Felicity wasn't a complete stranger to a black tie affair. As Oliver's EA at Queen Consolidated, she'd attended a number of functions at the Queen mansion over the past year. Walking into William Martin's hospital benefit, however, was a completely different experience.

For starters, Moira Queen had had a special talent for reminding Felicity that she was just the hired help, without ever coming right out and saying so. Even before the whole I know Malcolm is Thea's father confrontation, the coolness of her greeting and the fact that she never asked Felicity anything of a personal nature had all served to point out that Felicity was attending a Queen party only to support Oliver, and otherwise never would have been invited. With one look down her patrician nose, Moira had managed to make it clear that the two of them would always move in different circles.

William Martin, on the other hand, welcomed her like an honored guest. She might have been the mayor of New York City or – hell - the President as far as he was concerned. As soon as she entered the benefit he excused himself from the group he was speaking with and began heading across the room to meet her, a broad smile on his face. She couldn't help but be flattered, even while she told herself that she was there to do a job.

The other difference was that she was not walking into the benefit in her usual, solo state. She had a date. A tall, very good-looking date who could really do justice to a tux. As an intelligent, independent woman, she knew she was supposed to be above caring about the whole unaccompanied to the party thing. She might not be Gorgeous Laurel, but she was confident enough to know that she could turn a few heads and maybe even get hit on once or twice. Still, as she entered the room on Vincent's arm she felt an admittedly immature satisfaction as women stopped talking to study him and compare him to their dates. She could almost hear them thinking: Hell, that blonde's guy is hot! She must have something going for her if she's landed a man like that. Okay, so Vincent was really kind of a fake date, but they didn't know that and, anyway, he had wanted to go with her. It was hard not to feel a teeny bit smug.

That smugness only increased when William Martin took both of her hands in his and leaned down to give her a brief kiss on the cheek. "Felicity!" he said warmly, "I'm so pleased you could make it." More heads turned in their direction along with a few curious stares. Clearly, he didn't greet everyone this way.

"Thank you," she replied with equal warmth. "I'm delighted to be here. And I'd like to introduce my friend, Vincent Keller. Vincent is an ER doctor and knows first-hand how important this benefit is to the local hospitals."

Martin turned to study Vincent. "It's nice to meet you," he said pleasantly, but with a slightly puzzled expression. "Didn't I read about you somewhere? You served in the army and were presumed dead for several years? You're some kind of war hero?"

Vincent shrugged. "Yes, I suppose that's me," he replied modestly. "But that's ancient history. Now I'm just a doctor who wants to see the hospitals get what they need to serve the people of New York. Your benefit is a huge part of that. I hope you don't mind if I talk to some of your guests and remind them how much their support is appreciated."

Martin smiled. "Not at all," he said cordially. "It will be good for all of us to forget about the glitz," he gestured vaguely about the elegant room, "and remember the real reason we're here tonight." His smile transitioned into more of a bemused grin – or at least it appeared that way to Felicity. "In fact, I see Marjorie Headley-Gardner coming our way right now. I'm sure she'll be delighted to discuss the local hospitals in more detail with you," he added dryly to Vincent.

Felicity and Vincent both turned to see a tall, slender woman with a tiny waist but surprisingly ample breasts approaching them. Her blue gown was elegant, although it left little to the imagination, and her bare shoulders and arms were toned and tanned. She was somewhere around forty, Felicity thought, although it was tough to be certain because her face was impossibly smooth and her lips unusually full. The large sapphire that hung around her neck was probably the most genuine thing about her. Felicity guessed the rest to be the handiwork of a skilled cosmetic surgeon and a personal trainer.

"Headley-Gardner," she said in a low voice to Vincent. "She hyphenates. I'm never sure what to think about a woman who hyphenates. Is she hanging onto two identities? Is she afraid to commit? What happens if she has a daughter who wants to hyphenate too? Does her daughter become a Headley-Gardner-Smith, or whatever her husband's name is? And what happens if you keep hyphenating over a few generations? The name will never fit on any standard forms."

Vincent glanced down at her and grinned. "Maybe we'll find out," he replied softly. "Here she is."

Marjorie Headley-Gardner joined the three of them…in theory. In reality, she never took her eyes off of Vincent. Her gaze traveled over his body in a long, assessing look before she at last turned toward their host.

