the atoms are unstable because the shells are incomplete. When joined by covalent bonds, they become stable and are difficult to separate from each other.

Water is formed by the covalent bonding of hydrogen and oxygen.

Susan Williams wasn't entirely sure what she'd intended when she reached out to Oliver Queen and offered him friendship and a willing ear. It would be a lie to say that there was no self-serving motive at all in her proposal. She was a reporter and the man was a story - he was many stories. He'd been a public figure for over a decade; a billionaire, the CEO of Queen Consolidated, and the survivor of a shipwreck that stranded him for five years on a deserted island. He'd lost his father in that wreck and had seen his mother murdered in front of him. And now, against all odds, he was the city's mayor. She wanted to understand what drove him - what had happened to change him from a reckless and irresponsible youth to a determined leader at not much past the age of thirty. Being in his confidence might give her answers, and it would sure as hell give her a leg up on the other reporters on the City Hall beat.

On the other hand, it would also be a lie to say there was no altruism whatsoever in her offer. The day she'd first suggested they sit down over a drink and talk off the record, Oliver had looked as though he'd lost his best friend and had his puppy kicked, all in the space of an hour. Susan had been covering local politics for enough years to know how lonely it could be for the person at the top. You rarely received credit when something was a success, but when it failed it was entirely your fault. No one had your back or did you a favor without expecting something in return. When she'd reached out to Oliver, it really had been to give him the opportunity to unload for an hour or two, with no strings attached.

Of course, the fact that he was sex on a stick hadn't hurt either. Susan had no doubt that if Oliver wanted to blow off steam by something other than talking, she would be able to oblige with that, too. Hell, you could learn a lot about a man by how he managed things in bed.

All of which put her in something of a quandary. That talk one night over a drink had grown into a series of nights, and recently they'd begun adding dinner to the evening's activities as well. Oliver, while not exactly spilling his guts, was beginning to open up – just a little. He talked about his relationship with his sister and what it had been like growing up in the Queen family. He talked about trying to follow in his father's footsteps as CEO of Queen Consolidated. Most of all, he talked about his hopes for Star City. With a soft smile crinkling his blue eyes, he told Susan he wanted to see all residents with a chance at a good education and a decent job, no matter what part of the city they were from. He wanted the hospital to have the latest in life-saving equipment and the police department to have paid overtime for its officers. He used words like fair and safe and secure and really meant them. It was clear that when it came to his city, he spoke from the heart.

And to her surprise – regardless of what she'd originally intended - Susan found herself beginning to like Oliver Queen. A lot. As in like-like. As in when the hell are you going to kiss me – like. She could feel herself losing objectivity when it came to him – something she should not be doing as a reporter. She wanted him to succeed, not only because it would be good for the city but because it would make him happy and the man was just so damned…decent…that he deserved a little happiness. The fact that he couldn't catch a break seemed unfair. The current City Council, for example, was one of the most obstinate she'd seen in all the time she'd covered city politics They greeted every bill proposed by Oliver with skepticism and suspicion and tried to thwart him at every turn. He put in terribly long days at City Hall preparing for Council meetings, and when he would meet her for drinks late in the evening he often seemed physically spent. If you didn't know he was the mayor, you might have thought the man had been out running a marathon rather than sitting in an office. Nothing came easy.

The most recent calamity was a series of emails purported to be from Oliver to various City Council members, demanding favorable votes on his proposals in exchange for services for their districts. The story broke one morning as he and Susan were having coffee at a local diner. Oliver was completely blindsided; the two of them watched in stunned silence as a Star City television station aired excerpts from his supposed emails. Several Councilmen were interviewed, declaring their outrage and already calling for Oliver's resignation.

"What the hell?" Oliver nearly dropped his coffee in his lap as he watched the television. He turned to stare at Susan across the table. "This isn't true – I didn't send those emails." After a few seconds he added, "Please tell me you had nothing to do with this story."

She shook her head blankly. "I didn't, Oliver. I'm hearing it for the first time, too."

"And please tell me you don't believe it."

She reached over to squeeze his hand. "I don't, Oliver. I know you well enough to be certain you wouldn't do something like this." And I'll look like a complete idiot to my producers if it turns out to be true and I missed the story, she thought.

She was rewarded by one of Oliver's brief but genuine smiles, making her glad she'd supported him. He picked up his phone and tapped it hard to make a call. "Speedy," he said tersely after a few seconds, "are you watching the news?"

Susan recognized Oliver's nickname for his sister and could hear the faint murmur of Thea Queen's voice on the other end of the call. Whatever Thea was saying, it couldn't have been good because Oliver's face grew darker and he rested his forehead briefly in one hand.

