It was good being shown around New York City by a native. J.T. knew all the tricks - when to take the subway, when it made sense to walk, how to avoid lines. They started with a late breakfast at a place on Madison, then moved on to see the beautiful main concourse in Grand Central Station, bustling with people on a Monday morning. J.T. was relaxed and easygoing, a different person now that no one was trying to kidnap him or his girlfriend. Digg hated to admit it, but he was enjoying the day.

Still, he thought it would have been better if Oliver had manned up and gone sightseeing alone with Felicity. On the surface, the two of them appeared to be having a good time. Oliver ate breakfast with gusto and Felicity peppered J.T. with questions. Knowing them well, however, Digg could tell that things were off. Oliver, who was always ready to place a hand on Felicity's shoulder, studiously avoided touching her, and Felicity pretended not to notice his distance. The air between them felt heavy with things unsaid.

Felicity hadn't gone into great detail about what had happened at the Martin's when she'd returned yesterday evening. She'd told them that William Martin was doing his best to accept Billy, and that he was going to build a lab for J.T. to continue his research. Then she'd announced that she'd trespassed on J.T.'s hospitality long enough and was going to transfer from his home to Oliver and Digg's hotel. It had been the perfect opportunity for Oliver to excuse himself to help her pack. But he didn't.

Digg wondered how long the two of them could go on. It wasn't as if New York, and whatever had happened during Oliver and Felicity's day together, was a complete shock. Felicity had been jonesing for Oliver almost since the day she'd set foot in the foundry. Oliver had done a better job ignoring his feelings, but he, too, had been looking at Felicity with warmth for quite some time - even if he refused to acknowledge it.

Things had been building for more than a year and needed to be resolved, one way or another. Digg cared deeply for both of his friends and hated to see either of them hurt. He was afraid that resolution was going to mean the breakup of the team. He didn't see a way around it, not if Oliver didn't want a relationship. Felicity had too much honesty, loyalty and heart to continue giving all of herself to a man who couldn't admit to loving her.

Digg realized J.T. had asked him a question. "Hmmm?"

"I asked if you wanted to see the 9/11 Memorial," J.T. said.

Good question. Digg had never been there.

"What did Oliver and Felicity say about it?" He looked at the pair a few yards away as they studied the offerings on a pretzel cart. He almost laughed when Oliver raised a hand toward Felicity's back then quickly lowered it again.

"Those two?" J.T. shrugged. "They're too busy trying to figure out what they want."

Digg was pretty sure J.T. wasn't referring to pretzels. He watched Felicity point to something on the cart.

"He offered her a job, you know," J.T. said suddenly.

"What?"

"William Martin. He offered Felicity a job searching for a cure for Billy and Vincent. Vincent told me that last night."

"Did she take it?"

"No. But Vincent said she didn't refuse, either. Just said she'd think about it." J.T. sighed. "I wouldn't mind if she accepted. She'd make a great research partner."

"She makes a good partner. Period."

J.T. smiled. "Think there's any chance she'll say yes?"

Felicity stepped away from the cart, holding a huge, salt-encrusted pretzel. She tore the pretzel in two and handed half to Oliver. Neither of them was smiling.

"I don't know," Digg said honestly. "If you'd asked me that question a couple of months ago, I'd have said there was no way. But now…" his voice trailed off.

Oliver turned away from Felicity as he bit into his pretzel half.

"He's worse than Vincent," J.T. commented.

"Oliver?"

"Yeah. When Vincent first met Cat, he did his best to stay away from her. He didn't think he could ever have a romantic relationship, given the whole Beast thing. Too dangerous for her, too dangerous for him."

Digg nodded.

"To be fair," J.T. continued with a chuckle, "I encouraged him to think that way. I thought the fewer people who knew about his secret, the better." He shook his head. "But eventually, she got past his defenses, despite what he and I had to say about it. And once she did, Vincent was all in. None of this mixed signals crap, like your friend there." He nodded at Oliver.

Digg didn't reply.

"There might have been a couple of hiccups," J.T. confessed. "Vincent got captured by the people who turned him into a Beast and they brainwashed him for awhile. But even that wasn't enough to get him to turn away from her. They've been tight, ever since. And I gotta admit, it's been really good for him. Love might make us stupid sometimes, but it can also make us better."

Digg sighed. "Tell that to Oliver."

