Oliver was asleep beside me when I woke up the next morning, just as the first light was creeping onto the horizon. He lay on the bed beside me, above the blankets and fully clothed, and I shook my head. This couldn't seriously be happening.

I lay on my side for a few seconds, head propped on my hand, and studied him. He looked so peaceful, the hard line of his jaw softened in sleep. I risked extending a hand and touched his stubble, following his jaw line, up over defined cheekbones and a strong nose. I paused at his lips, considering the kiss outside my bedroom door.

Ray can't know.

The hell he couldn't. I still didn't really understand that; what hold did Ray think he had over me? The conversation between Mara and my mother from the vision came back to me: He understands me in ways no one else ever will.

Had he really had a relationship with a sixteen-year-old girl? Just because she looked like Rose?

Beside me, Oliver opened his eyes, stretched, and rolled to look at me, his head pillowed on his arm.

"Sorry, I couldn't handle another night in that chair. I hope this is all right."

"You could have slept in your bed," I said.

"You said you didn't want to be alone," he pointed out simply, like it was no big deal at all to forego yet another night's sleep just for me. "Besides, after that last vision I wasn't all that eager to leave you."

"It was kind of intense," I agreed.

"You, Felicity Smoak, have a penchant for understatement," he said with a smile, then hesitated. "Listen, what happened before—with the, uh…kiss…"

I nodded quickly. I'd been waiting for this conversation, had a reply all canned and ready to go. "I know – it was a really crazy day, emotions were heightened with Reggie dying and the police and everything else – trust me, it's totally understandable. I just happened to be there at the—"

He stopped me before I could finish the sentence, in the least expected way possible: he leaned in, and kissed me. "That's not what I was going to say," he said, his lips still on mine. He pulled back just slightly, eyebrows raised. "May I finish?"

I nodded again, mute.

He pulled back and wet his lips, considering, before he spoke. "You're right: it was a crazy day, and emotions were heightened. But it wasn't just because you happened to be there... I meant what I said last night, Felicity: you took me by surprise. You take me by surprise, all the time."

"And that's a good thing," I said, not exactly sure where he was going with this.

"It's a new thing." He took a breath, and released it slowly. We were still close, not quite touching but near enough that I could feel his warmth, his strength. I waited for him to continue, but instead he leaned in and kissed me again, more slowly this time. I opened when his tongue touched the seam of my lips, a little purr escaping before I could stop it. His hand slid to the back of my head, his fingers twined in my hair as I wrapped my arms around him. I winced when he pulled a little too much, sending a jolt of pain. He stopped abruptly and sat up, tensed.

"What just happened?" he asked.

"What do you mean? The kiss - do you really need me to explain that? Because frankly it seems like you have a little more experience in that department than I do."

"Not that." He touched my head again, his hand sliding to the back of my skull where he probed for a few seconds before I yelped and pulled away.

"Ow!"

I sat up, putting my hand to the spot where his had just been. At the back of my head, I felt a bump – a big one, egg-shaped and tender. Oliver was watching my every move, and I froze when his gaze fell to my neck.

"Your throat—" he said.

I put my hand to the area and swallowed experimentally. My throat hurt, my voice still a little raspy, I'd just been too preoccupied to notice till then. "It was a little sore last night," I said.

"There are bruises." He looked closer, paling visibly. "Fingerprints. In your vision last night, what happened to Rose?"

"Slade choked her," I said. The words were barely a whisper. "He had her around the throat. And then in the fight, she got thrown into the wall. Knocked out."

"She hit her head," he said. I nodded. "And you have a bump. Bruises where Slade's hand would have been."

"But it was just a vision." I felt sick.

"This has never happened before?"

"No. I just – I have the visions, and afterward I'm tired. Sometimes I have a headache. But what happens to the girl in the vision doesn't happen to me – how could it? It doesn't make any sense."

Breathing was becoming an issue, the simple act of inhale and exhale somehow beyond me. Oliver pulled himself back from whatever was going through his own head, and took my hands in his.

"Easy. You're okay."

"That's easy for you to say, you're immortal. I have visions of six girls who died tragic, early deaths – and apparently now, whatever happens to them in the vision happens to me. What happens if I see them die?"

"We'll figure this out." He squeezed my hands, but the way he looked at me had changed, somehow. He was cooler, suddenly professional. Distant. "We'll talk to Willa, and see if she has any ideas. Everything will be all right."