"Of course, I didn't send them," he said impatiently, "but apparently someone went to a lot of trouble to make it look as though I did." He exhaled heavily in frustration. "The timing couldn't be worse – you know we're trying to secure funding for the computer lab in the Glades high school. Now the budget committee won't approve a thing until there's an inquiry into the alleged coercion." He closed his eyes and listened once more. "Yes," he agreed shortly, "I'm on my way right now. I'll be there in fifteen." He pocketed his phone and rose quickly from the diner's booth, throwing some cash on the table. "I'm sorry to cut it short," he said to Susan, "but as you can see, we've got an emergency. I'll call you later."

"Can I tag along?" The words were out of her mouth before she had time to think about them.

He hesitated and gave her a conflicted look.

"Not as a reporter," she assured him, "but maybe to help? An inquiry will take months. If we can find the people who really sent the emails, it'll clear you and you can move forward with your plans for the Glades school. I admit, it will also make a better story for me, but that's not why I'm offering." When he continued to appear undecided, she added, "Look, Oliver, I want computers for the students in the Glades, too. We're on the same side on this one."

He gazed at her for a few more seconds and then seemed to make up his mind. There was gratitude in his eyes when he said, "Well, if that's the case, I can use all the help I can get. Thank you, Susan." He held out his hand and she took it as she rose from her seat. She felt a small, pleasurable jolt as he closed his fingers lightly around hers, and even more satisfaction when he didn't let go for the entire cab ride to City Hall. They'd never held hands before, and as juvenile as it sounded, she felt like it signaled some kind of step forward in their relationship. Up until this point they'd been friends. This…this seemed to herald the potential for something more. Susan felt an urge to smile, despite the stress of the moment. Only Oliver Queen could make holding hands feel this sexy.

Thea Queen was in Oliver's office when they arrived, pacing nervously back and forth. She moved forward to greet Oliver but then stopped when she saw Susan. "Ollie…" she began, eyeing the reporter suspiciously.

He cut her off. "Susan is here to help, Speedy. She believes the emails are fake and she's a good investigator. We need to get to the bottom of this."

His sister didn't look convinced. "You know she played me before, Ollie." She gave Susan another sharp look. "Even though you two seem to have some sort of thing going at the moment, she's a reporter first and foremost. She may mean it now about helping, but I'm pretty sure she'll sell you out for the right story. I don't trust her."

Oliver squared his jaw stubbornly. "Well, I do, Thea. And I think I know her well enough now to be sure of it." When his sister continued to regard him skeptically, he added, "Look, we don't have time to argue. Even if you refuse to believe she has good intentions, how much worse can she make it? The story's already out there. Does it matter if she reports on our efforts to find out who's behind the emails?"

Thea frowned and Susan wasn't sure whether to laugh or be angry. Oliver's argument wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement of her character (although she got a strange thrill when he said he trusted her), but the logic seemed to work with Thea. After a few seconds, Oliver's sister shrugged and said shortly, "Fine. It's your call, anyway. You're the mayor."

"Good." Oliver walked over to Thea and rested his hand lightly on her shoulder. "Now - have our IT people had a chance to look into the emails?"

Thea nodded. "They checked the servers. Those emails are definitely in your outbound folder. It really looks like they came from you, Ollie.

Oliver closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you think we should call…" he began.

"Already called her."

"Thanks."

Already called who, Susan wondered? A private investigator? A public relations specialist? Whoever it was, Oliver must have thought she could do something about this mess because he immediately began glancing at his watch. After five minutes he asked Thea, "When did you call?"

"Right after you and I talked on the phone, about twenty minutes ago. She said she'd come straight over."

"Great." The tension in his jaw eased a little but his eyes returned impatiently to his watch.

The lady must be some kind of miracle worker, Susan thought, given how badly Oliver wants her here. She couldn't recall him having a crisis management expert, but maybe that's because she hadn't seen him the midst of a big enough crisis. After another five, tense minutes, Susan heard rapid footsteps approaching from down the hall and watched Oliver lift his eyes eagerly to the doorway.

A rather small, blonde woman entered the office. Susan definitely had not seen her among Oliver's staff before and was immediately taken aback by how young she was. She'd been expecting a tough, middle-aged businesswoman in a dark suit, and it would be a stretch to place this girl in her mid-twenties. Her ponytail, glasses and sleeveless print dress made Susan think of a wholesome college student, although she was forced to reconsider that theory when the blonde marched up to Oliver with an air of confidence that suggested she had managed crises before. In covering City Hall, Susan believed she'd met all of Oliver's spokespeople, yet she'd never encountered this woman. And, at any rate, the girl didn't have the look of one of Oliver's mayoral team; she appeared too fresh, too unguarded, and far too familiar with Oliver. So what on earth was her role? And why did Oliver react the way he did to her? Susan could have sworn he relaxed visibly as she walked up to him, as if he truly believed this little blonde could fix his very big problem. Clearly, they'd been through other catastrophes together.

