"Lissy? Lissy!"

Felicity started at the sound of her name and turned to Iris and Laurel who were sitting across the table from her, staring in expectant confusion.

It was the first Saturday morning the three of them spent together since they had gone on their respective vacations, so presumably they had a lot to catch up on. Except that Felicity had been paying very little attention since she sat down.

"Where is your head at, girl?" Iris prodded. "You've been staring at your coffee for five minutes straight without saying a word. You haven't even eaten your jelly doughnut."

"Yeah, and you better because you know neither of us is going to eat it," Laurel joked.

"Right," Felicity said absently as she pulled the doughnut onto her napkin. "Right."

Laurel and Iris exchanged loaded glances as they watched Felicity go back to staring at her coffee. To say that this was out of character for her was an understatement. In fact, neither of them could remember the last time they spent an extended period of time without Felicity saying something.

"Lissy, what's going on?" Laurel asked gently. "You've been so quiet since you got back from Central City."

Felicity shrugged as she stirred her coffee. "Nothing. Just tired."

It wasn't that she was lying, exactly. Felicity was indeed tired, but mostly because she hadn't been getting a lot of sleep the past few days. And the reason she hadn't been sleeping well was because she couldn't stop thinking about a certain blue-eyed billionaire who lived in Star City.

After Oliver dropped his confession on her like an atomic bomb and after she rejected him as furiously as she could, she spent a four-hour long car ride back to Hertfordshire with Iris in fuming silence. Being the good friend that she was, Iris could tell that Felicity didn't want to talk about it, so she didn't press her.

It gave Felicity time to come down from her anger. In those quiet four hours, she turned the memory over and over in her mind, wringing out every last bit of indignation until all she was left with was a sense of relief. Relief that she would never have to run into Oliver Queen again, and relief that he wouldn't have anymore chances to ruin her life or ruin her family's lives.

When she got back to Hertfordshire, she came to the conclusion that she would keep Oliver's confession to herself. She didn't want to tell Iris because she had already spent four hours reliving the awful moment in her head, and telling Iris would only force her to relive it a few more times. She didn't have the strength to do it again.

And she didn't want to tell Laurel because doing so would involve telling her that Oliver was the reason she and Tommy broke up. And Laurel was still trying to move on. Telling her sister this latest development would seriously impede her progress.

So once again, she kept it to herself.

Felicity found that she was keeping a lot of things to herself recently.

Laurel and Iris didn't press Felicity any further, so they moved on to other topics. Laurel started talking about the prosecution of Werner Lytle, AKA The Count, and Iris talked about her next planned trip to Central City now that she and Barry were official.

Once their coffee time was over, Iris and Laurel decided to go shopping, but Felicity was too tired to join them. She waved goodbye and trudged home, hoping to catch a nap to make up for all the crappy sleep she'd gotten as of late.

Once she walked through the front door, she found her mother sitting in the living room with her feet propped up on the coffee table and the remote in one hand. "Hey, sweetie," she greeted. "How was coffee?"

"Fine," she answered.

Donna leaned forward for the stack of envelopes on the coffee table next to her feet. "Oh, before I forget! You got something in the mail."

Felicity frowned a little as she stepped forward to take the envelope from her mother's outstretched hand. She turned it over and saw that there was no return address. Just her name and her address in fine, precise handwriting.

"Thanks," she murmured. Then she turned on her heel to start back for her room.

"Wait!" Donna cried. It had not escaped her notice that her daughter was acting much weirder than she had before she left for Central City, and it worried her. "Sweetie, are you all right?"

"Yeah," Felicity answered. "Why?"

"You're just...I don't know, you're just not your normal, chipper self. Is something going on?"

"No, nothing's going on. I'm just tired is all."

"All right," Donna said slowly, even though she didn't believe her. "But if there was something going on, you know you can tell mama, right? I'm always here for you sweetie, no matter what."

Felicity shot her mother a small, grateful smile. "Yeah, I know."

She went back up to her bedroom with the envelope in hand. Once the door was closed, she ran her finger along the seal and pulled out two sheets of heavy stationary, filled with the same clean handwriting found on the envelope.

Curiously, she unfolded the letter and flipped to the back, hoping for some clue as to who it was from. She skipped to the closing, and her eyes widened in surprise at the name.