They ended the day with pizza. Real, New York-style pizza, according to J.T. Felicity eyed the thin-crusted pie dubiously as the professor actually folded a slice before stuffing it into his mouth, but had to admit when she bit into her own slice that it was pretty damn good.

It was her last night in New York. Tomorrow morning, along with Oliver and Diggle, she'd board a flight home. Back to Starling City, back to no job, and back to business as usual, she supposed, in the foundry. The week in New York hadn't turned out at all the way she'd planned. She'd been looking for distance from Oliver to think about what she wanted to do with her life. Instead, they'd been thrown together closer than ever - at least for a while. She didn't know whether she was supposed to take hope from that or despair; because after spending a night sleeping beside her and a day giving her his undivided attention, Oliver seemed to want to pretend that nothing had happened. Of course, she was pretending too, and doing a decent job of it, she thought. But it was getting tiring...or was it tiresome? Maybe both. She loved saving the city with him, but she wanted more.

Vincent, Catherine and Tess, fresh off their shifts at work, had joined them at the pizza restaurant. Their group of seven sat around a table in the corner, with three large pies and a couple of pitchers of beer. Felicity guessed that, to all the world, they looked like any collection of friends out for an evening. No one would ever be able to tell that Vincent could transform into a being with inhuman strength and speed, or that Oliver could shoot the wings off a mosquito with a bow and arrow.

"You think Martin is going to stick to his word - and not report Billy's kidnapping or reach out to other laboratories to cure him?" Oliver asked Vincent.

The doctor nodded soberly. "I told him that I would help Billy disappear again if he did that...and I meant it. I think Martin believed me."

"He'll keep his word," Catherine affirmed. "He loves his sons, even if he has trouble showing it."

Vincent gave her a warm look and patted her knee. "And I know from experience that having people who love you makes all the difference. It's the reason to work at having a life."

Oliver didn't reply.

"What about you?" Digg asked J.T. "Will having a new lab and William Martin's funding get you closer to a cure?"

J.T. glanced at Vincent, his eyes full of affection for his friend. "I don't know. I've been trying for so long now that I'm a little discouraged. But a new lab and better resources can't hurt. And who knows? Maybe I'll be able to get a research assistant." He grinned at Felicity.

She dropped her gaze to her plate and said nothing.

"So," J.T. continued, "besides the kidnapping attempts and the whole Beast-thing, what did you all think of our city? Pretty cool - right?"

The change of subject made everyone smile, and the evening transitioned to lighter subjects and a cheerful atmosphere. Vincent and Digg recanted funny stories from their basic training, and Cat and Tess shared tales of their more unusual arrests. Felicity laughed along with Oliver and Digg, but all the while was conscious of a sinking feeling. Vincent and Catherine looked so comfortable together; so...united. There were no huge displays of affection, but every little move and touch spoke of their happiness and commitment to each other. It was what love should look like, she thought. Unforced, natural...coming from someplace deep inside.

She had hoped - maybe even expected (if she was honest with herself) - to have that same love with Oliver one day. She knew he cared for her, even if she wasn't entirely sure of the nature of that caring. Every time he looked at her with his special expression, she felt as though they were on the edge of joining hearts. A couple of days ago, she believed they had met across that edge. But she'd been wrong. Oliver was back to business as usual and she was back to being his trusted partner.

She suddenly felt tired - her appetite for pizza and laughter gone. The realization that Oliver might never want to be with her was so overwhelming that she was afraid she would start weeping at the table. Weeping for things that would never happen. Weeping for opportunities wasted.

She stood.

"Ladies room?" Catherine and Tess asked in unison.

Felicity shook her head. "No. I'm going back to the hotel. I've had a really great time tonight and I can't tell you how happy I am to have met you all, but I think the week is catching up with me. I'm a little tired. I should probably get some sleep."

All four men started to rise.

She held out a hand. "No...don't get up. The hotel is only three blocks from here. I know I've given you reason to question it over the last few days, but I'm pretty sure I can walk there without getting into trouble. Billy and Jeff are with their dad. They won't be coming after me." She forced a smile and hoped they hadn't heard the tremor in her voice.

Oliver slowly sat back down, along with with Vincent and J.T. Digg, however, remained standing. He was watching her closely, a knowing look on his face.

"I'll walk with you," he said. "I'm tired and could use an early night too."

She frowned. "It's okay, Digg. Really. It's your last night with Vincent. You should spend time with him."

