Chapter title: Busted Play

A/N: Thank you to each and every on of you who took the time to leave a review/comment on the last chapter. Enjoy the new chapter! More info in the end note.

Definition: busted play is a play which, due to unforeseen circumstances, deteriorates to the point that it no longer conforms with coach's playbook and leads to confusion or chaos on the field.

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Numbly, Oliver sinks down into the soft sofa cushions in his suddenly too big apartment. The constant rushing in his ears drowns out the voices around him. He knows he should be listening, making plans, coming up with a strategy, but he can't. His body is numb, completely unresponsive to his brain's urges to move, to do something. All the adrenaline from earlier is gone and all he can do is sit there and stare at his trembling hands.

"Ollie, I talked to my dad. He reached out to his old colleagues and every cop in Starling City is on the lookout for Connor. But I need you to send me a new photo of him, the only one I have is a year old."

He inhales sharply, trying to steady his ragged breathing. Two hours. It's been two hours since he got the call that his son is missing. Two hours of being scared out of his mind and feeling utterly helpless.

"Ollie, listen to me, we have to do this now," Laurel urges him. "Sara is preparing everything for the media and she also needs a photo, so can you at least give me your phone?"

Sitting here now, feeling this kind of desperation and downright terror, it's hard to believe that a little more than twelve hours ago he'd sat in this exact same spot with Felicity half draped over him and a feeling of happiness and contentment blossoming in his heart.

"Ollie."

He jerks his head up, meeting Laurel's worried glance. "Right, sorry." He digs his phone out of his pocket, but before he can hand it to his lifelong friend, an all too familiar photo flashes across the screen. Felicity.

"Please tell me you've found something," he rushes out after he picked up.

"No, I'm sorry," she says on the other end. His head slumps down in defeat. "I've set up different searches and scans of the city wide traffic camera network, and linked it with the FBI's facial recognition software that I tweaked a little bit. If Connor's out there, I'll find him." There's a confidence in her tone that gives him hope. "How are you holding up?"

He exhales loudly and runs a hand through his hair. "I'm-"

"Don't say fine."

"-fine," he finishes in the same breath. "Felicity..."

"It's okay not to be okay, Oliver. Your son is missing. You're not fine," she says gently.

"I just… He's out there. Alone. And I'm here, and I can't do anything. I don't even know if he has a jacket on and it's really cold outside and..."

"He has a jacket on," Felicity interjects quickly. "And a hat and scarf."

"What? How do you know that?"

She sighs softly. "I may have hacked into the school's network to look at the security footage you said they had. Well, that is after restoring the files that those dirty little bastards deleted. They're probably trying to cover up their mess. I hope you're suing their asses seven ways to Sunday when we find Connor."

Even now, when fear is holding his heart in a vice grip, this incredible woman somehow manages to make the situation just a little better by just being… Felicity.

He swallows past the lump of emotions in his throat. "Are there any traffic cams near the school?"

"I had the same thought. Yes, there are, but before you get your hopes up, all the cameras in that area as well as a lot of other cameras throughout the city are down for a routine software update that will run for another one and a half hours. That's probably why I haven't had any hits on my search yet."

He clenches his teeth in frustration. "Can we call whoever is running the updates and tell them to stop?"

"No, I already looked at the whole process and there's really nothing we can do. If we cancel the update the system will need about two hours to reboot," she sighs defeatedly. "We can only wait and hope that we get a hit on one of the cameras that is online. We will find him, Oliver, with or without the cameras."

"I hope you're right," he breathes out. In the background he can hear a knock on her door and her order not to disturb her.

"Sorry, there was some- Connor!" her sudden outburst catches him completely off-guard.

"What? Did you find him? Did you get a hit?" he asks quickly, getting up from his seat. Laurel shoots him a questioning look but he ignores her and starts pacing. "Felicity, talk to me."

"No, no," she stammers and he can hear her chair scrape against the floor and then the hurried clicking of her heels. "He's here. In my office."

There's some rustling and muffled voices, and he's almost certain that she held her hand over the phone's mic. "He's okay, a little cold and hungry, but otherwise he's okay," she assures him finally after three torturous seconds.

"Oh thank God," he breathes out in relief. "Put him on the phone, please."

"Hey, Connor, your dad wants to talk to you," he hears her say before his son's petulant reply. "I don't want to talk to him."

"Uh, he… I think he just needs some time right now."

"Give him the damn phone," he barks in response. He just wants to talk to his son, is that so hard to understand?

"Oliver-"

"Felicity," he grinds out between clenched teeth. "Give him the phone."

There are some more rustling sounds and then he hears his son's steady breathing.

"Con-" he starts, but is swiftly cut off.

"I don't wanna talk to you," is all he hears before the line goes dead.