Martin took the hint. "Marjorie," he said heartily, "I'd like to introduce you to Felicity Smoak and Vincent Keller. Felicity's visiting from the west coast, but Vincent is an ER physician right here in New York City. He's helping us all remember the reason for the benefit tonight."

The hyphenated Mrs. Headley-Gardner smiled, exposing a set of perfect, white teeth. Felicity noted that her eyes didn't crinkle and her brows didn't move. Her Botox injections must have been very recent.

"What a coincidence," Marjorie replied, never once acknowledging at Felicity. "I was just discussing with some of our ladies how nice it would be to learn more about the needs of our hospitals, and now we've got a physician right here who can tell us." She reached out and took Vincent's free arm (Felicity was pretty sure she was testing the size of his bicep), tugging on it until he was forced to step closer to her and away from Felicity. "Perhaps you won't mind, Dr. Keller, telling me more about the state of our emergency rooms over a glass of champagne. I'm sure it will be most enlightening." She clasped Vincent's elbow with the tenacity of a grappling hook.

Vincent glanced at Felicity with one eyebrow raised. Well, I suppose I asked for this, his face seemed to say. She gave him a minute shrug in return, in which she tried to convey, better you than me, buddy. He smiled.

"Mrs. Headley-Gardner," he said to the woman, "I'd be happy to answer any of your questions."

"Please call me Marjorie."

"Marjorie," he amended.

"Let's get that champagne first. I think I see a waiter somewhere over in that direction." And without a word to Felicity, she pulled on Vincent's arm, towing him determinedly across the room.

William Martin watched them for a few seconds before turning back to Felicity. "I think I owe your friend one," he said dryly. "Usually I spend half my time at the benefit trying to dodge Marjorie but it looks like she's found a new target for the evening. It's too bad she's not with her first husband," he added. "He's the CEO of a security software company, doing some interesting work in SSL decryption and malware detection. He would have been a good person for you to meet. Her current husband, Roland Gardner, is around here somewhere. He's a venture capitalist. Smart enough guy, but no appreciation for the sciences."

Felicity nodded, saying nothing. She secretly wondered how smart Mr. Gardner could really be if he'd married Marjorie the Piranha. It hardly seemed like a recipe for connubial bliss. Still, even intelligent men could be idiots when it came to women. Look at Oliver and Helena Bertinelli.

"It's still a little early, but there are already a few people here that you might want to talk with," Martin broke into her thoughts. "Let's you and I get some champagne ourselves and I'll make the introductions." Without waiting for her response, he placed his hand lightly on her back and steered her toward a group of men talking over in one corner.

And for the next half hour, Felicity had the chance to meet a number of the local giants in the tech industry. She shook hands with the CEOs of firewall, processor and geo-tracking companies, and received a paternal kiss from one older man who had started his own spyware protection business. To her surprise, several of them recognized her name and knew she had gone to work for QC. As the talk spiraled from the usual, bland introductions into technology, she found herself easily able to contribute to the discussion and could see the CEOs' eyes spark with interest. She had no doubt that she could secure job offers from most of them…if she wished.

William Martin beamed with pride as if she were his daughter. When one of the CEOs asked him about his son, he shrugged briefly and replied, "Jeff's not here tonight. He's over at a friend's for the evening." Upon further inquiry he added, "Jeff's still figuring out what he wants to do with his life. He's clearly not into computing. For a while I thought his interest might lie in biology or chemistry. He set up some kind of lab in the basement and was spending hours down there, but like all of his efforts, it appears to be tinkering and not a true vocation." His tone clearly said he didn't want to discuss his son further. The CEO took the hint and turned the conversation back to the latest developments in quantum computing.

Felicity was enjoying the tech talk so much that she almost forgot the real reason for attending the benefit. The large, elegantly lit room, the crystal glasses filled with wine and the music from the band were all virtually ignored as she listened to the men. It was only when Catherine's voice came over the small transmitter in her ear that she recalled her mission.

"Felicity," Catherine sounded like she was suppressing the urge to laugh. "I think you need to go rescue Vincent."

Felicity put her hand up to her ear and frowned.

Tess didn't even try to suppress; she just laughed. "Yeah," she added, "Marjorie Headley – whatever-her-name-is has really got her claws into him."

