"So now what?" Oliver breathed, still kissing her neck, "I don't think I can just walk away."

"I don't think I want you to," Felicity trembled, her hands knotting in his hair. She was still standing against the wall — Oliver pressing into her in all the right places — and she couldn't help but wonder what would happen next if Mia wasn't home.
"You have to go," she sighed, "she's going to come down soon."

"I know," he mumbled, stepping away from her, "but this conversation isn't over."

"No it's not," she agreed, walking him to the front door, "we'll talk later."
"I hope we do more than talk," he grinned, kissing the tip of her nose before opening the door and closing it behind him.

Felicity watched as Oliver strolled down the front walkway and over towards his car. A small part of her — bigger than she'd like to admit — wanted to climb into the passenger seat and tell him to drive them off into the sunset. She wanted nothing more than to be eighteen again so that she could run off with him and never look back.

But you aren't eighteen, she reminded herself, closing the front door as Oliver sped down the street. You're thirty two, a mom, a CEO, and you're going through a divorce. You have more responsibilities than you can handle. Do you really want to take on Oliver Queen? Do you want Mia to hate you for not telling her the truth about her father? Do you want to deal with the press eating you alive over keeping such a huge secret? Do you want to get between Oliver and his fiancee?

No, she didn't. She didn't want any of those things. But she wanted him, and she wanted him with every bone in her body.

At what cost? This has disaster written all over it. You know better.

"Mom," Mia shook her arm, interrupting her thoughts, "I'm leaving."

"You have everything you need?"

"Yes mom," Mia rolled her eyes, "can I go now? I'm going to be late."

"English project?"

"Yes."

"Biology essay?"

"It's not due until tomorrow."

"Lunchbox?"

"Oh crap!"

"Mmhm," Felicity laughed, "there's always something."

Mia rolled her eyes again — something she did frequently as a teenager — and stalked off to grab the lunchbox sitting on the counter.

"You sure are walking slow for someone who doesn't want to be late." Felicity teased, opening the front door, "Hunter called in sick today, so I'm driving you. Ready?"

Mia nodded and followed her out to the car, "I don't think you've driven me to school since sixth grade."

Felicity frowned, feeling a tad bit guilty. Having Hunter or Ray drop Mia off at school the past few years really wasn't that big of a deal — it wasn't like Felicity was skipping out on a milestone event — but it was another thing that normal mothers did that Felicity did not. Conventional work hours were something that she had kissed goodbye long ago. She spent more time at SmoakTech than she did at home. Ray used to tease her that she was in a polygamist marriage with her company and with him. The company was a lot more faithful, asshole.

When they were both settled in the car with their seat belts on, Felicity started the engine and reversed out of the driveway. "I'm sorry that I haven't been around as much as I should've been, Mia. There's just a lot that needs to be done at work. I know that's not an excuse but—."

"Mom, it's fine." Mia interrupted her, "Dad was there to take me places and check my homework. You never missed the big things."

It was true, Felicity had never missed a school play, a dance recital, or a spelling bee. She moved mountains to be at all of those events. But it was helping Mia practice her lines for a part, driving her to dance practices, and going over vocabulary late at night that Felicity wished she had also been a part of.

"The little things matter too, though." She murmured, patting Mia's knee, "I don't want to miss them anymore."

"I don't want you to either, Mom."

They drove in a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes before Mia reached to turn on the radio, "So what's the deal with Mr. Queen?"

Well actually, he's your father.

"What about him?"

"Why hadn't I heard of him until now?"

Because neither of you were ever supposed to know about each other.

"He's an old friend, sweetheart. So old that I forgot about him for a while."

As if you could ever forget him.

"Well I don't know how you could forget a face like that," Mia grinned, "he's hot."

"That's gross," Felicity grumbled. And incestual.

"I'm just saying," Mia shrugged, "he's hot for an old guy."

Felicity cringed, "Still gross."

She pulled into the school's parking lot, thanking her lucky stars that the current conversation was about to be terminated.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Mia stuck her tongue out, "I'll see you later."

"I'll pick you up," Felicity told her, "and we'll go shopping if you promise not to ever say that Mr. Queen is hot again."

"Deal," Mia laughed, climbing out the car, "but you know he is."

She sat there for a moment, smiling as she watched her daughter walk away. Mia was confident and beautiful and graceful and Felicity counted the heads that turned as her daughter strutted over towards her group of friends. The way she carried herself brought back memories of Oliver in high school, and Felicity felt her smile fade.