He shook his head. "No, I'll go. I really am tired, Felicity. And now that Vincent and I have each others' phone numbers, we won't be strangers."

"Damn right," Vincent agreed. Catherine smiled and squeezed his hand.

Crap. She really wanted to be alone in case she couldn't hold back the tears. They were stinging her eyes now, perilously close to spilling over. Still, better that Digg walk with her than Oliver. She'd never be able to explain it to Oliver.

"Okay," she said to Digg. "Let's go." She felt moisture in the corner of one eye and waved quickly at the table. "Goodnight, everyone." And without waiting, she headed toward the door of the restaurant, with Digg behind her.

She only made it a dozen steps outside the door before she started crying. In the middle of the New York sidewalk, crowded with pedestrians on an autumn evening, she felt the tears fall. In a weird way, it wasn't a bad place. The busy New Yorkers, bustling home from a late day in the office or a drink with friends, never paused to look at her. They gave her privacy, even as they brushed elbows and jostled her in passing.

Only Digg stopped. And he, bless him, didn't say a word. He simply looked at her face, then held out his arms. After a short pause, she stepped into them and pressed her face into his chest.

And sobbed as if she were a little girl.

Oliver watched Felicity leave the restaurant, relieved that she wasn't walking alone. It was true the hotel was nearby and they weren't in a bad section of the city, but there was no point in taking chances. Nothing had gone well since she'd left Starling and he doubted things would be right again until she returned. He was anxious for her to get on the plane tomorrow and head back to the foundry where she belonged.

He smiled as Tess and Cat debated ordering another pitcher of beer, appreciating the normalcy of the conversation. It wasn't often he had the opportunity to spend an evening out like this, not laying his life on the line or having to pretend he was something he wasn't. It was one of the reasons he hadn't insisted on walking Felicity back himself - well, that and the awkwardness of being alone with her. He liked these people. Digg's friend, Vincent Keller, had turned out to be an okay guy. The doctor got it; he understood responsibilities and keeping secrets. He understood fighting to protect the things you love.

Oliver turned once more to look out the window, just to reassure himself that things were fine and Felicity and Digg were moving down the street - then nearly dropped his beer. Because Digg and Felicity weren't moving and things were clearly not fine. Not even close to it.

Felicity was crying.

In the middle of the sidewalk, with her faced buried in Diggle's chest, she was crying.

Oliver had seen Felicity weepy numerous times. When she'd been abducted by Count Vertigo, when Slade had held his blade to her throat, she'd been in tears. She was not a woman he would categorize as stoic. But he'd never seen her cry like this. She stood with one arm around Digg's waist and the other hanging limply at her side, holding her glasses in her fingertips. Even from this distance, Oliver could see her shoulders moving up and down. He saw Digg reach out to catch her glasses before they dropped to the sidewalk.

"Christ!"

He pushed his chair away from the table and started to rise.

"Sit." Catherine grabbed his wrist and tugged on it. She had a surprisingly strong grip for such a petite woman.

Oliver stared at her in confusion. Maybe she hadn't seen Felicity.

"I gotta go," he began. "Felicity's-"

"Sit!" she repeated, her hand still clamped around his wrist.

"But...don't you see her? Felicity's...she's...something's wrong. I think she's hurt." Oliver gestured at the window.

Catherine didn't even look. She shook her head and pulled on his arm. "She's okay, Oliver. She's just dealing with some...stuff. Sit down."

He could hear the authority in her voice. He supposed it came from being a cop. He lowered himself into his chair, but wasn't ready to give up. "I think I should-"

"Leave her with Digg." It was Tess who spoke this time. "He'll make sure she gets back to the hotel."

Oliver scowled. "Leave her? I've known Felicity for two years and we've been in some pretty hairy situations together - and I've never seen her cry like that. Something's really wrong."

"Maybe," Tess said evenly. "But, believe me, if you go out there now you're only going to make it worse."

Short of someone threatening Felicity's life, Oliver didn't know how it could be worse. He gave Tess another glare before turning to Vincent and J.T. "This is some kind of woman thing, right? You've got Y-chromosomes. You understand that I need to go."

Vincent shook his head. "Sorry, Oliver. Y-chromosome or not, I'm with the ladies on this one. Felicity needs to deal with her...stuff...without you."

"She's overdue," Catherine added, "My guess is that's about two years of tears coming out right now."