Surrounded by the CEOs, Felicity couldn't respond out loud. She did, however, risk a subtle glance to the opposite corner and immediately saw what Cat and Tess were talking about. Marjorie the Piranha had moved her hand from Vincent's arm to his waist, and was slowly edging it closer to his backside. A few inches more and she'd just about be holding his left butt cheek. Vincent kept shifting his weight and moving sideways in an effort to get away, but Marjorie would shift too and her hand would quickly find the target again. Vincent's face had taken on a slightly desperate expression. Cat was right; he needed help. As much as she was enjoying chatting with the CEOs, it was time for Felicity to excuse herself.

"Gentlemen," she said to them, interrupting their debate on the risks of phishing in the workplace, "it's been such a pleasure talking with you. I'm sure you have other folks you'd like to speak with tonight and I don't want to monopolize your time. I hope we have a chance to talk again, however."

They smiled and nodded at her, and a few of them thrust business cards in her direction. After a couple of final handshakes, she headed toward Vincent's corner muttering softly, "Any ideas? Mrs. Headley-Gardner looks pretty determined." Fortunately, between the waiters circulating with trays of fancy hors d'oeuvres and the clusters of people chatting in glitzy spendor, no one seemed to notice her talking to herself.

"You could try the old 'spill the drink on her dress' trick," Tess volunteered.

"No, don't do that," Cat countered. "She might ask Vincent to help her sponge it clean."

"How about telling her that her husband is looking for her?" Felicity suggested.

"No," Tess replied. "I checked on her husband. He's hiding down the hall, playing pool with some of the other men. It looks like they all dodge their wives regularly at these things. She'll know you made that one up."

"I supposed tackling her is out of the question." Cat was back to sounding like she wanted to laugh.

"Risky," Tess responded. "Marjorie's breast implants look pretty firm. I think Felicity would just bounce off."

Felicity was treated to the sound of both women snickering in her earpiece. "This isn't helping," she said shortly.

"Sorry," Tess apologized, although it didn't sound terribly sincere.

Her two cohorts fell silent. Felicity was a few yards away from Vincent and The Piranha with no idea what to say when Catherine chimed in suddenly, "Ask him to dance."

"What?"

"Ask him to dance. Remind Vincent that he promised you a dance," she repeated.

Felicity frowned. "But he didn't. We never talked about it. And maybe he doesn't want to dance."

Catherine laughed, "Look at his face. Believe me, he'll want to dance."

She had a point. Vincent looked as if he'd jump from an airplane without a parachute to escape Marjorie, let alone hit the dance floor. Catching Felicity's eye, his expression clearly said, get over here, now! She recalled that he had his own earpiece and could hear the entire discussion she'd just had with Cat and Tess. There was no doubt that he was on board with the whole remind me about the dance plan. She smiled.

Arriving next to him, Felicity stepped close to his side (the one not occupied by The Piranha and her wandering hand) and took a firm grip on his forearm. "Vincent," she said warmly, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I came over to claim the dance you promised me. The band sounds great." Looking up at Marjorie she added, "I hope you don't mind. This is kind of a special night for us. It's our…" she struggled to think of something, "fourth anniversary." Kind of true. It had been four days since she'd met him.

It was apparent that Marjorie did mind, although her Botox -restricted facial movement prevented her from glowering too badly at Felicity. She was reduced to arranging her face into a cold, wide-eyed stare.

Vincent's relief was palpable. "Of course, Felicity," he said with a broad smile. "I could never forget our dance." Glancing at Marjorie and doing his best to sound apologetic he added, "I'm afraid I'm needed elsewhere. It's been a pleasure speaking with you Mrs. Headley-Gar...Marjorie. Once again, thank you for your generous support of our hospitals. You're doing a good thing for our city."

Marjorie retained her grip on the back of Vincent's jacket. For a second Felicity thought there was going to be a tug of war with Vincent in the middle, but perhaps The Piranha realized that she might look a little desperate. The woman reluctantly let go, baring her teeth in what passed for her as a smile. "It was a pleasure meeting you as well, Dr. Keller," she replied. After a brief pause she added, "When you're ready for more adult company," she glanced at Felicity dismissively, "you know where to find me."

Vincent didn't respond. He just smiled and gripped Felicity's hand, leading her to the dance floor.