He stares incredulously at his phone for a full five seconds before a surge of anger replaces his surprise.

What the fuck?

"What's going on, man?" Tommy asks as he comes closer to him.

"Connor's fine, he just turned up at Merlyn Global," Oliver bites out.

His best friend claps his hand together in relief. "Thank God."

Oliver's phone starts buzzing in his hand, his girlfriend's smiling widely at him from the screen.

"I'm coming over, stay in your office, I don't know if the media has already gotten wind of this," he sighs as he picks up.

"Look, Oliver, I know it's not exactly my place, but Connor seems really upset with you right now and maybe he just needs some time to… cool off," she suggests cautiously, just by the sound of her voice he can tell that she's nervously nibbling on her bottom lip.

"You're damn right, it's not your place," he growls into the phone. "I just spend the last two hours being scared out of my mind, so don't try to tell me what to do or not to do. I'm coming over to get my son."

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She stares at the phone in her hand, her mouth hanging open in shock. Did that really just happen? Did Oliver really go off on her like that?

"Felicity?" Connor asks quietly. "I'm really hungry."

She closes her eyes, counting to five in her head, before opening them again, shooting the little boy a warm smile. "I don't have anything to eat here, but there's a really good diner around the corner. They have the best hot chocolate in the whole city."

There's an amazed shimmer in his eyes that somehow tells her she's doing the right thing. "Really?"

"Really," she assures him and quickly shrugs on her coat before holding out her hand. "Let's go."

Not even ten minutes later, they're seated in her favorite diner, waiting for their orders. She'd fired off a quick text to Oliver, telling him where they were going, so he wouldn't be worried when he didn't find them in her office.

Once again her teeth are digging into her bottom lip as she contemplates her decision. If Oliver's earlier reaction is anything to go by, he won't be happy that she left her office with Connor. But what was she supposed to do? The boy was hungry and cold and by the looks of it in dire need of a friendly ear. Before they'd left the Merlyn Global headquarters, she'd quickly searched for any mentions of Connor's or Oliver's name on the internet. Only when her search had come up empty she'd left the building with one of the security guards in tow.

The waitress comes by their table with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, and Connor quickly wraps his little fingers around the warmth of his mug. Felicity takes a moment to observe him. He's remarkably calm, considering everything that has happened today. His cheeks and nose are a little rosy from the cold, but otherwise he seems to be in good physical health. Her gaze finds his as he's watching her with a curious glint in his eyes.

She smiles warmly at him and tilts her head to the side. "What?"

"Aren't you going to ask me why I came to your office?"

"Mhh," she hums and takes a cautious sip of her hot chocolate. "I thought you'd tell me when you're ready. Do you wanna tell me now?"

He considers her reply for a few seconds and finally nods his head. "I want to talk to you."

"Okay, about what?"

He sighs, and Felicity has to press her lips together to suppress the smile that threatens to break out when she sees the exasperated look on his little face that matches that of his father perfectly. "About my dad."

"Uh, oh-kay?"

"He told me that you're mad at him and that that's why you don't want to go to the zoo with us on Sunday. But I thought that if I talked to you maybe you'd change your mind."

"Oh," she breathes out, the puzzle pieces suddenly falling into place. "Connor, that's incredibly sweet of you. It really is, but you can't just leave school without telling anyone. You had us all worried, especially your dad. We even called the police to help us find you."

"I'm sorry," he mumbles and bows his head.

She reaches over the table to lay her hands on top of his. "Hey, look at me." He slowly lifts his head, big eyes staring up at her. "I'm just glad you're okay and that nothing bad happened to you, Connor. But please don't ever do something like this again."

He nods his head quickly. "Okay, I promise."

Their food arrives and they munch on their grilled cheese sandwiches and french fries for a while. "Why didn't you want to talk to your dad?" Felicity asks between bites.

"Because I'm mad at him," Connor replies grumpily. Before she can ask why, he continues, "He was the reason you didn't want to spend time with us because he lied to you. And he always tells me that lying is a bad thing, but then he did it to you."

"But you still wanted to fix this for him?"

"Yeah, I love my dad," he states matter-of-factly. "He smiles a lot more when you're there, you know? But this week he didn't smile, he was sad a lot, and I don't like seeing him like that, so I thought that I could help him be happy again. But then he told me that it was his own fault that you didn't come over anymore. He likes you and I like you, too, and I wanted to play Mario Kart with you, but I couldn't because dad made you be angry with him," he lets out in a rush, and even Felicity who's used to having scattered thoughts has trouble following so quickly.

"Oh, Connor, your dad and I-"

"There you are." Oliver's voice makes her jump a little in her seat in surprise.

She watches as he closes the distance between him and his son to engulf Connor in a tight hug that the young boy reciprocates with a little less fervor.