She expected Oliver to re-tell the story of the emails, but all he said to the woman was, "You saw the news?"

The blonde nodded and then tilted her head toward the computer on his desk. "I'll take a look in a minute. Any idea of who might be behind it? It'll give me a place to start."

Oliver shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. I heard the story along with everyone else this morning."

The woman frowned, but didn't look surprised. "Okay. Let's see what your computer can tell me." She walked over to his desk.

"Do you need my email pass-"

She gave him a withering look. "Seriously, Oliver?"

He sighed. "Right. What was I thinking?"

The blonde sat in Oliver's chair and began typing. So she was an IT specialist. Susan took another minute to study her, narrowing her eyes a little at the way the girl had taken over the room – or at least had taken over Oliver's attention. She was an unusual blend of characteristics; her fresh, natural beauty made her look as if she'd been plucked from a women's beach volleyball poster (height notwithstanding), but she clearly had brains and experience. For some reason, Susan found her a bit…annoying. This was the mayor's office, after all, where people typically showed a little deference, and this girl had blonded in as if she owned the place. Oliver must have noticed Susan's curious expression because he gestured briefly to the woman. "Susan, this is Felicity Smoak." When the blonde looked up, Oliver continued, "Felicity, this is Susan Williams." Felicity gave Susan a brief stare before turning back to the computer and continuing her rapid strokes on the keyboard.

Felicity Smoak. Aha. Some of the pieces fell into place for Susan. Felicity Smoak; former CEO of Palmer Technologies, recognized computer expert and - more importantly - Oliver's fiancée…well, ex-fiancee now. The reporter was surprised she hadn't recognized the lovely Ms. Smoak when she'd walked in, but then the Felicity sitting in Oliver's chair looked different from the one Susan had seen in the news. In photos taken at various functions during Oliver's mayoral campaign, Felicity had skipped the glasses, worn designer dresses, and arranged her hair in a soft updo. She'd looked a little more mature and a lot less edgy, a softer version of the woman sitting in the office now. At this moment, she was all business. Susan recalled that Felicity had nearly been killed as the result of an assassination attempt on Oliver late last year and wondered whether that had anything to do with her attitude. She certainly appeared to have recovered physically; she looked fit, her bare arms toned and her complexion beautiful. Overall, she was an attractive young woman. Still…she didn't seem like Oliver's type, if Oliver had a type. In her mind, Susan always saw Oliver with someone taller, darker and more sultry. Someone more like Susan, as a matter of fact.

"The emails definitely came from your account, Oliver," Felicity announced, lifting her hands from the keyboard and leaning back in the Mayor's chair. "I looked for backdoors and alternate IP addresses and there are none."

Oliver stared at her. "You think someone got my password?"

Felicity shook her head. "By guessing it? Doubtful. It's a long, complex one. Even an automated algorithm would take months to figure it out." For the first time since she'd arrived, she grinned at Oliver, revealing a pair of dimples and a set of very white teeth. "I'm glad to see you haven't forgotten all my IT security lessons."

"You guessed the password," Susan pointed out to her.

Felicity nodded. "True, but that's because Oliver is still using his old convention for cycling through his passwords. It's pretty personal. You'd have to know him really well to…" She flushed and stopped speaking, suddenly staring down at the keyboard. Susan noticed Oliver flushing slightly as well. What the hell was this password naming convention, she wondered? Anniversary dates from when they were dating? Favorite sex positions?

A thought suddenly occurred to her.

She walked over to Oliver and tugged gently on his arm. "Can we have a word in private?" she asked quietly. Both Thea and Felicity gave her a curious look, but neither said anything.

Oliver also appeared puzzled as well as reluctant. His brow furrowed and he said grudgingly, "If you want." He glanced briefly at Felicity, but she had returned her attention to the computer, so with a shrug he allowed Susan to lead him out of the office. He forced them both to a stop a few yards down the hall.

"What is it?" he asked curtly, looking back toward his office door. "If you haven't noticed, Susan, we're a little busy trying to figure out who's sending bogus emails on my behalf."

She decided to ignore his curtness. He was under stress, after all. "I know," Susan replied mildly. "And I have an idea of who it could be." He raised his eyebrows and she took a deep breath. "Did it occur to you that it might be Felicity?"

"What?" Oliver's faced darkened instantly as he stared at her. Then he shook his head. "Not a chance."

"Think about it," Susan continued. "The pieces are all in place. She's an IT expert. She knows your password – which even she says would be nearly impossible for anyone to guess. And the emails were sent from your account – your own IT people confirmed that. It would be easy for her."

Oliver shook his head again, more firmly this time. "There's no way. I agree Felicity has the capability to do anything with a computer, but what would her motive be, Susan? As long as I've known her, she and I have wanted the same things for Star City. She was supportive of my mayoral campaign, even after she'd been shot. She wants to see me succeed, and she continues to fight every night for…" he stopped abruptly and gazed down the hallway, composing himself. "It's not her," he said shortly.