"Get ready, Felicity. I'm going to dip you."

Diggle glanced at Oliver. It was a shame they weren't back in the foundry because he was pretty sure his friend needed to hit a dummy right about now. It was a tough evening for Oliver all around. First, he'd been excluded from the mission and forced to listen to it over the comms from a van a couple of blocks away. Waiting while someone else acted had to be more stressful for Oliver than going into battle was for most people. Second, he'd had to listen to Felicity's pseudo-job interview with the technology movers and shakers and realize that she had at least a dozen career opportunities waiting for her far away from Starling City. It was sharp reminder that she could have a fulfilling life outside of Team Arrow. And lastly, he was being treated to Vincent Keller's version of Dirty Dancing as the doctor and Felicity laughed their way through a number of dances. If the band started playing Hungry Eyes, Digg was afraid Oliver's head might explode.

When Felicity giggled for at least the tenth time, it got to be too much. Oliver reached past J.T. to flip a switch on the console and speak into his comm link. "Isn't it time for you guys to be searching Martin's room?" he snapped. "You've been at the benefit for over an hour. This is about finding your attacker, Felicity. It isn't supposed to be about having fun."

His last statement sounded more than a little petulant, and Digg was pretty sure Oliver recognized it. It was too late to take back the words, however; they hung out there for a few beats, with only music audible on the comms. Finally, it was Tess who responded calmly, "Up until this point, there really weren't enough people here for Felicity and Vincent to disappear unnoticed. The party's in full swing now, though, so I think it's safe for them to leave for twenty minutes. Cat and I will keep an eye out."

"Right," Felicity's voice suddenly sounded businesslike, all trace of the giggles gone. "Vincent, are you ready?"

"Yup. I've got your back."

"Good. Let's go."

Oliver looked strangely relieved.

Jeffrey Martin had an incredibly boring bedroom.

Situated on a corner of the second floor, the room had all kinds of possibilities. There was a large, walk-in closet that Felicity would have killed for and beautiful wooden shelves built into one of the walls. The shelves could have housed all kinds of books and mementos, but instead stood largely empty. Felicity figured the Martin's brownstone had to be close to 150 years old and Jeff's bedroom reeked of elegance from an era when homes were individually built with care and love. The walls were real plaster and cried out for black and white photographs or original art to be hanging from them. The hardwood floor had an intricate pattern of darker and lighter woods running through it.

Martin, however, took advantage of none of that.

The closet, nearly the size of Felicity's entire bedroom back in Starling, was mostly vacant. There were a few hangers with jeans, shirts and hoodies hanging from them, and a pinstripe suit was stuck in the back. Judging by the quantity of dust on the suit, Jeff Martin didn't dress up very often. The limited content on the wooden shelves included a few magazines, several textbooks from college, and a game console. There were no photographs, no souvenirs; the room was about as impersonal as you could get. In addition to the closet, there was a chest of drawers and a desk. Felicity could see no other possibilities for hiding places.

She shrugged at Vincent. "Well, unless there's a secret panel somewhere, searching this room shouldn't take very long."

He nodded in agreement. "I'll keep watch and let you know if anyone's coming." He positioned himself by doorway and gazed down the hall.

Felicity quickly pulled open the desk drawers, one by one. Apart from the usual office supplies – pencils, pens, paper clips - she found nothing; not even a flash drive or DVDs. There were no notebooks with cryptic writing, and no keys or burner phones. She did find a couple of pictures of his older brother stuffed into an envelope and wondered briefly why they weren't framed and on display. They were the only thing of a personal nature she could see.

The dresser held underwear, socks and tee shirts, but nothing else of interest. Apparently Jeff favored briefs.

That left the computer on top of the desk. She turned it on, expecting to be prompted for some kind of password. Instead, she was taken right to the desktop, with the various application icons beaming at her cheerfully. All his files were easily accessible in folders and she decided that Jeff was either incredibly clever or incredibly naïve. If he really was lacking in computing skills as his father thought, then there was nothing else to be found. If, on the other hand, he knew how to bury stuff, he'd done a very good job of it and it would take more than twenty minutes for her to find it. She pulled a flash drive out of her purse and made copies of the files and his internet browsing history for examination later, but had a feeling they weren't going to tell her much. She shut the machine back down.