Oliver Queen.

There wasn't a word in the English language that could accurately describe the level of surprise and confusion she felt. What could Oliver possibly be doing, writing her a letter? After the last time they spoke, what more could he say? What more could she want to hear from him?

What was the point?

But Felicity's curiosity got the better of her, and reluctantly, she started reading.

Dear Felicity,

I know this letter may seem out of the blue, and you might be thinking that there's nothing I can say or do that would make anything that I have done justified in your eyes. I understand if this is the case. But I also understand that there are often two sides to every story. You have heard one side, and now I beg you to learn mine. If, after you have read this letter, your opinion is unchanged, then so be it. But please allow myself the chance to explain.

It's no secret to you or to anyone else that Tommy and I are children of wealth. But — and forgive me if this sounds too self-aggrandizing — Tommy and I were far different than any run-of-the-mill millionaire that got invited to join the Star City Country Club. Our parents, both heads of huge, multinational corporations had a kind of wealth that set us apart from everyone else. And that wealth has given us a lot of opportunities of which we're extremely grateful.

But it also hasn't been without its difficulties.

Our entire lives, we've had to look out for people who wanted to know us for our wealth. When I was in first grade, a boy named Carter Bowen befriended me. We shared lunches, we traded video games and comic books. We were the best of friends. For his seventh birthday, he had a party at his house, and while it wasn't as big as my own, he was no means living without. For his present, my mom picked out a nice sweater. When he opened it, he made a face and said, "You're supposed to be rich, Oliver." Then he tossed it aside before moving on to his other presents.

After that he stopped talking to me. At school, after school, Cub Scouts — Carter wouldn't even look me in the eye. My first grade best friend had abandoned me for reasons I couldn't understand, and when I told my mother, she sat me down and explained that all my life people would try to befriend me for my money, and that I had to be exceedingly careful with how I chose my friends.

It was a lesson that stuck with me ever since.

My sister too has had trouble figuring out who her true friends are. There was a time during her junior year of high school when she fell in with a bad crowd. She started taking drugs and drinking underage, in addition to shoplifting. On her eighteenth birthday, she got so high on cocaine that she ended up crashing the Porsche our mother gave her as a present. We had to hire several lawyers to defer her sentence. She entered into rehab and I'm proud to say she's been clean ever since. She's also learned to choose her friends more carefully.

And, of course, Tommy. I met him in high school and we instantly became close. He had his own wealth and his own trust fund, and I never had to second guess whether he was being nice to me just for my money and social influence.

But Tommy was also far too trusting for his own good. See, he never learned the lesson I had to when I was young, and he got himself into many close calls. Once, in our senior year of high school, the girl he was dating at the time claimed she was pregnant with his child. Tommy, as a genuinely good person, was ready to propose and raise the child as his own. I, however, persuaded him to take a paternity test, and the results showed that Tommy was not the father. It turned out that Tommy's girlfriend had been cheating on him, and once she got pregnant, she wanted Tommy to be on the hook for a child that wasn't his so she could have access to his wealth.

I've always had to look out for Tommy in this way. Then we went to Hertfordshire this past summer and he fell in love with your sister. As usual, I was very wary, but Tommy had me convinced that it was only going to be a summer fling, and that it would be over by the time we went back to Star City. But instead he fell hard, harder than I'd ever seen him fall for anyone in his life.

And I couldn't blame him. Your sister is not without her charms, but I watched them carefully every chance I could. At the dinner we went to early on in their relationship, she engaged in lively conversation with Tommy, but still remained aloof in a way I couldn't put my finger on. At every subsequent gathering, she continued to remain emotionally distant, and I began to worry that Tommy would once again find himself in trouble that he wouldn't be able to get himself out of.

Then, one day, when I was sitting in the coffee house one afternoon, I overheard a conversation of older women by my table. As they talked among themselves, they had mentioned your family, and how five years ago your mother and stepfather had run into some financial troubles. The conversation devolved into speculation over whether your family had emerged from the hole and whether it might happen again. This, of course, had me even more concerned for Tommy.

The night before the party at Netherfield, I sat him down. He admitted that he wanted the relationship to last past the summer, but I convinced him that it wasn't wise. It wasn't in his best interest, especially when we knew so little about Laurel and her family. He eventually agreed, and we decided to leave the day after the party.