"Oliver…"

"Susan," he said, and for the first time since she'd known him, the reporter thought she saw a flash of real anger in his eyes, "it's not her. I know Felicity like I know my own soul and there's no way she would do this. So, drop it."

"You broke off your engagement, Oliver. Women do strange things when their relationships fall apart. It's not unheard of for a woman to seek revenge. Maybe she blames your job as mayor for the separation."

Oliver turned to face her and there was no mistaking his anger this time. "I said drop it, Susan. First of all, Felicity called off the engagement, not me. And second, she's not that petty. She's one of the most honorable people I know. If you see any good in me now, it's because Felicity helped put it there." And with that, he spun on his heel and headed back to his office. Susan stared after him before following gingerly in his wake. She realized that Oliver Queen could be a little frightening when he was angry.

By the time she walked back into his office, Oliver was standing behind Felicity's chair, resting his hand on the back of it. The two of them seemed accustomed to the pose – Susan would bet they'd done this before. The blonde was pointing out something to him on the monitor and he was leaning forward over her shoulder to read it. Susan noticed Oliver twice pick up his hand and begin to place it on the back of Felicity's neck, only to change his mind and return it to the chair. Felicity seemed oblivious to the gesture.

"They used a key-logger," she said to him. "It's basically recording all your key strokes and sending them back to someone. That would include your email password. Given that your email's internet accessible, it pretty much grants them free rein to read and send."

Thea frowned. "How would the key-logger get onto Ollie's computer?"

Felicity looked up at her. "There's a couple of ways. It could have been installed as malware if Oliver clicked on a phishing email. Your brother is pretty savvy about these things, though, so I think it's more likely someone just walked into his office and uploaded it."

Oliver sighed. "Oh great. There's only about three dozen people with access to this office, including the cleaning crew. And any one of those people might just be a puppet - paid by someone else to do it. It'll take forever to figure out who's really sending the emails." He stepped away from behind the chair to face Felicity. "Can you remove it, at least?"

She nodded. "Of course, I can. However, you might want to leave it there for a little while longer."

"Because?"

"Because I can figure out where the keystrokes are being sent and then we'll know who's really generating the bogus emails. I put some tracer code on your computer. If you change your password, whoever's doing this is going to have to come back to the key logs to get the new password. When he or she does…bam! We follow the trail. Shouldn't take more than a day or two."

Oliver stared at her for a few seconds and then smiled – the first truly happy smile Susan had seen from him all morning. "Let's do it. Thank you, Felicity."

"De nada."

The pair gazed at each other and Susan got the sense of some kind of unspoken conversation passing between them. She realized that however much she thought she knew Oliver Queen, there were facets of his personality she'd never seen. Facets that this blonde woman apparently knew intimately.

Felicity rose abruptly from her chair, ending their silent discussion. "I'll call you when I've got something," she said quickly. Grabbing her purse, she headed for the door. She gave Susan one more sideways glance before disappearing down the hall with a click of her high heels.

Oliver's confidence in Felicity's computer skills was not misplaced. In a couple of days she'd traced the key logs back to one of the City Council members, and a little creative hacking confirmed the man to be the source of the bogus emails. Susan did some additional digging and discovered that he was in league with a local real estate developer whose proposal to tear down the Glades high school and begin a gentrification project had been rejected by Oliver months ago. As mayor, Oliver's goal was to improve the Glades while keeping it affordable for the people already living there. The gentrification project would have created new, expensive housing, forcing the current residents to move out. There would have been great profits for the developer and a decent kickback to the Councilman – but no benefit at all to the people in the Glades.

It made for a great investigative story and Susan ended up the exclusive, much her producers' delight. For nearly a week she owned the Star City news, telling viewers about the Councilman's false emails and his ties to the wealthy real estate developer. Her station's ratings sky-rocketed and her journalistic skills were applauded. Even better, Oliver's reputation was restored, and he was happy – so happy that after celebrating with her over dinner and a bottle of wine, he went to her apartment and she received that long awaited kiss and then some. It turned out that Oliver Queen definitely did not disappoint in the bedroom.

That celebratory night broke the ice, so to speak, and since then he'd been a semi-regular visitor to her place. There was no pattern to when he stayed. Some weeks were busy and he didn't come at all, and other weeks he might be there three times. It was unpredictable, but it was enough for Susan. She wasn't ready for a full-on commitment either, and they spent enough time together for her to feel confident that he wasn't seeing anyone else. He was passionate and enthusiastic and things were good – they were very good.

There was just one fly in the ointment. One small, very blonde fly.