"That's it," she said to Vincent as she joined him at the doorway. "I didn't find a damn thing. It's like the guy barely lives here."

Vincent took a look around the room and shook his head. "Well, we tried," he said shortly. "And at least we didn't get caught." He took her elbow and began to guide her back down the hallway.

"Guys?" Cat's voice came through crisply on the comms.

"Yes?" Vincent and Felicity answered simultaneously.

"Tess and I are going to have to sign off this frequency and get on the line with the police for a little while. The mayor showed up at the benefit about fifteen minutes ago and some guy is harassing him. I don't think it's a big deal…probably just too much to drink…but it's escalating, and we're going to have to handle it."

Felicity sighed. "It's not a problem. We're done on the second floor and headed back down anyway. I copied Jeff's files onto a flash drive. We can look at them later tonight."

"Okay. Marjorie what's-her-name is still here, so you may want to hit the dance floor again."

Felicity laughed. "Will do. Talk to you later."

"Bye."

As she and Vincent reached the stairs, Felicity suddenly had the feeling that she was forgetting something. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she was pretty sure it was related to Jeff Martin and might be relevant to their mission. When they arrived on the first floor and started walking back to the party, she figured it out. She stopped abruptly and tugged on Vincent's arm, forcing him to stop too.

"There's one other place we can look," she said urgently.

Vincent said nothing, just raised his eyebrows at her and waited.

"William Martin said something to one of the CEOs about Jeff tinkering around in a homemade lab," she said. "That's got to be worth checking out. There was nothing in his room – maybe the lab is where he keeps anything of importance." She began retracing their steps down the first floor hallway, opening doors as she went. The fourth door revealed the steps to the basement.

"Here." She pointed to the stairs.

"Right," Vincent replied. He took a brief look around but no one was nearby. "Let's go," he said softly.

They headed down the steps. Felicity usually didn't mind being underground – after working in the foundry for the last couple of years it almost seemed natural – but this basement was definitely on the creepy side. The walls were dim, grey cement and the lighting felt weak. There were generous quantities of cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and a thick layer of dust covering the storage bins and old furniture kept down there. The basement was large, covering the full size of the house, but the shelving and other items turned what could have been open space into a maze of irregular corridors. If this was where Jeffrey was spending much of his time, it was no wonder he was a little on the peculiar side.

As they moved carefully through the storage bins Felicity thought she spied what might serve as Jeff's lab. She was about to point it out to Vincent when she felt him stiffen. Before she could ask, he said abruptly, "We gotta get out of here."

"What?"

"We're not alone." And without explaining further, he physically turned Felicity around and began pushing her back to the stairs. Reluctant to leave without completing the investigation but attuned to Vincent's urgency, she began to move.

It was too late.

There was a low growl and a man - the one with the claws and the glowing eyes – stepped out from behind some shelving to block their path. Standing this close to him, Felicity could see the muscles rippling under his shirt. She looked frantically for a second set of stairs, but with the dim light and various boxes stacked floor to ceiling, she couldn't see any. The man – or whatever he was - was advancing on them slowly and Vincent stepped in front of her, shielding her with his body. He began speaking softly. "You don't want to do this," he said in a measured voice. "You need to get control. Try to remember who you are, try to find yourself."

His words had no effect. If anything, the guy looked angrier. He growled again, louder this time. Felicity had the sinking feeling that they weren't going to make it out of the basement alive. She felt sick, not so much for herself, but for involving Vincent, for getting him killed. She thought about Catherine and how much the two of them loved each other, and hated the idea that she was the reason that Catherine might be left with only a memory of that love. She tried to step around Vincent, to distract the creature, but Vincent pushed her firmly back behind him.

And then Oliver's voice was in her ear. "Felicity? Felicity, talk to me. Where are you? What's going on?"

"Oliver? We're…"

Vincent turned around quickly and put his finger to her lips. "Shhhh," he ordered, cutting off her response.

She stared at him in confusion. "What are you…?"

"Felicity," Vincent's honest brown eyes looked deeply into hers as he gripped her upper arms. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." There was no other answer.

"Good." He smiled weakly. "I'm afraid we're going to have to keep the next few minutes to ourselves."

And reaching out, he gently removed the transmitter from her ear and then the one from his own. Dropping them on the floor, he crushed them under his foot.

He turned to face the creature.