#####OQ#####

Later, after their awesome shower, and his tasty breakfast, he stood on the porch, watching the surf break, as he tapped his foot and looked at his watch. If she didn't come on, they would late for lunch. The thought broke through his brain.

His Felicity was making them late and he didn't even feel mad about it.

A slow smile moved across his face as he fixated on the word "his" and his chest swelled, realizing he'd finally done some growing up.

In his younger days, if a woman irritated him, if she left him to cool his heels for a date, he'd been a jerk back then. Make him wait and he'd leave them to catch up with him later a party or not at all. Yeah, sometimes he'd even pick someone else up and his supposed date could walk away pissed.

His self-centered ass could have cared less but he would never leave his Felicity behind. Not after all the years he'd spent wanting and not having. They were a couple and together as a couple. He fought a huge satisfied smile that wanted to settle on his face since he stood there content and happy.

You might have PTSD, his mind whispered. You're damaged goods. One day she'll figure it out and leave you.

Shut up, he told his brain.

Instead, he thought of her, and he allowed his smile as she opened the door and stood there in her pencil skirt and a flowered blouse, her hair down and he swallowed hard as his heart raced.

And he reached out his hand to take her and guided her down the steps in her heels, while his mind raced thinking about stripping her bare.

"You know being late's my thing not yours," he told her, with a slight grin, as they got into the car.

"Sorry, it took forever to dry my hair. You and your shower put me behind schedule."

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat." He touched her face.

"Quit, I still need to work on my makeup." She already had a small bag unzipped and her hands worked on her face.

"You don't need it. You look wonderful." He grabbed another gear, speeding, to make up time.

She pulled the visor down and applied bright red lipstick using the mirror.

"I don't know why you're bothering."

She stopped in mid lipstick applying. "Huh?"

"You're wasting your time putting on lipstick, since I plan to kiss off of you in a couple of hours."

He took his eyes off the road in time to see her smile and say smugly, "My lipstick's kiss proof." Then she popped her lips in a kiss at him and winked, and he wanted to turn the car around and prove to her that he could kiss her lipstick off.

"I guess I'll have to put your lipstick to the test later." Jesus, he loved this part of normal, just like he loved her. And his silly smile crept back onto his face.

As he pulled into the driveway, she turned and touched his face, dragging her thumb down his cheek before she grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss into his palm. "You've got goofy grin."

"Maybe."

She laughed as he down shifted and parked the car.

"See, we're right on time." She smoothed her hair, as they entered the small family style restaurant around one.

Tall, still fit, he gauged Mae's husband to be in his early 60's. The man had broad shoulders, a wide chest and sported a small gray mustache, along with his three-piece suit.

His intense gray eyes glared into his, clearly gauging his worth.

And he could see "the judge" plainly in this man. His blank face spoke volumes that this man was obviously used to controlling his surroundings right down to when he smiled. He could identify since he possessed his own mask. Yet, he saw the clear flicker of distasteful in the man's eyes when his eyes swept over him.

"Mr. Queen, I heard how you saved my wife's life. I want to thank you."

Warren shook his hand, with an overly firm grip. A strong grip he didn't need in his opinion, but he didn't crush the judge's hand back. He'd learned years ago to withhold his show of strength, to appear weak, stupid, since it gave him an instant edge on his opponent, and he wasn't sure if he faced a friend or foe.

So he played weak Oliver.

Jesus, he should have been an actor.

He placed his fake smile on, slipped on his mask. "Please, call me Oliver, and you're welcome, but it anyone could have done what I did."

"And you may call him, Warren." Mae's voice dry. "And, I find that hard to believe. Remember I was there? The young man was higher than a kite and had a gun. Everyone in the entire room was screaming and running and you walked in and took him out with a coffee pot, in a matter of minutes. You reminded me of James Bond. Thank you."

"It was my pleasure and you're welcome." He gave a slight bow.

Mae laughed and squeezed her husband's hand, who pressed her hand back and kissed her hand, before he winked and released her.

"James Bond, huh?" Warren questioned.

Knowing the man attempted to size him up, he let the comment pass, as he met the man's intense and questioning glaze.

"And I'm Felicity Smoak."

"My fiancée," he broke in, and he couldn't help the pride in his voice.

Mae's face lit up into a wide grin, and she hugged them both. "Well, congratulations are in order. You need to let us throw you an engagement party. Felicity, we'll talk. Oliver, it's about time you ask her."

Mae's pride washed over him like warm water. He'd spent time with Mae, during Felicity hospital stay, and although, he found her a bit eccentric, she plainly had her heart in the right place, and he genuinely liked and respected the older woman. Not to mention, she'd saved Felicity's life, something he would owe her for forever. "Thank you, Mae," he said quietly.

"No ring, yet?" Mae gave him an encouraging grin.

"I'm working on it." His tone somber.