Because, much to Susan's disappointment, it also turned out that Oliver was one of those men who remained good friends with his ex. It took her a while to figure that out. She'd always assumed that the phone calls he both made and received at odd hours had something to do with his job as mayor. After all, they were generally brief and business-like, and often seemed to hint at some emergency or other. But after that day in his office - seeing the way he and Felicity Smoak looked at one another and seemed fully caught up on each other's lives – she began to wonder. And after a month of wondering, she decided to check.

It wasn't easy. She had to get over her qualms about acting like a reporter when she'd sworn to Oliver that she wouldn't use their relationship as an opportunity to investigate him. Even more challenging (although less noble) was the fact that he guarded his phone as if it contained the keys to the nuclear launch codes. It was nearly always in his pocket, and he even took it into the bathroom with him when he showered. It was only when she woke one morning at 2:00 am for a quick pee and noticed it on the bedside table that she had the chance to examine it. Moving as quietly as possible since Oliver was a light sleeper, she picked the phone up and scrolled through his call log. She felt a little guilty, but reminded herself that she was growing closer to the man and had a right to know who she was getting involved with. His call history surprised her, and not in a good way.

There were several calls to or from Felicity Smoak on that day alone. As there were on the day before, and the day before that. In fact, there was enough cellular traffic between the two of them that Susan wondered whether they were on the same Friends and Family plan. Feeling more justified, Susan turned her attention to Oliver's texts, but found he had deleted nearly all his history. There was only one short message from Felicity earlier that evening saying: Curtis found it. Will talk to you tomorrow. It was, admittedly, an entirely unromantic text. Still - talk to you tomorrow? And who the hell was Curtis?

Unable to sleep, Susan stewed over Oliver's call history for the rest of the night. When he awoke early at 5:00 am, as he typically did, he widened his eyes when he saw her propped up against the pillows, reading the news on her tablet.

"You're up early," he said softly.

Susan nodded curtly. "Couldn't sleep."

He heard the tension in her voice. It was hard to miss, really. "Is something wrong?"

She glanced down at him and sighed. "I don't know," she said a little more evenly. "Maybe."

Oliver rolled over onto his stomach, turning his head on the pillow to face her. "Talk to me."

He said it so kindly and looked so sexy that she suddenly felt reluctant to confront him about his calls to Felicity and potentially start a fight. Still, she had to know. They were becoming close and she had a right to understand if she was at risk of being hurt. She sat a little straighter in the bed and refused to be distracted by the warmth in his eyes or the muscles flexing in his back. "How often do you talk to Felicity?"

"What?" He clearly was caught off guard by the question.

"How often do you talk to Felicity?" She tried to keep the suspicion out of her voice.

He shrugged. "I don't know. A few times a week, I suppose."

Susan felt something in her harden. That statement was a blatant lie. "A few times a week? Oliver, I looked at your call log. You talk to her a few times a day."

The warmth left his eyes, replaced by distrust and even a little pain. He pushed himself into a sitting position alongside her in the bed. "You looked at my phone?" he asked flatly. "I thought we were at the point in our relationship where I could trust you weren't going to investigate me."

Susan sighed and shook her head. "I'm not investigating you…at least not as a reporter." When he gave her an incredulous look she continued, "I have a right to know what I'm getting into, Oliver. You and I – this thing between us is starting to feel like a real relationship. That day in your office when Felicity was helping with the emails, I was surprised to see that you two seemed like you were still…close." She closed her eyes briefly. "So I wouldn't be human if I didn't wonder about it. And now I see that you talk to her every day. That's a lot of calls to someone who is supposed to be your ex. If I'm just a diversion while you and she work things out, Oliver, I have a right to know that."

He stared at her for a moment, and then to her surprise, smiled. "Susan, are you jealous?"

She frowned. "No, of course not." She paused and then amended, "Well, maybe a little. The two of you have a lot of history, and when I saw how pretty she is and how smart she is…I wouldn't be human if I didn't wonder."

Oliver's smile grew broader, and he reached over to pull her into his arms. "Susan, I told you that day that Felicity and I want the same things for Star City. We have some…projects…that we work on together to help the city. They started years ago, when we first met, and they're still continuing. When she and I talk on the phone, it's about those projects – that's all. There's nothing else between us."

Susan ran her hand along his heavily-muscled bicep. "Projects to help the city? Shouldn't they be managed out of City Hall, now that you're the mayor? Why keep working them on the side like this?" The minute the question was out of her mouth, she wished she could take it back. Because if she made Oliver think too much about it, he might decide to hire Felicity as part of his staff - and daily phone calls would be replaced by daily meetings with his pretty, young ex."

Fortunately, Oliver didn't take her suggestion seriously. "Things are working fine the way they are," he said easily. "Why mess with it?" He ran one hand lightly down her bare back, stopping to cup her butt cheek lightly. "And talking about messing around...Since we're both awake and neither of us have to be at work for a couple of hours…" He began kissing her neck, and then quickly flipped them both over until she was on her back and he lay poised above her.