He let go of my hands, and stood abruptly. It was like the whole room had been doused with cold water. "I should go. I'll talk to Willa, and as soon as you're dressed you should go see her. I want her to look at those bruises, and do a thorough exam after that."

I fought the mental whiplash brought on by his about-face. "Um – okay. Whenever she gets here—"

"I'm pretty sure she's already here," he said. "She spends most nights with Quentin."

"Since when?" I asked, eyebrows up.

"A while," he said dismissively, never even coming close to a smile. "I need to run a few errands, and I should definitely get out of here before anyone sees me coming out of your room. I should be back before Roy and Sara get here, but if I'm not, wait for me before going out."

"Oliver—"

He held up a hand to stop me, a hint of regret crossing his face before it vanished. "I'm sorry," he said. "You were right, earlier: I never should have let things go this far. I like you, Felicity." His voice lingered on the words, slow and punishing. "But you need to keep your head in the game right now, and so do I. Moira was right to include the clause about romance, I think. And even if she wasn't, now that it's there you can't risk Malcolm finding out…"

I nodded numbly, fighting tears that I refused to let him see. "Yeah, of course," I agreed. "You're right – this whole thing was ridiculous anyway. You and me." I shook my head, rolling my eyes. "How crazy is that?"

"I didn't mean it like that," he said. His voice, his eyes, his manner, all softened marginally.

"It's fine, Oliver," I said lightly. "So we kissed a little." A lot. "It's not like we had sex or something. Just forget it – go, run your errands. I need to get my day going anyway."

He nodded and turned to leave, but hesitated at the door. "Felicity—"

"Just go, Oliver." My voice broke on the words. I turned away, my gaze locked on the window. Another five interminable seconds passed before I finally heard the door open and close, and he was gone.

The second I knew I was alone, the flood gates opened. It was so stupid. I was twenty-two years old; all we'd done was kiss. And okay, yes: I didn't have a lot of experience with that kind of thing. There was another foster kid at one of the homes I stayed at when I was seventeen, who inexplicably didn't trigger any visions when we touched… We'd fooled around a little before the foster parents found out and booted both of us. Since then, though, I'd steered clear of romance. It was a distraction, something meant for other people; never for me.

I'm trying to be a better man, Oliver had told me, in this very room.

He could do a lot of damage to someone as trusting as you. That was what Ray had said. And now here I was, sobbing like a schoolgirl. Apparently, he was right.

I gave myself ten minutes to freak out and curse the name of all hot men on the planet before I pulled myself together. I showered and dressed, studying the bruises around my throat in the bathroom mirror. They were already fading, and it felt like the bump at the back of my head was healing fast as well. So, maybe if I had this weird sympathy response to the girls in my visions, it was short-lasting enough to do no real damage.

At least, I really hoped so.

When I felt like a moderately normal human being again, I went downstairs to find Willa waiting for me in the kitchen. Quentin had already started a fire in the potbelly stove by the breakfast nook, and Raisa was making enough food for an army. I noted with a combination of relief and foreboding that there was no sign of Oliver.

"Eggs this morning, Miss Felicity?" Raisa asked.

"That would be great, but only if you drop the Miss and just start calling me Felicity," I said.

She nodded with a smile. "Of course. I can serve in the dining room, or—"

"The breakfast nook is fine," I said quickly. "And I can serve myself."

I stood by the fire warming my hands, and Willa joined me in short order.

"Oliver mentioned you had some trouble last night."

"A little, yes," I agreed.

"I can take a look at you in the study."

I grimaced. "Just look here – there's nothing new to see, apart from the bruises." I pulled down the collar of my shirt to let her look. She studied them, palpating gently before shifting her attention to the bump on my head.

"And nothing like this ever happened before?" she asked quietly. Raisa was still at the stove, while Quentin had a pot of coffee and set it on the table for us.

I shook my head. "No. I've had headaches and fatigue after the visions before, but never bruises or head bumps."

She nodded, considering this.

"Do you think this has something to do with what Damian Dahrk did the night before last – the modified spell?" I asked.

"I honestly don't know," she admitted, looking a bit pained. "I'll need to do some research, reach out to some friends. In the meantime, you need to be extra careful. Oliver will be monitoring you, but you should stay close to the house in case something happens."