Felicity turned on him. "I hope you know I'd never wear one of YOUR mother's rings."

"Can we talk about this later?"

"I know you talked to your sister this morning." And the look she gave him was pointed. "And want to be clear I'm not wearing a ring that costs more than my apartment and car combined."

"Felicity. Maybe now is not the time for this discussion." He cleared his throat.

But she didn't take the hint.

"I won't wear it, Oliver. I mean it. I'd be afraid I'd lose it or something bad would happen to it."

He tried not to look guilty since he'd sent Thea to check the vault for his grandmother's ring. A ring valued over at over ten thousand dollars.

Now, Warren cleared his throat, probably in an attempt not to laugh, and Mae broke the uncomfortable silence, by saying brightly, "I'm starving. Let's order shall we?"

"Yes," Felicity agreed. "Let's order. I'm not much of a breakfast person, so I adore lunch."

He sat there, worried about giving her his grandmother's ring, but he still noted Warren's eyes lit up when they fell on Felicity form, and even though he felt foolish, since he knew the man was no competition, a possessive tug clutched at him.

Stepping toward her, he couldn't stop from placing his hand on her elbow and steering her toward the chair next to Mae's. Then he sat between her and Warren.

A short time later, they'd ordered drinks and food and exhausted the nice weather topic and the how Felicity felt today topic. Talk had stayed far away from questions about rings or weddings.

But still relief filled him when the food arrived, since it gave them all something to do but talk. Until he realized eating a few bites filled him up since he had eaten a large breakfast. And, he'd spent too long starving in those five long years he'd been gone that he ate little and the last few months at Nanda Parbat had shrunk his stomach even further.

Plus, if he threw in his damn dream that had him throwing up these last few weeks, clearly his stomach had shrunk. Okay, hopefully he'd banished the dream, thanks to Felicity.

He found himself thinking about how long he'd suffered, and it'd been simple, easy to change the dream with her help. Yes, once again she'd been right and he hoped the damn dream never came back. Snapping back to sitting at the table, he realized Warren must have asked him something, and he'd zoned out, and now everyone looked at him.

As normal, Felicity jumped in and saved him by answering for him, "We're not sure how long we're staying here yet." Then she kicked him under the table and gave him a clear PAY ATTENTION look.

Quickly, he turned the talk to Felicity upgrading the hospital's network, something he knew nothing about, and forced himself to pay attention, to gauge Warren's personality all while moving the food around on his plate.

"Oliver, is the food not to your liking?" Mae asked.

He gave her a small smile. "Large breakfast."

The waitress, who clearly knew the older couple, finally cleared the plates, and they ordered coffee, which he declined with the words, "I'm watching my caffeine."

Then Felicity and Mae excused themselves for a minute leaving him alone with Warren.

The second they were out of earshot, Warren settled back in his chair. "So, tell me why you'd want to coach a team of misfit juveniles who are on their last chance, or they're headed to jail and who'll probably end up in prison?"

"I'm not sure I do. This was your wife's idea, not mine."

"Well, at least you're honest."

Not hardly ever but he held his silence.

"Well, I'm sorry I've wasted your time." Warren folded his napkin and laid it on the table.

"I haven't exactly said no yet."

"But you haven't said yes either." Warren leaned forward, his tone earnest. "You need to understand these kids need someone who'll commit to them. Let me put my cards on the table, shall I?"

He nodded.

"I'm a juvenile judge and how I ended up here, I won't go into but I am. It's my job and one I take seriously. And I have an abundance of deadbeat dads and now deadbeat moms that don't take their jobs as parents seriously, which leaves an abundance of kids caught in a broken system. You'd be surprised how many moms turn their backs and walk off and never look back. So these kids have had enough people who bailed on them when the going gets tough, and what I don't need is a man who'll run at the first sign of trouble."

His stomach plunged, thankful those words hadn't come from Felicity's mouth. Guilt gnawed at his stomach, as he remembered he'd endangered her by running from her.

"Now what I do have is a group of bright teenagers who could do something with their lives other than spend their lives in the jail. If we can change their paths, give them something positive to be a part of, we could change their lives."

Warren's passion for his project shown in his eyes and voice, and to have passion for something he understood. He looked deep to Warren's gray eyes and stated, "I normally don't commit to things I don't want to do unless I have a good reason, and if I do bother to commit to something, then I see it through to the end."

"Brave words, but frankly, I've looked you up and there's a lot to read, most of it not good. First a regular bad boy in your youth, and then supposedly marooned on an island for five years?"

He bit his lip and kept his silence.

Warren waited and then continued, "And in the time since your rescue, you've been shrouded in accusations, some serious accusations. I really don't understand what I've found. Who are you exactly?"

What could he say?