Susan glanced briefly at his face before allowing herself over to close her eyes and run her hands up and down his back. As always, Oliver was skilled and considerate in bed and she could feel things beginning to build toward a climax. She felt lucky to on the receiving end of his attraction and attention.

She only wished she hadn't noticed that fleeting, wistful look that came into his eyes each time she mentioned Felicity Smoak's name.

A few weeks went by and Oliver was true to his word when it came to Felicity. The former couple continued to talk regularly, but Susan never got any sense that their discussions were about more than the "projects" Oliver had said they shared. Whatever those projects were, they rarely necessitated Felicity coming to the mayor's office. Susan saw the blonde once or twice in passing, but that was all. She began to feel more secure about her relationship with Oliver.

One relatively calm Wednesday she decided to surprise him by bringing lunch to his office in City Hall. It seemed like a good plan; he often forgot to eat when he worked through the noon hour, and she knew he loved the food from Big Belly Burger (even though he bemoaned the fat and salt). He was sitting at his desk behind a stack of papers when she arrived, and his eyes lit up when he saw her – and the bag of burgers and fries.

"Well, hello," he said with a smile. He pointed to the bag. "Big Belly?"

She nodded, smiling back. "I figured you could use a break, and I knew you wouldn't bother to get lunch on your own."

"How thoughtful of you. I trust you got a burger for yourself, so I'll have company in my sinful, high caloric meal?"

"I don't think you need to worry about the calories, Oliver. You're in terrific shape, especially for a man who has a desk job. But, yes, I got a burger for myself. I even got a shake."

"Great. Drag that other chair over here and let's eat."

She followed his instructions and soon they were diving into their burgers and talking easily. Susan felt happy. It was good to see Oliver relaxed and contented, and it gave her tremendous pleasure to know she was the reason for his current good mood. They were discussing their plans for the upcoming weekend when she heard a low rumble and felt the floor tremble.

Oliver froze instantly. "Did you feel that?"

Susan nodded. "Yes. Do you think it was an earthquake?"

"I don't know."

They stared blankly at each other and waited anxiously for a second tremor. Thankfully, one didn't come. Susan was just beginning to breathe normally again when the phone on Oliver's desk lit up, followed by the urgent sound of sirens outside and the angry buzz of his mobile. All at once, it seemed like everyone was trying to reach the mayor's office. Oliver glanced briefly at his cell but opted to answer the desk phone, his duties as mayor taking priority. "Yes?" he said, his hand white-knuckled on the receiver.

There was a long pause while he listened. Susan watched his brow furrow and his eyes narrow in concern. "I see," he said after a moment. "Do we know how many are hurt?" There was another lengthy pause. "Okay. Please keep me posted, especially if you get any information on who might be behind it. I'll head down there in a little while. I don't want to disrupt the rescue efforts."

He put down the phone and ran his hand over his face wearily. "There was a bomb planted in the police station," he explained to Susan, his voice shaking slightly. "That's the noise we heard and the vibration we felt. Someone tried to blow up the station." He shook his head in disbelief and Susan could see a tiny bit of moisture in the corner of his eyes. She was struck once more by how deeply he loved his city and how personally he took its hurts. His cell phone began vibrating furiously again. He glanced briefly at it, but didn't answer.

"Do they know," Susan said gently, "do they know if anyone was killed?" She'd almost asked do they know how many were killed, but had stopped herself just in time. Even though it was hard to believe that everyone in the station could have survived a blast felt four blocks away, there was no point in driving that point home. Oliver had enough to deal with; she didn't want to make it any worse.

He shrugged helplessly. "They don't know yet. They think there might be additional devices hidden so they're sending in the bomb squad and the dogs to clear the station before they'll let the paramedics in to check. We probably won't know for another hour." He exhaled loudly in frustration.

"Ollie?"

Susan and Oliver both looked up to see Thea standing in the doorway. Susan was surprised by the young woman's expression. If Oliver was shaken by the bombing, Thea looked completely distraught - although her pain appeared to be on her brother's behalf rather than her own. She peered at Oliver anxiously, almost cautiously, as if she thought he might fall apart. There was tremendous sorrow in her eyes.

"Thea," Oliver said reassuringly, "it's not an earthquake. I just spoke with the police chief. Someone exploded a bomb in the SCPD station a few blocks away. It's bad, but it's not a repeat of four years ago."

She didn't acknowledge his statement. Instead, she pointed at his cell phone, still vibrating on the desk. "You're not answering your phone. Curtis has been trying to call you."