"Come on, little man, we're going home," Oliver says and grabs his son jacket.

Connor mumbles something under his breath that sounds a lot like "I'm not a little man" before he speaks up louder, "Can I go to the restroom first?"

She watches as a wave of wariness crosses over Oliver's face and she quickly turns to the young boy. "Connor?"

"I promise I'll come back."

Her eyes follow his path until he vanishes behind the restroom door and she turns to face Oliver who has plopped down into the seat opposite her that was previously occupied by his son.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he hisses, his eyes narrowing at her.

She leans back into the plush seat of the bench, taken aback by his harsh tone and cold eyes. "Uh, what?"

"You talked to him about his behavior today." It's a statement that has the bitter after taste of an accusation.

"Yes, I did," she says cautiously. "He wanted to talk to me and I listened and gave him my opinion."

His hand on the table curls into a fist. "You don't get to do that, Felicity, you're not his mother and just because we're dating doesn't mean that you have any right to interfere with my relationship with my son and it definitely doesn't give you the right to ignore what I tell you to do." His voice is low and measured, and, God, would she like to slap that cold and distant expression off his face.

"What you tell me to do?" She repeats incredulously. "I'm not one of your players that you get to boss around. I made a choice and I stand by it. Your son was hungry and needed someone to listen to him, so that's what I gave him. I did what I thought was best."

"You should've waited for me. I can listen to whatever he has to say," Oliver angrily throws at her.

She shakes her head sadly. "You know why he left school today and came to me?" She doesn't wait for his answer, and just continues, "He wanted to help you fix our relationship. He's a good kid, Oliver, and his heart is in the right place, but I think he's confused about what's going on between us and I honestly can't blame him. Maybe meeting him so early on in our relationship was a bit too hasty."

"Yes, it was."

Talk about feeling like someone punched her in the gut. She sees the flicker of regret run across his face but by then her eyes are already burning with unshed tears.

She clears her throat twice before she feels like her voice will sound at least somewhat normal. "I'm going to go back to the office." She takes a steadying breath. "I get that you were worried out of your mind and this situation is new to you, but that doesn't give you the right to treat me and our relationship like this. Come talk to me when you get your head out of your ass."

Just then, Connor rounds the corner but stops dead in his tracks when he sees that she's about to leave. "You're leaving?"

She silently wills her watery eyes away and crouches down to his level. "Yeah, I have to run back to the office, I missed a meeting this morning and my boss isn't too happy about that."

"Can I come with you? Maybe I can help you with your work," Connor suggests promptly.

"Always trying to save the world, aren't you, Super Man?" she smiles at him. "But no, you can't come with me. You gotta go home with your dad and talk to him."

"Aw, shucks," he mutters under his breath. "What about Sunday? Are we going to the zoo?"

The sheer amount of hope in his voice and the spark of excitement in his eyes are almost enough to say yes. Almost.

"No, Connor, I'm sorry," she whispers, her throat tightening when she sees the disappointed look on his face.

"When will I see you again?"

Her eyes flicker up to Oliver who's watching their exchange with a stony expression. Great, no help from him apparently.

She fixes her eyes on Connor once again, swallowing hard before replying, "I don't know."

In a split second he closes the distance between them and wraps his arms around her neck, pulling her into a hug. "Thank you for today," he whispers, and Felicity feels her throat clog up even more.

She can't do more than smile weakly at him when she gets up and rummages through her purse to find her wallet and throw some bills on the table. Just when she turns to leave, she feels a calloused hand on her forearm. The same calloused hand that was cupping her cheek, raking through her hair and creeping under her shirt to run up and down her spine last night. How bittersweet that memory feels now.

Her name falls from his lips in a whispered plea and she squeezes her eyes shut. She can't look at him, not right now, not after everything he said. Warmth seeps into every last pore of her body as she feels him step closer, leaving only an inch between them. It's too close and not close enough, at the same time.

His hot breath fans over her ear and she can't hide the involuntary shiver that runs through her body. "I'm sorry, Felicity," he whispers hoarsely. "I'll come by tonight." And then his lips are on her cheek, pressing a kiss to her skin and leaving their scorching, invisible mark.

She nods jerkily and spins around, having to get away from him before it gets too much. She makes it all the way to the door before the first tear hits the floor.

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A/N: Well, at least this tells you one thing: there will be another chapter! I'm making my way back across the big pond towards Chicago next Friday, so there are no guarantees that I'll update, because I'll probably be completely wrecked by the jet lag. Let's see what happens.

In the mean time, let me know what you think about this chapter!

I know this one was a good chunk shorter than any other chapter of this story, but for the life of me, I couldn't get myself to write anything fluffy or much of anything, in light of the tragic crash of the Germanwings flight in the French Alps that has especially us Europeans twisted up in knots.