Two years?

"What the hell does that mean?" Oliver asked angrily. It was as if she were implying that he was responsible for Felicity's tears.

Catherine searched his face, undaunted by his temper. After a moment, she sighed. "Let me ask you this, Oliver. Five years from now, you've sorted out Starling City. Bad guys put away, corruption wiped out. Team Arrow doesn't need to patrol the streets every night. Where do you see Felicity when that happens?"

Huh? What a stupid question. He could barely think about the next five weeks, let alone the next five years. And what did five years in the future have to do with Felicity crying on the sidewalk right now?

"Where do I see her?" he snorted. "I have no idea. Assuming I can get my company back, I see her helping me at Queen Consolidated. Maybe running the IT department. She's crazy smart, and she has a good head for business. There's a lot of things she could be doing. What does any of this have to do with her crying right now?"

"But do you see her as part of your life?" Catherine persisted. "And, if so, what part? Business meetings a couple times a week? Getting together with her and her husband once a month for dinner? Godfather to one of her kids?"

Felicity with a husband and kids? Seeing her only once a month? Oliver had never given the future much thought, but the few times he had allowed himself to think ahead, the vision always included Felicity, much as she was today; at his side, optimistic, doing what needed to be done. There was no husband in the picture - ever.

None of which was relevant, he reminded himself. He stared at Catherine. "I don't see why we're talking about this now," he repeated. "I doubt Felicity's upset because she's worried about my five year plan."

J.T. picked up the pitcher and refilled Oliver's beer glass. "Seriously? The great Oliver Queen, with all his experience with women, doesn't get it?" He pointed at the glass. "Drink up, buddy. The five year plan is exactly what she's worried about. She's just spent a week watching these two," he gestured at Catherine and Vincent, "balance keeping a huge secret and a dangerous lifestyle with a really good relationship. She's seen that she can have both. And she's wondering if you're ever going to realize it yourself - or if you're just going to keep her at arm's length forever."

"Hey," Tess said, smiling affectionately at J.T., "that's not bad." She turned to Oliver. "You see? Even my occasionally clueless boyfriend gets it." She continued smiling, even when J.T. scowled at her. "It's clear to everyone who's seen you and Felicity together, Oliver, that you love each other. The only person who doesn't seem to see it, is you."

Oliver narrowed his eyes. "Well, I suppose I should see it by now, given the advice everyone's been giving me for the past week."

Tess ignored his sarcasm. "Yes, you should," she said matter-of-factly, "but apparently you don't."

He realized they were all looking at him with similar expressions; a knowing, half-smile mixed with exasperation. He'd seen that expression on Digg's face more than once in the foundry. He considered protesting further, but knew it was useless. Because they were right. If he was honest, he'd known for some time how he felt about Felicity. He wanted her with him...always. At work, in the foundry, in his home, at his side. It was why he hadn't pursued Sara when she'd walked away. It was why his I love you had been so convincing when he'd put it out there for Slade.

He sighed. "Fine. Let's say that I - hypothetically - love her. I don't think you understand why it's not possible for me to act on it. I live a crazy life. My future is hardly assured. I'd be putting her in danger."

"She's already in danger," Vincent said sharply, "by helping you do what you do. And the fact that your future is uncertain only means that you shouldn't waste time now. Do you think if something happens to you that Felicity's first thought will be, thank God we weren't in a relationship? I doubt it. I think she'll regret that the two of you never had the chance to be together."

Would she?

"I don't know." It was all he could think of to say.

"I'd suggest you figure it out," Catherine said, not unkindly. "I think Felicity was telling the truth tonight when she said that she was tired. She's tired emotionally, Oliver. It's hard spending so much time with someone you love when you're not sure they'll ever love you back. And after this week, she knows she has other opportunities to make a difference in the world. Martin offered her a job helping find a cure for Beasts. She's got some decisions to make."

Felicity hadn't mentioned the job. Oliver frowned.

"I should talk to her," he said.

"Later." Catherine patted his hand. "Right now, she just needs to let go for a little while. Give her the space to do it."

He nodded reluctantly and forced himself to stay in his seat. For the next hour he drank beer and did his best to listen to the conversation, even though his mind was on Felicity, back in her room at the hotel. Was she still crying? Would she really consider taking a job away from Starling - from him? A week ago he would have said there was no way. Now he wasn't quite so confident.