"Okay so the formula for density is what?" She quizzed him, trying not to fall flat on her face as she scrambled to keep up with his fast pace.

"Um," he paused, thinking, "P equals A over F."

"No, Oliver," she sighed, "You're thinking of the formula for pressure. But even then you're wrong because that's P equals F over A. The formula for density is P equals M over—."

She stopped talking, realizing that Oliver had left her side. He had strolled over towards Tommy, winking at anything with a pulse along the way.

"Oliver!" She was exasperated. He had to pass the chemistry final or else he would fail for the year.

He held one finger up, as if to put her on hold, and turned to start a conversation with one of the many bimbos that had surrounded him and Tommy.

Felicity felt her blood boil. His exam was in ten minutes and he couldn't even tell his ass from his elbow, much less the index of refraction from osmotic pressure.

"Oh no you don't," she grumbled, marching over towards him, "I'm sorry, Oliver has to go. You'll have to sink your claws in him another day."

She grabbed Oliver's arm and yanked him away from the stunned blonde.

"Felicity, what the fuck?" He groaned, "You're the ultimate cock block."

"Someone has to make sure you don't get herpes," she snapped, "she has slept with half of our baseball team."

"And your point is?" He grinned.

"My point is that the formula for density is actually P equals M over V," she grumbled, trying to get him back on track, "can you think with your brain and not your dick for five minutes?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but the warning bell cut him off.

"I have to go. I hope you don't fail."

He pulled her into a hug, and Felicity couldn't help but smile as she breathed in his familiar scent. It was the perfect mix of detergent, designer cologne, and Oliver.

"I'll be fine. I had a kick ass tutor," he assured her, resting his chin on the top of her head, "now go be a nerd and make a perfect score on your exam."

Reluctantly, she pulled away from him, "Will do. I'll see you later."

"Later, 'Lis!" He called after her, "Hey wait, it's Y equals MX plus B, right?"

"You're screwed," she laughed over her shoulder, "go to class!"

She could hear his answering chuckle, a sound so carefree and boyish that it made her grin like an idiot.

"You're screwed too, Smoak," she mumbled to herself, "so screwed."

When Felicity finally returned to reality, Mia was long gone and so were the other cars in the drop-off lane. She sighed, taking one last look at the spot where Mia had been standing, before pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the road.

As she drove towards SmoakTech, she couldn't help but go over everything that had happened that morning. Oliver met Mia. He brought her donuts. They both liked the ones with sprinkles. They even shared a hatred for coffee. He recognized that she was his daughter as soon as he saw her. Mia was still oblivious. They spent twenty minutes in the same kitchen and nothing catastrophic had happened. He wanted to be a part of her life. He didn't run. He loved Felicity. He loved Felicity. He loved Felicity.

And she loved him too.

But was that enough? It was enough for Felicity, but was it enough for Mia? Oliver had missed out on fourteen years of her life. He was a stranger to her, not a father. And Mia loved Ray. Nothing would ever change that. Ray was the one that kissed her scraped knees and let her dance while standing on his toes. Ray—regardless of blood—was Mia's father.

She will never trust you again. She will hate you. She will hate Oliver. She will look at you and see nothing but a chicken shit that ran away from the love her life and had his baby with another man. You will be a coward in her eyes.

As she locked her car door and strolled towards the entrance of SmoakTech, it became clear that the cons outweighed the pros. Felicity loved Oliver and wanted to be with him, but she loved her daughter more. And she knew that she could sacrifice her second chance at love if it meant that her daughter would be okay. She didn't need Oliver, she just wanted him. But wanting him was selfish and would undoubtedly destroy everything she had worked so hard for. She had a piece of him in Mia and that was enough. It had to be enough.

"Good morning, Ms. Smoak," Avery greeted her cheerfully, interrupting her thoughts, "coffee?"
"Not today," Felicity shook her head. She was wired enough. "Any messages for me?"

"Yes, ma'am. Your attorney called to make sure that you read all the clauses that you were supposed to. She also said she would be stopping by to finalize everything before your mediation."
"When will she be coming by?"

"I've cleared your schedule from two to three."
"Thank you. Any other messages?"
Avery shifted in her seat, looking slightly uncomfortable, "Mr. Palmer called and asked you to check your email."

Felicity nodded, feigning disinterest, "Thank you, Avery."

"Of course, Ms. Smoak."