By now, I imagine that you are seething with fury, and rightfully so. I can't blame you in the slightest for being angry with me and the precautions I took. Having met you and having gotten to you know you at the party and in Central City have corrected the assumptions I made. I see now that I was wrong about you and your sister, perhaps more wrong than I have ever been in my life, and for that I am truly sorry. I ask for your forgiveness, but I understand if you choose not to give it.

The only defense I have is this: I have seen your devotion to your sister first hand. I have seen how you would do anything to protect her from physical or emotional harm.

Well, Tommy may not be related to me by blood, but I consider him very much to be my brother, and he is someone for whom I would walk through fire, just as you would for your own sister.

I once again offer my sincere apologies, and I hope one day you may seek fit to forgive me.

Love,

Oliver Queen

When Felicity was finished reading, she looked up from the letter, her tired brain swimming in a confusing sea of new information. She didn't know what to think or what to say, so she read it again. And again. And again.

By the fifth rereading, her brain finally started to grasp onto the more salient points. The first point: Oliver Queen was paranoid — somewhat rightfully — about the people who wanted to be close to him and his friends.

Felicity could understand that to an extent. While she would have killed for the opportunities Oliver grew up with, she could see how his family's wealth and influence would have made it difficult for him to figure out who his real friends were. The story about Carter Bowen and Tommy's high school girlfriend would have scared anyone.

The second point: Oliver intervened on Tommy's behalf partly because Laurel didn't seem all that into Tommy.

Felicity rebelled against the reasonableness of the second half of that point almost on instinct. Anyone in the world would have been able to see that Laurel was so head over heels in love with Tommy Merlyn that she would have followed him to the ends of the earth. It showed in Laurel's eyes every time he was around, and when he wasn't, she wouldn't shut up about him.

But, a voice in her head protested, remember what Iris had first said after Tommy and Laurel first met? Iris had warned that Laurel needed to be more expressive about her feelings. She warned that not everyone would be able to read Laurel as well as Felicity could.

The more she thought about it, the less sure she felt about it. In social settings, Laurel sometimes could be shy in a big group of people. And of course Tommy and Oliver were never present at their girl talk sessions when Laurel gushed about Tommy. How were they ever supposed to know? And also, Laurel was reluctant to broach the topic of their future once the summer was coming to an end.

The thought that Laurel hadn't been as expressive as she thought made Felicity uneasy. So she set that aside for the moment.

And last, but not least, the last point: Oliver believed that her family was a bunch of gold diggers.

It was no secret to the town that five years ago, Felicity had to drop out of MIT during her sophomore year because her family had run into financial issues. But very, very few people knew the cause of those financial issues. Sure, there was speculation and gossip, but no one knew the true, full story. The only two people Felicity had ever told outside the family were Barry and Iris, and she knew they would never tell a single soul.

So without knowing the extenuating circumstances or even the context of how it all went down, Felicity could see how Oliver might have gotten spooked over what he overheard. Hell, she would have freaked out too.

With a groan, she fell backward onto her bed, her head hitting her pillow with a loud thwap. That fucking incident, she thought darkly to herself. It kept coming back to bite her entire family in the ass, over and over again. Just when she thought she had gotten over it, there it was, once again poking at her dormant ire.

All in all, it left her a confused tired mess, and Felicity no longer knew what to think.

Felicity sighed, rolled over and threw the folded letter onto her bedside table. While her brain was a jumble of mixed emotion, there was one thing she was absolutely sure of.

She was exhausted. And she needed a freaking nap.

Felicity would have loved nothing more than to be able to forget all about Oliver's letter. She would have loved to have read it once, then put it completely out of her mind forever.

But that, unfortunately, wasn't the case.

After she woke up from her nap, she read the letter again. And she read it the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. And so on and so forth for two whole months. She practically had the thing memorized in its entirety by the time December rolled around.

Privately, she came to several conclusions about the letter. First, Oliver's actions, while having come from a good place, were still inexcusable. She could understand his devotion to his best friend, and she could understand his wariness. But it simply was not OK for him to break up a couple without at least trying to confirm that his suspicions were correct. He acted out of paranoia and bad faith as much as he was acting out love for his friend.