"I can't do that," I said immediately. "I have—"

Before I could finish the sentence, I heard the front door open. I expected Oliver, but a minute later was surprised to hear female voices chattering before Sara and - to my great surprise - Thea, appeared in the doorway.

"Sorry if we're early," Sara said, looking around at the surprised faces in the room. "I had to make a pre-dawn run to the mainland this morning, and Thea hitched a ride back. She said it would be okay…"

"Of course," I said, recovering after a second. "It's – it's great. It's good. Sorry, did I know you were coming?" I asked Thea.

"It's what we talked about," she said. "Yesterday, before the..." She paled, and I hurried to fill the silence that followed.

"I didn't expect you, but I'm glad you're here. Do you want food? Raisa made…" I hesitated, realizing how rude it was to just assume there was enough when someone else had done the cooking. I looked at Raisa. "Is there…?"

"There's plenty," she assured me with a smile. "We may want to move to the dining room after all, however."

"Good idea," I agreed.

"Hey, sweetheart," Quentin said, with a welcoming grin. He gave Sara a hug, then shot a concerned look at Thea. "I thought you were supposed to be in the hospital."

Thea shrugged, then winced at the gesture. Her arm was in a sling and she still looked pale, but otherwise she seemed all right considering what had happened just twenty-four hours before.

"That would have been my father's preference," she agreed. "But I'm fine – honestly, the doctors said I'll be back in tip-top shape in no time. The bullet just grazed me."

"There was a lot of blood for just being grazed," I said.

She shrugged, still trying to be cavalier, but this time when our eyes met I saw the pain there. Her eyes filled. "I just…" Her voice broke. "I really wanted to come back here."

"It's okay," I said. Against all rational thought, blind to the consequences, I pulled her into a hug. She wrapped her good arm around me and rested her chin on my shoulder...and nothing happened.

No vision.

No flash from the past.

No voices.

Nothing.

I pulled away despite myself, the lack of visions almost as unnerving as having them.

"I'm sorry," Thea said, brushing the tears from her eyes. "I totally didn't plan on coming here and falling apart. I've just been fighting with my dad about everything, and my arm really hurts, and Reggie…." She trailed off, tears welling once more, but then gathered her resolve and met my eye.

"Anyway, I figured…screw it. I really liked what we were talking about before everything happened yesterday – the plans you have for the grounds, I mean, and I just got kicked out of another school and it's too late in the school year to enroll me somewhere else, so…" She took a deep, shaky breath. "I thought I'd come here and throw myself at your mercy. I don't have a lot of practical experience when it comes to weeding or growing things or whatever, but I definitely know how to throw a party. So…can you use me?"

She looked at me with such naked hope that I couldn't help but smile.

"What about Malcolm, though? He's against this, I would assume," I said.

"Oh, totally," she said, waving her hand like it was nothing. "Yeah, he's losing his mind right now. But he knows where I am, and I'm eighteen in a month. What's he going to do?"

I didn't really want to think about that question too much. Still, there was no clause in my agreement that said I couldn't have company at the house, and my mother had clearly been fond of Thea.

"Screw it," I finally murmured. "If your dad wants to throw more of a fit than he's already throwing, I guess that's his prerogative."

"So I can stay?"

I shrugged, and was immediately swept into another hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you – I promise you won't regret it."

I wasn't sure I believed that, but this was the first shot at family I'd ever had. I wasn't going to throw that away just because Malcolm Merlyn kind of freaked me out.

"So, how do we get started?" Sara asked. She'd been looking on, not all that comfortable with all the hugging and tears by the look of her. Personally, I was grateful to get back to business.

"Well – let's eat first, and then Oliver, Roy, and possibly Dig should be joining us soon."

"Roy - you mean that guy who was with us yesterday? He's doing this too?" Thea asked, eyes wide, the picture of innocence.

"Please," Sara said, rolling her eyes. "She hasn't shut up about the guy since I picked her up this morning."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Thea said.

"All right, ladies," Quentin said, interrupting with a clap of his hands as he gestured toward the dining room. "Food's getting cold, and I'm starved. If you're eating with us, breakfast is served."

Thea and Sara followed him toward the dining room, but Willa stopped me with a hand on my arm.

"Oliver suggested a thorough exam was in order," she started.