Vincent was halfway through a story about a kid who was brought to the ER with a drinking straw lodged in his nose when Oliver stood abruptly.

"I gotta go."

The four New Yorkers looked at each other.

"Yes," Catherine said after a moment, "I suppose you do. Just...try to listen, Oliver, and not push too hard. And be honest."

"Sure," he agreed, anxious to be on his way.

"And don't forget Felicity's going to need to have her stitches taken out in a few days," Vincent added. "I'm guessing you'll want to do that yourself." There was a gleam in his eye.

Oliver decided to ignore it. He nodded at the table. "Thanks," he said. "Really. It was great meeting all of you - even if you have hard time staying out of other people's business."

They waved him off.

It took him less than five minutes to get to the hotel. Oliver jogged up the stairs and was striding down the hall when he realized that he had no clue what he would say. Felicity, I love you? She might doubt him, given that he'd used those words before when he'd wanted to fool Slade. Felicity, I love you, and I mean it this time? Maybe. But, now that he thought about it, she'd never actually said the words to him. She just looked at him as if she loved him. What if everyone was wrong about her feelings and she gave him a blank stare when he confessed his?

He slowed to collect his thoughts. He couldn't remember a time when he cared this much about what he said to a woman. But then he couldn't remember a time when so much was at stake. As he passed the door to Diggle's room he heard the faint murmur of the television, signaling that the man hadn't turned in early. Normally he was loathe to ask Digg for advice about women - and about Felicity, in particular. But he was desperate; and the guy knew Felicity better than anyone. Plus, she'd picked Digg's arms to cry in. There had to be a reason for that.

He tapped on the door and heard the shuffle of footsteps as Digg moved toward it, followed by silence as Digg observed him through the peephole. The man was taking his time. Oliver shifted impatiently.

The door opened a few inches, enough for Oliver to see half of Diggle.

"Oliver."

"Digg. Can I come in?"

The door didn't open any wider. "It's late, Oliver. Can it wait until morning?"

Oliver frowned. "It's not that late. It's not even ten." He took a half step closer.

Diggle didn't move. The man was like a brick wall.

"It's been a crazy week," Digg said flatly. "I'm tired, you're tired. I think it would be better if we all got a good night's sleep."

Oliver's frown grew deeper. "I'm not asking to run a mission, Digg. I just want to talk."

"Tomorrow, Oliver. We can talk tomorrow."

"Digg-"

"It's okay." The voice belonged to Felicity and it came from somewhere behind the door.

Felicity was with Diggle? She hadn't gone to her room?

Digg still didn't move. "You're sure?" he asked Felicity, his eyes not leaving Oliver.

"Yup. I'm sure. It's okay." She sounded composed.

Diggle stepped back and opened the door.

Now it was Oliver who hesitated. He still hadn't figured out what he was going to say to her, and the fact that she sounded cool instead of teary made him nervous. What if she had already come to some kind of resolution? What if she was planning to leave Starling?

Man up, he told himself, and entered the room.

Felicity was lying atop one side of the king-size bed, her back propped up against the pillows. She was wearing flannel sleep pants and a huge sweatshirt that Oliver figured must belong to Diggle. She looked small and vulnerable on the big bed. Her expression, however, was calm.

Digg closed the door, walked to the other side of the bed, and stood. He looked very much like a guard on duty.

Oliver chose to ignore that. Hoping to keep things light, he quipped, "Am I interrupting a pajama party?"

Felicity gestured at the television. "Monday Night Football."

"Excuse me?"

"Monday Night Football," Digg repeated. "Felicity and I bet each other on the games. We started over a year ago, back when you took off for Lian Yu without a word. It was something to distract us from our worries. We've kept it up, ever since."

Oliver didn't think he could remember either of them ever mentioning football. "I never noticed that," he said.

Felicity looked at him and shrugged. She didn't have to say the words aloud for him to get her meaning. There's a lot you don't notice, Oliver.

He tried to ignore that, too. A little desperately, he asked, "Who's ahead in the bets?"

Digg nodded at Felicity. "We're pretty even, actually. I had to buy Felicity sushi last week, but I'm optimistic about my chances tonight. It's New England against Pittsburgh. We both picked New England, but Felicity's got them beating the spread and I don't think they're gonna do it. We don't usually have the chance to see the game, so we thought we'd watch tonight since we're not in the foundry."