For breaking up Laurel and Tommy, she could not forgive him.

All that said, however, she had to reluctantly admire how much he loved Tommy. From his story about Carter Bowen in the first grade, Felicity realized it must not have been very easy for him to make friends as a young kid, so it was important to him to hold on to the ones he could trust. It was almost admirable how loyal he was, and it made her reassess her initial conclusion that he was nothing more than an unfeeling robot.

And finally, she realized that she and Oliver had much more in common that she ever could have imagined.

Felicity looked up Thea Queen's history and saw tabloid stories and paparazzi pictures of her stumbling out of cars with wild eyes, surrounded by people who likely weren't trying to get her home in one piece. She also saw pictures of the wrecked Porsche, Thea's mugshot, images of the young socialite crying in court during her arraignment.

That was the thing about drugs and addiction, Quentin would say. They didn't care who was rich and who was poor. Addiction was as egalitarian as it was ruthless.

She didn't dare talk about the letter with anyone. When she wasn't rereading it, she kept it folded up and tucked away in the pages of her journal, where no one would happen upon it.

Felicity had been taking on so many secrets lately, and she couldn't figure out when or how it started. It felt almost like one day she woke up and all of sudden she couldn't talk to anyone in her life about what was actually going on with her. It was a mix of being afraid that no one would understand how she felt and a genuine worry of how her secrets might affect her friends.

She wasn't the only one keeping things secret though. Despite the fact that Tommy had left in the middle of September, it was very obvious to Felicity that Laurel still had feelings for him. Every time Felicity mentioned Tommy or even mentioned something laterally related to him, Laurel's shoulders would hunch in a defensive posture. And sometimes, at night, Felicity could hear quiet sobs coming from her sister's room across the hall.

All in all, it wasn't really a banner winter for the Smoak-Lance girls, but they tried their hardest to keep their game faces. By the time the holidays rolled around, they were more or less back to acting like their normal, chipper selves. Sara was still overseas, but she sent her presents in time for their annual joint Hanukkah/Christmas celebration and she Skyped with the family on Boxing Day.

Life for the Smoak-Lances had gone back to the relative peace before Tommy Merlyn and Oliver Queen had upended their lives.

And what was more, two weeks into the new year, Felicity had finally hit a long-awaited milestone.

One Friday afternoon, she came home by throwing the front door open, touting a triumphant expression and a bottle of champagne.

"MOM! DAD! LAUREL!" she shouted as she slammed the door shut behind her in her excitement. "COME TO THE KITCHEN, I HAVE NEWS!"

When the family had gathered in the kitchen, Felicity was already waiting for them, four flutes of champagne fizzing at the ready. She handed one to each perplexed member before turning her beam to the rest of them.

"I can finally announce," she began dramatically, "THAT I HAVE OFFICIALLY PAID OFF MY STUDENT LOANS!"

Donna was the first to scream in excitement. "Oh, honey!" she shouted. "Congratulations! That's so big!"

"Yeah, way to go, Lissy," Laurel beamed as she hugged her sister.

"I'm very proud of you, young lady," Quentin nodded with a twinkle in his eye.

The four of them toasted to Felicity's news, and in her giddiness, the woman of the hour practically downed all the champagne in her flute with one swallow.

"So what's next?" Quentin asked as they all sat down around the dinner table.

"Well, I have close to fifteen thousand dollars in savings," Felicity said. "I think that might be enough to move to a big city and find an internship or maybe work as an IT grunt somewhere. Those kinds of jobs don't pay very well, but with my savings I figure I'll be able to survive for a little while, as I try to work up."

"Do you know where you want to go?" Laurel asked.

"Not yet, but when I went to Central City and took that tour of STAR Labs, Dr. Wells said he'd be willing to help me. Maybe I can move to Central City. Or even Coast City to work at Ferris Air. Or Wayne Enterprises in Gotham. There are so many possibilities."

Felicity smiled happily to herself as she thought about it. After five years of hard, boring and slightly demeaning work and saving every single penny she earned, she'd finally be able to live her dream. She'd finally get to move to a big city and work at a prestigious tech company. She'd finally get to use her immense intelligence for something other than setting up a home wireless router.