"I'm fine," I said. "Better than fine, actually – I haven't had a vision since the one last night, even when Willa was hugging me. I'm okay."

She looked doubtful. "If that changes…"

"I'll let you know," I assured her. "I'm sure it won't last, but for now I plan to take advantage of every second of peace I can get."

She smiled, and surprised me by patting my cheek gently. "That sounds like a fine idea. But be warned: I know Damian Dahrk. He may have given you a reprieve while you work to recover a memory of the stone, but he won't let you go so easily."

"I know," I agreed. "We'll figure it out, though. I promise."

"Aye," she said, with a brisk nod. Something about the way she looked at me, however, her eyes distant and a certain sadness to her manner, made me think that she didn't believe me.

Dig and Roy showed up at the manor a few minutes later, and were more than happy to join the rest of us for breakfast. The dining room was buzzing, the table filled, and I love the easy laughter, the casual camaraderie that already existed between most of them.

Thea and I were outsiders, but my cousin had no trouble endearing herself to the group. She hopped up more than once to help Raisa serve, until finally Roy bodily pushed her into the chair beside him.

"You're hurt," he said firmly. "You should be resting."

She blushed, her eyes lowered for a second before she pulled herself together. "Yes, sir," she murmured.

Quentin and Sara regaled us with stories from when he was on the police force working on the mainland, and then Dig picked up with his own stories of his stint in the Army. His job after that was a mystery, but it seemed to revolve around exotic locales and a lot of answers that began and ended with, "Sorry, that's need to know."

By nine o'clock, Oliver still hadn't returned and I was starting to get worried. Despite Raisa's protests, we all helped with clearing and clean up, and then reconvened in the dining room at nine-fifteen.

I handed out copies of my plan for the grounds to each of the members of my team, already thinking of things I wanted to add for each of them.

"This will be a lot of work," I told them.

Willa and Quentin had stayed, seated together at one end of the table, close but not touching. I loved the casual way they leaned in to one another to share a whispered comment, as though no boundary existed between the two. Roy and Thea sat on one side of the table, Dig and Sara on the other.

"I know you guys all have other things going on," I continued.

"I don't," Thea piped up.

"Fair enough," I said. "Well, most of you have other things going on. If we can work up a weekly schedule, I can get a sense of how much time you can devote to this." I paused. "For the record, you will be getting paid."

Thea looked at me in surprise. "They will?"

"Not everyone can kick all their commitments to the curb for charity, Trust Fund," Roy said dryly. Thea shot him a look.

"I'll have you know, I don't get my trust fund till I'm twenty-one," she said haughtily. "I may not know what it's like to have a job, but I know all too well how it feels to have somebody else pulling the strings for every meal you eat, every dress you buy."

"Well, you have a job now," I said, before anyone could call her on the comment.

"I'm getting paid too?"

"As long as you do the work," I warned. "No special considerations just because you're family. I spoke with Quentin, and we've budgeted $1500 a week for each of you, for the next three months. Since some of you have other jobs, payment is based on tasks completed rather than hours you put in."

"Fifteen hundred a week," Sara said, looking shocked. "You're serious?"

"You'll all be responsible for a different part of the grounds, but we'll work together on the greenhouse," I said. "Considering all that you'll be doing, you'll definitely earn that money."

"Can I have the grounds around the house?" Thea asked immediately. "I was thinking we could put up bird feeders, maybe even a feeding station for the deer and any other wildlife."

Roy and I exchanged a look, but I struggled to be diplomatic when I replied. She really wanted to do good for this place, I was sure of it – sometimes, it's just hard to know where to begin.

"Instead of bird feeders, let's talk about the plants most beneficial to the wildlife year round," I said. I paused, making a concerted effort not to go into lecture mode. "When people start putting out bird feeders, it creates an imbalance: birds and other wildlife congregate in one area; they neglect the things they'd eat naturally in favor of the quick-and-easy food that's handy."

"Which means the feeding area becomes a nexus for disease," Roy picked up. I was pleased to note that he stayed level, open. "You get outbreaks of mange, mites, and even rabies if you have animals like foxes and raccoons in the area. If you plant for wildlife instead, focusing on long-term balance, then everyone gets taken care of, there are no population explosions within a single species, and the food sources don't dry up – even if the people in the area move away."

Thea considered this. "So that means not even a single, cute little red mushroom hummingbird feeder?" she asked hopefully.