"Oh." Oliver wasn't sure what to say next. It didn't sound like there was a lot of room in that plan for getting Felicity alone to talk. Digg had made it sound as though they were going to watch the game for the rest of the night and she hadn't demurred.

He looked at her as she leaned against the pillows. Really looked at her, as if he didn't see her every day. Her hair was out of its ponytail and tumbled around her shoulders. Her eyes, still a little tear-reddened, were free of cosmetics. He liked her like this, when she wasn't made up. She looked young and incredibly honest...and adorably silly, swimming in Digg's oversized sweatshirt.

She could be his, he thought. All that courage, brains and beauty could be his. They could be each other's.

He recalled what Vincent had said. If something happens, she'll regret that the two of you never had the chance to be together. He knew now that he would regret not being with her. It would probably be his last thought.

He took a deep breath. "I think we need to talk, Felicity."

"We do?"

He nodded. "About what happened this week...between us. About what's been happening between us for a long time now. I think we need to talk about it."

"Hmmm."

It wasn't the response he'd been expecting and it didn't sound like a hmmm of assent. Her expression was cautious and she made no effort to rise from the bed, as if preparing to leave with him. Nor, for that matter, did Diggle offer to give them privacy, even when Oliver gave him a pointed stare.

He shuffled uncertainly. "You don't think we should talk?"

Felicity pursed her lips. "That depends. Are you going to give me the same speech you've given in the past? You know, because of the life I lead I don't think I can be with anyone I really care about…" her voice trailed off.

"No. That's not what I was planning to say."

"Oh." Her eyes brightened a little. She still didn't move, however. She exchanged a knowing look with Diggle and Oliver thought he saw amusement in the big man's eyes. His two friends turned back to him and waited.

Oliver sighed. "You guys have discussed this, haven't you? And you've decided you're not going to make it easy for me."

For the first time since he'd walked in, there was a hint of a smile on Felicity's face.

He shuffled again. "Felicity-"

"Relax, Oliver," she relented. "We will talk - just not at this moment. Digg's right. It's been a crazy week. I'm tired and I think you are too. For now - it's enough for me to know that you're willing to talk, that you're not going to pretend that things didn't happen."

"You're sure? You're not going to do something crazy before that, like...I don't know...take another job or anything?"

She didn't ask how he knew about the job offer. "Not before we talk, Oliver. I promise."

"Okay." He wasn't exactly reassured, but he figured it was the best he was going to get at the moment.

The room went silent. Oliver wondered if Felicity and Digg were expecting him to leave, now that the we'll have a talk thing was settled. He didn't want to go. He wanted to be with the two people he cared deeply about, even if they sometimes enjoyed yanking his chain.

"You really picked New England to beat the spread?" he asked Felicity, nodding at the TV.

She grinned. "Oh yeah. Digg's gonna owe me big after this game."

Oliver shook his head. "I don't know. Pittsburgh's defense is tough. I think I'm with Digg on this one."

She studied him a moment, then slid over to the middle of the bed and patted the space she had just vacated. "Well, why don't you stay, Oliver, and we'll see what happens."

Stay? Keeping his expression calm, even though something inside him was shouting happily, he sat on the edge of the bed and then twisted to lie back and stretch his legs out beside her. To his surprise, Diggle did the same thing on her other side. The three of them lay on the king-size bed and stared at the TV.

"Well," Digg said after a moment. "This is cozy."

They looked at each other.

"It's not really any different than the three of us in the front seat of the van," Felicity observed. "We just happen to have our feet up."

Diggle frowned. "Maybe. But the first person who takes a picture and texts it to Lyla has to tidy up the foundry for the next two months."

Nobody reached for his phone.

Oliver turned his gaze back to the television. The teams were nearing the end of the first half and the score was tied at seven. "Can I get a piece of the action?" he asked. "Or is the betting closed?"

"What did you have in mind?" Felicity murmured.

He thought about what he wanted. He wanted her to promise to stay with him always. He wanted her to never look at another man the way she looked at him. He wanted to know what it felt like to take her to bed (without Diggle) and connect with her in every way possible. It was a lot to bet on a football game.

He settled for, "If New England beats the spread, I'll give you an official code name and use it on every mission. If they don't, then we have our talk."

She frowned. "I already agreed to talk with you, Oliver."

"I know. But you might change your mind. This makes it official."

"Only if they don't beat the spread."

"They won't."

"It's a four point spread."