Hi, I'm a damaged ex-billionaire, ex-play boy, ex-assassin, ex-torturer, and the man, who used to be the Hood, then the Arrow, the heir to Ra's who handed over the reign of the League of Assassins to a psychopathic liar because I'm a man in love, and I wanted to be with Felicity. Or how about I'm a total mess inside, and I keep making bad choices and becoming a coach might be just another bad choice.

No, that sounded crazy, even to him.

Warren tapped his fingers against the table. "And you answer me with silence? I find silence to be an admission of guilt in my courtroom. Something I put people in jail for."

Oh yes, the man glared at him with his tough judge stern look. He'd seen judges with that look before, back in his youth when his parents' influence and money insured that all the judges gave him was a stern look and an official warning.

But he'd grown up a lot since then, and he met Warren's hard look with one of his practiced own. "We aren't in your courtroom, and I'm just a man, yes, a man with certain skills, but I don't believe you're looking for someone that came from a business meeting, wearing a three-piece suit."

Warren laughed before adding, "No, you're right, I need someone from the wrong side of the tracks, someone who can handle themselves."

"Someone these kids can't bully around, you mean."

"Exactly, the last coach only lasted two practices and then quit because he broke his arm. Of course, he refused to say how he broke his arm."

Now that told him volumes, and brought out his dark voice, "I'm not going to let them hurt me. And they won't break my arm, teens or not, I'll defend myself if need be."

"So, my wife told me, and I would expect you to defend yourself, but I would also expect you to try not to hurt them. They may look grown up, but they're still juveniles. And I don't want to see the headline, 'Soccer Coach puts Teenager in the Hospital.' Whatever happens, no bad press. It would be horrible for the program."

"I know how to restrain someone without leaving marks."

"I'm sure you do. Again, I want to thank you for stopping that kid from shooting Mae that night in the ER." Warren leaned forward. "I love my wife. And if Mae thinks you'd be good at being a coach, then I'm willing to give you a chance."

"That's good to know but I hear a but."

"You're right. But I need to know you're vested in this project, so can you give one good reason why an ex-playboy like you would even be interested in coaching? Why you would even consider volunteering your time?"

Returning from their trip to the lady's room, Felicity and Mae had stopped at the window deep in conversation, and he wondered what the older woman had told her when she frowned and shook her blonde head.

Giving a small nod toward them, he watched the women before looking back at Warren. "I owe your wife. She's saved Felicity's life more than once, and I can never repay that. And Felicity wants to stay here a while, and she asked me to consider coaching. And since both Felicity and Mae believe it would be good for me to have something productive to do, I trust their judgments."

Warren turned and looked at the two women headed back to the table. He nodded his head and gave a slight knowing smile. "The things we do for our women." And he watched Warren look across the restaurant at his wife. "Yes, we as men can fool ourselves, but our women often decide what's best for us. And as a man, who's been married a long time, let me tell you from experience, Mae's normally right in her decisions."

"I've noted she's a force to be reckoned with."

Warren laughed and his eyes moved back to him, "Well that's one way to describe her. Now do you have time to come by my office tomorrow around two? I'll get you copies of their case files, so you'll understand what you're up against. Oh, and do you speak Spanish?"

"Very little."

"You might start learning if you want to know what they're calling you. And I'd start with the insults."

He grinned and nodded his head. "Until tomorrow then."

Warren reached into his pocket and produced a piece of paper. "Here's my card. My address is on it."

He took the card, and the discussion turned to sports as soon as the two women returned to the table.

#####OQ######

"You're too quiet. Spit it out."

Headed back to the house, he put his hand on her knee and gave it a squeeze. "Okay, what did Mae say to you this time?"

"How did you know?"

"Mind reader."

"You and your attempts at being funny. Keep trying." She gave him a small grin then ask, "Why didn't you eat lunch today?"

"I wasn't hungry. Remember, I ate a big breakfast."

"Three hours before hand. I thought we had this problem solved. You changed the dream last night. You didn't get sick. But, Mae pointed out to me that you didn't eat. You pushed your food around on your plate. Why didn't you eat lunch?"

"Okay, I'm busted."

"That's all you've got to say that you're busted?"

"Well I am."

"Why, do you have to make talking to you so hard?"

He grinned. "Practice?"

"And at what age did you become convinced your smile got you out of trouble?"

He laughed and shrugged. "I don't know, but young, I'm sure."

"Probably still in the crib," she said dryly. "Now answer the question."

"What question?"

"Oliver!"

"I wasn't hungry." He hedged, not wanting to talk about why he ate so little, as memories of starving at Nanda Parbat filled his mind.

"Then I'll move on to the next question. Why have you lost a weight and muscle since our time together in Nanda Parbat? Where did your muscle go? Didn't Ra's feed you?"

He didn't want to talk about it, but she kept pushing, even after he parked the car and got out. Sitting down on the porch steps, he hung his head, willing her to stop pushing him, to stop asking questions about that time, and to just let it go, but he knew she didn't like to let things go. No her brain didn't work like that.