"How about quince trees instead," I said. "I promise, the hummingbirds won't be disappointed."

By the time Oliver finally showed up at nine-thirty, I was dying to just get everyone outside already. My eagerness took a backseat when he came into the room, however, thanks to the black eye and bloodied lip he was sporting. He nodded toward the door without answering anyone's questions, barely acknowledging the others.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked me.

The others exchanged significant glances, but no one commented. I followed Oliver out of the dining room and into the hallway, closing the door gently behind me to avoid being overheard.

"What the hell happened to you?" I asked, reaching up to touch a finger to his eye. He backed away before I could make contact and I dropped my hand, stung.

"Have you had any more of the visions like last night?" he asked.

"I haven't had any more visions, period," I said. "Did you talk to Ray?"

He looked away. "We talked," he said shortly. "He said Damian may have worked some mojo to make your visions more selective, and more powerful."

"So, I won't have as many, but the ones I have will knock me on my ass," I translated.

"I think that's a fair expectation."

"Okay," I said, then shrugged. "Well… I guess I'll deal with that when it happens."

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go out there," he said. "You need to stay close to home, where medical help is available if needed."

I bristled. "We've talked about this, Oliver. It's a non-starter. I'm here to make a difference for this island, this property, regardless of how long – or how briefly – I'm here. I'm not staying in a sick bed waiting for Damian Dahrk to cure me or strike me dead. I have more important things to do with my life."

His jaw hardened, his eyes going dark as he forced himself to take a steadying breath. "This isn't forever – it's a short-term solution, while we try to access Rose's memory of the stone. Once that's done, you'll have as long as you need to take care of this place."

"That's assuming the memory is in my head – which it may not be. And if it is in my head, it's assuming that I can actually access the memory and it's clear, and then if I can access it and it's clear, what if the stone isn't even there anymore? It's been a hundred years. Someone could have taken it by now, which means we're up shit creek without a cure. Dahrk re-issues the curse, and my sanctuary is never finished." A combination of fury and fear welled in my chest. "I don't want to die, Oliver. But if it's going to happen, I'm not going to just sit around and wait for it. Not when I could do something good with the time I have left."

"I won't let you die, Felicity," he said. There was something fierce in the words, in his eyes, that confused me. It all seemed so loaded, suddenly. What wasn't he telling me?

"You may not have a choice," I said stubbornly. "No matter how much you might not want to let me go, no one could save the Merlyn girls who came before me. I'll fight like hell to find a way out of this, but I won't stop living in the meantime."

Our eyes held, torment clear on Oliver's face. He started to reach for me, his hand hovering at my cheek before he curled his fingers to a fist and let his arm drop once more to his side. It was like he was at war with himself, like a wall had gone up between us.

"Okay," he said, his voice barely a whisper. He nodded, and cleared his throat. "You'll work on the sanctuary during the day. Evenings, though, you need to be focused on accessing that memory. I'll help you in whatever way I can."

"Thank you."

I studied his face. The bloodied lip had already healed, the bruise at his eye even now fading. "So, you're not going to tell me what happened? Did you and Ray have a fight? This morning, before you saw the bruises on my neck, it seemed like we were—"

"It was a mistake," he said shortly, looking away for the first time. "I wasn't thinking. You and me – that's not something that can happen."

"But why?" I persisted. "We could deal with the clause, if you wanted—"

"It doesn't matter what I want," he said. His voice was rough, a ferocity in the words that hadn't been there before. "Just let it go, Felicity."

An unexpected knock from the other side of the dining room door made me jump. Crap. I'd locked my brand-new staff in there so I could have a tête-à-tête about the ancient curse that may or may not kill me if I couldn't find the sacred stone my ancestor had stolen, with the gorgeous bodyguard I'd made out with – a lot – last night. And this morning.

How was this suddenly my life?

"Uh – hey," Thea said, poking her head out. "I don't want to interrupt…whatever, but it's getting kind of weird in here."

"Sorry!" I said. I yanked the door open. "We can go now, if you guys are ready to head out?"

"Been ready for going on an hour," Sara said breezily, the first to walk through the door and past them both. Thea paused, studying Oliver.

"Didn't you have a black eye like five minutes ago?"

"I heal fast," he said.

Thea rolled her eyes. "Whatever."