Oliver shook his head. "I'll talk to Curtis later. This isn't the time, Speedy…"

She cut him off. "Curtis has been trying to call you," she continued in an unsteady voice, "to tell you that he thinks Felicity was…is…in the police station. She went there to have lunch with Detective Malone about twenty minutes before the bomb went off. Curtis tried calling her right after the explosion, but her cell just keeps flipping to voicemail. We don't know if…" her voice trailed off.

Oliver stared at his sister and went still – so still that for a few seconds Susan believed he didn't understand what Thea had just told him. His face was blank, as if translating her words into English from a foreign language. She could almost see when those words sunk in because the blank look became an expression of fear, of truly naked despair. He glanced blindly at his desk, and at his still-vibrating cell phone.

Then he moved into action as if someone had flipped a switch.

He picked up the phone. "Curtis," he said crisply into it, "Talk to me. Do you know which floor Malone's desk is on?" He listened intently and then continued in a business-like voice, "Good. Bring the floor plan to the station. And don't bother to call the team – it'll take them too long to get there. I can be at the station in five minutes if I run. I'll meet you at the South entrance." He ended the call and looked up at his sister. "I'm going to the station to get Felicity out," he said calmly, as if telling her he was headed to the store for a loaf of bread. "Can you keep trying to call her? You might actually get through to her phone and if she's conscious, she can tell us exactly where she is." He paused, then added, "And maybe you should call Digg as well. He would want to know about this."

Thea nodded, and didn't seem surprised by his plan. Like Oliver, she looked better now that she had something to do. She headed out of his office, cell phone raised to her ear.

Susan, on the other hand, couldn't believe what she was hearing. Less than five minutes ago Oliver had told her that the police thought there still might be explosives in the station and had called in the bomb squad to check. Now he was planning to go there – to go inside? As Oliver pulled off his tie and started moving toward his office doorway, she grabbed his arm. "Oliver," she said urgently, "What are you doing? You just told me the bomb squad needs to clear the station. You can't go in there yet. Wait until they've done their job – then you can go in and find her."

He shrugged her hand off and barely looked at her. "Felicity could be bleeding out," he said shortly. "I can't wait an hour for the station to be cleared. She could be dead by then."

"Oliver…"

"I'll call you later."

And he was gone, running down the hallway.

It took Susan twenty minutes to walk the four blocks from City Hall to the police station. Like most disasters, it was a scene of organized chaos; cruisers parked with their lights flashing, ambulances ready to take the injured to the hospital, and police on foot everywhere – talking over the radio and on cell phones, their faces narrowed in concern for their fellow officers still inside the building. There were barricades all around the station to keep the public at a safe distance, and Susan wondered how or even if Oliver had managed to slip by them. As mayor, he was very recognizable. She searched the crowd for his face but couldn't find him among the more than hundred people milling about.

She decided to position herself such that she could see as many entrances to the building as possible. If Oliver had somehow made it into the station, then he would be coming back out through one of those doors. It seemed the best way to find him. She edged her way through the crowd until she was able to see both the front and side entrances, and then elbowed her way up to one of the barriers. The bomb squad appeared to be using the front door. She watched a couple of men in blast-suits go in, one with a bomb-sniffing dog on a leash. She was encouraged to hear that a number of the officers who were in the building at the time of the blast had managed to get out on their own. Unfortunately, there was no sign of Felicity.

After what felt like an eternity but was less than ten minutes, she saw the alleyway door open and a man come out, carrying a woman in his arms. The man's face and hair were covered in dust and the woman was wrapped in his suit jacket, but there was no mistaking Oliver and Felicity. He walked carefully down the stairs, holding her as if she were made of glass. Reaching the alley, he moved quickly through the shadows until he reached the sidewalk and then the crowd barrier, passing by it to be absorbed into the mass of people watching the station. Straining to keep him in sight, Susan saw him greet two African-American men; both tall, one on the slighter side with glasses and the other looking strong enough to lift a car. The three men gazed at Felicity, lying limp in Oliver's arms, and appeared to have a discussion. Then Oliver nodded and headed purposefully toward the ambulances. Susan called out his name and tried to move to meet him, but before she could get close Oliver was inside the ambulance and the door was closing. He was still holding Felicity, and he never once looked up.

She turned back in the direction of the two African-American men, surprised to see that the strong one had already vanished. The slighter one was exiting the crowd, moving toward the street. He was almost in the clear when Susan caught up with him.

"Are you Curtis?"

The man looked at her in surprise. There was a flash of recognition in his eyes before he nodded his head. "I am. And you're Oliver's…friend, Susan Williams."

"Yes. Is Felicity all right?" There didn't seem to be any point in wasting time on introductions or pretending they both didn't know what Oliver had just done.

Curtis shrugged. "We think so…we think she just has a concussion. Oliver's getting her to the hospital now to be sure."

Susan shook her head. "I can't believe he went in there. He could have been killed. The bomb squad hasn't cleared the place."