Finally, finally, finally she'd get to make a difference.

"Oh, sweetie." Donna reached across the table to take her daughter's hand. She was smiling, but there were also tears pooling in the bottom of her eyes. "Is it weird to say that I'm so proud of you for this, but I'm also heartbroken at the thought that you will leave home for good?"

She smiled back at her mother and squeezed her hand. "Don't worry, Mom. I still have to find a job first. And once I do, I promise I'll come back to visit as much as I can."

Quentin reached over to put his arm around his wife and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Don't worry, sweetheart. It's time Lissy finally left the nest. She should have left a long time ago."

She smiled up at her stepdad and he sent her a wink. It was good to know he had her back.

Later that week, Felicity sent an email to Dr. Wells telling him that she was finally in a comfortable enough financial position that she could start looking at jobs in bigger cities. She begged him to keep an eye out for her if he heard of anything, and he responded within hours that he would most definitely ask around for her.

A few days later, Felicity got a call from a number with a Star City area code she didn't recognize.

For a brief moment, she stared down at her phone while she bit her lip in consternation. There were very few reasons she'd get a call from someone in Star City, but the most likely scenario was that Oliver Queen was on the other end. And for what purpose, she had no clue.

After an inward battle over whether to answer it, her curiosity (as always) got the better of her and she swiped her screen to answer.

"Hello?"

"Yes, is this Felicity Smoak?"

"Yes?"

"Hi, Felicity." The voice was warm and polite and one she didn't recognize. Her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. "My name is Curtis Holt and I'm the vice president of technology at Unidac Industries in Star City. I actually got your number from Dr. Harrison Wells in Central City. I hope you don't mind that I gave you a call."

All the consternation Felicity felt over the unknown Star City number immediately melted away when he mentioned Dr. Wells. "Oh, that's totally fine!" Felicity squeaked.

"Great. Well I called him the other day because he knows practically every up-and-comer in the science and tech fields, wanting to know if he knew any promising young candidates for a job opening we have here at Unidac. We're looking for a projects manager, someone who can oversee and direct a few of the projects we've got in the works. And he immediately mentioned your name."

She could feel the excitement bubbling her blood. "What kind of projects?" she asked, trying her best to keep her voice level.

"Right now, Unidac is really exploring the untapped potential of renewable resources," he said. "Harnessing solar and wind power, but we're also drawing up plans for something I personally think is very exciting. Unfortunately, I can't tell you over the phone because we'd have to get you to sign some nondisclosure agreements first. But these projects have a lot of potential, and we need someone with vision to bring these into reality."

"Oh, I definitely have vision," Felicity gushed. "I have tons and tons of vision. Vision up the wazoo, really. Call me glasses, because I'm all about vision."

She grimaces when she realized how much she was babbling, so she shut her mouth and counted down from three.

"That's great to hear," Curtis said on the other line, amusement in his voice. "If that's the case, would you be willing to come up to Star City in the next few weeks? We'd like to meet you, show you around the facilities. Maybe show you some of the projects we're working on."

"Yes," she agreed immediately. "Yes, I'd love to."

Felicity gave Curtis a few dates over the next few weeks. Then she gave him her email address and he promised to send her an email within the next few hours detailing an itinerary for her to tour Unidac Industries and interview with him and a few of the other higher ups.

Later that evening, her phone dinged and sure enough it was an email from Curtis with the promised itinerary. It carved out three whole days of tours at Unidac and interviews with everyone, from HR to the president of the company. Then there were two days afterward that she got to explore the city on her own. He listed several suggestions of sites she should see while she was in the city, and even offered to procure reservations and tickets to shows if she wanted.

She read the email again, and again, and again. All of a sudden, she felt incredibly nervous. It was one thing to dream about getting out of Hertfordshire and working at a big tech company and making a difference — it was something entirely different when it was actually happening.

Then she looked around her bedroom. It had remained relatively untouched since she graduated high school, when she was still going through an unfortunate goth phase. She still had the Matrix posters on her walls. She still had dark red curtains hanging over her window, and the bookcase plastered over with bumper stickers of different bands.

It all clashed so much with the person she was now. She had long since done away with the dark makeup and dark clothes. She started dying her hair blonde and wearing her glasses again.