"You're avoiding again."

"Yeah, I know I am."

"Tell me the truth, face this."

"I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it. I want to forget it. Please, Felicity, stop."

"But we both know the dreams won't let you forget and by suppressing the memories you're asking the dreams to haunt you. Come on bring it in to the light." She reached for his hand and laced her fingers with his. "Do you want me to tell you what I think happened to you?"

She waited, but he let the silence continue, so she sat down beside him, smoothing her skirt with her hands. "I think Ra's did something to your food. Something that made you stop eating. I think you starved yourself. You've lost weight, and not just weight, you've lost muscle. What did Ra's do to you? You can tell me. Please tell me. Share and let it go."

He shut his eyes and his word came out bitter. "After you and the team left, I couldn't think if I ate their food. Not that Ra's wanted me to think. No, he wanted me to obey and to forget who I was, so I'm sure he ordered them to taint my food, to poison my food."

"Oh, I knew it had to be something like that."

"So, I could eat or I could think, and I needed to think, to plan. And I trained hard and the weight, the muscle fell off me. I trained hard, since I honestly wanted to kill him. I wanted to come home to you. I missed all of you, all of my team but I missed you the most."

And talking about Ra's built the anger in him, ignited his hate. His heart started to race, and he began to shake from the anger engulfing him.

"So you stopped eating didn't you? You ate fruit and veggies?"

"Yes, I ate a lot of fruit. I starved myself, so I could think. I was hungry all the time, but if I ate I wasn't me. And still they managed to get the poison in me. Even only eating and drinking a little I lost myself." He placed his hand on his chest. "The part that's me, disappeared, and I struggled to hold on. And the poison they fed me made me angry. . . . I . . . I stayed in a constant rage. I could barely contain myself. Ra's wanted me to kill and I wanted to."

His hands had a slight tremble now, and he fisted them to make it stop, as his fury rose along with his heart rate.

"Ok, that makes sense. Thank you for sharing. I knew you weren't yourself when you came to take Nyssa back to Ra's. I just didn't know why. So you can't eat very much right now, huh?"

"No, it's like when I came home from the island. I'm struggling not to drop anymore weight. I can't eat enough to offset how much I'm running, so I keep dropping weight."

"Maybe you could back off on the running?"

"I need to run, and I need to replace my muscle but my stomach's small. I can't eat much at a time and the dream's made me not want to eat at all. I can't talk about this anymore. I need to stop now." He put his head in his hands.

She touched his arm, and he flinched and shut his eyes to fight the burning rage inside him as the flashbacks started. All the things he didn't want her to know, the repeated beatings, his time in the dungeon, her death threats if he didn't give her up, the senseless killing, his burning hate, his helplessness, all the evil things Ra's had done to him to try to suck him into the darkness.

His breath came in short gasps.

She talked to him, but he couldn't focus, and as he came back, he worried he'd lost control.

And he realized, he'd scared her, and he shook in fury. "Did I hurt you?"

"Shh, never, you did good telling me. Thank you for sharing but you need to come back. Don't think about that time anymore. Look at me. I don't know where you are but come back to me."

Her frightened face came into clear view, and he felt her rubbing his back, trying to soothe him, and his mind savored her touch.

"Come on, back the anger down. Remember the sunset from the other night? Can you see it in your mind? Remember how happy we were. Reach for the good memory. Use it to push the bad away."

He listened to her words, as they calmed him. "Yes, see the orange sun sinking in the ocean, feel me in your arms. Remember the way you could smell the ocean." His breathing leveled out. His control returned. He stepped away from the anger, away from Ra's, and away from the darkness, and back into the light that was pure Felicity.

"I can smell you," his voice quiet. "From the moment you enter a room, I smell you. I don't know if it's your shampoo or you, but I love the way you smell like vanilla and wildflowers and the way you taste drags me in." And he framed her face with his hand and gave her a soft kiss.

When he broke the kiss, she wrapped her arms around him. "I like the way you smell too, and I love the way you taste. Better now?"

He nodded then pulled her in his lap, wrapping his arms around her and breathing in her scent, and she grounded him, centered him.

She sighed and told him. "Mae wants you to have a full medical workup. She wants to check your heart, stay on top of your blood pressure and your cholesterol levels. She still believes you could have a heart attack or a stroke. And I don't want to lose you, so will you do the tests? Please, don't make me lose you." She turned and pressed her face into his chest, and he sighed deeply.

"Okay, if it will put your mind to rest. I'll do it. But for now, I have been wanting to try to kiss your lipstick off you for a couple hours now. And you know how much I like a challenge."

And she giggled as his lips found hers.

And he framed her soft face and took time kissing her lipstick off, and they spent the rest of the afternoon in bed, intertwined.

#####OQ#####