Curtis gave her a small smile. "Well, it was Felicity, after all," he replied, as if that explained everything. When she narrowed her eyes in confusion he added, "They have a lot of history."

"Still…"

"If it's any reassurance, if their positions had been reversed, I'm pretty sure she would have done the same for him."

"But they broke their engagement months ago. They're not a couple."

"No," he agreed, "they're not a couple." He gazed off in the distance for a few seconds before returning his eyes to hers. "Oliver and Felicity – it's hard to explain. They're something besides a couple, something…stronger. I've only known them for about a year, but I'm convinced that Oliver and Felicity together form a complete…" he struggled for a word, "being. When they work together, amazing things happen." He suddenly seemed to remember who he was speaking to and stopped abruptly. "Don't mind me," he said apologetically, "I'm just rambling. It's been a difficult day, and it's not over yet." He glanced down the street. "I really should be going. It was nice meeting you." And with a polite nod, he walked away.

Susan watched him go, with a sinking feeling in her heart.

Susan didn't hear from Oliver for over 24 hours. He was tied up the rest of the day of the explosion, talking to the police chief, fielding calls from the governor's office, and refusing to leave until the status of everyone in the building was known. He had waved to Susan briefly from inside the crowd barriers, but hadn't walked over to talk to her. In the end, eight people had lost their lives and another two dozen were badly injured. Fortunately, as Oliver had suspected, Felicity had made it through the ordeal with only a bad concussion. The hospital kept her overnight for observation and released her the next morning. Susan suspected Oliver had spent the night at the hospital.

It wasn't until the evening of the day after the bombing that Susan had the chance to talk to Oliver. She'd been busy herself, broadcasting for most of that morning from in front of the police station. The work had been helpful. It had kept her from thinking about things too much, from thinking about Oliver too much. He arrived at her apartment a little after 9:00 pm. By then, she'd had a few hours to reflect in the quiet of her home. Susan was a big believer in trusting her instincts - they were part of being a good reporter. They helped her find stories and they helped her during interviews. She'd often thought her intuition was as good as any mechanical lie detector. She could tell when people weren't being honest, even with themselves.

Oliver walked in with a weary look on his face. "God, it's good to see you." When she glanced up but didn't answer, he added, "I'm sorry to have been out of pocket for the last day. It's been pretty crazy, and it's probably going to stay that way for the next couple of weeks. I was hoping you wouldn't mind if we just went straight to bed tonight. I could use a friend and some sleep."

His blue eyes were looking at her hopefully and Susan felt her resolutions start to melt. She'd spent the early evening rehearsing what she had to do, but now that the moment had come she wasn't sure she had the strength to do it. Oliver Queen was smart and sexy and it would be so much easier just to say yes. But it would be a lie – even if Oliver didn't know it.

She took a deep breath. "I don't think that's a good idea, Oliver," she said with forced calm. She pointed to the small bag she had packed containing his toiletries and spare clothing. "I think it's time we stopped pretending that this thing between us is anything more than it is – a diversion. We should stop acting as if we have any kind of a future."

Oliver frowned, and a confused, hurt look came into his eyes. "Susan, I don't understand…" he began.

"I think we should stop seeing each other, Oliver."

He sat down heavily on the sofa, as if someone had knocked his feet out from under him. "Is this because I went to get Felicity after the bomb yesterday?" he asked, puzzled. "Please don't read too much into that. We're friends – we've known each other for five years – and I couldn't let her die. It doesn't mean there's something more between us. Hell, she has a boyfriend now." He raised both hands to press his temples in a gesture of frustration. "Susan – you and I - we're good together. This," he pointed back and forth between them, "is good."

Susan wanted to believe it. She wanted so badly to believe him. But her instincts, her damned reporter's instincts were telling her something different. She could feel the moisture pooling in her eyes and she dabbed at them shakily. "Tell me, Oliver. Do you ever envision a time in the future when Felicity is not a part of your life?" she asked. "Or is she always there, no matter what the circumstances?"

"I don't think…" Oliver started, and then stopped. He looked at Susan, surprised, and she could see that he had never thought about it – at least never in that way before. Then he slowly lowered his gaze to the floor.

"That's what I thought."

"Susan…"

She shook her head. "Don't apologize, Oliver. It's who you are – who you both are. You can't change it, even if you want to. The only bad thing would be pretending that's not the case."

He stared at her for a long moment. She could read the confusion, regret and pain in his eyes. But she also thought she could see a little hope. She wondered how long it would take him to bring this argument to Felicity and convince her that they belonged together. He slowly rose from the couch and picked up the overnight bag. "Goodbye, Susan."

"Goodbye, Oliver."

She was not surprised when, six months later, there was an announcement from the Mayor's office saying that Oliver Queen was once again engaged to Felicity Smoak.