She was different, but everything around her was still the same.

Felicity looked down at her phone, Curtis' itinerary staring back up at her.

This was her chance to put her childhood behind her. To put her past where it belonged and move on. To become who she knew she was meant to be.

It was time to take that leap of faith.

Curtis Holt was surprisingly young for a vice president of technology.

"I know, I know, I look like I'm still twelve," he said with a self-deprecating grin. "But I promise you I'm an adult with a driver's license and everything."

Felicity laughed at the way he introduced himself. Apparently he had to defend his youthful appearance more than once, but she didn't begrudge him that.

"It's very nice to meet you, Curtis," Felicity said, shaking his hand. "And thank you so much for the opportunity."

"Of course," he said graciously. "Dr. Wells told me you were definitely one I should keep my eye on, and his recommendation is something you can always count on. We knew we had to meet you."

For the next few hours, Curtis took Felicity on a tour of the Unidac Industries facilities. It was a relatively small operation in comparison to STAR Labs, but what it lacked in size, it made up for in ideas. She learned that Unidac's main area of focus was using renewable energy and finding ways to make the technology more prolific.

As she walked around and listened to Curtis' sales pitch on the company, Felicity felt her heart swell in her chest. This was exactly the kind of thing she wanted to do, she realized. This was the kind of socially conscious company she wanted to dedicate her smarts to.

This was everything she wanted.

Near the end of the tour, they came up to a room with a heavy iron door and a serious looking keypad lock.

"Behind this door is the project that I mentioned on the phone earlier," Curtis said. "It's also the project that we had you sign about a million non-disclosure forms to even hear about."

Felicity's heart sped up.

"I say all of this to remind you that what you're about to see is absolutely top secret," he warned. "You cannot breathe a word of what you see in this room to anyone."

She nodded solemnly as adrenaline started pumping through her veins. She was beyond pumped to see what was in there.

With a dramatic flourish, Curtis punched in the combination and the door fell open.

On first glance, the insides were...well, anticlimactic. It looked like any other open office space. There were standing desks, sitting desks, a few desktop computers, a printer in the corner...it was all very generic.

But Curtis bypassed all the normal office stuff to a long workstation in the very back of the room. On the workstation sat a plexiglas case with what looked like a lithium battery.

"This," he gestured proudly, "is what we've been working on."

Felicity tilted her head in confusion as she stared at it. "A battery?"

"Not just any battery," he countered. "It's an eternal battery. It never dies."

Her eyes widened in appropriate shock when Curtis revealed what it was. "Whoa…" she whispered reverently as she crouched down until she was eye level with it. "I thought this was still in the theoretical stage. I thought no one knew how to make this a reality yet."

"Not here. At Unidac, we're trying to corner the market on all breaking edge, renewable energy technology. When we heard that an eternal battery was theoretically possible, we immediately set to work trying to make it a practical reality."

"How?"

Curtis smirked. "You don't work here yet, Miss Smoak."

Felicity chuckled, but turned her head back to the miracle in front of her. An eternal battery. Something that never died. It was a tremendous piece of technology, and the names of the people who worked on it would live forever, just like the battery they invented.

She wanted to be a part of that.

Once she had gotten her fill of staring at the project and once she had squeezed all the disclosable information out of Curtis as she could — which admittedly, wasn't very much — she was escorted out of the lab and brought up to the third floor, which was the executive level.

"Now, Felicity, in the interest of fairness and full disclosure," he warned, "I am obligated to tell you that we're in the midst of a buyout."

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You are?"

He nodded. "We've been assured by our future owners that very little about our day-to-day operations will change. We'll still retain management, we'll still be able to do our own thing. The only difference is we'll be better funded to do our own thing and all of the intellectual property built here will transfer to our new owner."

"And who is that new owner?"

"That would be Queen Consolidated."

But it wasn't Curtis Holt who said it.

No, it was a far different voice. A voice Felicity thought she'd never hear again.

Her stomach immediately dropped to her knees, and ice started to spread through her veins. With slow, dreadful steps, she turned in her spot to find the source of that voice.

Oliver Queen stood before her with a solemn expression and his hands at his side, while he rubbed his thumb against his forefinger.

"It's nice to see you again, Felicity."