"They won't."

She grinned. "We'll see."

But she didn't see - at least not in real time. She fell asleep sometime in the middle of the third quarter, stretched out comfortably between Oliver and Diggle. Oliver gently lifted the glasses off her face and placed them on the nightstand, but didn't attempt to carry her to her room. She looked so peaceful. He didn't want to risk waking her.

And in the end, New England won the game and beat the spread, meaning Oliver lost the bet. Digg owed Felicity lattes for a week and Oliver owed her a code name.

Fortunately, they talked anyway.

It might not have been the hardest talk Oliver had ever had, but it probably ranked somewhere in the top ten. It was difficult to tell a woman that you cared about her, he discovered, when you really did care, and weren't an over-eager kid just saying it to get into her pants. Even though he was sure that she had feelings for him too, it still felt risky - like leaping out of a building without his grappling arrow.

They talked in the foundry immediately after they arrived in Starling from New York. It was late in the afternoon and Diggle had headed off to his apartment to see Lyla, leaving Oliver and Felicity alone in the cool basement. It felt like the right place - the spot where they had shared tragedies, triumphs, and tears. The dim light was soothing and they were surrounded by things they knew well; Oliver's arrows and Felicity's computers. It was home for both of them.

"I figured something out in New York," he began.

She was in her customary seat in front of her computers, watching him closely. He couldn't sit; his nerves were firing as if this were a mission. So he paced instead.

"I figured out a lot of things, actually," he amended.

She raised an eyebrow and waited.

"I figured out that I don't like seeing you with another man - that I've thought of you as mine for some time now." When she opened her mouth, he hurriedly continued, "I figured out that I can always be myself with you, in and out of the Arrow suit. I figured out that you make me feel at peace in a way that no one else can. I figured out that I don't want you to leave - that I depend on you for a lot more than technical support. I want...I expect...you to be with me always. And before you get mad, I know that it's selfish of me, but that's the way it is."

"Oliver-"

But he had a good head of steam now and the words kept coming. "I spent a lot of time thinking about why I've been reluctant to start anything with you. I mean, you've seen me with women. I'm usually not afraid to jump into a relationship. McKenna, Helena, Sara…"

She nodded and a shadow crossed over her face.

He continued quickly, "And I realized it's because I never worried about the future with them. I was acting in the moment. But with you, Felicity, all I see is the future. I know that whatever we have, it's for the long haul. And I don't want to screw it up."

The shadow passed and the color rose in her cheeks. Not an angry red, but a becoming pink. Her eyes were luminous behind her glasses. She rose and walked over to him, then took his hand in hers.

"Oliver."

She tilted her face up, a tentative smile on her lips. It was better than any speech she could have given him.

"Felicity."

He entwined their fingers and gazed down at her. He lowered his head...

And the door to the foundry opened and there were footsteps, tripping lightly down the stairs. Definitely not Digg, he thought. He dropped Felicity's hand and stepped back.

"Oliver." Laurel came into view. "You're back." Her gaze took in Felicity. "You're both back."

Oliver nodded. "We got in about an hour ago."

"Did everything go...as expected... in New York? You certainly seemed busy."

Oliver looked at Felicity's face and couldn't help but grin. He could almost feel the happiness radiating off of her. "Not exactly as expected. But things turned out pretty well in the end, I think. I'm optimistic."

"Oh." Laurel's glance moved between Oliver and Felicity, then seemed to linger on Felicity's flushed cheeks. "That's good, I guess." She didn't push for specifics.

"Things okay here?" he asked her.

"Yes. It was a quiet week in Starling. I didn't make much progress with the Queen Consolidated legal documents, though. I'm sorry, Ollie. I'm not sure about getting your company back."

He shrugged. At the moment, it didn't seem important. "That's okay."

"I can show you what I found and we can talk about next steps," she offered. She glanced once more at Felicity. "That is, if you have time."

"Laurel-"

"It's okay, Oliver," Felicity said. "I've been away a week. I need to pick up my mail and check on my apartment. You should catch up on QC. We can finish this talk later."

"You're sure?" He studied her face to make sure she meant it. He'd spoken his piece, but she hadn't had the chance to speak hers yet. He was still a little fearful that she was avoiding him.

She smiled, and he saw that she wasn't.

"I'm sure, Oliver. I'm sure about a lot of things."

His heart gave a funny little skip.

"Good."